#(going from this very eager girl that wants to please everyone to a cold & calculating bitch that would sell you to satan for one corn chip)

[liroyalty]

Only at god awful times do I start thinking about teeange!Sue & the type of shit she had to go through at that age, as well at that being around the age range when she finally snaps.

[oftenderweapons]

Hard and Mellow – Hoseok

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x reader (nicknamed Giggles)

Wordcount: 1.7k

Genre: smut, established relationship

Rating: 18+

Hello everyone! Stopping by to deliver this quick drabble. It’s been a while since I wrote something because sudden inspiration struck me, so I thought I could follow the mood and this came out. 

I’m thanking the best beta reader of this whole galaxy (that I will never thank enough), @joheunsaram​​. Becoming friends has never been as easy as it is with you. Lob U. I also want to thank a very specific Silent Princess. This is all for you, baby. You’re more extraordinary than words will ever say. You’ve been through so much and I’m so proud of you. I hope this will give you a good time, and someplace you can go back to when you want to escape from the real world. I’d be honoured to call you friend. I’ll wait for you in my next life 💜💐

Do NOT open the “read more” if the following topics trigger you: Sir!Hoseok, Sub!reader, multiple orgasms, vibrator, masturbation and oral sex (female receiving), face fucking and hair pulling (male receiving), squirting, cumplay and cream pies, general messiness, cum eating, heavy breast play (slapping, gripping, squeezing, nipple pinching and tugging), exhibitionism, impregnation/breeding kink, heavy dirty talking, biting, mentions of impact play (spanking and whipping with belt), bruising, mention of blacking out.

Here is my complete masterlist!

Enjoy 💜✨

“Tell me how it feels.”

You simply arched your back and stared deep into his eyes.

“Tell me,” he repeated, curling his fingers and moving the vibrator closer to your clitoris.

“Too good.”

“Too good what?” He teased you.

“Too good, Sir.”

You were barely coherent at this point.

Five orgasms were taking their toll on you. More than that, you had also squirted with the previous two, your body and mind growing increasingly vulnerable.

The fact that he was so clearly going for the sixth, and that he could keep going after that — you knew he could and would — made you grip his hair and shove his face against your crotch.

“So naughty,” he growled with a deep laugh before getting the toy inside you, switching the vibration pattern to a pulsating one that always made you wild for him, his tongue titillating your most sensitive spot with hard, quick flicks.

You tugged at his hair naturally, planting your heels on the mattress before your hips shot up; his hands came to your breasts, gripping them hard before his fingers delivered a sharp, burning slap to your left mound.

He sucked your clit harder, his fingers pinching your nipples while the feeling of the vibrations inside you became way too much for you actually survive his assault.

“Sir, please, stop.”

He hummed and kept going, the growl so deep in his throat that it felt almost minacious.

“Oh, please. No, no, I can’t— Sir!” You screamed, letting sobs fall from your lips just as tears began rolling down the sides of your face.

With a grin in his mouth he kept going, overstimulating you until he felt your release wet his neck and chest.

Nothing pleased him more than feeling you gush for him, over and over.

You could barely believe that the same man who was obsessed with cleanliness and spotless rooms was the same one making you drench the sheets at least once a week — usually with a timing perfectly calculated with the changing of the sheets.

And there was such a deep, bone-melting pleasure in showering while barely alive and falling asleep in his arms with your body brainless, soft and clean against the fresh crisp sheets.

But tonight you were far from that.

You were far from being done.

At least, he was.

He watched your body grow entirely limp underneath him, your eyes closed, your legs shaking as they tried to close, only to surrender to his unfaltering will.

He was hungry.

He was desperate.

He was all things he’d never dared be with anyone else.

He wanted things he never thought he could have.

But now there was you, and even though he was afraid he would lose you to someone who could be reliable in ways he couldn’t, he was ready to tie you down to him in any way he could.

He felt stupid. He felt dumb and reckless and absolutely insane.

He abandoned the slightly sour and salty taste of your cunt, not before lapping at the creamy wetness coating your folds, making them part with a squelching, sticky sound.

He took the vibrator out of you and slipped it into his mouth, eating and licking and sucking at all the sweet release he’d coaxed out of you before letting it rest on the sheets — they were messed up already anyway.

He silently grabbed your ankles and dragged you all the way to the edge of the bed, your body still too tired for you to actively notice anything but the friction of the cotton burning against the bruising skin of your ass and the back of your thighs.

You barely remembered if it had been his hand or the belt — it was a remote memory. Maybe two or three hours ago.

Too much had happened to your body for you to hold on to such fickle facts.

“On your knees. Now.” His order was stark and cold, getting a piercing, squeaking whimper out of you, your legs dangling from the bed before he settled behind you, his thin and strong arms shaping you into the position he required you to be.

You were now sitting close to the edge of the bed, your legs bent underneath you as you finally found enough strength to cooperate.

With your back to his front, straddling him, you felt his throbbing cock against your core, lifting your hips just enough for him to place his tip against your entrance and slide inside once you gave in to the firm, hot fullness of him.

“Yes, my love. Ride it,” his voice came from over your shoulder, one hand coming down to your clit, already looking for one more orgasm, his other palm cupping your heavy breast, bouncing with the needy rise and fall of your hips and with your heavy breathing. Your nipples felt too delicate, too sensitive.

You cried out loudly and shamelessly once he pinched one, tugging at it before rolling it between his thumb and forefinger in a poor attempt at soothing your skin.

His breath was too cold against your sweaty skin.

He managed to bite your shoulder, sucking briefly at the curve of your neck before you felt his rough voice.

“I wish I could fuck you like this on a stage. Show everyone how good I am to you.” He slapped your breast once more before he started meeting your thrusts. “Show them how I make you cum. How I make you squirt all over me.” He bit and growled as he felt you get tighter. “I’m gonna show all of them how my sweet, delicate strawberry turns into the loveliest cumslut for this cock.”

You shook your head and cried out, imagining a thick crowd in front of you, watching in silence, waiting for your orgasm like football supporters wait for a goal, ready to cheer.

“My sweet strawberry. Bet no one can get you half as dirty…” He chuckled. “Such a  cute little fuckdoll. Aren’t you hungry for my cum? Don’t you wanna be filled up?”

You sobbed and nodded.

“Say it with your words, Giggles.”

“Sir, please,” you managed to squeal before both his hands grabbed your breasts.

“Please what?”

“I want your cum. I need your cum. I’m empty and cold without it.”

He felt pleasure grow almost too much, ready to overthrow him.

“That’s right. You’re only mine to fill up.” He tortured your nipples some more. “Aren’t you eager to be bred, like an expensive fine pet?”

“Please, gimme babies. I’m your pet. I’m only yours to be filled up, please Sir.” You felt more tears roll down your cheeks.

“That’s right. But this won’t work.” He murmured, helping you on all fours before grabbing your arms and pinning them behind your back, making your whole torso collapse onto the bed, your face meeting the spot where his cock was laying earlier as he ate you out. You could tell by the heavy scent of his sex.

“This is the right position for you to get all those babies. They’re gonna stay deep inside. Like this.” He said, driving his cock all the way inside you, humming at the increased depth and tightness.

“It would be so fun to let everyone see how we make babies, don’t you think? Almost a shame we didn’t film this.”

His giggles were evil and taunting, “I’m gonna cum. Would you like to, Giggles?”

You nodded and immediately felt his hand between your legs, touching you with expertise.

“You’ll get so round and soft. It’ll be so lovely.” Hoseok was reaching the very edge. “Everyone will know you’re getting fucked to be bred.” He bent down, closing his eyes and breathing deeper to control himself. “Being too horny when you’re ovulating, walking around the house in nothing but an oversized shirt.” He slapped your ass once, twice, three times, trying to last at least one more minute. “You’re really begging me to put a baby inside you.”

“Please, it’s all I want, please, Hoseok!”

“Such a good girl. You earned my cum so well, my sweet berry,” he managed to coo before he gave irregular, violent strokes.

“Oh, please!”

He lost himself once you squeezed him as tight as you could, forcing him to spill all his cum inside you, the hot spurts shooting against your oversensitive inner walls while his mouth opened wide, letting a few seconds go by before he actually managed to make a sound.  

He rammed inside you with animalistic force, fucking his cum deeper inside you, letting your tight cunt milk him until his balls didn’t feel heavy and uncomfortable anymore.

His sweaty forehead hit your nape, but you barely registered that. Pleasure crested and your body became numb to everything, finally giving in to exhaustion as your vision blacked out.

You didn’t know how long it had been when you managed to come back to reality; Hoseok was quiet behind you, your bodies now resting on your sides.

“Giggles,” he called gently.

You hummed and nodded.

“Are you doing okay, honey?” His voice was raw and concerned.

“I’m okay. Tired.”

He kissed your shoulder, where he could spot a bite mark darkening. “Do you need anything?”

You shook your head. On a second thought, you changed your mind. “Stay inside,” you whispered.

He did as you told him.

“I really want kids, Hobi.” Your voice was shaking and fatigued after all the heavy breathing and crying and screaming.

“We’ll have as many as you want,” he replied, drawing a line of kisses. “Whenever we’re ready.”

You nodded and scooted further back into him.

“You’ll be so beautiful, with a big round belly, glowing in happiness.” His hands caressed your body reverently. “You’ll be so sweet, breastfeeding our child on a rocking chair. And you’ll be the best at lullabies. Your voice is so nice and soothing,” he was getting emotional. “You’ll make the prettiest, gentlest of babies.”

You caught his hands in yours. “And you’ll spoil them rotten.”

“How can I say no to a mini-you?” He took in your scent, the smell of him and you and sex so deeply interwoven with every fibre of your being. “I hope they look like you.”

You tried to cuddle him as you heard him sniffle. “You’ll be the best dad in the universe.”

He gave a small laugh. “For now I’ll focus on the idea of getting all them babies inside you.”

You chuckled and wiggled your hips against him, squeezing around his half soft cock. “I second that.”

[andypridee]

A River’s Current | Challenge #1

here it is. i bring to you Andromeda Pride. well, andy preferably. I’m so sorry this is up sooo late but writing this was kind of a whirlwind. Please ignore any mistakes, i was writing this like a thousand miles per hour. Thank you sooo much to @arin-schreave and @itssara-oc for the rps i hope i wasn’t such a mess. so i leave you with andy. i hope you reading her as much as i enjoyed creating her.

bon appetit!

Silence flooded the room entirely. The day that just happened had been a whirlwind of things that made me completely uncomfortable. "Oh my God," I thought "This is going to continue for who knows how long" This was clearly the best time to understand the magnitude of my actions. Normally, I didn't think much before acting, but the consequences were not so huge. "Okay Andy, you're already here and there is no escape. Breathe. "

The huge room that had touched me was like a dream. A huge soft bed, a wardrobe that was a work of art in itself, a movie ceiling. "I guess this is it. The selection." A contest to win the prince's hand. Not even that. A contest to win what remains of the prince's heart, if it remains, to be able to one day be the queen of this country, although, in reality, it would only be an accessory for the king and his baby factory because obviously you have to follow the lineage And that's what women are for.

It was incredible that I could be and live, even for a short time, in a room as full of luxuries as that. Yes, my childhood had been privileged, I was aware of that, but this was just another level. He had seen, known and connected to so many places that not even in his deepest dreams could they have dreamed of something like this. And there were people who had so much power and money that this kind of room was simply a "guest room." It was increasingly difficult for me to think that solutions for millions of people were in the hands of a few who should actually provide solutions for those people.

How I wish Sierra had been there.

Anger and helplessness began to grow within me. The air didn't flow to my lungs and I had suddenly started hyperventilating. I went out on my balcony and saw around me. Everything looked so serene from afar. So uniform and so peaceful. I wanted to dive into it, keep walking until I got away from that huge and pretentious place. The edge of the balcony felt like a wall of bars to me. I was not made to live observing. And I didn't even know what I was doing here. I had no princess spirit, much less a queen. I needed to get out, talk, be able to experiment and especially help. Not standing still, looking pretty, saying the things that everyone wants to hear but being hopeful enough for those people who have almost nothing. Everything methodical, everything calculated. All coldly experienced, knowing that even if you want to do something and help, that would not make everyone happy, especially the most important ones. Living not in a home, but in an institution.

I closed my eyes for a moment and breathed. I saw a valley covered by the moon. Miles and miles spread before me, ready to be explored, ready for the unexpected. The cold air brushed my cheeks and I smiled. Then came the sea, with its smell of salt and freedom. The sun caressed my skin and comforted me. In the distance, seagulls were observed in mid-flight. This was what made me get up every morning. The possibility of a new, just, and caring world. A world wherein every place that the sea touched you could feel airs of hope and happiness.

I slowly opened my eyes and took another deep breath. I guess I couldn't do anything about my current situation anymore but I could take advantage of it.

I went to sleep with that image of the sea in my mind and I didn't wake up again until the morning rays touched my skin.

When I opened my eyes the day had already started without me. My maids, Audrey, Kate and Elaine, were fixing my room for a new day. Although I did not really understand why since everything looked extremely resplendent. The bathroom apparently was ready to tell from the condensation on the mirror and my outfit for the day hung neatly from the closet.

I closed my eyes once more wanting to be in my room in Zuni, or even in Waverly's bedrooms. Or anywhere outside of there. I opened my eyes again with the slightest hope that my wishes would come true. Obviously, they didn't, so I sighed and walked into the bathroom, ready to have at least 15 minutes of relaxation and privacy. That was, of course, until my maids started helping me.

"Um, ladies? I don't really know what to call them. Girls? Um well, I can do this alone if you don't mind. ”I tried to speak kindly to them.

"But, miss, we must help you in everything," Audrey replied in a concerned tone.

"I'm sure it doesn't refer to everything," I said, pointing to my body in the process.

"It is our duty, Miss Andromeda," Audrey replied politely.

I sighed “Okay, you can continue to do whatever other crazy duty you are dictated here but please just call me Andy. It is the only thing I ask of you. ” I said almost pleading.

"Okay, Lady Andy," Audrey answered again, who, apparently, was the one in charge of the three.

"Andy, Audrey. Andy. " I looked at her and tried to smile slightly.

"Okay La- Andy," she replied uncomfortably, but she had fulfilled what she had asked and that was an advance for me in the little that I had taken that morning, so I left it like that and I decided to violate what I considered privacy as too many levels.

-

OK. I was not a girl in dresses. And that was clearly inconvenient now. Looking at me in the mirror, I looked like a cupcake. Literally. It smelled of vanilla and everything. The dress itself was beautiful, white with gold accents and such a neat chest. Truly a work of art. But I was not wearing dresses. I felt uncomfortable and constricted, I could hardly breathe, and my arms could not rise more than 10 cm.

And now she was supposed to have breakfast in front of the queen and the royal family like that. Fantastic.

"Miss, you must go to your lesson," Elaine warned me before leaving.

"Lesson? Are we not supposed to have breakfast? ” I asked, starting to feel like my stomach was roaring under the tight corset of my cupcake dress.

"Before having breakfast in front of the royal family you must take an etiquette lesson." answered.

"They think we don't know how to eat? It can't be that different. Finally, it is the same process, you eat and drink. There is not much science. ”

"It is a requirement for all the selected ones," Elaine replied, trying not to get too agitated.

"So now I am that. One "selected". " I said, this time to myself. "Okay, I'll be down soon," I replied, a little more disappointed.

Going down that huge staircase I could see the other girls. All dressed in extremely precious dresses. Splendid walk. Perfect complexion. Hair like silk. And I, holding on tightly to the stair railing, afraid of losing my balance and hitting the living room on the floor. What a contrast.

I entered a large room, where tables were set up with their respective chairs. Several selected ones were already arranged in their places, so I looked for mine in that sea of ​​linen tablecloths and flowers with artificial smells.

Lady Andromeda

Thanks, mom and dad. They seriously couldn't choose another name.

I took a seat and turned the side of the card with my name face down. Then I smoothed down my dress and waited for something to happen, though I wasn't really sure what that would look like.

Finally, Princess Safiya entered the room and addressed us. She exuded airs of elegance and neatness. Almost like her brother but she seemed under control and ready to take charge of any situation.

"Good morning. I'm sure you're all ... eager to start seeing as you're meeting my brother shortly, so I'll try to keep this brief. ”

Eager? Really? Rather terrified of having to meet the prince. Oh, my God. Prince. Know him. Friend, if you want you can have me there all morning because we could say that the prince was not my favourite person in the royal family.

“Today I will begin to instruct you on conduct and protocol, a process that will continue for the duration of your stay. Please know that I will be reporting any missteps on your part to the royal family. ”

This was the most outrageous thing anyone could have said to me. Conduct and protocol? Who I am? A doll? What were the behaviour and protocol? To silence your mouth only and that everything is calm and courteous. Crap.

"I know it sounds harsh, but this isn't a game to be taken lightly. Someone in this room will be the next princess of Illéa. It is no small task. You must endeavour to elevate yourselves, no matter your previous station. You will become ladies from the ground up. And this very morning, you will receive your first lesson. ”

That was exasperating me, that situation they have to change their way of being because we do not consider it highly appropriate. She understood that they were the royal family but they were also ordinary humans. She didn't understand the need to be stiff and perfect all the time, much less at breakfast. It was quite a facade, because, let's be honest, who dresses like that to go to breakfast?

Suddenly, a very elegant brunette woman entered the room. It was Felicity Graham, the prince's ex-fiancée. She saw herself as a powerful woman, even on her own and without any ties to royalty or politics. She was the first person to impress me in the background since I got there.

He approached Princess Safiya and muttered something to her, and so they had an exchange of murmurs and increased the discomfort in the room by 87%.

Neither of us knew what was happening and I personally felt out of place and worse yet, too hungry to have a good attitude. We were there in front of them and they didn't even bother to make excuses.

I was about to get up and go get my well-deserved breakfast without any consideration of what might happen because I honestly didn't care. The faster I got out of there, the better. Safiya said something softly to Felicity but I didn't really bother to understand. Were they really taking away even more time?

“Table manners are very important, and before you can eat in front of the royal family, you must be aware of certain etiquette. The faster we get through this little lesson, the sooner you get to have your breakfasts, so faces forward, please. ”

Against my own will, I followed the instructions and continued the etiquette lesson, ridiculous as that sounds, albeit with some difficulty thanks to my dress. In the end, it was what was going to get me out of here and give me my breakfast without having to disrespect the princess in her face. Despite everything, I had always admired Princess Safiya for her tenacity and intelligence and she was frank, a quality that I will always respect people.

When mentioning the very retrograde etiquette instructions, there were one to two times that I almost laughed out loud. Not speak unless they spoke to us first? Really? She did not know that modernity and feminine emancipation had not reached the court of Illea. Even more so when our president was a woman like the queen.

"If you follow this one, I’ll be disappointed," Safiya added.

Well, one less person to disappoint, and at least the princess agrees with me on that ridiculous rule.

After something akin to a courtesy practice, although it seemed more like a classy torture session, and Princess Safiya completely reproved me with her eyes, we were free. My stomach at this moment was a huge furious mass and when my eyes looked at that oasis called buffet I swear that the angels sang. I'm not fully aware but I think I approached the buffet unusual and not very elegantly, filling my plate with delicacies.

I found my seat and got ready to ... eat. Actually, at first, it seemed like I was stuffed but I hadn't eaten anything since I woke up and that was going to be like two hours! But after the first three or four bites, I tried to keep my composure. Not because they had pointed it out to me but because I wanted to show them that we were perfectly fit people to eat without making a mess.

As soon as the guard who was going to escort me to that small room where the girls came and went came, my back stiffened. Usually, it was good under pressure and I wasn't nervous but this time we were talking about the prince, the actual price. I think the usual was not suitable for those occasions.

I got up from my chair with all the grace that can emanate and accompanied the guard to that little room. The first thing I glimpsed upon entering was the cameras. They were everywhere, pointing at different angles to a chair in the middle of everything. And there was Prince Arin waiting for me, standing a little too straight, a little too stiff, very rehearsed. I approached dubiously, looking back a moment but looking back at the prince, who gave me a small bow.

"Good morning, Lady ..." Her eyes searched for my little tag with my name on it. I guess learning 35 names overnight was difficult. "Andromeda." I almost winced when he said my name. Today had been a perfect day to call me Andromeda. "Please have a seat," he said as he gestured toward the sofa.

I did not know what to answer. My mind had gone blank. She only knew that she was in front of the prince, the heir of Illea. It was as if my conscious part had come out of my body and I was making a fool of myself. I bowed very badly and approached him. Safiya would certainly be disappointed in me, I thought.

"Hello! ... um... Good morning, Your Highness" I answered and took a seat on the sofa. "What the hell are you doing Andy? How old are you? Twelve? Act like a fully capable young lady and stop being silly. ” I said to myself as I tried to get comfortable on the sofa. Glancing back at Arin, I tried to smile slightly, concealing my disagreement.

He had settled next to me, turning his body so he could see me properly. There was something about his actions like they were too methodical and too rehearsed. He didn't seem like a natural person.

"How is your morning going?" he asked in a calm but neat tone of voice. How many times had she done this? He was probably not even paying attention anymore, just following a script and waiting for the morning to pass without any complications.

I, on the other hand, was a disaster. And the most irritating thing was that that wasn't me. I looked him in the eye and I got myself back together. "It's just someone else, there's no reason to be intimidated."

“Well let's say waking up inside a golden palace is a whole other way to start my morning, so pretty good so far. I must say, that breakfast of yours is going to spoil my appetite ”I said, while shaking my head, amused. I wasn't going to tell lies, that breakfast had been the best part of my morning.

He simply nodded and continued.

That’s good to hear. So you slept well then? ”

Again that studied tone. Breathe Although she wanted to explode, I continued the conversation, trying to cheer her up a bit. If he didn't want to have a good time, it was his problem.

"Like a dream, but you must know. I was a bit shocked at first when I got to my bedroom but then I calmed down. ” yes .. that little crisis.

"I'm glad to hear you were able to calm down." He looked for a moment at the cameras. Was that necessary? It was silly to ask, considering my experience with the bathroom that morning. "Which province are you from?"

I instinctively turned my gaze to the cameras for a second, uncomfortable with the situation. A mouse in a laboratory would have felt more comfortable than me. For a moment I felt my dress tighter, my hair straighter, my shoes smaller. I turned my gaze to Arin and replied. He continued to ask me questions and I answered them for a while. The weird thing was that he didn't comment on it like he wasn't even listening to me. I was trying to keep my composure but I was already exhausted. I wanted, first of all, to put on a good pair of pants and a shirt. Sleep all day and in the morning embark anywhere. Probably a remote island, accompanied only by Clifford and a coconut called René.

As the conversation progressed, I became more interested in it. A feeling of relief flooded my body and when I realized I was actually enjoying the conversation.

"It sounds like you enjoy it," he comments as he nods slightly.

"I do ... I think it’s a powerful way to tell the world’s history." I replied, a little excited.

"Do you plan on returning to journalism?"

"I have not abandoned journalism, it's just that I work for an NGO so that keeps me busy"

"What do you do there?"

"Well, I'm practically a wildcard. I've taught English and Maths to kids in Vietnam, I've helped to bring food to war-displaced communities, I've aided to build houses for a community made up of women, victims of family abuse, there's everything where you can help. "

Talking about my job was something I loved, but I didn't want to sound pretentious or anything like that, so I was glad when she continued to genuinely be interested in the conversation, or so it seemed.

He nodded, impressed and continued. That certainly sounds like a lot. I'm sure your family must be proud. ”

It was annoying that his only reaction to everything was to nod but he was so wrapped up in the conversation that I barely noticed. At the mention of my family, I gave a little laugh, funny.

Well, I don’t know. I'm sure my family thinks they contribute a lot to society as well. For my parents especially, it's just a complicated way to help when you can just donate a bunch of money and leave. ”

"Oh well, I'd be proud if I were them. It’s important to contribute to the ways you can. ”

"It is. It absolutely is. I believe that making change happen is the labour of everyone. Grain by grain great things can be built. ”

She nodded, again, and glanced at her watch, then turned to look at me.

"Thank you for speaking with me this morning, Lady Andromeda. It’s been a pleasure. ” She got up from the sofa, saying goodbye. "Please enjoy the rest of your stay."

"I'm sure that my stay he meant two hours while he finished with the rest of the girls," I thought.

But I tried to hide my true thoughts, so I got up and smiled confidently. Whatever happened, I think it would be fine.

“It has been surprisingly a pleasure. And please, call me Andy. My parents have been a little extra since ancient times. ” I joked, trying to make the stiff prince smile for the last time.

And fulfilling my goal, Arin smiled at me and nodded again. "This man and his head," I thought. But I did not care, I got him to show some emotion and that already progressed for me.

"Have a good rest of your morning, Andy."

-

“My parents thought so too but believe me, growing up as Andromeda was pretty tired. "I shrugged." Well, I don't believe so, for now, you are my only friend” me briefly, joking, as I usually did, about my name “the food here is the most heavenly thing ”

She was an extremely sweet and funny girl. I think it was a relief to be able to talk to someone without being afraid of being judged in the background, something very rare to find in the social circles that my parents made me frequent.

She giggled and answered “I can imagine. It's a beautiful name but it's pretty long and I'm assuming people have mispronounced it before? ” Her eyes lit up at the mention of our possible friendship ”That sounds like a deal. I'm your friend and you are mine. Don't take backs. ” And continuing with our conversation he added “It is pretty good. Where are you from? ”

“So many times! plus it is pretty weird so you can imagine ”I shrugged. "Sounds like a deal!" I told her and reached out my hand to close the deal, she took it, laughing, and we shook hands with each other but “From Zuni, originally. What about you? ”

"I kind of get your pain. Not many people know how to pronounce my last name. I'm from Whites! ”

"Well, I sure hope I'm pronouncing it correctly." I giggled a bit, something slightly unusual for me. "Oh! that's a great contrast ”I commented when listening to her native province.

"Don't worry, you're actually doing pretty good." She beamed and continued “It is! So what did you do before… ”she pointed around us, referring to La Selección“ all of this. ”

I smiled nostalgic, thinking about the life I had left behind. That life that had been built by me and only by me, and which was now thousands of miles from my reach.

“Well, I study journalism in Waverly and I work for an NGO, helping in poor communities. what about you? ”

“I have been volunteering in the orphanage here and there. I want to keep volunteering but the career I have makes it hard. ” she pouted a bit, making me smile. Sara was the sweetest person I’ve ever known. Usually, my friends and I expressed love with jokes and sarcasm, so hanging out with Sara was actually pretty recomforting. "I am a manager in my dad's business."

We talk about our jobs and our family. The more time passed, the more relaxed I felt, forgetting everything that had happened in the morning and feeling much more myself. Sara was a very sweet, interesting and impressive person. Being a manager in her father's store and volunteering. It is completely true that appearances are deceiving. At first glance, Sara seemed a very elegant but somewhat reserved person. Turned out to be funny and energetic. With airs of princess everywhere and kindness of heart, I was glad that there were girls with possibilities of winning, like Sara and genuinely began to root for her. We ended up talking about my family, especially my sister, Sierra. My sister was one of the people I missed the most and it had only been a day. We usually parted for months but we were a phone call away. This was completely different and he needed her more than ever.

"I'm lucky to have her. I believe that without her I wouldn't be here right now, ”I smiled wistfully, trying to control my tears instead. “Alright, so topic change because I don’t want to have mascara all over my face and make a fool of myself the first day, mmm what do you like to do outside work?”

Sara smiles and said “You really are the sweetest aren't you…” she gave me a sympathetic look and answered my question. Alright. We can definitely do that another day! ” * joked, making me smile and improve my spirits. "I? Well, I enjoy to read and write. Bullet journaling. Geocaching! I would love to travel more often. I love to learn more about different places. How about you? ”

"Count me in! crying out loud is one of my favourite things ever ”I commented sarcastically. “I have tried to do bullet journaling, trust me, it did not go well. But geocaching? what’s that? ” I've never heard of anything like that but I was truly curious "I LOVE-" had started screaming but then I remembered that morning's sermon and decided it was too early to start breaking the rules. "I love travelling!! it's my favourite thing to do in the whole world, I love to discover how diverse we can be in just one planet. I love photography as well, I have an album with all my trips, to see how a picture can tell a million words and a million emotions. ”

"I mean watching some sad movies can get you to cry out loud" Sara joked, continuing my joke. "Oh, I love it! Oh, geocaching is a bit of a weird hobby of mine. It's basically using GPS to find hidden treasures people have left behind. It's interesting for me. ” added with some regret. “I love travelling as well !! Are we possible soulmates? Long lost sisters? ” I smile with her eyes lit up. "Wow really? I would love to see it. Your album I mean. "

"Only if it's titanic" I joked. "But it sounds interesting like catching Pokémons or something like that, you have to invite me some time" I smiled, interested in my friend's hobby.

"I know! it's crazy!” I laughed and continued "where have you been?” And finally answered her request. “Well I could show it to you sometime, I secretly sneaked it in because my mother almost banned me from bringing it, ”I whispered.

"Obviously only titanic." she chuckled, joking. "It is! I have found several interesting things when I go geocaching. ” she grinned as I mentioned my interest in geocaching “Someday for sure!” she said, smiling widely. "It is! I hope to do that often. Travel I mean. I have been here and there but I barely had time to really immerse myself to each province. The farthest I've gone is New Asia. ” she leaned in when I started whispering “Oh really? I would love to see it. I'm glad you sneaked it in. ”

------

The sun had begun to set over the city of Angeles and a beautiful yellow light sheltered the city. The day that just passed had been, honestly, an emotional roller coaster. I had survived my first day of the Selection and I still hadn't made a complete fool of myself. I didn't know if I was going to be there in 24 hours or if this was only going to be a one-day vacation but at that point, it didn't matter anymore. Despite all my opinions regarding the Selection and what was happening, I was beginning to realize that not everything was completely bad and that in reality if I could not change the course of the river, I could at least travel with the current. I was afraid that maybe I would lose myself in the process for, apparently, it was something I couldn't control. The only thing I could do was make sure that day after day when I looked in the mirror, I kept seeing the same girl who wanted to contribute to the change. No matter what happened.

[xathia-89]

Lord Hampton

This is dedicated to @shrimpalompa because it involves both of our OCs, Evelyn and Erik. Please feel free to bombard me with all the questions over Tumblr and discord, because we planned to throw a spanner in the works with this one. 

It was dark, small and cramped. Evelyn could barely turn herself over, only to find that her wrists were bound behind her back, and then she cracked her head on the top of whatever the space was. There was nothing to tell her where she was, what was going on, or who she was with as she tried to recall what she could remember. A narrow alleyway on the way back from the shelter, a change in her routine after all the reports of various unsavoury individuals stalking her out. She could hear rattling, and it certainly wasn’t a comfortable ride. The only piece of information she could gather was that she was on the move. 

Then they went over a particularly large hole. 

A loud groan was one she would recognise anywhere. 

“Leonardo?” Evelyn knew that she wasn’t alone, and she suddenly couldn’t stop crying. “Leonardo? Are you okay?” She was sobbing, throwing the weight of her shoulder against the wood in an attempt to try and find the pureblood. 

“Evelyn?” He sounded so unsure before the sounds of shuffling around her reached her. 

Then the moving stopped. Leonardo had taken to trying to open something, banging his fists on things and trying to free them was all the woman could hope for until he made a strange noise. 

“Get the girl out, we have lots to be doing,” a familiar accent but not a warm voice as Evelyn came to the realisation that she was in a box of some sorts. “But we should catch up first Leonardo, Papi has been worried about you.”

Two individuals were carrying her, that was the best of her assumptions. They were being steady in the movements, trying to not jostle her about too much and hurt her, which made her even more worried than she had been. 

The box was broken open in a stupidly ornate room. A large claw foot bath was the centrepiece of the room, running hot and cold water was something only the very rich could afford as the marble and gold glimmered in the electric lighting. Everything was designed to show off the wealth of whoever owned this place before two maids began to strip Evelyn of her clothing, eager to get her cleaned up while they were gossiping between themselves in such a fast pace of Italian that the noblewoman had no chance of trying to understand them. She caught phrases and words, but she was certainly none the wiser as to who had done all of this. 

They certainly had money. The corsets were ridiculous, and she had a feeling that she was bigger than the ideal size for the image whoever it was had of her, but then the dress was a perfect fit. Someone had all the time in the world to get it right, but Evelyn was on the backfoot here before the doors to the room she was in opened. 

A beautiful woman entered, holding herself tall and with all the grace that Evelyn would never possess. She scrutinised her appearance openly, before nodding to the maids that they were dismissed. 

“Follow me,” the woman briefly stated, turning around to lead the way. 

It didn’t seem like she had that much of a choice. The corridors were full of portraits, domineering and controlling as it seemed to go on forever until a chandelier broke the dullness of the mansion. Its crystals glimmered, reflecting patterns over the room as silence fell over the gathering below. She was being paraded like a doll, and then Leonardo broke the silence. It was more than a little relief to know she wasn’t alone as he wrapped her in his arms, glaring over her head at the strange woman. Her expression was the most confusing thing; she looked so smug and pleased with herself before she cleared her throat. 

“Thank you all for attending this celebration, announcing the betrothal of our son, Leonardo, to Lady Evelyn Hampton,” her smile was calculating, enjoying the turmoil before she went to mingle with the masses. 

“Leonardo?” Evelyn was struggling to get her head around events. 

“Let me explain things to you outside, there should be a small section of the garden where we can have some privacy,” he promised, kissing the back of her hand before leading her through the crowd. 

Everyone was delighted for them. Warm-hearted congratulations, gentle teasings and general enquiries that neither of them wished to deal with at the moment. It seemed to take an eternity to get outside, and the air was doing nothing for her nerves. Leonardo didn’t relinquish her hand; he was scared that he would lose her touch if he did as he navigated the twists of the garden, finding them the best spot for privacy. 

He chuckled dryly, able to get a proper look at the woman. 

“What’s going on?” Evelyn was shaking, she didn’t know anyone aside from the pureblood in front of her, but they knew who she was and more importantly, they also knew she wasn’t married. “Who are they and why are they saying we’re getting married?” Her grip tightened on his hands, cerise orbs gazing into his golden ones. 

“The woman who made the announcement is my mother,” Leonardo said after a small pause, cupping and stroking her cheek affectionately. “This is the Da Vinci estate in Florence, I am guessing they had us both kidnapped from Paris,” he sighed. “And they want me married to another vampire so I can continue the pureblood lineage. I didn’t realise how desperate they were to continue it. Otherwise, I would have warned you. Many apologies, Cara mia.”

“I really don’t think it’s you who needs to be apologising,” Evelyn replied, scooting closer to the pureblood before resting her head on his shoulder. “How long until the wedding?”

“It won’t be as simple as that, the marriage will be the first steps, and then it will be the first child who will need to be raised according to their principles,” Leonardo continued, sadness shining in his gaze before he kissed her forehead. “They’ve got us good right now, but I get the feeling we have friends who won’t let them continue.”

***

Le Comte wasn’t surprised that it was Leonardo’s family behind it, nor that they had taken Evelyn along for the ride. She had weight behind her title, and she was also a vampire. They must have been getting desperate because they had always tried for other pureblood females before now. It didn’t take very long for the news to spread through the world that Leonardo was to marry Evelyn, which didn’t give Le Comte all that much time to come up with an intervention. Erik had come along for the ride to Florence with him, insisting that two purebloods would be better than one. 

The Nordic man was out like a light in the carriage as they kept trundling through the Italian countryside. His snores were irritating, but then he recalled the time that Evelyn had said it was worse after he had been drinking. She would have the position of the favourite pillow when he was at the mansion if Le Comte was a jealous man than his envy would have been showing the second Erik had appeared. Evelyn and Erik were well met on many levels, but neither showed any inclination to stop being themselves just because the other was around. 

The Da Vinci estate was astonishing and made the one in Paris look like a tiny house. Peacocks strutted around the gardens, their feathers on display for everyone to see as the two vampires tried to keep their expressions neutral. This had to be carefully orchestrated if Erik’s plan was to be successful. The Da Vinci family knew who Le Comte was, especially as he was practically rushed by all of the single women in the household. 

The wedding was hours away, it had all been arranged meticulously, and Le Comte wasn’t surprised to see Caterina Da Vinci at the centre of it all. She had her claws deep in this puppet show, and she appeared delighted to see the French aristocrat making his presence to the sham, though Erik’s presence did sour her a little until she found out he was also from a pureblooded family. 

It was hard to not react to her comment that Evelyn seemed to have all these purebloods around her little finger. She made it sound as though they should all be grateful for her interference before she was called away by one of the passing maids with the implication of something possibly not going to plan. 

Le Comte had never seen his friend looking so solemn. Leonardo hadn’t even spotted Le Comte in the waiting crowd. Everyone was waiting eagerly for the announcement of the bride’s approach as Erik was already using that to his advantage to sneak up towards the altar. 

She took the collective breath of the room away as the doors to the church were pulled out in true Da Vinci fashion. It was the family-style to demand the attention. Her ivory dress was akin to that worn by royalty, and she looked like a demure woman, if Le Comte didn’t know her better, then he would have said that she had accepted her fate. She offered no resistance, she held her head high, her posture carrying her assets to show her breeding stock. That is all the Da Vinci family saw in Evelyn, a host for the next generation of vampires. 

Leonardo had a sad smile on his face as she approached him. They knew she wouldn’t change, all they knew is that they didn’t have a way out at that moment, and this would grant the smallest of reprieve for the call to settle down. 

Le Comte believed that Evelyn had never looked so vulnerable. She hadn’t had the chance to even glance around the onlookers before she spotted someone moving behind Leonardo. It warmed his heart. She lit up like her life was about to be saved, before Leonardo had a hand clamped down on his shoulder, interrupting the priest as the Da Vinci’s realised what was going on. 

“Excuse me, I believe she’s marrying the wrong person,” Erik was dressed smartly, and certainly not in anything that Evelyn had seen him in before. An over-exaggerated wink to the woman made her smile brightly, and Leonardo certainly wasn’t offering any resistance. The other vampires knew the problem with the reactions; they couldn’t interrupt at this point. “And you may wish to hurry,” the Nordic male pointedly glowered at the priest. 

The man knew what was going to happen either way, and he was eager to vacate the premises. He began to loudly read out the vows, making sure that everyone knew what he was doing.

“I, Erik Olofsson, take you, Evelyn Marie Hampton, for my lawful wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part,” it startled the chaotic room into silence, the wedding band pushed onto her left ring finger before the attention came onto the woman in front of him.

“I, Evelyn Marie Hampton, take you, Erik Olofsson, for my lawful husband. I promise to be true to you in good times, and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love and honour you all the days of my life,” Le Comte felt a twinge in his heart, to see her slide the ring onto Erik’s finger. But she wouldn’t allow anyone to change her, and this would stop those silly attempts by little aristocrats who decided they liked the look of her. Sealed by a kiss as the Nordic pureblood knew that Leonardo was going to be terrorised by his family afterwards, but they wouldn’t be able to try the same technique again as the four of them came together in natural gravitation. 

***

“So, does your title change now then? Are you Lady whatever Erik’s surname is?” Arthur was more than a little surprised when the news was broken over drinks on the return to Paris. “And more importantly, does that mean we can’t share anything now?”

“Lady Hampton still on the papers, but it’s Hampton Olofsson legally and that,” she shrugged, enjoying the champagne that Sebastian had brought in for the occasion. “And there are absolutely no changes otherwise to be made, Erik has his thing to be doing, and I have mine. He will be gone for unknown amounts of time, and like hell, if I’m suddenly going celibate for that,” she scoffed, attracting the attention of the three purebloods. The weight of the room seemed to then fall onto Erik so he could prove it was a mutual arrangement.

“No one can try to run off with her again and steal her away,” the Nordic man shrugged, turning his nose up at the champagne and scouring the cabinet for some harder liquor. “Which has happened on a few occasions, and nothing is changing except her name. I get to refer to myself as a Lord now too, that should be a good change,” he laughed, slinging his arm casually over Evelyn’s shoulders. “May end up taking her along for the ride for some things, always a good cover to pose merely as a travelling couple. Also means people like to try stuff if they hear ‘Lord and Lady’. So I get my fun.”

“We’ll see,” Evelyn replied, shaking her head.  

[whumpbby]

What do you think about a gangsta AU with Jason being a tag/twilight and Dick being his contract holder?

As in, Jason on the hit list and Dick doing the hitting? :O 

Aw, anon, listen, what if Jason is on the hit list and Dick takes it on for the money - he sees the photo on the dossier and it’s this big tank of a man with a hard stare and all, and he thinks it’s some sort of a gangsta... 

But then he goes to observe the man himself and notices that what the fuck, the guy is nothing like that.  For once, the boy is not even remotely connected to crime or anything, he’s a mechanic. And in his afternoons he’s working as a boxing coach at the local youth centre. And in his free moments, he goes to a bookstore and spends an hour there... and his evenings are super boring - he sits on the balcony of his crappy studio flat in a crap neighbourhood and reads a book with his cat sleeping on his lap.

Dick is befuddled. What the fuck? This guy is harmless and, he has to admit, quite cute. There has to be a reason he was put on the hit list! 

So, Dick starts to dig. He goes into the files, observes the guy at all times, calls in some favours... And hits a wall. because at some point, the paper trail dries. Just ends. Jason Todd seems to exist for only five years...? The birth certificate is obviously fake, the diplomas and education are fabricated, the lease on the flat is also only five years old.

Something isn't adding up. And at this point, Dick is intrigued and invested. He needs to know what’s the truth about the cute boy with no past! 

So, he does what he usually does, and goes in, sets up a meet-cute with the guy and they hit it off. And Jason turns out to be amazingly cute, shy and nearly virginal. Awkward like a spring maiden and Dick is all over that. He didn’t really ‘date’ anyone in a long while and this just feels good. He wants to keep going, even if Jason isn’t at all eager to talk about his past, his family (2 younger brothers and 2 sisters) is a bit protective of him and Jay isn’t all that eager to get into bed with Dick, but that ‘s fine, what they have now is very good.   

That is, until one evening when Jay finally allows Dick to lay him on the bed and undress him and they make love in the dark, and Dick’s heart is just bursting - even if something about that situation isn’t quite right... but he ignores it, telling himself that he’s the one lying about his ‘work’ so it’s just guilt... but then morning comes, sun streaks into the bedroom and Dick opens his eyes and sees Jason naked for the first time and...

...there’s an autopsy scar on his chest. Dick knows, he’d seen a few, he knows how they look and JESUS CHRIST. That... that puts many things together  - the fact that Jason has no past, for example. Five years ago - was he dead? 

JESUS 

So Dick slips out before Jason can properly awake, mumbling excuses about work calling him in. He leaves before his brain self-combusts, because there was one thing that he remembers happening five years ago that was fucking important! Five years ago two crime families had a bit of a spat in the region - there was a kidnapping, a bomb and a dead son of one of the bosses. And his name was Jason Peter Wayne.   

And, as luck had it, just as Dick gets to his bike, he gets kidnapped. It’s a professional attempt that he’d see if he wasn’t so damn preoccupied, but he is so the cold muzzle of a gun against his kidney and two goons leading him calmly to a limo parked close by are a surprise. Even more of a surprise for Dick is getting into the backseat and meeting the calm, calculating gaze of Tim - Jason’s younger nerdy brother. Nothing nerdy about him now. 

“Richard,” Tim says, calm and serious. “I hope you’ll accept the invitation for a brunch with the family. Seeing as you’re something of a fixture in Jason’s life now.” 

Dick blushes. Two days ago this kid spent an hour at Jason's flat complaining about college and stuff. Now he’s sitting there in a perfectly pressed suit and looking at Dick like he a basilisk. What can Dick do? He’s dead anyway. 

“For what it’s worth, I just figured it out,” he decided to make it clear. “I wouldn't hurt him.” 

“Of course you wouldn’t.” The implication that ‘you wouldn’t live long enough to do so’ was clear. 

“Does he know?” Dick asked. “He’s blending in well with normal citizens.”

Tim shrugs. “He is a normal citizen. We’d like that to remain the case.”

Huh. Dick stays quiet as the limo leaves Gotham and, of course, heads in the direction of Wayne Manor. So yes, he’s fucked. No one unauthorised returns from the Wayne Manor. 

They get there, get out of the car, and Tim waves the goons away, leading Dick to a stately dining room where all of the ‘family’ is already seated and waiting for the elderly butler to set out their meals. Dick sits down in a chair he was pointed to and tries not to faint. Cass was always curiously blank, but today there’s nothing on her face, and Steph looks at him with a little apologetic smile, and Damian - the cantankerous old man in a kid’s body, glares. And then there’s Him, the man himself, the Bat. Bruce Wayne in the flesh - giant and handsome, and engrossed in a newspaper. 

“Please eat, young sir,” the butler advises, putting a plate with an omelette in front of Dick. “Before it gets cold.”

Dick, obediently, eats the dish, wondering if they’re about to poison him. Taking up that contract was so not worth it if this was to be his end. At least the food was good. And the meal was somewhat pleasant - everyone was polite and appreciative of the food, Tim was glued to his tablet and Damian fed scraps to the massive black Dane sitting at his feet, and the girls whispered to themselves, and Mr Wayne sipped his coffee and it was all so domestic and normal that the presence of five armed men taking spots around the room was almost unnoticed... 

In the end it was Damian that broke the silence. 

“Grayson,” the kid glared at Dick like a gargoyle. “You have defiled my brother!”

Dick was glad that he wasn’t the only one to choke on his tea.

“Master Damian, this is hardly an appropriate topic for a breakfast table!” 

“I don’t care! He did and I am taking offence!”

“Damian,” Bruce’s look and tone were both frosty. 

“No father, he better has an explanation to...”

“I love him!”

Only after everyone’s eyes rested on him did Dick realise what he had just blurted out. Uh oh. But he could have sworn that Bruce’s face softened just a bit. So he decided to follow the hit, because he was Dick Grayson and that was what he did. “I love him.” And that was all he had to say about the matter, becuase they didn’t deserve anything else form him. Tim’s lip ticked up as if in approval and Dick considered it a win. 

“Wery well,” Bruce Wayne folded his newspaper and got up. “We can discuss the matter in my study.”

Uh-oh. Dick was so dead. 

********

When Jason finally opened the door to his flat, he looked like a right mess - hair still tousled from sleep, shirt buttoned up to his throat, eyes wild and hands wringing. He looked smaller than he had any right to be. And he just stood there, in the doorway, staring at Dick as if he didn't believe the man was there... 

“I brought some croissants?” Dick offered, pointing to the bag he held in the crook of one arm. Everyone loved a fresh crossaint. “If you’d like to have a late lunch - or an early dinner with me?”

“Oh.” Jason said. And. “You were gone.” And. “I thought you’d...”  

“If I had anything to say about the matter, you’d wake up in my arms,“ Dick told the truth. “But if I’d ignored it, they would have my head.” And that was also true. "But that’s it, shouldn't happen again.” And thankfully, that was too. 

“Oh?” Jason looked so adorable Dick wanted to kiss him. “You quit?”

Dick did kiss him. “Nah, just got a new assignment.”

“Is that so? Gonna be better than before?”

“Yeah, I love it already.”     

[superiordragonlorde]

Exploding Free

April 5: Festival | Amaryllis | Eternal Sunshine by Jhene Aiko (the song I listened to while writing)

Alright, day 5 for @kiridekuweek2k19 . I hope you all enjoy!

     Izuku tugged on his light gray yukata, panicked heart tripping and stumbling in his chest. Eijirou walked beside him in his own dark blue yukata, admiring the booths spread out across the area. His sharpened teeth were on full display as he chattered on about his excitement for the festival, the different foods and games he wanted to try, and the fireworks they would be seeing later. Izuku’s small heart fluttered and throbbed with each ecstatic word and joyful gasp.

     The two of them had been part of a larger group earlier, but Ochako and Mina had not-so-subtly decided that they were going to try to stake out spots for watching the firework show. Tenya had offered to come with them and Katsuki had grudgingly tagged along at Mina’s insistence. Then Tsuyu had found a game she had wanted to play a few booths down and Hanta and Denki had followed behind her. They soon disappeared into the crowd, leaving Izuku, alone, with Eijirou. He had the sinking feeling that all of this had been pre-planned by his so-called “friends”. He wasn’t sure whether he was betrayed or eternally grateful.

     Either way, Izuku was sure he was going to die from either embarrassment or the way Eijirou’s face was practically glowing in the sun’s dying rays and the lanterns’ dim, flickering lights. At this point, it could go either way.

     “Hey, check it out!” the redhead cried, startling Izuku out of his musings. His eyes followed Eijirou’s pointed finger. A few meters down, a booth overflowed with brightly colored stuffed animals of varying shapes and sizes. A small crowd of people had gathered around it, cheering and yelling out encouragements. “Do you want to go over there?”

     Izuku snapped his gaze back to Eijirou and his chest clenched at the gentle inquiry shining in crimson eyes. Izuku felt his throat grow dry and he tried to swallow past it. “S-sure, yeah. That sounds good.”

     A broad smile swept across Eijirou’s lips. “Ok, let’s go!” His hand wrapped around Izuku’s wrist and a fire burned under his skin at the contact. He glanced down, half-expecting a handprint to be branded into his flesh, but only fingers, rough from training, were loosely holding it. A warmth spread through Izuku’s chest and rose up from his neck to his cheeks. He stumbled after Eijirou’s soft pull as the redhead politely slipped through the crowd.

     When they made it to the booth, Izuku peered over Eijirou’s shoulder as a chorus of disappointed cries surrounded them. A girl held a ring in her hand and was glaring at rows of steel bottles sitting on a table towards the back of the booth. With a deliberate toss, the ring sailed through the air and bounced off the rim of two bottles. The crowd groaned in response and trickled away as the girl raised her hands in defeat.

     “Aw, that’s too bad,” Eijirou murmured. He gave the bottles a thoughtful look, head tilted to the side like a confused puppy. Izuku felt a phantom hand squeeze his heart.

     “I bet you could totally win that, Midoriya,” Eijirou suddenly piped up and Izuku felt a dizzying rush of euphoria at the confidence solidified into his voice.

     “O-oh, I don’t— uh— I don’t think— I mean, I don’t know about that...”

     “Don’t sell yourself so short, man,” Eijirou chided, bumping his shoulder into Izuku’s. “You’re one of the smartest people I know, and this game is just all about making good calculations, right?”

     Izuku’s flush deepened. “W-well, actually, there’s also hand-eye coordination, knowing how much force to put into your throw, having good aim—”

     “See,” Eijirou cried, spreading out his hands between them. “You’d totally wipe the floor with this game! Here, let’s try it.” He fished into his futokoro and pulled out his wallet. Money in hand, he turned to the vendor. “Six rings, please.”

     “Wait, wait!” Izuku yelped. “You don’t have to pay! Here, let me—”

     “It’s fine, bro,” Eijirou consoled, already trading the paper currency for the plastic rings. “I already got them, see?” He held the rings up with a victorious grin. “Now, let’s see what you’ve got.” A flash of competitiveness swept across Eijirou’s eyes and Izuku felt his stomach twist itself into a knot. He swallowed and nodded, hesitantly taking three of the rings.

     Eijirou took a step back, waving him on. Izuku slowly inhaled and tried to still the tremor in his hands. He narrowed his gaze onto the bottles, forcing himself to focus. He lightly tossed one of the rings.

     It bounced off a bottle on the first row.

     “Don’t worry, Midoriya,” Eijirou quietly cheered. “You’ve got this.”

     Izuku felt his heart leap at the comfort, then suddenly stumble and any sense of control he’d had slipped out of his grasp. He could feel a red gaze boring into him, watching his every move, not to mention the small crowd that had stopped to watch and wait for their own turns at the game.

     Izuku felt a trickle of cold sweat roll down his neck. He gulped and tossed another ring.

     It tapped the edge of a bottle in the back row and fell to the ground.

     The soft groans of disappointment did little to ease Izuku’s sudden onslaught of nerves. His skin crawled and slithered from the stares pinning him down. He could hear murmured words rising behind him, could almost understand the uttered sentences.

     He just keeps messing up.

     He won’t ever get it right.

     He’s just a useless—

     Izuku threw the final ring if only to get everyone’s attention off of him. It sailed over the bottles and shot through the booth’s fabric wall. Izuku’s stomach sank past his feet into the other side of the world. He looked down at his hand, catching the crackling energy of One for All arching across his fingers. The sudden silence, as everyone watched him with varying degrees of concern and caution, weighed like a wet blanket over him, smothering and hot. His breathing grew faster as he drowned beneath their unshakable attention. His skin felt clammy and burning.

     “I-I—” he stammered, his mouth racing off without his permission. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t— I didn’t mean t-to— “

     “Hey, man,” Eijirou softly called out to him, taking a few steps closer. “Don’t worry about it. It’s ok.” Izuku’s shoulders hunched as he vainly tried to hide his scalding face. “No, really,” Ejirou continued to soothe. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Here, let’s go over there.” He coaxed Izuku away from the center of the crowd, clearing a space for him at the edge of the booth. Izuku pressed his back against one of the booth’s metal poles, wishing he could disappear from the innumerous prying eyes. He vaguely realized that Eijirou was shooing the crowd away, promising that he was fine and just needed some time and space. Izuku decided to focus his sprinting thoughts on his friend’s compassion and soothing patience, forcing the darker, suffocating thoughts to the back of his mind.

     Eijirou came back a minute later, watching Izuku with quiet, simmering worry. “I’m sorry I made you go up there without asking first,” he apologized, guilt weighing down his voice.

     Izuku scrambled to face his friend, hands flailing in front of him. “No, no!” he cried. “Y-you didn’t force me to do anything. I could have chosen not to play anyway, but I, um, I guess I just...” Wanted to impress you. He clamped his mouth around the words, refusing to let them escape.

     Eijirou offered him a soft, understanding smile and Izuku was half-surprised he didn’t collapse right then and there, further embarrassing himself in front of everyone. “Do you want to go somewhere quiet for a little bit? Would that help? Or do you want me to find Uraraka? Maybe Iida—”

     Izuku quickly shook his head. At best, his friends would worry about him, at worst they wouldn’t leave his side for the rest of the night, and Izuku wasn’t too keen on giving up his time alone with Eijirou just yet. “No, I’m, um, I think I’m ok. B-besides, you still have your rings.” He pointed lamely at the plastic items in Eijirou’s grasp.

     The redhead glanced down and shrugged. “That’s ok, we can still go. I don’t mind, bro. I just want to make sure you’re ok.” He moved to return the rings to the vendor but Izuku grabbed his wrist, copying the gentle hold Eijirou had done earlier.

     “I promise, Kirishima,” he swore. “I’m ok. Really. Go ahead and throw your rings.”

     Eijirou fixed him with an unconvinced look, his eyes flicking over his face. Izuku could feel flames licking along his cheeks and he had no doubt his face was starting to match Eijirou’s hair, but he held firm and stared back, unrelenting. Finally, Eijirou sighed and pulled his arm back. “Ok. If you’re really sure. I’ll make this quick.”

     “You don’t have to,” Izuku started, but Eijirou had already tossed one of his rings, face twisted in absolute concentration. It bounced off the edge of one of the bottles.

      Izuku shuffled back a step, content to watch from his spot at the edge of the booth. Eijirou’s narrowed gaze was resolutely set on the steel bottles and his tongue peeked out between his lips. Izuku’s heart flittered in his chest like a trapped bird, eager to be released. He tamped it down with fear and uncertainty and, after some fighting, it eventually settled down.

     Eijirou’s second ring missed its mark as well. His brows furrowed deeper and Izuku couldn’t help the fleeting thought of how adorable he looked, trying to win. He tossed his final ring and Izuku’s chest constricted at the disbelief and excitement that washed over Eijirou’s face.

     “Yes!” he cheered, mouth upturned into a smile that looked as though it had unlocked the very essence of the sun. “I won! Midoriya, did you see that?” He whirled around, aiming the blinding grin on Izuku.

      He blinked, dazzled by its intensity. “Y-yeah,” he lied. “That was incredible!” Eijirou whipped back around, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He scanned the selection of stuffed animals, eyes alight and rarely settling on one for more than a second.

     “That one!” he finally decided, pointing at a mass of plushes in the furthest corner of the booth. “The one in the middle! Please,” he quickly tacked on. The vendor buried their hands into the crowded group of stuffed animals, pulling down a green hedgehog with a red bow tied around its neck. The vendor handed it off to him and Eijirou eagerly took it with a giddy smile and an excited “thank you”.

     The image of an overexcited puppy flashed through Izuku’s mind and a giggle bubbled out of his mouth. He quickly hid it behind his hands as Eijirou bounded over to him, his smile growing wider with each skip. Izuku was sure that his heart would either break away from his rib cage or spontaneously combust.

     “Here.” Eijirou held out the hedgehog, eyes and smile softening.

     Izuku stared at the plush, blinking. The situation slowly sank into his brain and his stomach twirled and somersaulted. “Oh, no, I— I couldn’t— You won it, y-you should keep it.”

     “But I want you to have it,” Eijirou urged, still holding out the stuffed animal. Izuku hesitated then slowly reached out. His fingers sank into the fluffy material and he held it with gentle hands, as though it might explode if he squeezed it too tightly. He glanced up, finding Eijirou staring at him, his eyes more tender than Izuku was used to seeing. His heart fluttered with hope and Izuku chose to nuzzle his face into the hedgehog’s faux fur, effectively hiding his burning cheeks.

     “I-I, um, I really like it,” he murmured. “Th-thank you.”

     “Yeah, sure,” Eijirou quietly replied, like the words were a secret meant only for him. “I’m glad you like it.”

     Izuku was sure he had completely combusted into flames at this point.

     “I-it’s, uh, it’s getting kind of— kind of dark,” he stammered out, frantically searching for a way to divert the warm, tender gaze.

     Eijirou looked up at the black, star-speckled sky and seemed to shake himself. “Oh, you’re right. Should we go find everyone?”

     Izuku nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Fingers tentatively curled around his wrist and he let Eijirou carefully guide him away from the booth and out towards the open field nearby, scattered with blankets and collapsible chairs. Boisterous laughter and cacophonous chatter filled the air as people waited for the firework show to start. Izuku’s eyes skimmed over the crowd, relying on the dim lanterns sprouting from the ground to depict his friends’ faces. “I, um, I don’t see them...”

     Eijirou hummed thoughtfully beside him. “Me neither. Let me just—”

     A resounding boom echoed through the field. Izuku jumped, bumping into Eijirou. The sky flooded with bright reds and oranges that streaked across the stars, fading away to make room for more explosions of blues and greens. Cheers and cries of awe erupted from the crowd around them.

     “Are you ok?” Izuku jumped at Eijirou’s warm breath on his ear, shouting over the deafening sounds. He turned his head, searching for a red gaze as he nodded. His heart stuttered to a stop when his nose brushed against Eijirou’s and he sucked in a gasp that was drowned out by the fireworks. His tongue sat dry and useless in his mouth. Eijirou’s gaze flicked down and Izuku’s quickly followed it.

     His hand was intertwined with Eijirou’s, most likely a reflex from being startled by the first firework. Izuku felt his boiling blood gather in his face as his heart withered with humiliation. He released his death grip on Eijirou and started to pull his hand away. The rough fingers hesitantly tightened around his hand, a gentle pressure that made his heart flutter and thrum. He stared down at their entwined hands, admiring the way their fingers fitted perfectly together, slotting into place like fate had always meant for it to be that way. He slowly readjusted his hand, fitting it more solidly into Eijirou’s hold. He tipped his head up, gaze drawn to wide, relieved, and thrilled eyes.

     A corner of Eijirou’s mouth quirked up, a few of his teeth glinting in the flashes of colorful light. Izuku didn’t even try to hide the matching smile that was spreading over his own lips. He squeezed the hand in his grasp and earned a comforting, tighter grip in return. His smile widened, making his cheeks ache.

      A chorus of explosions shuddered through the air, dragging Izuku’s attention away from captivating, warm, tender eyes. The sky was awash in bright colors that sparkled and shimmered against a star-studded backdrop. The booming of the fireworks saturated the atmosphere, drowning out all other noises in the world.

     A solid squeeze encased his hand again, and a puff of warm breath tickled his ear. Eijirou’s lips brushed against his hair as they moved with quiet words only he could hear. Izuku’s beaming grin overtook his face and he clutched the green hedgehog closer to his chest, burying his nose into its soft fabric as he bit his bottom lip.

     The last, resounding boom of fireworks masked the elated squeal escaping from Izuku’s throat as his heart soared out of his chest, free at last.

[musette-thornsong]

OJ: God’s Right Here

Aura Zurie had found out years ago during her childhood that she was not all cell but only half. If being treated like crap by the entire city of Frank wasn’t bad enough, the virus, Thrax, whom she once called friend betrayed and stabbed her in the back (in more ways than one). After losing so much and being used by those she trusted, she had become officially devoid of all emotion and decided never to trust or let anyone inside ever again. The return of Thrax may change that when they are paired off to hunt down the resurrected mob boss, Scabies, who has kidnapped Ozzy and Drix and will only release them if they hand over a recently acquired rare artifact. But soon everyone (including Thrax) will realize the huge mistake they have made when messing with the wrong girl.

One-Shot Parody

Warning: Violence, gore, language, psychological humor

Words: 6,216

Aura, Meth, & Opius girls belongs to me

Staphylococcus Aureus borrowed from a real bacterium.

It was a dark time in the City of Frank. The Chief of Frank Police had just recently assigned a case to Osmosis Jones, Drix, and (recently hired) Thrax. The case followed the inconspicuous murder of Leah Estrogen from only a day ago. Apparently, she was killed in her sleep with no visible signs of a struggle and then her corpse was hung upside down from Ozzy’s apartment door with a message from (horrifyingly enough) the late mob boss Scabies. This gave an indication that somehow, he was still alive (even though Thrax had turned him into a pile of goop). The team had split up to find clues and came across one at the memory banks archive in ancient text about a gem that revives the dead. Ozzy and Drix went to go find it only to suddenly get kidnapped by unknown assailants. Thrax was then left a note by Scabies that if he wanted his teammates alive, he would find the item in question and bring it to them. Knowing he had little to no intel on ancient artifacts or spells and apparently had no other options, he sought out some help from his fellow coworkers. They suggested he talk to Aura Zurie since she was one of the few citizens who dabbled in that department given her “recently discovered” heritage. Thrax found this to not only a big help but also a chance to get close to her. Although she grieved for the loss of her foster mother, Leah, certain circumstances would have Thrax find that Aura would be less than willing to help him.

Thrax: (eagerly catches up to Aura as she walked down the street) Hey, baby, wait up!!

Aura: (continues walking on, stubbornly) I have nothing to say to you.

Thrax: (tries to play it cool in attempts to charm her) Aw come on, baby. I thought it would a nice opportunity to reconnect… (whispers in her ear) especially given our “special” history together.

Aura: (stops dead in her tracks before turning around facing him, angrily stating) First of all, as far as I’m concerned, we have no history. Secondly, I know why you came breezing down my path and I’m not pulling the pin on that grenade. I made the mistake of trusting you once all those years ago. And in return, it destroyed what was left of the innocence that was my life. I’ll be damned if I get involved with you and make the same mistake again (turns her back to him and proceeds to continue walking on)

Thrax: (feels guilty, knowing she was right but decides to play on her insecurities as a last resort, sighing) Well, I guess I can’t fault you there. I don’t blame you for not wanting to help. But even if you don’t, just know…it’s not your fault.

Aura: (halts with wide eyes upon hearing those words, flashes back to her mother on her deathbed when she was a child uttering those same words)

-FLASHBACK-

*Lisa: (sick in bed, barely stable) I’m afraid I don’t have the strength to go on any further. I’m sorry, Aura. I’m going to leave you all alone.

*Aura: (tearfully holds her mother’s hand) Please don’t go, Mommy

*Lisa: (weakly smiles while cupping little Aura’s cheek, wiping her tears away) Don’t cry, sweetie. I know it’s hard, but you must be strong and endure. I just wish your father could have been here with us (coughs) but know that he did love you very much. I love you, Aura. If things were different back then, we could have become a happy family. Even though my life was turned upside down, I don’t regret having you for a daughter. Just know, this is not your fault (utters before her hand falls from Aura, dying peacefully)

*Aura: (tears fall as she screams agony)

-END OF FLASHBACK-

Aura: (hears the words “Your fault” torment her mind over and over until her mental barrier suddenly breaks down from the inflicted guilt, shouting painfully while barely keeping her composure) WHAT’S WRONG, THRAX!?

Thrax: (surprised he got through to her and gave her the details [unfortunately more details than necessary for dick-move torment]) Well, I suppose it all started when I was born, my mother…

Aura: (facepalms her eyes before pulling the metaphorical pin off the grenade in her mind, groaning) Uuuuuuuuuugh….

Knowing this would take long, they stopped a nearby pub where Thrax continued the conversation for several hours until finally getting the main point for why he sought her out in the first place. He explained how Jones and Drix had disappeared and somehow Scabies was alive demanding for the artifact they were previously looking for in order to bring Leah back. Aura’s brain was about ready to implode from all the mental torture.

Thrax: (continues) …and then that old fart of a germ left this note stating where he was and that he had Jones and the cold pill. And unless the gem is given to the old codger, they can kiss their asses goodbye. And, well…you know the rest, baby.

Aura: (bangs her head on the table repeatedly from the long conversation until Thrax finishes, vents her frustration) GOD, DO I EVER!!! I CAN NEVER UN-KNOW!!! These nuclei receivers could have been used to formulate the perfect strategy in solving this case! Instead, they’ve memorized the different types and amounts of beatings you used to receive since you were four!!!

Thrax: (makes a callous reference) Yeah, much like you, my mother was one emotionally unstable bitch

Aura: (retorts sarcastically) Yeah, I know. And it’s because of that shit to this day, you are still a continuously blunt, all-around, never-ending ASSHOLE!!! (calms down after getting it all out of her system, sighs) Look, if I tell what you need to know about your stupid rock, will you leave me alone?

Thrax: (corrects her) Gem.

Aura: (annoyed) Honey, no language on Earth has a word for how little I care. A quantum super-computer calculating for a thousand years could not even approach the numbers FUCKS I do not give. The friggin’ heat death of the universe could not-

Thrax: Baby, are you going to tell me or not?

Aura: Eh, sure. Whatever. Allegedly, the once lush garden of Frank that was closed off (due to the strange death tolls) was turned into a restricted grave site called “The Valley of Remembrance”. At its center is a jeweled staff known as the Archangel’s Beacon which can pin-point the exact location of the Revival Gem.

Thrax: (mildly happy to hear this news) Seriously, then let’s go get it right now!

Aura: (halts him) Upbupbup, cool your jets, Hot-Shot. There’s more to it than that. For one thing, the gem can easily work on viruses at any time of death, within 15 years for germs and bacteria, but won’t work for cells 3 days after death. And seeing as how a day and a half has gone by already, not to mention you just spent the last 7 HOURS making me consider the pros and cons of a lobotomy via soup spoon, I’d say you got your work cut out for ya.

Thrax: (shocked by this news, eager to get going with only one day left) Oh boy! Well, let’s get going. We’ve got no time to lose (cups his hands around hers)

Aura: (brow twitches before giving her answer) Yeah, about that…

Aura was suddenly outside the pub walking through the crowd of cells out at night, minding their own business. Thrax trudged alongside her confused by the answer she gave him.

Thrax: (hysterically states his predicament) What do you mean you’re not going?! This is completely different from my life on the run trying set a record and getting into the medical books. I don’t know the unknown territories of this body like you do nor what dangers to expect from any of this. I could die on my own!

Aura: I believe I made myself clear about my number of FUCKS and willingness to give them.

Scabies: (pops out of nowhere looking worse for wear in many ways) Ebola Boy? Oh my god, how are you? I believe the last time we met was….oh yeah! When you sliced me up and painted the steam room floor with my carcass

Thrax: (expresses rather irritably, but restrains himself not wanting lose it and kill the only suspect they had in this case, grunting) Fiiine…

Scabies: (mockingly) And where’s the old crew? Haven’t seen them for quite some time

Thrax: They’re dead. Much like how you’ll be again if you don’t beat it.

Scabies: (feigns caring nature) Aww, ain’t that a pity? You at least make some good trophies out of em’?

Thrax: (disgusted) AW HELL NO!! I may be one sick sadistic motherfucker but I ain’t that sick, old man!

Scabies: Ah, such a waste…

Aura: (callously adds on) He’s right you know. Keeping specific remains of your enemies can make for some pretty-sick trophies.

Thrax: (annoyed) Okay, seriously, Aura!? That’s not funny. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a gem to find, two idiots to save, and a dead broad to revive.

Scabies: (looks to Aura scanning over with familiarity) Oh, Aura is it? You his new girl? Well, ain’t you a saucer of cream! It’s so nice to see that even the legendary Ebola-knockoff found someone on his level.

Thrax: (growls at the remark and how he was looking at Aura)

Aura: (laughs casually before eyes widen, clearly insulted) Ehehehe…What?

Scabies: Oh no, it’s cute. I just love the whole “tough-girl” persona ya got goin’ on here. Very convincing. Well, don’t wanna take up any more your time. Sure you sweet kids got a lot to do. I’m sure you’ll have no problem clearing “The Valley of Remembrance”.

Thrax: (attempts to speak for Aura) Actually, Aura just made it clear that she’s not-

Aura: (slightly deranged) Come on, Thrax. We got two idiots and a broad to save (starts walking past Scabies)

Thrax: (walks beside her rather delighted) So, you’re actually gonna help now? Well alright! Operation: Damage Control is a go (places his arm around her)

Aura: (firmly) Don’t touch me

Thrax: Still not there yet?

Aura: Not even close.

Scabies: (smiles wryly)

Thrax and Aura had stopped at a nearby inn for the night in order to get an early start on their mission for the Revival Gem. However, some would come to find it difficult to sleep that night. By morning, they had left the inn and made their way to the Valley of Remembrance where Thrax burned off seal to the gate to save time. Aura lead the way through the silent yet beautiful gardens and enchanted glades. It was all lovely but had an eeriness to it considering there was not one living thing around thus hinting to the term “silent as the grave”.

Aura: (calmly yet alert) Keep your eyes and ears open for anything. There’s no telling what might be lurking around.

Thrax: (smugly) Please. There ain’t nothin’ Big Daddy Thrax can’t handle.

Aura: (rolls her eyes, grunts) Uuugh

Thrax walked on casually next to Aura. He figured this would be a good opportunity to try to get close to her. But given the atmosphere, he wasn’t entirely sure how to break the ice nor certain if she even wanted to talk. Aura was unsure of a couple things too but figured she’d ask just to be sure.

Aura: (chuckles awkwardly) Hey, uh, random question. Uh, you didn’t hear anything…weird last night…Did you?

Thrax: (ponders back to last night) Uuuuuh….

 -FLASHBACK-

*Aura: (cries loudly through the wall) Momma Lisa!!! (cries more) Oh god, why couldn’t I save you?! Why?! Momma! MOMMA!!! (cries even more)

*Thrax: (hears her sorrowful wails in confusion unable to sleep)

-END OF FLASHBACK-

 Thrax: (slightly goes bright crimson, goes into immediate denial not wanting to say the wrong thing) Uh, no. Definitly not. I’m like a super heavy sleeper, so… (walks on)

Aura: (laughs nervously) Good, good (clears throat) Yeah, sleep is…sleep is good (continues walking)

Thrax: (comes to her, curiously) Sooooooo…Who’s Momma Lisa?

Aura: (snaps) I KNEW IT!!!

At the same time of her outburst, random vines sudden bursts out from bushes and quickly wrapped around Thrax’s ankles, lifting him straight off the ground. The vines revealed to belong to a giant Audrey II-like plant monster that became attracted to closest heat source. It opened its trap preparing to devour Thrax.

Aura: (slightly giggles at Thrax’s awkward predicament)

Thrax: (screams at the sudden lift coming face-to-face with the monster, embarrassment sets in as this was happening in front of Aura of all people) AAAAAAAAAAHH!!! Baby don’t stare at me like this!!

Aura: (yells in response) First off, I’m not your baby so quit calling me that! Secondly, I think you have more pressing concerns!!

Thrax: (slashes around frantically) Well, WHAT DO I DO?!

Aura: Just stay calm. You already have everything you need to beat it.

Thrax: (responds sarcastically) Oh, and what’s that? The power to believe in myself?

Aura: (irritated that Thrax was deliberately trying pluck a nerve) Noooooo, your claw, smartass!! Stab it!!

Thrax: Oh…right (slices off the vines from his ankles before diving at the plant beast, burying his claw straight through and causing it to explode before landing safely on the ground)

Aura: (sighs, locking arms Thrax against her better judgement) Yeah, maybe you should stick closer to me. Those things are attracted to heat and will not think twice about snuffing it out. And seeing as how you’re walking blazing inferno, you’re aggroing everything in this place.

Thrax: (blushes a bit then puts back on the “tough guy” façade before pulling away from her with a smirk) First off, if it’s one thing I know how to turn up and down, baby, it’s heat. Secondly, there’s need no need to worry your pretty, little head. Big Daddy Thrax can take care of himself (walks ahead before suddenly stepping on a random vine which woke up several more plant monsters, screaming) AAAAAAAAAAHH!!! BAAABYYYYYYY!!!!!

Aura: (raises a brow, unimpressed before sighing) This is gonna be my whole day, isn’t it?

After saving Thrax’s hide many a time from becoming every plant’s main course, they had finally reached the center of the valley. There atop an ancient pedestal stood the bejeweled Archangel’s Beacon staff in all its shiny, dusty, cobweb-covered glory.

Thrax: (grabs the staff) Hey, look. There it is!

Aura: Alright, now all we need is the dust!

Thrax: (excited before suddenly catching on to her sudden remark) Yeah- wait, what do you mean?

Aura: Well, I mean, we’re going need the Spark Powder to activate the staff. And we can only purchase said powder from the only drug dealer in this part of Frank who deals in the mystical department (for a certain price). Then once activated, the staff will guide us to the stronghold containing the gem where we’ll navigate ourselves through a series of traps within the catacombs (where most people would never think to look first), leading us to said gem and hopefully the quickest path to the throne/ritual room.

Thrax: (felt like his head was about to explode from the news) That’s INSANE! Just how paranoid were these people?! And since when did this magic stuff get so complicated?!

Aura: You don’t know much about Viral Ancient History or Magic, do you?

They continued their mission in hunting down the only drug dealer, Methadoneus Papaver, who contained the mystical Spark Powder. Once found at a nearby Opium Den, they could see the place was full of ill-repute as there were several Opius female germs publicly seducing several male cells on either ends of the establishment. When they all caught sight of Thrax, they brushed pass the others to gather around him since they never had a virus visit before (let alone a tall, strong, and handsome one). Though Thrax was flattered, he was more concerned with the mission at hand. Seeing as how it would take longer pushing through to get to Meth, Aura decided to take the high road and push Thrax into the crowd of horny germs who wasted no time in smothering him. Thrax was completely helpless in this situation. While he was known for being quite the “Ladies Man” & “Lady Killer”, he never had to deal with so many girls at once.

Aura: Hey look, girls! A present! (pushes Thrax into the Sea of Opius girls)

Thrax: Whoa!! (sees predicament he was suddenly in as the girls wasted no time going down on him, screaming out) NOOOOOO!!! They’re soooo hornyyyyyy!!!!

Aura: (caddy) But I thought there wasn’t anything Big Daddy Thrax couldn’t handle.

Thrax: (glares at her menacingly) Oh, you are SO gonna pay for that later!!

Aura: (chuckles sarcastically) Relax, this won’t take long. If anything, I’ll probably be down by the time you finish (heads upstairs the main den)

Once she found Meth, she got straight to the point about the Spark Powder. He attempted to hustle from her a ridiculous price as that was one of his rarest products that tended to go out quick. He even caused greater insult by trying to get Aura to “entice” the deal further. Meth asked her how much she thought the powder was worth believing she couldn’t do much to threaten him since she was a cop or the fact that she was just a dumb pheromone capable of only screwing her way to the top. But that was a mistake he would soon come to regret. The room suddenly went dark as Aura wasted no time in suddenly grabbing him by the throat, brandishing her claws near his chest, bearing fangs, and her crimson red eyes flashing gold as a warning. Getting the picture, Meth gave her a 75% discount on the powder in exchange for not killing him. When the lights came back on in the room, Aura warned him not to push his luck from now on before heading back down only to find that all the girls completely whored out and Thrax looking an absolute mess, barely keeping his composure and covered in kissy marks.

Aura: (looks over in shock and disbelief) DAAAMN!!! When I said I’d be down by the time you were finished, I was kidding!! But…DAMN!! (sees all the girls with blissful satisfied looks on their faces) Who would have thought you had that kind of stamina. Remind me never to question your libido again.

Thrax: (pants in moderate exhaustion) I never thought…in a million years…that I’d have to screw my way…out of a jam…like that. You got what we need?

Aura: (holds up the bag with the powder) Right here.

Thrax: Good (weakly grabs her by the collar, pulling her close to him) So don’t you EVER…do that…AGAIN!!

Aura: (pushes him off before dusting the staff with the powder) Oh, chill. I thought you would appreciate a group of women going ga-ga over you. (snarky) At least they’re the only ones dumb and horny enough to anyway. Now let’s get going, nearly half the day is gone and we’re running out of time.

Thrax: (grunts, thinking in frustration) *Why do I bother with this girl*

The staff glowed and blinked leading them to the gem’s location. When they were nearing the end of their journey, they came to the stronghold known as Mrsa Castle where they found a secret door leading to the catacombs. Just far up ahead was the Revival Gem on a pedestal. They made their way up to the end when suddenly trap after trap went off as they narrowly escape each one (especially Thrax as he was already worn out the orgy earlier). By the time they had barely made it out of the traps alive, they grabbed the gem and luckily found an elevator that lead them straight to the center of the throne room.

Aura: Man, I thought we were done after that 7th trap with the spiked wrecking balls, but then BAM!! There’s number #8 with the projectile acid worms!

Thrax: (less than enthusiastic) I just…I just want to go home.

Aura: (stops Thrax in his tracks) Wait. Hold on, Thrax. Do mine eyes deceive me?! Tis the fable Blob Throne of Staphylococcus Aureus! A being of microscopic knowledge and devourer of souls! Quickly, good sir! We must spirit away before- Oh my god! Will you just come out already?!

Scabies: (comes out from behind the throne and sat down in all his zombified glory) Well, for a pheromone you’ve got some rather keen instincts for you to have known I was here.

Aura: (casually) Scabies?! Oh my god, how are yo- Oh god, wow, that’s enough of that. (disgusted) Jesus, how do you put up that act all day?

Scabies: Ah, so you saw through me, did ya? You’re quite the clever pisha to haves figured I was once leader of the Sweat Gang

Aura: (laughs) The Sweat Gang? Wow, I thought you might be someone more dangerous, like Thrax over here or even Ebola! Never even heard of you.

Thrax: (looks to her, mildly blushing at the partial compliment)

Scabies: (confidently) Laugh all you like. We’re still one of the most feared gangs in the restricted zones of Frank.

Aura: (snarky) Ooh, impressive. You can frighten cells that think Pollen Pods are terrifying.

Thrax: (points out) Actually, some cells do find them rather terrifying considering Frank’s allergic to them. I mean, when you think about it, have you seen their eyes? They have no souls.

Scabies: Ah, so quick with the snark. Of course, that’s really all ya’ have goin’ on, isn’t it? A witty retort to distract everyone from what you really are. A sad, lonely little girl with no one who loves her. Someone so dead inside, she’d use a lethal virus as bait just to lure me out

Thrax: (defensively) Ok, seriously? My girl may have done some terrible things lately, but I know for a fact that she would never do something that horrible!

Aura: (bluntly) Nah, he’s right. I totally did that.

Thrax: (shocked) What?! How could you do that?!

Aura: Not so much fun when the shoe is on the other foot, is it? Keep in mind that you used and deceived me to meet your ends, remember? I just simply gave you a small taste of your own medicine.

Thrax: (dumbfounded by this newfound sinister change to her personality, though remained silent knowing she was right and should have seen this coming)

Aura: Yeah, that’s what I thought.

Scabies: And to top it all off, you play the “tough girl”. This invincible force you could never hope to be out there in the real world. Getting promoted to the FPD as a top-rated cop was probably the only best thing to ever happen to you. But there’s one thing your position will never let you hide. The one thing that’s haunted you your whole life, that you can never escape…

Aura: (narrows her eyes in annoyance)

Scabies: (smiles smugly) You are the bastard child of former cop-turned-all-around-whore. And trust me, I should know. She was one of my top earners

Aura: (laughs) What?! No, I’m not bastard child of a-…my mother wasn’t a-… (slips into psychotic laughter, finally snapping from the repressed memories of her dear mother) That’s crazy. That’s CRAZY!! HAHAHAHA!!!

Thrax: (looks at her worriedly) Uuuuh, baby, you feelin’ a’ight?

Scabies: Well, looks like my work here is done. I do so enjoy our chats, but I really have a ritual to get going. We’ll be taking the Revival Gem now, if you don’t mind.

Aura: (deranged) Really? Little old you is going to take from us? That’d be a neat TRICK!!

Scabies: Indeed. But a magician is nothing without his lovely assistants (snaps his fingers, giving a signal)

Suddenly, the old crew of the Sweat Gang suddenly came out of their hiding places looking as bad as Scabies. Like Scabies, they were all zombies out for revenge and ready to strike up some mayhem the second they were back to normal. The largest of the crew soon dragged two familiar faces tied up securely

Ozzy: (expresses joyfully upon seeing them) THRAX!! BABY GIRL!!! Boy, aren’t you two a sight for soar eyes!! It’s the funniest thing really. We found out the gem was here as well and came to retrieve it. And we would have called but (chuckles) these guys nabbed us out the blue and we’ve been trapped here ever since. (put on his usual facade) But of course not before Germinator Daddy opened a can of WHUP-ASS in honor of your moth-

Drix: (interrupts) Uh, Ozzy? I’d hate to interrupt such a “tearful” reunion, but do you think it could wait until after we’re rescued?

Thrax: How the hell are these clowns alive anyway?

Drix: (explains) It would appear when you killed Scabies and what was left him disappeared into the pipes, somehow the pipes were connected to the ones here at Mrsa Castle. The power of gem manifested once it sensed a dead soul, bringing Scabies back from the dead…um, partially. He then used a spell stolen from the archives to bring back the rest of them to seek out revenge. He used all of us to get to the gem so he could fully return all of them and himself to their original states before his 15 years comes to an end tonight!! (points out one last thing) Oh, and right now we’re probably about to die. Did I miss anything?

Ozzy: Uuuuhh, nope. That’s seems about right

All Germs: (start to move in on Thrax & Aura for the kill, snickering sinisterly)

Thrax: (worried, steps in front of Aura defensively) Oh crap, there’s too many of them, baby. I may be tired but that’s never stopped me before. I’ll back you up.

Aura: (places her hand on his shoulder, calmly but still in deranged state) Aww, that’s adorable.

Thrax: (raises a brow, confused) What is?

Aura: You think they’re a threat because we’re out numbered and they’re twice as strong due to them being undead. Well, you just sit tight. Show’s about to start. Careful, though. The first 3 rows are a ♫splash zone♫ (walks ahead of Thrax)

Thrax: (goes wide-eyed, worried) Baby, what do you mean by that?

Aura: (laughs psychotically)

Aura had officially snapped. As if things weren’t bad enough when she was reminded of her guilt. Or when she unknowingly aided Thrax in his plans to take down Frank when she was a child. Or when others saw her as a monster or a dumb pheromone whose only purpose in life is to screw or to kill just because she was born half-cell and half-virus. She could deal with all the taunts and slanders. But the moment someone insults her mother, the one organism in all of Frank that brought her into this world and held dear to her heart, that’s the moment when all she can see is red and loses her mind completely. All of that became clear when the entire throne room suddenly got darker and started to freak everyone out, especially Thrax. He had never seen her like this or any cell or virus with this kind of aura. He actually found it to be more terrifying than he was. It was at that moment Thrax realized all that she had to endure from the time of her birth, through her mother’s death, and living as an orphan on the street for years treated poorly by everyone in Frank. But the worst of it was when he walked into her life and used her in his scheme even though she trusted him, believing she had finally found a friend. His betrayal became the official turning point for what she was now. And the germs who were set to kill, started to get nervous and began to think otherwise about the whole situation.

Joe Cramp: (concerned) Um, boss? A-A thought occurs. This cop thought she was going up against someone as dangerous as Ebola, yet she brought herself and our…former boss. We sure we wanna mess with this chick?

Scabies: (callously confident) Please! The girl is all talk! And now that I’ve broken her, she’s not even THAT, anymore! She’s nothing but a gibbering mess, grasping at straws!

Aura: (still emanating the dark presence) Ooh, another one of your famous theories! Tell ya what. I’ll give you the first shot (eye twitches) See how that goes!

Joe Cramp: (thinks momentarily before concluding) Boss, I think this might be a trap.

Scabies: (abruptly) Enough! You’re all undead with twice your normal strength and there’s SEVEN of you! I think you’ve got this!

Aura: (smiles wryly, baring her fangs and eyes glowing yellow like a cat)

Scabies: Now, kill her!!

In a flash, they all came bearing down on her with no restraint. Each one either slashed at her with claws, beat her with a club, bit at her, stabbed her with knives, etc. And the whole time, she stood there not screaming in pain or giving in an inch. This made the others worry and wonder why she was refusing to do anything.

Drix: (shocked at the damage being done) Oh no, I knew it! Scabies must’ve really gotten into her head! She’s not even fighting back.

Ozzy: (worried for his adoptive daughter urges Thrax to help) Thrax, don’t just stand there! Help her!!

Thrax: (snaps out of it, adjusting himself while getting ready to jump in, thinking) *Oh, baby. Now I understand completely. It’s my fault this all happened to you. And right now, you need me more than ever* Well, I guess it’s up to me to save her or else-

Aura: (smiles as one of her wounds suddenly healed instantly along with the rest of her injuries)

Thrax: (stops in his tracks, stunned at the sight) Wait what?

All Germs: (pants, completely exhausted and shocked that she didn’t scream or go down after all they did to her)

Aura: Man, you guys are out of shape! Really oughta do some cardio.

Scabies: (frustrated) What are you Sissy Marys’ doing?! Quit screwing around and finish her!

Bruiser: (pants) I don’t understand, Boss! We threw everything we had at her! How is she still standing?!

Aura: How? Well, it’s quite simple, really. You see, ASSHOLE, you may think you’ve got all figured out. True, I was born a pheromone cell but that’s only half of it. There’s just one thing you didn’t account for.

Scabies: (getting angry)

Aura: As it turns out, the 2nd half of my makeup…is Chiroptera DNA!

Ozzy: (confused) Chiro-what now?

Drix: (explains) If I may, Chiroptera is the scientific classification order of bats more particularly the common vampire bat. They have many known diseases with one being the only rarest exception among them. And that rare disease is known as the legendary Draculine virus.

All: (gasps)

Ozzy: (curious) And you know this how?

Drix: (admitted truthfully) I studied her during that time she was in the hospital fighting Thrax’s venom. I managed to dig up some research on the subject as well as her background. I felt it was necessary for future medical reasons should you need it.

Aura: (sarcastically explains, chuckling) It’s funny how life works really. A respected female cop doing her job has an unexpected run-in with a virus that later puts her in a position she has absolutely no control over. Said events soon results into a half-breed child who eventually loses everything. But after years of loneliness and hell, you hoped you finally found someone whom you could trust that you felt connected to. And that goes out the window when he stabs you in the back in more ways than one and leaves you drifting in the void between this world and the next. Suddenly, the part of you that you didn’t know existed ends up being the thing that saves you from a near-death experience. Get to that point in your life where that side brings out more in you emotionally and physically, turning you a lethal force to be reckon with, and you’re basically untouchable. My wounds heal faster than you can make them. We could do this all day and you dumbasses would not be any closer to killing me. (laughs) Not that it wouldn’t be fun. But I’ve got good news! You see, there’s no need to wonder where your God is. Cause she’s right here… (whispers menacingly) and she’s fresh out of mercy.

All Germs: (whimpers and cries in terror)

Scabies: (scared, finally fed up) W-Well, way to prove my point, bitch! Lording your origins over them like some kind of god! Your strength is nothing but an illusion to cover-

Aura: (blazes swiftly like a gust of wind)

And what happened next shocked everyone. When everyone looked up, Aura was no longer where she was. They turned see that she was where Scabies was, who looked pale with fear as blood came out the corner of his mouth. It was at the moment they all could see something big and slimy pulsating. Aura had drove her claws deep into Scabies, creating a huge hole in his chest and ripped his barely beating heart through his back. Never had anyone there seen someone do anything so ruthless without hesitation or mercy. Scabies was shocked by this revelation as well as he weakly turned to meet her deadly gaze.

Ozzy & Drix: (shocked and horrified at the scene)

All Germs: (jaws dropped in shocked)

Thrax: (shocked and amazed, yet horrified)

Scabies: (whimpers, choking on his blood) Uuuugh….

Aura: (whispers before crushing his heart with her bare claws) I’m gettin’ real tired of your first-year-psych-student bullshit.

Scabies: (weakly) Enjoy this…while you can. It’s the deepest…a man will never be…in…you (goes up in blue flames disappearing from existence)

All Germs: (go up blue flames as well at the death of their master)

Thrax: (stares in confusion of everything that just transpired)

Aura: Yeah, well, you’re dead, soooooooooooo…. (frustrated, unable give a retort) DAMMIT!!!

An hour had passed since the incident. Aura sat on the throne staring off into space with a soulless gaze. Ozzy and Drix were still in shock that she had that kind of force in her and were worried for the well being of her current mental state. Thrax was even more worried for Aura as he was still processing the fact that this was all his fault for turning her into this, feeling untold guilt that she had become as ruthless and virulent as he was. It was all completely opposite of the sweet soul she used to be. Unable to bear the silence anymore, one of them had to speak up.

Thrax: (came up and sat beside her, concerned) Soooooo…how are you doing, baby?

Aura: (glumly) Fine. Why?

Drix: (points out) Well, you did just kill someone.

Ozzy: Which in turn killed a bunch more.

Thrax: As someone who’s killed more than his fair share of organisms, I usually feel a great sense of satisfaction from it. Which makes me kinda wonder, doesn’t that make you feel…something?

Aura: (nonchalantly) Oh, feelings? Yeah, thanks to you, I no longer have those. Went cold turkey

Ozzy: (shocked) What?! Baby girl, you can’t just do that! What’s the point in living if you can’t feel happiness, wonder, love…?

Aura: (lights up a little) Or the sweet taste of revenge! You’re right, Ozzy! What’s the point in living if I can’t enjoy such simple things?

Thrax: (sighs before lightly smiling) Close enough.

Aura: (feels a slightly new sense of being) You guys are good friends. We should go on more missions like this.

Drix: Um, I don’t think so

Ozzy: Don’t take this the wrong way, sweetie. We’re grateful for your help, but you’re-…

Thrax: Like the worst person we’ve ever had to work with.

Aura: (silent for a moment before responding) Is that your big plan? Huh? Make me feel feelings so you can cut me down a peg? That cuts deep, guys. But I respect that.

Ozzy: Yeah, that’s kinda the problem. But I suppose it’ll all be worth it to have Leah back.

Aura: That’s the spirit. Let’s get started.

They set up the ritual circle where Drix took Leah’s corpse out of his compartment (to keep her body from decaying) and laid her in the center. Using her blood, Aura brought the Revival Gem to Leah’s body. As the drop of blood glowed from the gem’s power, it fell onto the body making it glow brightly. It got brighter and brighter until suddenly…

Gem Voice: *Lifeline time limit has expired*

Leah: (goes up in blue flames, disappearing)

Ozzy: (stares in shock at what just happened)

Aura: I’m…sorry for your loss

Ozzy: (bloodcurdlingly screams) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!

The aftermath of that incident was no better. After everything they went through, it was all a waste. And now Ozzy was running around the streets of Frank going on rampage, having officially lost the love of his life.

Thrax, Aura, & Drix: (suffers Ozzy’s wrath with some rather critical injuries, shocked)

Thrax: He took that well.

[sheweapon]

                                THE WHOLE FUCKING FIRE.

                                            bellatrix hecate lestrange.                                                          thirty four. head of the                                                         department of magical                                                    accidents and catastrophes.                                            + daring, passionate, ambitious, clever.                                             - sadistic, two faced, cruel, unstable.                                                                death eater.

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QUICK STATS:

name: bellatrix hecate lestrange occupation: head of the department of magical accidents and catastrophes. former house: slytherin. date of birth: december 23. age: 34.

BIRTH AND EARLY YEARS:

So. It’s a cold December night, right before Christmas, and the Black mansion is shaken by blood curdling screams. It’s the kind that leaves you breathless, shivers running down your spine, leaving you with the sense that something is very, very wrong. Which, Druella Black fears that it very well might be —- because her (expected) son is four weeks early.

The birth is excruciatingly long and difficult for poor, poor Druella, but when the clock strikes eleven on the night before Christmas, a girl comes crashing into the world. She’s not what they expect, nor what they want, and she never cries — instead, she just watches them with those big black eyes that always seem to be appraising something.

-

Though Bellatrix’s birth was mostly an unwelcome surprise ( she came too early, and it was no secret that her parents had hoped for a boy ), she was also the first child to carry on the Black legacy, which was an honor. A necessity.

As a baby, she was small and meager. Nurses whispered about the Black baby that could barely muster a scream, that seemed so frail. Like she might break at any second. But that memory would soon fade and be replaced by a much more unpleasant one - because Bellatrix’s bones hardened, her skin thickened, her eyes grew meaner. Within a few years, any trace of that soft baby was gone, and instead, a cruel toddler took her place.

As a child, Bella was vicious. Biting, clawing, screaming and cursing were things she picked up fast, and she’d terrorize the other kids at the playground ( with an almost scary aim for her muggle born / half blood peers ).

Once she reached the age of seven, she calmed down a bit, and instead started following her father around ( and was lovingly referred to as his ‘little shadow’ ). Eager to prove herself, she learned everything that a son of Cygnus would have learnt. She was determined to show her father that being a girl would not stop her from becoming worthy of the Black throne, to carry his name with pride. Over the years of her childhood and adolescence, Bellatrix forged herself into the golden girl, a respectable heir in the making. Desperate to wear the crown.

Under her father’s influence, uncontrollable rage was switched in for an eerie quietness, anger instead boiling right below the surface, just waiting to be unleashed. She was so eager to please, to sculpt herself into whatever he wanted, so she suppressed her emotions the best she could, even though it never felt natural. And so, the nurses whispered again, but this time, it was about her sweet, sweet smile, matched with those mean, mean eyes. ‘Doesn’t it look distorted? Like that damn Cheshire cat. Something’s not right about that girl, I’m telling you. She came out wrong’.

Behind closed doors, Cygnus also encouraged Bella’s darker side. Introduced her to the dark arts and the chaos that she would later come to love so desperately.

Most of her childhood was characterized by harsh words, strict rules and high expectations. Her family’s reputation weighed heavy on her shoulders, constantly pressuring her to excel. Luckily, she shared her parents’ ambition and values, and had no problems conforming to their rule. Which also meant that she could get away with much else. As long as she remained the golden girl, Bellatrix could run wild and free.

HOGWARTS YEARS:

Bellatrix had been duly prepped before arriving at Hogwarts. She was the first of their children to walk the halls, so it was important to both Druella and Cygnus that Bellatrix knew how to behave. Who to fraternize with. Who to avoid. Who was worthy of her time. Her parents had also made sure that she already had the appropriate friends — and play dates with other pureblood kids were a common occurrence when Bellatrix was younger.

At school, Bellatrix was popular —- the resident cool girl. The type of girl that hardly ever objects to anything, because she is always down to have a good time. The type of girl that loves Quidditch, dirty jokes and cheap beer. The type of girl that hides her true colors, at least for a while. Until she explodes.

So Bella kept out of trouble, for the most part. There were a couple…. incidents, with muggleborns. One or two may have been turned into rats and toads ( under the guise of it being a joke — can’t you take a joke, come on now? ). More serious things have been strictly forgotten by everyone involved. Powerful parents will do the trick. Mostly though, Bellatrix kept to her fellow Slytherins… biding her time. Waiting to strike.

She played for the Slytherin Quidditch team, as a beater, and was eventually made captain ( nothing less for a child of Cygnus, she must excel ). During her time on the team, she was notorious for her cruel playing style, her foul tricks, the constant smirk on her lips as other players fell to the ground.

And during her sixth year, she was eventually recruited into the Death Eaters. And with them, she found a second home, quickly rising through the ranks.

AFTER HOGWARTS:

After graduating from Hogwarts, Bellatrix took a year off from her studies. The official reason was that she needed to “find herself”. Whatever the fuck that meant. Obviously, it was a lie to hide what she was really up to. In reality, Bellatrix was at Voldemort’s side, learning leglilimency and occlumency, all the while developing her dark magic and her shitty personality.

Quickly became Voldemort’s personal attack dog, always willing to do his bidding, no questions asked.

At the age of nineteen, Bellatrix found work as an obliviator. Though the choice had ultimately been hers to make, the dark lord was always whispering in her ear, encouraging her to infiltrate the ministry. The goal was to have sleeper agents of death eaters in every department once it was time to go to war. It also helped that becoming an oblivator just made sense — fucking with the minds of muggles could already be counted as a hobby (albeit a twisted one), and she had always been good at taking things that didn’t belong to her… Memories would be no different.

Became a senior obliviator at twenty five, which was early, but still not early enough for her, you feel.

And so, at the age of thirty two, Bellatrix came to find herself as the head of the department of magical accidents and catastrophes. There, she got another taste of the power that drives her, that maddens her.

She is genuinely good at her job - even though she’s totally corrupt and obviously does most things in the interest of the death eaters.

Will occasionally throw pureblood galas, but isn’t too invested in them. They’re just for show.

Among the Death Eaters, Bellatrix is in the inner circle. She considers herself the dark lord’s right hand, and prides herself on being his most loyal servant.

Bellatrix also has a pet snake, lovingly named Medusa. We love her.

PERSONALITY:

First of all - Bellatrix is a fucking shit show and we all know this.

She is like night and day —– and her temper switches incredibly quickly, which makes her unpredictable, a little scary. She can go from the girl her family forced her to be - the Socialite, the Sophisticated Woman, the Cool Girl, to something far more sinister in the matter of minutes. Sometimes less.

When she’s at her worst, Bellatrix is cruel, sadistic, self righteous, impulsive, angry as hell, deranged, unstable, manipulative, a little bit unhinged, ruthless, playful, childish and absolutely lethal. It’s always brewing right below, so close to the surface, just waiting to come out.

But she’s also calculating, clever, quick on her feet, intensely passionate, fiercely loyal (until she’s… not), adaptable, intuitive and assertive.

Bella often contradicts herself — she has grown up believing that it’s best to be cold and devoid of emotions (#thanks dad), but she’s a highly emotional person by nature. She tries to suppress that as best as she can, but she usually boils over pretty fast. Other emotions are usually translated into anger as well, so that’s fun. I think the best way to describe her is that she’s just fire, always burning hot or cold.

Voldemort’s influence on her is also really important!! His influence poisons her mind, her soul, her heart. The darkness that was already there is amplified, becomes a thousand times worse. Though already a skilled witch, he introduced her to magic she could only have dreamed of — and that power became corruptive, addictive. For power, Bella would gladly pay the steep price of sacrificing her soul, her humanity.

Bellatrix really does think that she is in the right.

Also probably thinks that she’s better than everyone else at all times. There’s definitively an air of arrogance surrounding her.

Mrs Lestrange thinks that she’s invincible, and likes walking a little too close to the cliff’s edge ( playing with fire ). Will occasionally drop hints that she COULD be a death eater, but never goes too far with it. And if someone suggests that she is one, she acts like that’s absolutely outrageous. How dare you imply that I am affiliated with anything… !

Okay so, I am convinced that Bellatrix doesn’t reach peak evil + instability until after Voldemort’s fall and Azkaban, so I’m really trying to tone her down a bit and give the influence of her upbringing ( + her nature ) a bigger role in the person that she becomes. Hence why she is a little better at hiding her true colors, a little more refined. : ~ ) Though, she’s still the hammer ( doesn’t have the most finesse, mostly just likes getting things done, her technique isn’t exactly intricate, but ALWAYS effective ).

Even if most people probably don’t know that she’s a death eater ( though some probably suspect lbr ), she has a very intimidating presence. That’s her brand. And she still has that Weird Aura about her, like there is something that isn’t quite right, so that could also weird people out.

STYLE / FASHION / APPEARANCE:

Bellatrix has jet black eyes and the hair to match. It falls in soft curls over her shoulders, down her back.

Usually wears dark red lipstick.

She hides her dark mark with a concealment spell while out in public.

Dresses mostly in black. Has to wear clothes that can fit into the muggle world while at work, occasionally, while out and about. While there, she wears a well worn leather jacket ( with shoulder pads, in true 70s style, we love a style icon ), and wide, black pants.

Files her nails into long claws, and paints them black.

Is tall. Likes towering over people.

Her cheekbones could cut a bitch.

AESTHETICS / VIBES:

black dresses, whispered hexes, broken champagne glasses, the calm before the storm, bullets caught between teeth, a constant paradox, skin stained black and blue, a devilish grin, ‘is that wine or blood on your carpet?’, snakes wrapped around wrists, mean eyes, always running hot and cold, a cheshire cat’s smile, soft laughter as the light leaves your eyes, divine violence, a taste of the approaching revolution / the new world order, quiet desperation, family heirlooms, unwavering loyalty, sudden fits of rage, emerald lockets, double lives, ‘would you still like me with my hands around your neck?’, no conscience, silent promises, taunting you with her very last breath, the hardest of hearts, dried blood on expensive clothes and a quiet conviction that this will all make sense in the end.

CHARACTER INFLUENCES:

amy dunne ( gone girl )

jamie moriarty ( elementary )

glory / glorificus ( btvs )

villanelle ( killing eve )

jennifer blake ( teen wolf )

klaus mikaelson ( tvd )

kilgrave ( jessica jones )

lilith ( supernatural )

drusilla ( btvs )

helena ( orphan black )

faith lehane ( btvs )

mazikeen ( lucifer )

FAVORITE CHARACTER TROPES:

SLASHER SMILE - a smile in anticipation of pain or death // a cheshire cat grin.

THE DRAGON - a monster the hero has to get past to get at the big bad. the top enforcer.

TORTURE TECHNICIAN -  takes the heroes and turn them into screaming, shinned shambles.

LADY MACBETH - frequently more crazy than her husband, quite the sociopath, in the business of turning men towards evil.

EVIL WEARS BLACK - duh.

DISSONANT SERENITY - someone smiling gently in the middle of death and carnage, seeming almost enlightened as they slit throats left and right.

THE BERSERKER - throws herself into battle with such reckless abandon, that it seems like she wants to die. never, ever retreats.

THE BARONESS - a female baddie with a chilly disposition and more than a touch of the dominatrix about her.

WICKED CULTURED - evil is intellectual // basically an evil aristocrat.

THE CHESSMASTER - thinking three moves ahead at all times. manipulating, planning, plotting.

DADDY’S LITTLE VILLAIN - shares dark father’s ambitions.

BERSERK BUTTON - always ready to fucking snap.

SOFT SPOKEN SADIST - occasionally. a monster who might describe just how horribly she’s going to mangle you, while speaking in a voice that’s anything but monstrous.

DARK ACTION GIRL - likes beating the hero to a bloody pulp. good at it too.

AMBITION IS EVIL - has grand plans. ends justify the means, always.

[staycalmandlovekpop]

Who You Are

A/N: (Another old request) Sorry anon for super long wait! This was inspired by the K-drama “Kill Me, Heal Me”

Date: March 7, 2018 Patient: Im Jaebum Diagnosis: Dissociative Identity Disorder/Multiple Personality disorder 

Observations of the Personalities 1. Im Jaebum (The main original personality) A normal 24 year-old young man who is caring, warm-hearted, active, and emotional. He just wants to be a filial son, good friend, and live out his dreams. Interests: Music, hanging out with friends and family, composing, playing sports, and joking around Note: Due to the fact that the manager of GOT7 didn’t want Jaebum to know that he had hired a private personal nurse for his disorder, I haven’t met him yet. My contract clearly stated that I had to keep my distance from him whenever he returns to his normal state and to only approach him if one of his other personalities came out. He usually feels a sharp pain in his head like a migraine before the personalities come out.

2. JB (The bad boy) Makes himself known as the “charismatic leader of GOT7” but is actually quite stubborn, has a bad temper, is strong-minded, impatient, doesn’t listen to others, the MOST PROBLEMATIC ONE, and is quite selfish. HOW HE WAS CREATED: I suspect that “JB” was born when Jaebum hurt his ankle and couldn’t dance on stage with the other members. He was quite frustrated with himself as he felt that he was letting down his fans and the members. As a the leader and a dancer he wanted to always give it his all on stage, but his injury was preventing him from doing so. The stress had become too overwhelming for him to handle therefore JB was created to help him through tough situations and bear through the pain. INTERESTS: Getting what he wants, singing, dancing, flirting with girls, being in the spotlight, and going to nightclubs. NOTE: He wasn’t very thrilled at first when he found out that GOT7’s manager hired a personal nurse and refuses to listen to me AT ALL. CAN BE SUCH A PAIN IN THE BUTT sometimes. He’s always causing trouble and just does whatever he wishes to do. Sometimes the way he looks at me makes me feel very uncomfortable... He keeps on winking at me and saying “You’ll fall for me one day Muffin~.” He’s also been showing up a lot these days...I wonder why?

3. Seo Mijoon (The Actor) Possibly JB’s “older brother” but whenever I ask him or JB about it, they both deny it profusely. Thinks he’s a worldwide star and assumes that everybody is his fan. Very arrogant, snotty, rude, but is very serious when acting. HOW HE WAS CREATED: After receiving some recognition for his role in Dream High 2, Jaebum began to feel pressured when he got another offer for the drama “When a Man Falls in Love.” I suspect that he studied the script VERY VERY diligently and eventually the lack of sleep and stress got to him causing alter ego Mijoon to be born. It’s quite likely that’s what happened considering this personality adopted Jaebum’s character’s name from the drama. INTERESTS: Being the center of attention, acting, memorizing scripts, fashion, magazines, coffee, signing autographs, modeling, and taking selcas. NOTE: He didn’t care that GOT7’s manager hired a personal nurse at all. To him, I was someone he could order around to do stuff. He treats me like an intern by making me get him coffee, walking his cat(???), driving him to places, buying him magazines, dusting off lint from his clothes with a lint roller, and taking endless pictures of him. Since Jaebum isn’t focused on acting these days, whenever Mijoon comes out I would always catch him stealing Jinyoung’s scripts and practicing lines in his room.  

4. JYP A dorky fun loving ahjussi who is health conscience and is starting to feel his age but still wants to enjoy life to the fullest. Though he exercises and can move around quite well, his knees occasionally go weak and he experiences gastric problems often. HOW HE WAS CREATED: It’s pretty obvious that this personality is based off the CEO of Jaebum’s company. He must be really grateful to Mr. Park Jinyoung for all that he’s done and admire him as an artist as well. INTERESTS: Organic herbal drinks, working out, drinking, partying, dancing, giving people life advice, composing music, playing piano, and wearing glasses. NOTE: He’s a pretty nice ahjussi when he’s not drunk or giving me long lectures about how it’s better to sing with half air half sound and why it’s good to always be honest. Whenever music starts playing, JYP gets into a dancing groove.

You sighed as you finished typing the last note and shut your laptop. You still couldn’t believe that it’s been two weeks since you took this job. Who ever thought that your first official job would be to become a secret private nurse for GOT7’s Im Jaebum? 

It was just three weeks ago when GOT7’s manager came to your senior’s office, asking for someone who is plain, average, and could easily blend in a crowd. Of course your ‘oh so considerate’ senior (and mentor) suggested you, a first-year psychiatry resident who was eager to start working and was basically invisible to everyone in the office. You refused at first, begging your senior to help you find a position elsewhere in a local hospital. You knew how messy things could get in the entertainment field, and you didn’t want to be involved. Even if it was a private job. 

“Kang sunbaenim, please don’t make me do this! What if his fans find out and assume that we’re dating or something?” 

Your senior scoffed. “You? Dating a K-pop idol?” 

You rolled your eyes at him. “I’m serious!! If something happens, all the hard work that I’ve done to get to where I am now will go down the drain!”

He then sighed deeply before placing a hand on your shoulder and looking in you dead in the eye. “Listen. You’re one of my favorite pupils and I know that you can excel in anything you put your heart to. Mr. Im is not only our client, but our patient. A patient that needs to be treated and set free from his inner demons. I know very well that you understand what it’s like to have a disorder and how it can greatly impact someone’s life.” 

You looked away and sighed. Must he always be right?

“Did you ever consider how hard it probably is for him? Having to deal with dissociative identity disorder AND living as a K-pop idol??”

After a week of contemplating, you finally decided to take the job. GOT7’s manager explained to you about how they were hiring a private nurse behind Jaebum’s back, as he would never have approved of it. You also had to swear that you would never let anyone know about Jaebum’s psychological condition, even if it was already a given that every patient’s information is to remain confidential. Since then, you’ve been following GOT7 around. You went to every event, hiding somewhere in the distance like a sasaeng fan and making observations of Jaebum’s behavior. Today’s schedule was filming for the second episode of their reality show called “GOT7’s Showtime.”

“Cut! Good job everyone. We will commence a ten minute break and resume filming shortly.” The PD-nim announced through his megaphone. A moment later, you get a text from the manager:

“You take a break too. I can keep an eye on Jaebum for now.” 

You looked up from your phone and made eye contact with him from afar. He gave you a thumbs up and you nodded in acknowledgment, secretly thanking him since it was an extremely hot day and you really needed a cold drink. You made sure to head the opposite way GOT7 were headed and decided to go to your favorite cafe around the corner. 

“One iced americano please.” You tell the cashier as you dig out your wallet from your bag.

“Okay, that will be ￦3,550 please.”

You opened your wallet to find only a couple bills inside. You had forgotten to get more cash from the bank this weekend. “Do you accept card?” You ask the cashier with a hopeful voice.

“Sorry, but we accept cash only.”

You felt your throat get dry, making your thirst for a cold drink even greater. You placed your two ￦1,000 bills on the counter and dumped all your coins out. After counting and calculating, you realized that you were ￦50 short. You were about to sadly collect your coins when suddenly a man behind you spoke up. 

“I can lend you ￦50.” He said, placing the coin on the counter. 

You were about to turn around to thank the man when suddenly realized that the voice sounded familiar to you. It was indeed HIM. You turned slightly and did a quick bow before walking to the far corner of the cafe with your receipt and buzzer in hand.

That was way too close. Why was he here? Where was the manager? As if on cue, you received a text from him: “I lost him.” You were about to text back, notifying him about Jaebum’s whereabouts, when someone tapped you on your shoulder.

“Hey aren’t you the girl that was in front of me in line?”

You dared to face him and looked into his eyes. A pair of soft brown eyes, and a closed smile which you never saw up-close. It indeed was the real Jaebum who was speaking to you. 

“Uhh sorry! I-I can’t speak Korean!” You stuttered in English. 

Jaebum tilted his head. “Didn’t you speak Korean to the cashier just now?” “Ahh. I know only little Korean…” You trailed off, hoping to confuse him with more English.

A playful smile formed on his face. “Oh, but you must know enough Korean to understand what I just said. I didn’t ask you in English.” 

You slumped your shoulders and sighed, reverting back to Korean. “Alright, you got me. I can speak Korean...Sorry, it’s just that I’m...I’m uncomfortable around strangers.”

Jaebum’s smile faltered. “Oh...I didn’t mean to creep you out or anything. I promise. I just found you...intriguing.” 

“Intriguing...?”

Jaebum rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah, that sounded creepy didn’t it?” He chuckled, feeling flustered by his choice of words. “You know what, let’s just start over. Hi, I’m Im Jaebum.” 

You looked at his outstretched hand, which was waiting for a handshake. Should you hide your identity? Or just tell him your real name? Maybe you could use a cool mysterious name like Midnight or something like Demetria. Yeah Demetria sounded nice.

You slipped your hand into his and shook it. “I’m Y/N.” Shoot. There goes your chance of having a mysterious sounding name. 

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. I really want to stay and chat, but I have something to attend to...Do you mind meeting me for a late night snack at midnight?” 

Your eyes widened in surprise of his sudden offer. Why would he want to meet up with you?

“I-um….”

You felt conflicted. You knew that it was against your contract to interact with his main personality, but a part of you wanted to learn more about the real Jaebum. Suddenly you were filled with deep curiosity, wondering what he was like personally compared to his other personalities. Maybe getting to know him firsthand will help you with your research.

“Sure. Why not.” You replied with a friendly smile.

Jaebum grinned. “Great. Meet me at the ice cream shop nearby tonight.” After he left to continue filming, you stood there frozen, wondering if you did the right thing accepting his offer. You snapped out of it when your phone rang. It was GOT7’s manager.

“H..Hello?” 

“Y/N did you find him?”

“Yeah...about that….”

You explained to him about what happened and was pretty sure that you were gonna get fired...but surprisingly the manager thought that it would be a good opportunity to get to know Jaebum more. So that’s how you ended up waiting outside the ice cream shop past midnight while freezing cold. 

You were kicking pebbles with your shoe when you heard someone running towards you. 

“H-Hey….Sorry I’m late!” Jaebum said while breathing heavily. Once he caught his breath, he continued. “It was kinda hard for me to sneak out, but I made it. I didn’t keep you waiting too long did I...?”

“Nope. I just got here haha…” (You totally did not just wait over half an hour…) “But wait...why did you ask to meet at this ice cream shop? It’s closed now…” You said as you pointed at the sign and the dark empty room.

Jaebum gave you a knowingly smile. “That’s what most people think, but actually…”

He then starting walking towards the back of the shop and you followed after him. Jaebum eventually led you to the backdoor of the shop and knocked on the door 7 times. The door then opened slowly and a bright light peeped from inside. Jaebum opened the door wide and gestured for you to go in first. “After you~.” As you walked in, your eyes popped out in amazement. The secret backroom was filled with tables and basically everything that the front part of the shop had. You were also surprised to see so many celebrities, such as actors and idols, with their dates enjoying their ice cream together. (For their privacy, none shall be named in this story).

“Surprised?” Jaebum asked after making sure to close the door shut behind him. Since you were there for work, you shook off the starstruckness and tried to keep your cool. “Just a bit…”

“Yeah, the owner here is cousins with the TV personality/restaurateur Hong Seokcheon. He put in this whole separate back part of the ice cream shop when designing it just for celebrities to have a secret hideout.” 

“Wow that’s pretty cool~. What if the non-celebrity dates don’t end well though?” You asked.

“Well if anyone were to ever try to expose the secret, the password would change or they will just move to another location before Dispatch arrives. That hasn’t happened yet though, thankfully.”

You nodded in understanding. “So~. Have you been here often?” Although you didn’t really care, you were curious to see how he would react.

Jaebum looked taken aback by your sudden question.”What, me? Pfft no...I just heard about it a lot from my friends.” 

Just then, a large man came over and gave Jaebum a big hug. You assumed that he was the owner of the shop. “Ayee JB my man~. Good to see you again!!” 

You raised an eyebrow at Jaebum and gave him a look as a flustered Jaebum gave you a small forced smile. 

“You want the usual JB?” The man asked.   

Jaebum nodded and looked over at you. 

“Ahh..I’ll take a cookies n’ cream thank you.” You said. 

Once you and Jaebum got your orders, you both sat down at a table near the covered windows. You noticed that he got the mint choco ice cream and made a mental note of that for your report later. 

“Sooo you haven’t been here often huh?” You said, trying to poke fun at him. 

Jaebum raised his hands up. “I swear I only come here from the front for their ice cream.” 

You laughed and took a bite out of your ice cream. “Sure you do…” 

Jaebum chuckled. “No, really! I don’t usually ask anyone out.” 

You looked at him questionably. “Then what makes me special? Why did you ask me out? I know for sure that it’s not because I owed you a mere ￦50. You even paid for our ice cream without me knowing!”

Jaebum licked his ice cream. “I told you already. It’s because I found you...intriguing.” 

“There you go again with that creepy-like word.” You joked. 

Jaebum chuckled. “Fine! How about ‘interesting’? Enthralling? Thought-provoking? Fascinating?”

“Oh my goodness. What are you? A walking thesaurus?” You said laughing. “That’s not usually how a guy would describe a girl.”

“It’s just hard to explain...Even though I’m sure we never met before, I feel like you seem very familiar...Like you seemed very approachable..?” 

Your eyes widened. Was it possible that your interactions with his other personalities gave him a sense of familiarity around you? “Ah, I see…”

“Also, you just treated me differently that how other people would.”

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“Well, you treated me like how you would treat any man you didn’t know. Haha. You probably thought that I was a creeper at first didn’t you? I just liked how you didn’t treat me like a celebrity. Even though it might just be because you didn’t know who I was...Do you know who I am?”

Although you knew that Jaebum was just asking you if you knew that he was from GOT7, you received the question differently as if he was asking you if you really knew who Jaebum was on the inside. If you knew about his secret disorder and internal struggles.

When you were about to reply, Jaebum grunted while putting his hands on his forehead. The oh so familiar piercing migraine has returned. No...NOT NOW. Jaebum thought to himself. 

“Are you feeling okay?” You asked.

“Huh? Yeah I’m fine. I think I..I’ll be right back.” He said as he quickly got up and started heading towards the direction of the restrooms. Why must this happen right now? Jaebum had left his pills back at the dorm and his personalities are trying to take over at the worst moments. As he headed towards the hallway that led to the restrooms, he was struck with sudden dizziness. Jaebum held his hand against his head as he stumbled, going back and forth from bumping into nearby chairs and against the wall. He stopped moving for a moment and tried to stabilize himself. However, once he took another step, Jaebum slipped and hit his ended up hitting his back onto a nearby countertop. 

Hearing all the commotion, you quickly ran over to him and found Jaebum slumping over in pain.

Your eyes widened. Did a personality take over already??  “OMG JYP is that you?? Is your back aching again ahjusshi?”

At your comment Jaebum’s pain momentarily went away as he looked at you speechless. “How did you know-”

You looked into Jaebum’s eyes and noticed that his gaze was not the same as JYP’s or any other of his personalities’. WAS HE STILL JAEBUM??

You turned to leave but Jaebum grabbed your wrist and looked at you suspiciously. “Who are you really?”

“Uhh...I...uh…”

“Who are you?! A sasaeng fan trying to blackmail me?! ANSWER ME!” He said in a harsher tone. 

You looked around to make sure that no one else was looking over at you guys. “J-Jaebum...Listen, I-”

Before you could continue, he loosened his grasp on your arm as he felt another sharp pain in his head. “Ugh...not now...” Jaebum murmured under his breath as he pulled away from you and pressed his palm against his forehead. He groaned in agony.

“Hey, stay with me now. Where’s your medication?” You asked as you took a hold of his arm to stabilize him.

“Left....it...at...the...dorm.” With those last words, Jaebum lost consciousness and collapsed. 

You stumbled as you struggled to support Jaebum’s weight, preventing him from falling on the floor. With a loud grunt, you managed to lean him slouched against the wall with his head down. “Wow. Best first date ever.” You said sarcastically. 

When you were about to go call GOT7′s manager, Jaebum lifted his head and stared straight at you. You looked back at him with surprise and looked into his eyes with curiosity. 

“Jaebum...?” 

He scoffed with a smug smile on his face. “Still can’t recognize me yet, Muffin?”

You rolled your eyes and sighed with frustration. “JB.”

JB stood up straight and put his hands into his pants pockets. “Whoa calm down. I know that you’re excited to see me again, but chill~.” 

“Just be quiet and let Jaebum come back out again. I need to talk to him right now.” You firmly said, not in the mood to deal with his bs. 

“Jaebum? That piece of trash? Why would-....Wait. Why are you even here next to me right now? Why were you with him?! Did you get caught? Haha wow, I knew that sooner or later you’d-.” 

“This is serious!!! There is a misunderstanding that I need to clear with him, so go back and let him come back out right now!” 

JB crossed his arms, leaning back against the wall. He smirked when an idea popped into his mind. “How about a kiss then?” 

You stared at him with an ‘are you freakin’ kidding me’ expression.

“I’m serious! I came out because you made him furious right? Maybe if you kissed me, it would shock my body so much to make me go back.”

 You didn’t believe him, but it seemed like you didn’t have a choice at this point. As well, this would probably break a bunch of rules on your contract...Even though you hated the idea of kissing the sleazeball, you knew that you had to do it for Jaebum. 

To JB’s surprise, you stepped closer to him and yanked him down to your height.

“Fxxk it.” You said before leaning in and pressing your lips against his.

~To Be Continued...? Maybe, maybe not.~

[avtrbee]

Late Night Therapy

I had the urge to write something really quick soooo...i mean its not the best but enjoy anyway. also english isnt my second language and its unedited so if you spot any grammar mistakes, feel free to correct me

Imagine: You being training Natasha in the Red Room with Bucky and feeling very guilty about what you turned her into.

This fic includes you being a mother figure to Nat and Bucky x Reader if you really squint.

Natasha shot out of bed drenched in sweat, struggling against the deathly grip of her blankets. She scanned the room around her and found it reliving that she saw the familiar room she owned in the Avengers facility in New York. She closed her eyes and forced herself to realize that she was not in the room where 24 other girls were, cramped in a long room with too many bed in. Unconsciously, Natasha rubbed her wrists to feel if a metal handcuff was cuffed to her arm and to the bed post.

Opening her eyes once more, she made herself do one of those breathing exercises Sam taught the team a while back and forced herself to remember what more things he advised them to do if an episode or a nightmare plagues them.

“Find five things you can see…” she remembered him say.

‘I see an empty blue vase on my dresser,’ Natasha mused, looking around. She probably bought it somewhere in a flea market- Nat doesn’t care. ‘I see my bathroom door, and my closet.’ Natasha’s green eyes darted to her left. ‘I see a beanbag,’ Nat remembered the goofy grin in Wanda’s face when she handed her a large box last Christmas. “Your back complaints were getting annoying.” She said sheepishly after Natasha opened it. ‘…and books.’ It was Wanda’s books, technically, but once she realized that she has a soft spot on romantic novels, the younger girl hasn’t stopped dragging her to bookstores and has taken it upon herself to let Natasha read her favorites.

“Four things you can feel,”

Natasha can feel her bed crease around her (“It’s memory foam,” said Tony with a proud smirk. “It remembers you.”) and her comforter. Nat reached under her pillow to feel the familiar rough edges of her gun to add to her list. She looked down to her wrists and quietly rubbed them, once, twice- just to make the familiar feeling of the handcuffs disappear. ‘Bed. Blanket. Gun. Wrists.’

“Three things you can hear,”

Natasha could feel her heart thrumming through her chest. She took several deep breaths- “Inhale through the nose and exhale through the mouth.”- as an attempt to calm it down. It her heart several minutes for her heart to slow down, and another minute before Natasha decided to continue.   ‘I can hear the quiet hum of air conditioning,’ she mused to herself. It was a barely audible sound but Natasha can hear it if she listened. She remembered Tony telling her he liked it that way so he made it as quiet as he can. He couldn’t sleep with too much noise, she remembered. ‘I hear my heart thumping and…’ On occasions like this, she had Clint to hug her and put sweaty kisses on her forehead and temple to tell her it’s okay. He would pull her to his chest and then Natasha could hear his heartbeat and she’ll add that to her list too. But Clint wasn’t here. He was somewhere in Southeast Asia for a mission. Natasha closed her eyes and listened closely again. She blocked the quiet hum of air conditioning in her mind to find something else. Then she heard quiet thuds- footsteps probably, prodding behind her door. ‘…and footsteps off…?’

Natasha tried to analyze the footsteps to calm herself down. It was too light and quiet to be both Thor and Steve, she thought. It wasn’t Bruce or Tony either, their quarters were below hers and they wouldn’t be up on her floor anyway. They were most likely in their laboratory doing things they do and pulling the fourth all-nighter in a row. The more Nat thought, the more her head ached so she stopped before she could even suffer from a killer headache. ‘…footsteps. I hear footsteps.’ Nat settled on that before she would make herself overthink again.

 “Two things you smell,”

Nat tried to sniff around the room. She smelled nothing. Clint often told Nat that her room smelled like a hospital as a joke but she never did smell that. She sat on her bed, trying hard so sniff something- anything, because she was too lazy to go to the kitchen and smell some honey or something.

With a sigh, Nat got out of her bed anyway and headed to the kitchen. She could hear Sam say ‘And then you go find something you can eat or taste. Like a cookie.’ She needed to eat something for the next step of the exercise anyway.

As soon as Nat stepped out of the door, she was immdietly greeted by the familiar scent of alcohol lingering somewhere in the air. Tony probably went out of his lab to take a swig of whatever he has then retreated back down to his cave. ‘I can smell alcohol and…’

Nat squinted in disbelief. Did…did she just smell bacon?

As she walked closer to the kitchen, she slowly heard the sizzling boiling. From her position, she could see a figure covering the frying pan. Y/N, Natasha thought. мама

She watched as Y/N shaked the pan slightly. The girl turned off the stove and went to the opposite side of the kitchen to get a plate. Y/N then proceeded to put the bacon on the plate then pulled out orange juice from Tony’s fridge and two glasses and put them on the counter.

“I know you’re there, Natalia.” She said in a raspy voice. “Can’t sleep?”

Natasha stepped out of the shadows. “Neither can you, probably.”

Y/N said nothing and poured Natasha a glass of orange juice.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” Natasha stated, ignoring the glass of juice.

Y/N shrugged and took a short sip of her juice. “Good. You still notice things. I have taught you well.”

“Where’s Bucky?”

Y/N looked anywhere but her. “Sleeping. He hasn’t slept in a while. How selfish of me to burden him with my problems.” Natasha noticed Y/N’s sad eyes. It was different from the eyes she grew up with. It always looked sad, so full of sorrow and guilt for things she couldn’t control.. Sometimes, Natasha thinks that she prefers the cold and calculating E/C eyes that trained her back in the Red Room.

Pregnant silence filled the room.

Finally, Natasha watched as Y/N lower her head, her H/C hair covering her face. She was gripping her almost finished glass of orange juice tightly. Natasha thought she saw cracks in the glass. “I’m so sorry, Natalia.”

Natasha found herself squeezing her eyes and taking deep breaths. “No. Don’t start. Please.”

Y/N lifted her head and stared at her. “You couldn’t sleep because you see their faces can’t you? The people you’ve killed,” Y/N’s voice cracked. “Sometimes, in your dreams you still see them don’t you? The other girls; Lyuda, Misha, Tatiana…I’m sorry.”

“No.” Natasha stood up to leave, fully intending to leave the Winter Soldier alone with her thoughts before she plagues hers. She doesn’t want to remember. She will not. She must not. She-

“I made you this way,” she said softly. “I… I remember. I remember you, sweet little Natalia, eager to survive and to please. I taught you well. I brought you to this life…this, everything, everything is my fault.” Natasha stopped her tracks. Y/N saw this as an opportunity to continue. “You were so young, Natalia. You only reached my elbow and you were so confused. I made you who you are, I taught you how to kill-“

“It wasn’t your fault. We were both held against our will, Y/N.”

“I made you kill children,” Y/N whispered softly. “I don’t even understand how you can stand the sight of me.”

Her eyes softened. She found herself going to the infamous assassin and her hands lifting her face up, wiping the hair off her face. Y/N’s face was eyes were red and puffy and they just look so, so tired. Natasha could only imagine what Y/N has gone through.

She, like almost everyone, has heard stories of the Winter Soldiers. How they never failed a mission, how precise they both were, how they almost never missed a shot. Natasha could see the mountains of bodies both Y/N and Bucky has created because of HYDRA.

Natasha wiped a stray tear that has fallen from Y/N’s eye gently. “It wasn’t you. It never was.”

Y.N was notorious, but right now Nat didn’t see a half of the Winter Soldier. Y/N looked like a child, so traumatized with her past, so exhausted and so scared. She paused and looked around the compound before continuing. “I forgive you, anyway. You claim to have brought me my troubles, but along with it came the happy times too. I would have never found the courage to join SHIELD without you, мама.”

“The last time you called me that, I slapped your face.” Y/N sniffed. “Headmistress-“

“I know,” Natasha cut off. “When Headmistress found out, she reported this to your handler. They probably gave you orders to eliminate any attachments you’ve established.”

Y/N smiled. Natasha pulled her up from her chair and put the forgotten food aside. Placing a soft kiss on her cheek she said, “Go get some sleep. You need it.”

The other assassin weakly nodded and walked silently back to her room.

Y/N may have nurtured Natasha when she was little, but maybe it’s Natasha’s turn to take care of her in return.

[shestranged]

Bellatrix Hecate Lestrange // the devil shudders as she rises ( she’s taking aim for his throne )

She grew up wanting to break things —- toys and hearts and bones and people. Her father indulged her, quietly forming her into the woman that she is today, a weapon, a beast. Someone who finds peace in the destruction, in the chaos, in the violence. People say that she came out a little wrong - something unhinged about her persona already as a child. Those jet black eyes, waiting to devour you. Sharp teeth pulling into a Cheshire cat grin before she could even speak. As she grew older, she became more adept at hiding her… faults, slowly learning how to suppress her anger, her hatred. Instead growing colder, burning less hot ( a ticking time bomb in the making ). But then she met him. And at his side, she became so much worse. As his right hand, she tapped into unimaginable powers, but it all came at an equally unimaginable price. With him, she became less human, more vile. At his side, all she wanted to see was the streets run red with blood.

what up i’m liz, i’m twenty one and i’m here to bring u my favorite villain and chaotic badass, bellatrix lestrange !! this will be a bit long probably bc i could talk about her 5ever. most important parts to read probably are #hogwarts years, #after hogwarts and #personality stuff !!

PINTEREST BOARD: (x)

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BIOGRAPHY: (x)

QUICK STATS:

name: bellatrix hecate lestrange occupation: senior obliviator former house: slytherin date of birth: december 23. age: 32

BIRTH AND EARLY YEARS:

Let’s set the scene --- it’s a cold December night, right before Christmas, and the Black mansion is shaken by blood curdling screams. It’s the kind that leaves you breathless, shivers running down your spine, leaving you with the sense that something is very, very wrong. Which, Druella Black fears that it very well might be ---- because her (expected) son is four weeks early. 

The birth process is excruciatingly long and difficult for poor, poor Druella, but when the clock strikes eleven on the night before Christmas, a girl comes crashing into the world. She’s not what they expect, nor what they want, and she never cries --- instead, she just watches them with those big black eyes that always seem to be appraising something.

-

Though Bellatrix’s birth was mostly an unwelcome surprise ( she came too early, and it was no secret that her parents had hoped for a boy ), she was also the first child to carry on the Black legacy, which was an honor. A necessity.

As a baby, she was small and meager. Nurses whispered about the Black baby that could barely muster a scream, that seemed so frail. Like she might break at any second. But that memory would soon fade and be replaced by a much more unpleasant one - because Bellatrix’s bones hardened, her skin thickened, her eyes grew meaner. Within a few years, any trace of that soft baby was gone, and instead, a cruel toddler took her place.

As a child, Bella was vicious. Biting, clawing, screaming and cursing were things she picked up fast, and she’d terrorize the other kids at the playground ( with an almost scary aim for her muggle born / half blood peers ). 

Once she reached the age of seven, she calmed down a bit, and instead started following her father around ( and was lovingly referred to as his ‘little shadow’ ). Eager to prove herself, she learned everything that a son of Cygnus would have learnt. She was determined to show her father that being a girl would not stop her from becoming worthy of the Black throne, to carry his name with pride. Over the years of her childhood and adolescence, Bellatrix forged herself into the golden girl, a respectable heir in the making. Desperate to wear the crown.

Under her father’s influence, uncontrollable rage was switched in for an eerie quietness, anger instead boiling right below the surface, just waiting to be unleashed. She was so eager to please, to sculpt herself into whatever he wanted, so she suppressed her emotions the best she could, even though it never felt natural. And so, the nurses whispered again, but this time, it was about her sweet, sweet smile, matched with those mean, mean eyes. ‘Doesn’t it look distorted? Like that damn Cheshire cat. Something’s not right about that girl, I’m telling you. She came out wrong’.

Behind closed doors, Cygnus also encouraged Bella’s darker side. Introduced her to the dark arts and the chaos that she would later come to love so desperately.

Most of her childhood was characterized by harsh words, strict rules and high expectations. Her family’s reputation weighed heavy on her shoulders, constantly pressuring her to excel. Luckily, she shared her parents’ ambition and values, and had no problems conforming to their rule. Which also meant that she could get away with much else. As long as she remained the golden girl, Bellatrix could run wild and free.

HOGWARTS YEARS:

Bellatrix had been duly prepped before arriving at Hogwarts. She was the first of their children to walk the halls, so it was important to both Druella and Cygnus that Bellatrix knew how to behave. Who to fraternize with. Who to avoid. Who was worthy of her time. Her parents had also made sure that she already had the appropriate friends — and play dates with other pureblood kids were a common occurrence when Bellatrix was younger.

At school, Bellatrix was popular ---- the resident cool girl. The type of girl that hardly ever objects to anything, because she is always down to have a good time. The type of girl that loves Quidditch, dirty jokes and cheap beer. The type of girl that hides her true colors, at least for a while. Until she explodes.

So Bella kept out of trouble, for the most part. There were a couple.... incidents, with muggleborns. One or two may have been turned into rats and toads ( under the guise of it being a joke --- can’t you take a joke, come on now? ). More serious things have been strictly forgotten by everyone involved. Powerful parents will do the trick. Mostly though, Bellatrix kept to her fellow Slytherins... biding her time. Waiting to strike.

She played for the Slytherin Quidditch team, as a beater, and was eventually made captain ( nothing less for a child of Cygnus, she must excel ). During her time on the team, she was notorious for her cruel playing style, her foul tricks, the constant smirk on her lips as other players fell to the ground. 

And during her sixth year, she was eventually recruited into the Death Eaters. And with them, she found a second home, quickly rising through the ranks. 

AFTER HOGWARTS:

After graduating from Hogwarts, Bellatrix took a year off from her studies. The official reason was that she needed to “find herself”. Whatever the fuck that meant. Obviously, it was a lie to hide what she was really up to. In reality, Bellatrix was at Voldemort’s side, learning leglilimency and occlumency, all the while developing her dark magic and her shitty personality.

Quickly became Voldemort’s personal attack dog, always willing to do his bidding, no questions asked.

At the age of nineteen, Bellatrix found work as an obliviator. Though the choice had ultimately been hers to make, the dark lord was always whispering in her ear, encouraging her to infiltrate the ministry. The goal was to have sleeper agents of death eaters in every department once it was time to go to war. It also helped that becoming an oblivator just made sense — fucking with the minds of muggles could already be counted as a hobby (albeit a twisted one), and she had always been good at taking things that didn’t belong to her… Memories would be no different.

Will occasionally throw pureblood galas, but isn’t too invested in them. They’re just for show, and she couldn’t care less.

Among the Death Eaters, Bellatrix is in the inner circle. She considers herself the dark lord’s right hand, and prides herself on being his most loyal servant.

Bellatrix also has a pet snake, lovingly named Medusa. 

Today, Bellatrix works as a senior obliviator at the ministry of magic. She handles a lot of paper work, but is also out in the field a lot.

PERSONALITY:

First of all - Bellatrix is a fucking shit show and we all know this.

She is like night and day ----- and her temper switches incredibly quickly, which makes her unpredictable, a little scary. She can go from the girl her family forced her to be - the Socialite, the Sophisticated Woman, the Cool Girl, to something far more sinister in the matter of minutes.

When she’s at her worst, Bellatrix is cruel, sadistic, self righteous, impulsive, angry as hell, deranged, unstable, manipulative, a little bit unhinged, ruthless, playful, childish and absolutely lethal. It’s always brewing right below, so close to the surface, just waiting to come out.

But she’s also calculating, clever, quick on her feet, intensely passionate, fiercely loyal (until she’s... not), adaptable, intuitive and assertive. 

Bella often contradicts herself — she has grown up believing that it’s best to be cold and devoid of emotions (#thanks dad), but she’s a highly emotional person by nature. She tries to suppress that as best as she can, but she usually boils over pretty fast. Other emotions are usually translated into anger as well, so that’s fun. I think the best way to describe her is that she’s just fire, always burning hot or cold.

Voldemort’s influence on her is also really important!! His influence poisons her mind, her soul, her heart. The darkness that was already there is amplified, becomes a thousand times worse. Though already a skilled witch, he introduced her to magic she could only have dreamed of --- and that power became corruptive, addictive. For power, Bella would gladly pay the steep price of sacrificing her soul, her humanity.

Bellatrix really does think that she is in the right. 

Also probably thinks that she’s better than everyone else at all times. There’s definitively an air of arrogance surrounding her.

Mrs Lestrange thinks that she’s invincible, and likes walking a little too close to the cliff’s edge ( playing with fire ). Will occasionally drop hints that she COULD be a death eater, but never goes too far with it. And if someone suggests that she is one, she acts like that’s absolutely outrageous. How dare you imply that I am affiliated with anything... !

Okay so, I am convinced that Bellatrix doesn’t reach peak evil + instability until after Voldemort’s fall and Azkaban, so I’m really trying to tone her down a bit and give the influence of her upbringing ( + her nature ) a bigger role in the person that she becomes. Hence why she is a little better at hiding her true colors, a little more refined. : ~ ) Though, she’s still the hammer ( doesn’t have the most finesse, mostly just likes getting things done, her technique isn’t exactly intricate, but ALWAYS effective ).

Even if most people probably don’t know that she’s a death eater ( though some probably suspect lbr ), she has a very intimidating presence. That’s her brand. And she still has that Weird Aura about her, like there is something that isn’t quite right, so that could also weird people out.

STYLE / FASHION / APPEARANCE:

Bellatrix has jet black eyes and the hair to match. It falls in soft curls over her shoulders, down her back. 

Usually wears dark red lipstick.

She hides her dark mark with a concealment spell while out in public.

Dresses mostly in black. Has to wear clothes that can fit into the muggle world while at work ( since she is often out in the field, interacting with muggles ). While there, she wears a well worn leather jacket ( with shoulder pads, in true 70s style ), and wide, black pants.

Files her nails into long claws, and paints them black.

Is tall. Likes towering over people.

AESTHETICS / VIBES:

black dresses, whispered hexes, broken champagne glasses, the calm before the storm, bullets caught between teeth, a constant paradox, skin stained black and blue, a devilish grin, ‘is that wine or blood on your carpet?’, snakes wrapped around wrists, mean eyes, always running hot and cold, a cheshire cat’s smile, soft laughter as the light leaves your eyes, divine violence, a taste of the approaching revolution / the new world order, quiet desperation, family heirlooms, unwavering loyalty, sudden fits of rage, emerald lockets, double lives, ‘would you still like me with my hands around your neck?’, no conscience, silent promises, taunting you with her very last breath, the hardest of hearts, dried blood on expensive clothes and a quiet conviction that this will all make sense in the end.

CHARACTER INFLUENCES:

amy dunne ( gone girl )

katherine pierce ( tvd )

jamie moriarty ( elementary )

glory / glorificus ( btvs )

villanelle ( killing eve )

jennifer blake ( teen wolf )

klaus mikaelson ( tvd )

kilgrave ( jessica jones )

lilith ( supernatural )

drusilla ( btvs ) 

cersei lannister ( got )

helena ( orphan black )

faith lehane ( btvs )

mazikeen ( lucifer )

FAVORITE CHARACTER TROPES:

SLASHER SMILE - a smile in anticipation of pain or death // a cheshire cat grin.

THE DRAGON - a monster the hero has to get past to get at the big bad. the top enforcer.

TORTURE TECHNICIAN -  takes the heroes and turn them into screaming, shinned shambles.

LADY MACBETH - frequently more crazy than her husband, quite the sociopath, in the business of turning men towards evil.

EVIL WEARS BLACK - duh.

DISSONANT SERENITY - someone smiling gently in the middle of death and carnage, seeming almost enlightened as they slit throats left and right.

THE BERSERKER - throws herself into battle with such reckless abandon, that it seems like she wants to die. never, ever retreats.

THE BARONESS - a female baddie with a chilly disposition and more than a touch of the dominatrix about her.

WICKED CULTURED - evil is intellectual // basically an evil aristocrat.

THE CHESSMASTER - thinking three moves ahead at all times. manipulating, planning, plotting.

DADDY’S LITTLE VILLAIN - shares dark father’s ambitions and cruelty.

BERSERK BUTTON - always ready to fucking snap.

SOFT SPOKEN SADIST - occasionally. a monster who might describe just how horribly she’s going to mangle you, while speaking in a voice that’s anything but monstrous.

DARK ACTION GIRL - likes beating the hero to a bloody pulp. good at it too.

AMBITION IS EVIL - has grand plans. ends justify the means, always.

[nikanndros]

The Post-Canon Time Travel AU

[Prologue] [Act I: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5] [Act II: Part 1, Part 2]

Act II, Part 3.

It’s an unpleasant surprise to see Adrastus, when the Keeper finds him. Damen wants to put his head through a table, but there was no plot to turn Damen into a slave in this world. Besides, his job will be rendered obsolete soon anyway, when slavery is outlawed. Re-outlawed.

Damen pours himself a glass of wine. “Did you need something, Adrastus?”

“Exalted,” he says, bowing respectfully. “Lykaios tells me you’ve sent her away. I wanted to offer you another slave, if she displeases you now. There’s one in particular that you might like - very sweet - his hair is blonde in the right light.”

Damen pauses, on the cusp of refusing. “What’s his name?”

“Erasmus,” Adrastus sounds pleased at the interest. “He’s only just finished his training, but he is very eager. Should I send him to you?”

“Yes,” Damen says.

-

Damen remembers Erasmus as he was the last time he saw him in Patras. Bright eyed and much bolder than a slave, he had also shown an unknown wit that had been both endearing and amusing. When the Erasmus of this world comes to Damen’s rooms, he presses his forehead to the floor in one of the most graceful movements that Damen has ever seen, and says nothing.

Years ago, Damen would have been proud to see such a perfect display of submission. He would have taken Erasmus to bed, and pulled him apart slowly until they were both satisfied. Now, he looks at Erasmus and just feels a pang of sadness - that this version of the boy hasn’t grown into himself, hasn’t developed a personality beyond the one forced upon him.

“You can rise,” Damen says.

Erasmus lifts his forehead slightly off the ground, but doesn’t make any attempt to get up. Damen holds back a sigh. Commands, he reminds himself. They used to come naturally to him.

“Come sit next to me,” he says this time, and Erasmus gets up and joins him on the couch. He doesn’t even attempt to make eye-contact. His bird-boned wrists are trembling slightly.

“I only wish to speak with you, Erasmus.”

“Yes, Exalted,” Erasmus says softly.

Damen resists frowning. He knows Erasmus will notice any signs of displeasure and blame himself. Instead, Damen focuses on keeping his voice even and gentle. “Do you know what slaves were attending my brother, before he died?”

Erasmus goes pale and actually looks up at Damen, a split second of eye-contact before he remembers himself and looks back down. “...yes, I know him.”

“What is his name?”

“Is...” Erasmus looks almost ready to faint. His chest is moving rapidly, “he...in trouble?”

“What?” Damen says. “No. No. I am sure he has done nothing wrong. I only need some information on my brother’s habits, and whether your friend noticed anything that might bring some light to Nikandros’s trial.”

“His name is Kallias,” Erasmus says, then, “Exalted. May I speak?”

“Yes, say whatever is on your mind.”

“Kallias is good. He did everything his master asked of him. He was honoured to be in Prince Kastor’s household. He isn’t-- he’s good.”

“He won’t be punished for anything,” Damen reassures Erasmus. “All I want is to know the truth. Will you get him for me?”

Erasmus nods.

“Come back with him,” Damen says, “and you can stay while we talk.”

-

When Erasmus returns with his friend, Kallias reveals himself to be a lot bolder than the standard slave. He still moves perfectly, prostrates himself on the ground before Damen, but there’s a calculation about it - a certain confidence that is admittedly unsettling to see on a slave.

“Kallias,” Damen greets. “Come take a seat with me. You too, Erasmus. Did he tell you why I wanted to see you?”

“He did, Exalted,” Kallias says. He’s looks like Erasmus’s opposite - dark hair and straight shoulders. They make a pretty picture of contrasts next to one another.

“Is there anything you can tell me of your last days with Prince Kastor?” Damen asks. He doesn’t expect this to be easy. It’ll probably take a while to convince Kallias to say anything against Kastor - if he can be convinced at all - despite Kastor being dead. Royal slaves are perfectly trained.

“Yes,” Kallias says, boldly. “He was planning a coup against you.”

Oh. “Tell me more.”

-

The door to his chambers are unceremoniously thrown open that evening, and in stalks Jokaste. Damen’s first instinct is to look for his sword. He suppresses it.

“You’re a fool,” she says.

“You got here fast,” Damen replies.

“I was already on my way back, you didn’t need to send for me. After I heard what Nik had done-”

“Yes, I’m sure you were very shocked. How convenient that you were away when it all took place.”

“You sent me away!” Jokaste replies, furious, and Damen suddenly realises that to her this is a lover’s quarrel. “Now I’m back before you make another grievous error and actually let Nikandros go to his death for protecting you.”

The fact that Jokaste seems to genuinely care about this feels very wrong. Damen has never entertained the idea that she has ever cared for much more than herself. “We’re on the same page then,” Damen says. “I need whatever evidence you have against my brother. I may need you to speak at the trial.”

That surprises her. Her whole body seems to stop. Then, “You believe us now? That Kastor was plotting against you?”

“Yes,” Damen says. He doesn’t trust Jokaste. He doesn’t want to tell her about the cave or his past.

“Oh,” she says, and then the fire leaves her and she allows herself to gracefully fall to the chaise at the end of his bed. “Damen. I didn’t realise what Nik was going to do. I knew he was going to do something, he’s the one who made me agree to go the the Summer Palace after that fight we had, but…”

Damen sighs. He wonders if the version of him from this world would have actually cared to hear any of that. He mostly just wants her to testify and then disappear again. “Okay,” he settles for saying. “That doesn’t matter. We need to focus on getting Nikandros free for now.”

“Yes,” she agrees. “I have those letters I tried to show you, still. I might be able to find a Kyros or guard or someone willing to testify, as well.”

“I have Kastor’s slave, Kallias. He’s willing to speak up.”

“Good. That’s good.” She stands up. “I’m going to check on the children, and then I’ll get those documents and we can discuss our next move.”

“Okay,” Damen says, and then tries to immediately forget her mentioning the children. His children. That he had, with her. It doesn’t bear thinking about.

-

The worst (or best) thing is: the children are actually quite wonderful. Ione is an energetic and joyous child, forever laughing, and she even manages to coax a smile out of Damen more often than not. Cassi is a lot quieter than her sister, but that might just be because Ione has such a large personality. Cassi, Damen thinks, will get on well with Laurent, when she’s older. The thought pleases him. As for Leo - he’s much too young to do anything other than eat, cry, and then try to eat things that cannot be eaten and cry about that. He has a strong grip, though, and likes to cling onto Damen’s thumb with a shocking amount of might. Damen’s never thought too much on children, but it is impossible not to be fond of these ones.

Damen has taken to seeing them in the nursery every night before dinner - when they are all awake and making noise. Cassi and Ione like to climb all over him whenever he sits down with them.

One morning, Kyrina brings them all over to his rooms before Damen’s even out of bed. Apparently, once a week they have a family breakfast in his own quarters. The idea is oddly charming.

Cassi and Ione climb on top on his bed, screeching happily. “Can we stay here and eat?” Ione asks.

“Sure,” Damen says, already knowing the sheets are going to get ruined with food.

Kyrina stays and holds Leo, until Jokaste strolls in, takes the boy and dismisses her. She takes a look at Damen, and the girls who are currently rubbing grapes into his sheets and sighs. Then she climbs onto the bed with them.

“You’re spoiling them, lately,” she says, but she sounds pleased.

“I like spending time with them,” Damen tells her.

“Where’s Nik?” Cassi says, suddenly.

Damen frowns.

“You can see him in a couple of days, darling,” Jokaste replies, wiping the girl’s face.

-

“There is an issue with the trial,” Jokaste says, after breakfast has ended and the children are gone again.

“What is it?”

“We have letters and a slave to prove Kastor’s treachery,” she says, “but this is not a trial to prove that. It is a matter of proving Nikandros didn’t just murder a Prince in cold blood.”

“But Kastor was a traitor. Nik did the right thing.”

“Yes,” she agrees. “But it will look bad if you let him get away with it. We can’t just openly murder everyone we suspect of treason. People will think of Nikandros as your feral dog and they won’t be happy that you’re letting him loose.”

“Okay,” Damen says. “So what do you suggest?”

“You won’t like it.”

“I don’t like a lot of things that you say. I still have to hear them.”

“Cheeky,” she says, dryly. “We need to convince Nikandros to lie when he is on trial. He needs to say that he found out Kastor��s plans and Kastor attacked him. Nikandros acted in self defence.”

“But he didn’t,” Damen says. Nikandros had simply gone to Kastor’s rooms and stabbed him.

“I know,” Jokaste replies. “But we need him to say he did.”  

“You want him to lie? On trial?”

“Yes.”

“He’ll never do that.”

“That’s why you need to ask him to. Damen, he’ll do anything for you. He already has. Tell him that you need him, and the children miss him. Convince him. He’ll say yes.”

-

“No,” Nikandros says. “That is dishonourable.”

Damen sighs. “It is. I still want you to do it.”

“I will not lie. I killed him, let them punish me. The only person in the kingdom who doesn’t want to see me dead is you.”

“Well, I am King, so my opinion matters more than theirs.”

Nikandros is clearly torn. Damen needs to convince him. What would Laurent do?

“Nikandros,” Damen says. “You are my closest friend and most trusted advisor. You are the only man in this capital that I know is committed to this Kingdom. I need you. I know it is wrong to ask this of you, but I’m asking you anyway.”

“Damianos,” Nik pleads. “Don’t.”

He knows this is something he should never ask of Nik, and years ago perhaps he would have been proud of his friend’s honour. But then Damen thinks of taking a fort in costume, and playacting a cloth merchant, and all other sorts of trickery that he wouldn’t have considered years ago. And then he thinks of the slaves, and their suffering. Damen believes in honour, yes, but he does not believe in it when it is used as an excuse to do the wrong thing. Nikandros will be executed for being loyal if he does not lie. There is no honour in that. Damen can accept it.

“Please,” Damen says, because a King should never have to say please.

-

The trial, in the end, is more of a show than anything. Damen is King and so it is only his ruling that actually matters. But the people have stakes in things like this, especially when it comes to something as high profile as a Prince being murdered, and so the performance must play out. Laurent would be better at this than Damen is. But this is Akielos, he reminds himself, not New Artes, and all they have to do is present their arguments and the people will accept it.

Kallias very bravely allows himself to be questioned, and admits that he had feared for his own - and his fellow slaves’ - life if he did anything. Damen makes a note to bring this up when he’s outlawing slavery again.

Jokaste presents her letters - all vague correspondence from Kastor to other Kyros and people of high birth that implicates a lot of them. Damen doubts any of them will be brave enough to argue against Nikandros going free after that. More likely, they’ll return to their provinces and lick their wounds.

Then comes Nikandros, to make his case.

He looks only at Damen when he speaks. Damen cannot look away. He doesn’t know what Nik will choose to do in the end - and he has to push down the fear that his friend will throw his life away for some silly notion.

Then Nikandros takes a deep breath and, with a shocking lack of emotion says, “Yes, he attacked me,” and Damen’s heart can slow down again.

[fiercyy]

Till Death Chapter 2/?

Co-Authored by @holyfuckabear

Summary: Seventeen-year-old Ichigo Kurosaki has become a superhero overnight. This entails a lot more oversight than he was lead to believe there would be. Is this his life now? Being stalked by some tiny woman, hell-bent on bossing him around?

(For the record: yes.)

A canon rewrite fic.

Chapter 1

AO3

Chapter 2 is an entry under ‘Scene Rewrite’ for @ichirukimonth but realistically, this whole fic kind of falls under that umbrella.

Heads up, a huge shift in the group dynamic starts in this chapter, something sorely lacking in Bleach: female friendship.

Here’s a thing that Ichigo does not yet know: This will become a trend in their relationship. Maybe if he had known that, he wouldn’t have set the precedent but oh well, here we are.

Ichigo follows Rukia into the courtyard and tries not to break a tooth when she frustrates him to the point of grinding his teeth.

“So you want to tell me what the fuck is going on?”

And as the strange girl explains what the fuck is going on, Ichigo can’t help but feel an odd sense of deja vu, like he’s heard this all before.

God she’s bossy.

He closes his eyes and breathes.

“So, since you were so eager to take my powers, I need you to do my job while they return over time.”

“I’m a highschool student, this isn’t some kind of work-study thing where I can just be a grim reaper. I’m busy!”

“Well, that’s too fucking bad, Ichigo.”

Their voices are raising and colour rises up his neck as he feels eyes on them. He knows how this is gonna look. Him, the big mixed thug with the angry eyes cornering the sweet, baby-faced new girl. Rukia’s got him in a social trap with no way out.

“I’m not doing this.” He says with finality, shoving his hands into his pockets and turning his back to her.

“Oh yes you are.” She follows, arms like knives.

“You can’t make me.”

“Watch me.”

Years of karate practice with Tatsuki have not prepared him for the speed that she uses to grab his wrist and pin his arm behind his back. He yelps, tears beading at the corners of his eyes.

“Wow, this must be really embarrassing for you.”

The bell rings and students come flooding out into the courtyard. With them comes relief from Rukia’s twist hold, she keeps her hand wrapped around his wrist.

“Ichigo, where did you go?” Tatsuki is first to spot them.

Her eyes narrow and dart to their joined hands. Rukia titters.

“Oh, Ichigo was just showing me where everything is.”

He rolls his eyes. She’s laying it on thick.

Tatsuki’s suspicion doesn’t let up. He isn’t surprised. Out of everyone in Karakura, he’s known her the longest. He’d be more alarmed if he were privy to the thoughts currently running through her head.

He’s seventeen, he had to start noticing girls sometime, she shouldn’t be shocked.

Tatsuki is nothing if not a good friend so she waves them off and turns away before either can see her smirk.

As soon as she’s out of earshot Rukia yanks on his arm so hard that he swears it dislocates. She pulls him out of sight of the student exodus.

“You listen to me and you listen good. You and this town are my responsibility. I never shirk my responsibilities. Ergo, you will do as I say or I will make your life a living hell. And I’m not so sure about the living part.”

“What, you’d kill me?”

“I would if it weren’t against my orders.”

Bullshit.

But the look in her eyes makes him unsure.

Rukia withdraws something from her pocket. It’s a red fingerless glove with a flaming skull emblazoned on the back. She pulls it on and the red leather creaks as her hand flexes. There is something ominous in her face. Like a viper, she strikes. She slaps him in the face so hard that he has an out of body experience.

Literally.

He suddenly discovers that his body is on the ground, three feet to his left.

Rukia seems pleased with herself. Ichigo is less than.

He screams.

There are many lessons that Rukia will impart to him over the course of their acquaintance, but this one is the most important.

The skittering noise of six sharp legs, the screams and cries of a little spirit boy, the cool calculating gaze of an impartial observer.

Ichigo hates her in this moment. He hates her like he’s hated no one else. Like he’s hated nothing but the cruelty that took his mother from him. She stares at him impassively, waiting, while a soul screams for help. She checks him. She stops him. She will not let him save him.

This is extortion of the highest order. This is blackmail and bribery and horrendous in its impartiality.

She taunts him with his own words. “That boy is a complete stranger, isn’t he?” And you don’t want to be responsible for the souls and lives of strangers.

But he’s right there.

“Leave him be,” she commands and he grows roots. “For a shinigami, all spirits in this world are equal. You can’t get involved just because they’re nearby and need help. Who are you to decide who is and is not worth saving? You save them all, or you save none of them. You have to be willing to do whatever it takes, even sacrifice your own life. That is the duty of a shinigami. What’s it going to be?”

He hates her. He hates her so much.

He saves the boy.

He did it because he wanted to. He did.

Later, Ichigo sits on his bed, trying to read. It’s a hot september night. The festering fury in his gut has turned to stone and weighs him down. He feels as if he’ll sink through his bed, straight to hell.

Is this his life now? Being stalked by some tiny woman, hellbent on bossing him around?

(For the record: yes.)

The worst part is, on some level he knows she’s right.

Ichigo Kurosaki does not understand Rukia Kuchiki yet. He does not know how much it all matters, can have no concept of protection, starvation, life and death. Not the way she does.

This one day will shape his entire worldview. Ichigo is a protector at heart. He has done everything in his power to shield his sisters, especially Karin-

But suddenly the world is bigger. And he is responsible for the souls that inhabit it. “‘You save all of them or none of them’ huh?” He sighs and a slow smile blooms. “Guess it’s gonna be a busy year.”

Ring ring ring.

“What the-”

“Ichigo!” His closet door slides open and Rukia bursts from its depths.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

“No time, we’ve got orders.”

“Orders?!”

“Get down!”

A cold hand on his chin and a shove. A giant, scaly arm misses him by inches. There she goes, saving his life again.

Rukia was not expecting this. The anger she feels at herself is dwarfed for a few hours by her own practicality, but in the dark isolation of a stranger’s closet, she has the time to think.

She always does this. She never looks before she leaps. She’s always getting ahead of herself, doing whatever fool thing comes to mind. ‘Why are you like this?’ She grumbles to herself. She never learns. Her duty as a shinigami is to defend the living, place them above her own life… but the human boy was right, that’s not what she was thinking when she placed herself between him and the jaws of death. It was instinct.

Stabbing him was calculated though.

She’d decided to give him half her powers, temporarily. Instead, an approximate most-of-them had been sucked right into him.

Rukia flexes her fingers and feels the reiatsu coursing through them. She’s weak. She probably shouldn’t leave the gigai. She wonders if she can still do kido? Maybe she should find herself a weapon, if today is any indication.

Ring ring ring

Well, no time like the present for a test drive.

“Ichigo!”

She finds that she can’t fly. Not surprising, but still very frustrating. This probably has a lot to do with the gigai. Its lung capacity is truly horrendous and where have all her muscles gone? Pathetic.

Ichigo carries her the rest of the way to Inoue’s.

Rukia’s gratified to know that she hasn’t lost her wits and instincts at least.

They fight for and against Inoue’s brother. Poor Orihime takes it all in better stride than expected, but then again, she’s a unique young woman.

As Sora vacillates between feral and sane, Rukia holds and defends her in turn. She discovers that she can do very basic kido when she pins the hollow’s arms behind his back, long enough for him to confess to a higher power controlling him.

That night Rukia sees a different side of Ichigo, the side she’d glimpsed on the night they met: the older brother, the protector. She knew it. Now if she could just teach him to expand that sphere, she’d make a shinigami of him yet.

She needs to prepare him, if she’s right about what’s coming. Inoue’s brother was being controlled by a powerful hollow. This does not bode well for Karakura town, not with her sidelined and an inexperienced teenaged boy left as its protector.

“Kuchiki-san?” Orihime’s voice wobbles as she addresses her. Rukia snaps out of her revery. She should put the mask back on. She should smile and gleam with innocence. But she doesn’t have the energy.

“Yes Inoue? What is it?” She tries to make her voice kind, but from the look on Ichigo’s face she must miss the mark. He lays Tatsuki’s prone form on a bed of pillows and returns to their circle.

Tears brim and eyes turn downcast. She feels bad, but doesn’t know how to fix it. “Could you… um…”

Ichigo lays a hand on the girl’s trembling shoulder and tries to soothe her.

“Will you stay with us tonight?” Rukia doesn’t know who looks more surprised, her or Ichigo. “I would feel a lot safer if you stayed. Please?”

How could she say no to that face?

Rukia steps over Tatsuki’s sleeping form. Orihime’s been kind enough to loan her a T-shirt that dwarfs Rukia like a dress. Were Tatsuki awake, she’d be getting an eye-full, but the girl sleeps like a rock.

“We should move to the kitchen if we want to talk.” Orihime says quietly.

Rukia looks at the glass of water that she just brought from the kitchen and closes her eyes in defeat.

“Okay.” She shrugs.

Once they’re settled, she decides to be direct. “I’m Rukia Kuchiki, a Soul Reaper in charge of protecting Karakura.”

“I figured you weren’t really a new student. I’ve seen enough anime to know that the mysterious new student who shows up in the middle of the year is almost always a demon or something.” Orihime says matter-of-factly.

“What’s anime?” Rukia says.

“You know, cartoons?” Orihime says.

Rukia nods, still mystified.

“You know, like Chappy the Rabbit?” Orihime says.

Rukia tilts her head. Orihime pads off to another room and returns with a lunch box. On it is a set of colourfully drawn characters, particularly a rabbit giving a thumbs up. Rukia gently takes it from Orihime and presses her face against the bunny.

“Amazing.” Rukia nods with actual understanding this time.

“There’s a television show too if you’d like to watch.”

Orihime leads her to the couch and searches through her old VHS tapes. When she finds the correct one she holds it over her head in triumph. “This was my favourite show!”

After a few episodes and mutual squeals of excitement at the cuteness, Rukia comes away with a new love and they settle into a companionable silence.

“So, you’re from somewhere really different than here?” Orihime says.

“It’s different enough for a culture shock, I guess.” Rukia says.

Orihime’s digging through the cupboards with purpose. She pulls out a box of brown crackers, a bag of white cylinders, and a bar of chocolate.

“Do they have s’mores where you come from?” Orihime says.

“I beg your pardon?” Rukia says, eyes glued to the TV.

“You are gonna love these. I usually love making them with red bean paste and pocky, but I don’t have those ingredients.” She says.

“Okay.” Rukia says, because she doesn’t really know how to respond to that.

She hears the tic-tic-tic of Orihime turning the stove on and turns her head in the direction of the flame. Orihime pushes one of the white cylinders onto a chopstick and holds it over the flame. It must be some kind of sausage.

“Oh no!” Orihime says as the white thing catches fire.

Rukia jumps up from where she’s sitting to help. Orihime just blows it out with a quick breath. She shoots Rukia a reassuring smile. Rukia makes the decision to stay with Orihime so long as the girl is dealing with something dangerous like fire.

She cooks it a little longer then pokes it. It bounces to her satisfaction.

Rukia leans against the counter and watches as Orihime arranges the crackers and a piece of chocolate. She then presses the white thing between the arrangement she’s made and pulls it off the stick with the aid of the crackers.

It looks sticky and smells sweet.

Orihime offers it to Rukia, “Here. Try.”

Rukia doesn’t really trust Orihime’s cooking, but she doesn’t want to be rude to her host. With a barely concealed wince, she takes a bite.

It’s crumbly and sticky and sweet. Rukia struggles to maintain its structural integrity long enough to eat it. Instead, she gets crumbs on her shirt and white goo stuck to her fingers. She sucks them when she’s done.

Orihime is back at the stove, roasting another white thing.

“Good?” She says with a smile.

“What are these white things?” Rukia says, checking the bag.

“Marshmallows. They’re really good with curry.” Orihime says.

Rukia texts Ichigo, We need marshmallows.

He replies with, ???? okay???

Orihime makes two more each and then sits on the floor in front of the TV. Rukia lies on her belly with a pillow under her chest and the bag of marshmallows in one hand.

It’s the time of night when it doesn’t matter how interesting the thing you’re watching is, you can’t bring yourself to fully pay attention. So, this is what true exhaustion feels like. Rukia stretches her toes. Were she human, her body would be covered in bruises. Like Orihime’s. Rukia eyes the bloom of purple and green on the other girl’s calf and eats a solemn marshmallow.

“Do you have a family, Rukia-chan?” Orihime says.

“I lost my sister Hisana when I was a baby, I don’t even remember her.” Rukia says. This is uncharacteristic of her, to speak without thinking. She hasn’t been so rash in years.

She’s making eye contact with the rug that she’s picking lint from. Orihime covers Rukia’s hand with her own.

“That must have been awful,” Orihime says.

Rukia shrugs in forced nonchalance.

“She married my older brother and they adopted me,” Rukia tells her.

“So, it all turned out well then?”

“I guess you could say that.” Rukia concedes, rolling onto her side to stare at the wall.

Orihime doesn’t question further. Rukia can hear her bite into a s’more.

“It really isn’t the same without the coating of bean paste.” Orihime sighs.

Rukia can’t help but feel like that isn’t the real reason for her melancholy.

Later, they’ve returned to Orihime’s bedroom. Rukia lifts Tatsuki up and onto the bed. She’s glad to have enough strength for that at least. She takes her place on the pile of extra pillows.

“Tatsuki’s so good, always watching out for me.” Orihime says, looking over at the dozing girl, “Do you have anyone in your life who watches out for you like that?” Orihime immediately begins to chastise herself for the implication. “Not that you need someone to watch out for you Kuchiki-san! I mean, you’re so strong and everything. And I suppose for now you have Kurosaki-kun, until your powers return, that is, I-”

“I had someone like that once.” Rukia sighs. It’s been a long time since anyone asked her how she felt about anything. It’s been so long since she had a confidante. But why this silly human girl? Perhaps because she’s so strong. Who, after what she’d just been through, could stay up talking and making a stranger laugh? “I miss him sometimes, but we went our separate ways.”

Orihime looks so sad as she says this.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m alright. I’m always alright.”

It’s almost dawn when Orihime finally cries. “He was a good older brother.”

And Rukia, who knows nothing of good older brothers, hugs her and pats her head as if she understands.

That night, Ichigo dreams. Buildings tower sideways, the sky is clear and blue. A woman in white stands five blocks above him. She regards him with a cold stare but remains silent. He does not know her name but with every fiber of his being, he knows that he should.

It starts to snow.

[whatdoyouthinkmyjobis]

Hunters on the Hellmouth

masterlist

first chapter

previous chapter

AN: I’d originally planned to post GND 11 and HotH 30 at the same time since their time frames overlap, but time got away from me. Links to character sheets at the bottom of the story.

Chapter 30: Mending

By the next day, the doctors were looking at Buffy, who seemed unreasonably spry for someone who should have been scheduling spinal surgery, with great suspicion. Fortunately, Giles managed to convince them to discharge rather than study her. Despite her fear of hospitals, it was more difficult task for him to negotiate Buffy away from her boyfriend's bedside. She was quiet in the car, her mind back in intensive care with the Winchesters.

“The girls will be happy to see you,” Giles said, hoping to distract her.

“I bet,” she said with the same level of excitement most people reserve for describing mailboxes.

“It’s not as bad as that. They look up to you.”

“They’re waiting for me to die, Giles. They’re probably telling each other stories about how each one of them knew I’d been hurt because they just felt a light calling to them.”

“You know as well as anyone that’s not how--” He paused, chagrined. “You were joking.”

“It’s a thing not-dead people do.”

“Speaking of not-dead, I wish you had told me the Winchesters had died before.”

“Like I said, it’s personal.”

“Buffy, I respect your privacy and theirs; but if one of those personal matters effects our current situation, it needs to become a public matter. For instance, I am concerned about this business of angels.”

“Why? For once, something went our way! If it hadn’t been for Castiel…” She pulled her coat tighter, as if it could shield her from the idea of losing the man she loved.

“I am pleased that Dean will live, but we cannot act as if these so-called ‘angels’ are, in fact, our guardians. We know nothing about them, their motives.”

“Dean’s always told me they’re terrible. Like, they just don’t get humans and our little ant problems, so they can be cruel. Except for Cas. Dean said he’s odd, but helpful.”

“That brings us to my second concern: why are angels interested in Dean Winchester? He and Sam presented themselves as foot soldiers in the war against evil. I doubt angels concern themselves with foot soldiers.”

“They were being modest.”

“How so?”

“They’re the best hunters in their world. Maybe it’s like a video game? You level up, get an angel.”

“Perhaps,” he sounded doubtful. “Whatever their origins, something carved unknown symbols into Dean’s ribs. That tells me he is marked for some purpose beyond hunter and handyman. “At this point, all we know for certain is that angels have now made their presence known on the Hellmouth because the survival of Dean Winchester is important to Heaven. And that worries me.”

As soon as Buffy opened her front door, Molly ambushed her with a hug. “I’m so ‘appy you’re back!”

“Thanks,” Buffy winced. “But still super broken!”

“God, so sorry!” The girl’s hands fluttered around her face as she bounced on the balls of her feet.

“You should have taken some of us with you,” said Dani as she took the bag of medications from Giles.

“So more people could be in the hospital? Or morgue? I think I’m already at my guilt limit for the week.” Buffy eased herself onto the couch with Cloé and her omnipresent Winnie-the-Pooh. The other girls gathered around, peppering her with questions.

“What did you find?”

“Are Dean and Sam okay?”

“How many of them were there?”

“Is it coming for us?”

“Did Dean get knocked out saving you?”

“Girls, please!” shouted Giles above the din. “Give her some space. Now, as for what attacked Buffy and the Winchesters, going off of her description, it sounds like a Turok-Han, a powerful monster that until yesterday I was convinced was just a story vampires shared to scare each other. I am leaving this evening to pick up more Potentials, and hopefully I can scrounge up some information on these creatures in the meantime.”

“British to American translation: No one is leaving the house after dark,” Buffy added.

“But you know how to kill them, right?” Naomi asked.

“I’m not killing anything until I’ve healed. The doctor said it will take about six weeks, which means I should be fine in a week. I’m a Christmas miracle.”

“What about Sam and Dean? When will they be better?”

Buffy tried to keep her eye roll inside. “Well, since they aren’t Slayers, it’s going to take them a little longer. Sam’s girlfriend is going to take them home tomorrow. “

“Girlfriend?” A couple groans rose from the group.

“Dear God! Take a cold shower, or get a Tiger Beat!” Tired of the conversation, Buffy slowly rose and headed for the stairs. “Keep the fan club squealing on low, okay? I need to rest. Grace, Dani, follow me.”

Both in their twenties, Grace and Dani were the oldest Potentials. Naturally, the younger girls looked up to them in a way they did not look up to her. They were wizened peers; she was the dark future they may become. Buffy preferred Grace, who seemed unphased by either bloodshed or cramped quarters, but the group seemed to have elected Dani, eager and bratty, to be their voice. At least she never had to listen to either of them drooling over the Winchesters.

Buffy led them to her bedroom, where she hoped she’d be able to stay awake for the few minutes needed to get a feel for the mood of the group.

Dani stood with arms crossed in the middle of the room while Buffy searched her closet for her heatpad. Grace moved around the room with her hands tucked under her elbows examining things the way one does in a museum. “You have a lovely home, Buffy.”

“Thank you.” She hadn’t settled on the idea of it being her home and not her mother’s. If Tara hadn’t died in the spot Dani was slouching in, Buffy never would have left her teenage bedroom. The brown floral wallpaper, the wicker furniture -- it all belonged to someone else from the past.

“Do you live in a house where you’re from?” Buffy wanted to kick herself as soon as the words were out.

Grace raised her eyebrows. “You know, Cloé asked me if I had ever seen a car before coming to America.”

“I didn't mean--”

“Dormitory. Very exotic. Before that, an apartment in Nairobi, a city with many cars, with my parents and sisters.” No wonder she wasn’t bothered by the close quarters.

“Can we move on from Better Homes & Gardens to figuring out what the hell we’re going to do about these übervamps?” asked Dani.

“We are not doing anything at the moment. All of our fighters are on painkillers and bed rest,” Buffy said, shaking her bottle of pills.

“But I’ve been training since I was a teenager! Give me a crossbow and I could--”

“No, dammit! You wouldn’t last five seconds!”

Dani clenched her jaw. “You have no idea what I can do.”

“No, but I know what I can do. I know what Sam and Dean can do. I know we’re all more powerful and better trained than you.” Buffy softened her tone, hoping to diminish the uneven competition Dani was itching for. “Look, it’s not that I don’t think you have skills or can’t help, but this… I’m not insulting you by saying the Turok-Han would kill you; it’s just fact. We’ll wait, heal, and rethink the problem.”

Buffy sighed. “Now, the girls elected you class president. What do they want to do?”

“Go home,” said Dani bitterly.

Grace stepped between them. “The girls are all very frightened and homesick.”

“Look, I’d love to send everyone home, really I would, but you both know what will happen.”

They fell silent for a moment, remembering the chaos, the screaming, the blood.

“It is hardest, I think, for the uninitiated,” said Grace. “Those that came willingly are no longer feeling adventurous, and those that came against their will--”

“What do you mean ‘against their will?’”

Grace paused and scrunched her face. “How did you respond when someone told you about vampires? I laughed in my Watcher’s face and avoided him for months. A few of the girls did not want to come with Giles, so he apparently cast a spell on their families. They cannot even call home because no one there knows who they are.”

Buffy’s stomach flipped. She shouldn’t have been surprised Giles had to use less than savory means to keep the girls safe, but the reality of knowing was wartier than the distant theory. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

“Now you do. They’re scared and miserable, which makes them useless in this fight,” Dani complained.

This time, Grace nodded. “Most of them have never traveled this far from home.”

“So they’re homesick. I get that.” And she did. Buffy was not much of a traveler. Disneyland when she was a kid, and her move from LA to Sunnydale, was the extent of it.. That and her trip to San Francisco with Dean. Dean, who had spent his entire life wandering from temporary home to temporary home. What made him feel at home when he was homeless? “I have an idea.”

“And plenty left for me!” said Xander, quickly unwrapping two mini Snickers and shoving them in his mouth.

Willow examined the dozen treat-filled gift bags. “We have more stuff. I think we should keep making bags. Who knows how many girls will be here by Christmas.”

“My calculations say too many,” Xander said around his mouthful.

Buffy, laying on a heat pad on her bed, held out a hand. “Lemme help with the chocolate overstock, Xander.” He gave her a Twix. “Thanks for doing this, guys.”

She’d called them both and asked in a half-drugged voice if they could pick up movies and treats for a proper slumber party. Buffy had expected them to arrive with a couple romantic comedies and pizza, but they went above and beyond with putting together goodie bags for the girls to open on Christmas.

“By the way, I talked to Professor Yardy today--”

“Oh no!” Buffy covered her face. The final for the one class she’d managed to retain had been the day she was in the hospital.

“It’s okay!” Willow said. “She was sorry to hear about your accident and said you can take the final after break.”

“Insert a dramatic sigh here, because breathing hurts.” Buffy mentally added study for final to her list of things to do after killing the Turok-Han, rescuing Spike, and keeping the Potentials alive.

At least the weekend was planned. She’d only left the hospital under the agreement she could take care of Dean after his discharge, which left a gaping hole of what to do with the Potentials. Dani had eagerly offered to give them all a primer on weapons basics. Willow was going to teach them a brief history of Slayers. Anya and Andrew (and the comparatively calm presence of Xander) volunteered to introduce them to the world of demons; or as Anya called it, “Why vampires are disgusting, and demons can be pretty great.”

The Summers’ house was Hogwarts.

Dawn came in with a plate full of pizza, which Xander quickly relieved her of. Her hair had been dyed cotton-candy pink. “Buffy! You should come down. We’re having the best time!”

“Anya can change that back, right? You can’t go to school with pink hair.” In an effort to both cheer the girls up and show the newbies that magic wasn’t only for parental brain-wipes, newly blonde Anya was using her new favorite spell to color the Potentials’ hair.    

“Sure I can. There’s nothing in the rules about hair color.”

Buffy started to sit up, her angry-mom face in place.

“Compromise!” Willow piped in. “Dawn keeps the hair for the weekend, and I change it back Sunday night. Okay?”   

“Fine,” said Buffy, lying back down as the room started to spin. “I’m glad everyone is enjoying themselves.”

“Why don’t you come down?” Dawn lightly pleaded. “I’m sure they’d like you more if they saw you have fun.”

“Because moving hurts. Laughing super hurts, and it’s impossible to watch Clueless without laughing,” Buffy groaned.

“True. We’re all trying to convince Wook it’s a one hundred percent accurate picture of American high school, but I don’t think she’s falling for it.”

Everything had gone pear-shaped this week, but the biggest surprise had been Dawn rising above it. She had kept her head above the water, and guided the new girls to safety -- or at least, to the house tour.

Buffy may have been their distant mentor, but she realized that her little sister had become their friend. She smiled proudly at Dawn, despite the pink hair.

“Keep it up, Dawnie, and you’ll be an ambassador one day,” said Xander.

“Thanks!” she said brightly before returning to the party.

“Are you planning to share that pizza?” Willow asked as Xander took a bite of the last piece on the plate.

“Mmm? ‘Orry.”

Buffy’s growling stomach told her she would have to make an appearance downstairs after all.

The chatter in the living room-turned-trainee-bunk had long since subsided. Buffy shivered in her blankets, the gaping absence beside her keeping her awake.

Finally, she slipped out of bed. Dean’s drawer in her dresser was mostly full, she noticed with satisfaction. She rummaged around until she found a pair of his plaid pajama pants and his army green button-down -- a favorite since it matched his eyes perfectly -- which still smelled faintly of engine grease and leather.

Wrapping herself in cool cotton and the scent of Dean, she pulled her blankets to the bench by the window. The stars of Orion the Hunter shone like beacons in the winter sky. Buffy hoped Dean was able to sleep. The painkillers would help. She groaned then, realizing she was going to have to hide all the alcohol in their apartment lest they mix the two. Boys.

But he was alive and well. That was the important thing. The angels wanted him that way.

She didn’t find the idea of angels as upsetting as Giles did, but she was curious as to what they wanted with Dean. While she thought he was a hero and all-around wonderful, Dean wasn’t religious, pure, or any other thing she’d ever associated with saintly people. She smiled, imagining devout children being taught about Saint Dean, whose miracles included being amazing in bed and remaining on his feet after drinking a an obscene amount of whiskey.

Maybe Dean was chosen for something, but so was she. According to lore, the first Slayer was made by combining the essence of a demon with the soul of a girl. Being chosen by angels sounded cuddly by comparison.

But why wonder when she could ask?

Her voice barely above a whisper, she prayed, “Castiel, this is Buffy Summers again. Thanks for saving Dean. The doctors said he can go home tomorrow. I’m planning on taking care of him all weekend.”

It suddenly occurred to her that maybe she shouldn't tell an angel she was sleeping with her boyfriend. Didn’t they frown on that? Or was Castiel all-seeing? Oh God, does he watch us have sex?!

“Uh, yeah, so I was wondering why you saved Dean. I mean, he’s amazing, so I’m definitely not complaining, but you’re an angel. Aren’t there, like, floods and famines for you to stop? Why are you interested in him?”

Buffy held her breath and listened. She heard nothing in the still night, not a squirrel racing down a branch, not anyone’s soft snoring, and certainly not the booming voice of an angel. Could he even hear her if she wasn’t in crisis? Was there some sort of priority line, like a soul emergency room? She imagined Castiel in a white robe with long flowing hair seeing broken person after broken person, and she had no idea what her number was.

“I wish you looked out for me the way you look out for Dean. Sometimes I feel like everything is stacked against me, and I just want to be a college student with a part-time job and a great boyfriend. I want to have a life beyond killing evil things, you know?

“I’m sorry. I’m complaining, but if you’re not too busy looking after Dean, could you look after me  sometimes, too? We’re usually together anyway. And Giles and Will and Xander and Dawn? And Spike, who is probably not doing so hot right now.” Was is sacrilegious to pray for a vampire? Did it matter if she wasn’t religious anyway?

“So, yeah, thanks for saving Dean, and I hope to hear from you soon.”

Easily the worst prayer in the history of praying. Castiel would probably share it with his angel friends and laugh at her. Even so, she felt calm enough to maybe, finally, get some sleep.

By the morning, Buffy’s cuts had fully healed, and Willow helped her remove the unnecessary stitches. Breathing came easier as well, though she doubted her bones were fully mended. Xander was kind enough to drive her to the Winchester’s apartment.

“You tell them I’ll be by on Monday to kick their asses in poker,” he called after her as she crossed the street to their building.

She smiled. “I don’t know if they’ll be up for poker by then.”

“Exactly! This is my one chance.”

She let herself in and found Dottie Johnson, their senile neighbor, sitting on the couch flipping through an old book that Buffy hoped was about something benign, not pointy.

The old woman lowered her book and scowled at Buffy before her eyes settled on her silver cross. “Good girl,” she said, her voice as rickety as an old rocking chair. “Do I know you?”

“Hi, Mrs. Johnson. I’m Dean’s girlfriend, Buffy. Remember?”

“Who names a child Buffy?”

Wanting to avoid a conversation she’d had several times, Buffy shrugged and set down a pan of Dawn’s get-better brownies in the kitchen. She was still searching for all the Winchesters’ booze when Jada emerged from Sam’s bedroom. She smiled more than anyone Buffy had ever met, but today the smile couldn’t get to her eyes. Usually dressed pristine and professional, she was casual in jeans and glittery cat t-shirt, with a pink headband holding back her hair.

“Buffy! I didn’t know you were here.” Jada eyed the stockpile of beer and whiskey.

“Sorry, I thought I should hide the alcohol while the guys are on painkillers.”

“That’s probably a good idea. We can take it to my place.”

Jada examined Buffy’s bruise-free skin. “You must have been buckled in. I’m glad someone walked away okay.”

“Wasn’t an accident,” said Dottie. “It was the vampires.” She held up the book she’d been flipping through and pointed with her gnarled finger to a bumpy-faced, fanged block print.

The bit of a smile Jada had been able to muster gave way. “Of course.”

“Books say Heaven’s gonna send a saviour. A girl. She’s gonna kill all the vampires,” Dottie continued.

Not usually given the opportunity to hear civilians talk about her, Buffy pounced. “What else do the books say about her?”

Jada glanced at Buffy with mild annoyance -- probably the dirtiest look she’d ever given anyone -- and ignored the supernatural conversation. “Auntie, would you like some music? How about I bring over some of your records?” With that plan, her smile was back in place as she took the booze away.

Buffy scooted around the old woman. “I’m going to check on the guys.”

“You tell them not to worry. The Slayer’s gonna save us from Hell,” Dottie said.

She peeked into Sam’s room and found him reading in bed. Planting a kiss on his forehead, she said, “Thank you.”

He smiled sleepily, a small blush blooming on his cheeks. “For what?”

“Teaching me how to pray.”

She sneaked into Dean’s room. Sleeping with his headphones on, he reclined against a pile of pillows, with blankets bunched up under his cast foot. His face peaceful, lips slightly parted. Wearing nothing but his boxers, the bruises on his arms and ribs were dark reminders of the violence he’d endured.

Strains of piano and brushed snare floated in from the other room. Dean took off his headphones, and, noticing her for the first time, broke into a room-lighting smile. “Hey, beautiful. What’s up with the music?”

A gravelly voice sang, “Give me a kiss to build a dream on / And my imagination will thrive upon that kiss.”

“Jada is trying to distract her aunt from vampire stories.”

Dean chuckled.

She sat on the edge of his bed, and he started to rub her thigh. “Dottie wants me to tell you the Slayer is going to save us all.”

“I heard a rumor about that. Cas is listening to you. That feathery s.o.b. has been ignoring me for months.” He played with her fingers before tugging her close. His kiss was slow and firm, an ocean of gratitude wrapped in the press of lips.  

Foreheads pressed together, enjoying the closeness of him, she asked, “Now that you know he’s listening, are you going to trying praying again?”

“Yeah, I need to make sure Bobby’s okay.”

“But do you still want to go home?”

Running his fingers through her hair, he said, “I ain’t leaving you, darlin’.”

She heard his words, but thought -- hoped -- that he was saying something else. The same thing she hoped he was saying every time he drove her to work when she was running late. Every night he made her dinner. Every time he patched her up after a fight. When he stayed in town, though they were only planning to be a fling. When he didn’t run after learning about Spike, after -- everything else.

“I love you, too,” she said.

“Please don’t freak out. I don’t need you to say it back or anything. I just--” She choked back tears. “I almost lost you, and I needed to say it to make sure you heard the words. It’s not like my loving you could make us any more marked than we already are.”

Dean stared at the ceiling and chewed his lip, a habit amplified when he was hunting for honesty. Uncertain, Buffy laid beside him. He squeezed her hand, letting her know that whatever his response was, it wouldn’t be leave.

Of course, he’d heard the words before. When his mom used to sing him to sleep at night, then tuck him in and whisper, “Goodnight, angel. I love you.” And he believed her. She was the one who took care of him when he was sick, who bandaged his knees when he’d fall down.

But that was only one of a handful of times he’d heard it. Usually, it was cold comfort in a bad situation. His dad would say it after an extra week away, pretending it wiped away the things Dean had to do for food. A few one-night-stands had shouted it as they fucked, the flailing of someone drowning in loneliness. It was always on the lips of the dying, a hopeless goodbye with a pretty bow.

This brush-with-death declaration felt like the latter. He whispered, “You don’t think we’re going to make it, do you?”

“What? Why would you say that?”

He continued looking at the ceiling as he spoke. “Because I already know how you feel about me. Not gonna lie, for a while I held my breath and thought you’d wake up at any moment and run away screaming, but you didn’t, Buffy. You dug in, and damn it hurt sometimes, but you helped me be a better man, healed some things in me that had been broken for a long time. And a person doesn’t do that if they don’t care.”

“Then what’s so wrong about saying it?” she whispered.

He smiled at her, hoping to ease her. “Nothing’s wrong, Girly. It just sounds so final, you know? We’re fighting this dickbag from beyond that doesn’t even have a body but somehow has an army, and it just kicked our asses. I’d be dead if it wasn’t for Cas.”

Hearing the words, Buffy couldn’t hold back her tears any longer.

“Hey, come on. Don’t -- Ow! God!” Dean tried to reach out, but gabbed his ribs before rolling onto his back again. “Look,” he said between pained breaths. “I’ve seen a lotta people in their last moments. You know what they always say?”

She didn’t have to answer.

They lay quietly listening to the man on the record player sing, “When you kiss me heaven sighs / And though I close my eyes / I see la vie en rose.”

“I promise you this,” Dean said. “I wake up every day and think about ways I can show you how crazy I am about you, and I’m gonna keep doing it until the world is ashes. Okay?”

She smiled hopefully. “You’re crazy about me?”

“Tom-Cruise-jumping-on-a-couch crazy.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Buffy laughed.

Dean grinned. “It will in a few years.”

The man kept warbling, “And when you speak / Angels sing from above / Everyday words seems / To turn into love song.”

“How long are you staying?” he asked.

“As long as you need me to.”

“Forever then?”

“Forever.”

Read Giles’ dossiers on: Dani    Cloé    Naomi      Molly    Grace    Wook    Keisha    Leticia    Lys

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[jojuarez26]

When love just isn't enough. How it began

Mature context and strong language Divergent fanfiction: Eric @pathybo @tigpooh67 @ljvosscmt @beautifulramblingbrains @clublulu333 @glamlover87 @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995 @scorpio2009 @societalfailure @equalstrashflavoredtrash @anditcametopass @angolodiparadiso @deepfrz @crystalbaby12 @frecklefaceb It was another typical day of hiding in the Erudite library during my lunch hour. Being Dauntless born most people found this peculiar. I just enjoyed learning. This however caused me to be a bit of a loner. The Dauntless born found me too boring. The Erudite born found me inadequate because I only enjoyed knowledge, I don't thirst for it I do however have one boy from Abnegation I would like to think is my friend. He's a bit of a loner himself. His father is the head of the city council. He always looked lonely and sad. So I just started sitting by him sometimes. Eventually he realized we didn't need to talk he just wasn't all alone. So he even started to just sit by me or find me when he just needed someone to be there. As I continued to read and escape reality in my book I suddenly got the feeling of being watched. I carefully peered around the library out of the corner of my eyes. When I realized who it was watching me an unsettled feeling hit me. It was Eric Coulter. Self proclaimed king of the Erudite dependents. I didn't see him surrounded by his usual entourage. He was extremely good looking and wickedly smart. All the boys wanted to be him and all the girls wanted to be with him. Except for me that is. I seen Eric for who he really was. A cruel, manipulative, egotistical sadist. Eric took great pleasure in other people's pain. He liked to let people know he thought he was better than them. He also had had a goal he recently obtained. He wanted to "conquer" a female from each faction. I assume the end game was to prove what Eric wants Eric gets. He had easily charmed the panties literally of an Erudite and a Dauntless. He had to work a little harder for a Candor, but in the end she had conceded. The Amity girl wasn't so hard to get, I just think he found it boring. It had been to easy, with the free love and all. The one that had been the hardest and I assume the one that made him the most proud of himself was the Abnegation girl. He had picked his victim and used his intelligence with a cold calculated plan. He used her selflessness against her to convince her that submitting to him and his needs and desires was the selfless thing to do. After he finally achieved his goal he then proceeded to break her. He threw it in her face how she had so selfishly enjoy their indiscretion. Told her she was a disgrace to herself and her faction, that she should be ashamed of herself for being weak and giving in to selfish indulgent pleasures. A few days later she stopped coming to school. It was now three weeks later and she still hadn't returned. I suddenly saw movement from Eric's direction. He had stood up and was walking in my direction. He came to stand in front of me and folded his arms across his chest. After an awkward moment of starring at me in silence he finally spoke. "A Dauntless who can read. I'm impressed, " he sneered. What the hell did he want. "An arrogant, egotistical Erudite. I'm not impressed," I replied trying to sound bored and uninterested. He usual sneer turned into a slightly amused smirk. He still continued to just stand and stared. I finally reached a peak of annoyance. "Is there something I can assisted you with Eric? If not would you be so kind as to be on your way and leave to my solitude. " I made sure my voice was dripping with irritation and callous. However this didn't have the affect I had desired. His eyes lit up in amusement, curiosity and satisfaction. "You know my name, " he said with pleasure and mild seduction in his voice. I just rolled my eyes. "Everyone knows the name of the maniacal, self proclaimed king of the Erudite dependents, " I snapped. Why wouldn't he just go away. After my statement he grabbed a chair and sat next to me. He sat so close our knees touched. I wanted to recoil in disgust that he was invading my personal space. However I forced myself not to. Any hint of weakness and Eric pounced like a predator stalking it's prey. "Actually there is something you can help me with Y/N. I'm impressed by your vocabulary by the way, " he smirked. It threw me off slightly that he knew my name. The Dauntless instincts in me screamed to just get up and walk away. However the curious part of me got the better of me. "You know my name. I am know slightly impressed. So please do tell Eric. What on earth could I possibly help you with." I instantly recognized the glint in his eye. He was pleased and his game was on. I had to tread carefully. I refused to be another static of Eric Coulter. "I'm going to assume with all your knowledgeable traits you've just displayed you know what the dependents ball is and it's purpose. " I just gave a nod to acknowledge I understood. It is a very prestigious event Erudite put on before each choosing ceremony. It's purpose was to give dependents the opportunity to meet the Leaders of each faction that chose to participate and get minor insight to the inner workings of the factions if you chose to become a member. The catch was you had to be invited by a leader of a participating faction. They did it anonymously so there was no bias opinion on the dependents part. The only other way to attend was to be invited as an escort by a chosen dependent. After a moment he spoke again. " I would like for you to do the honor of being my escort." He had a dangerous twinkle in his eyes. I couldn't help myself when I burst into laughter. That was the most ridiculous thing I had heard. Why would I ever want to escort HIM for starters. Then came the question of why in the hell would he choose me. A nobody. A girl who just kept to herself with no desire of recognition from anyone. Especially him. " I don't think so Eric. Talk to one of your many admirers and I am sure you will find no shortage of girls who would be flattered that you requested their presents. Now if you'll excuse me I have to go before I'm late for my next class." I stood to go and walk away, but he was quick. He grabbed my arm and spun me around. There was a furious look in his eyes. Nobody told Eric Coulter no. But I just did and it was obvious he didn't like it "Did you really just decline my invitation. Do you have any idea how honored you should feel I chose you." Now it was my turn to become angry. Eric was no prize to be won in my eyes. In fact he was a poison that slowly killed you when he crept into your veins. I wanted no part of anything he had to offer. I snatched my arm back and gave him the most viscous glare I could muster. "I don't know what game it is you are playing but I am not interested in the slightest. Now once again if you'll excuse me I have to go." I turned and started to walk away and he of course followed me. "Since when is a Dauntless born worried about being late to class? As many questions as I have right now I will ask you the one that baffles me the most. Why wouldn't you want to go with me?" I stopped in my tracks and spun around to face him. Was he kidding me? Why didn't I want to go with him. My blood was officially boiling. "Have you met yourself Eric? You are cruel and manipulative. Fecious and condescending. You use people for your own gain. When their purpose is served you throw them out like garbage. So, there is your answer as to why I would prefer to never go anywhere with you." I expected to see fury and malice in his eyes. I was shocked when I recognized intrigue with a hint of desire. What in the hell? "I knew I made the right choice when I chose you. You will be my escort." Who did he think he was? There was no way I was going anywhere with him. I detest him. I know the almighty Eric wasn't used to not getting what he wants, but I was more than happy to disappoint. "I don't think so. Leave me alone. I have somewhere to be." I turned back around to continue on my way to class. I didn't get very far before I was shoved up against the wall. Eric pinned me between the wall and himself leaning on me to essentially trap me. He put his face so close to mine I could feel the tickle of his breathe when he spoke. "Y/N you should know I ALWAYS get what I want. Right now I want you, " he spoke in a low intense tone. I think he was intending to instill fear in me. However that was not the emotion he provoked. "Sorry to be your first. You will not get anything from me. I am not all these girls that worship the ground you walk on. Now get the fuck off of me," I hissed venomous. I could see the wheels turning in his eyes. I had inadvertently just offered him a challenge and he was more than eager to except. He moved his head so that his lips touched the shell of my ear when he spoke. "I will get what I want Y/N. I am a patient individual who is willing to work to get what I want. I think this time I want to play for keeps." He let his lips linger on my ear for a second more before he leaned back away from me. He raised his right hand and gently ran his knuckles down the side of my face. He finally backed his body off me and gave me a eerie smirk. "I'll be seeing you around Y/N. That is both a threat and a promise." Then he simply turned and walked away. What in the fuck just happened. Why was Eric suddenly taking an interest in me? I also got a dreaded feeling I just engaged him in his grandest challenge yet. Damn it. My life was about to become a living hell.

[genogenocrazycatman]

Meet the Bats - (Tim Drake x OC)

Some ages for the bat boys for this shit, because I do what I want, and I do not give a fuck about comic book timelines.

Damian 10-11

Tim 18-19

Jason 22-23

Dick 26-27

"Are you sure about this?"

 Tim chuckled at the nervous individual in his passenger seat. "Yes, Sky. One-hundred percent."

 "What if they don't like me?"

Tim reached over the center console and took younger’s hand into his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Damian doesn't like anyone, because he's a pretentious, spoiled brat, who believes that he was bread better than everyone else, so ignore him."

 "Okay. Don't worry about Damian,” Sky repeated, trying to convince themselves of Tim’s words.

 "Jason, is an asshole, so ignore him too."

 "Timmy, this is your family," Skylar scolded.

 "Yep, and that means I know better than anyone else how obnoxious they are. Well not better than Alfred." He kept going. "Dick will love you, and be super nice. Bruce will probably be polite, but cold. That’s just how he is. Don’t take it to heart. He’ll warm up eventually.”

 Tim kept the ‘I hope,’ he tagged on to the end of that sentence in his mind.

 "Anyone else I have to worry about?"

 "Quit worrying. The only one left is Alfred and he already likes you."

 Sky looked at Tim and then up at the estate that they were getting closer and closer to.

 "I promise you, nothing will go wrong. They're all really eager to meet you."

 "They are?"

 "I've never brought anyone home to meet them officially."

 "That totally helps my nerves,” Sky said, sarcastically, feeling their nerves spike.

 Tim pulled up in front of the house and parked the car. Jason's motorcycle and Dick's Audi were both out front, signaling that neither of them had any intention of staying.  

 "Babe, look at me."

 Sky looked away from the door to Tim. "Relax. Trust me. We're probably the most dysfunctional group you'll ever meet. No one's going to judge you. No one in there has room to judge." He pressed a quick kiss to Sky's lips. "Better now?"

 Sky nodded. "Yeah. Better."

 "Then let's go."

 The pair exited the car and linking hands again entered the manor.

 Sky looked around, in awe of the home. "I knew you were rich, but oh my God."

 "My home away from home," Tim said. The manor made his apartment look like a closet. Despite the fact that it had been a while since he actually resided there, it still felt more like home than his current place.

 "They're probably all in the dining room," Tim said, gently leading Sky through the house into the dining room.

 Tim stopped neither amused nor surprised at the scene in front of him.

 Jason and Damian were wrestling on the floor. Damian had a sleeper hold on Jason, who was on his hands and knees, trying to stand up.

 "Really Jay? You're gonna get beat by the ten year old?" Dick laughed at Jason.

 "Boys," Bruce scolded lightly, trying to hide his smile.

 "Uh... guys?"

 Everyone turned towards Tim and Skylar, Sky hiding slightly behind the brunette.

 There was a moment of silence. Damian and Jason, still locked in their fighting positions both seemingly froze to observe the new comer. Damian's gaze was critical, Jason's more irritated than anything, with Damian still on his back. Dick's expression was pleasant, and Bruce's face portrayed very little. He looked nice enough, like he would for any of his business partners, but Tim could see past the smile. He could practically feel the calculations going on in Bruce's head.

 "Guys, this is Skylar. Skylar, this is Damian, Jason, and Dick, my brothers, Bruce, my father, and Alfred, who you've already met."

 "It is as always a pleasure."

 "It's good to see you too Alfred," Skylar replied, before addressing the others. "Hello."

 Bruce rose from his seat. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Skylar," he said, putting his hand out to shake.

 "It's nice to meet you too, Mr. Wayne," Sky said, shaking Bruce's hand.

 "Please, just call me Bruce."

 "Someone get this little cretin off of me?" Jason said, finally making it to his feet.

 Damian released Jason and walked over to Skylar. He eyed them up and down. "How old are you?"

 Tim groaned.

 Skylar was a bit taken aback by the youngest of the Wayne boys.

 "Seventeen."

 "How tall are you?"

 "Five feet ten inches? What does-"

 "Weight?"

 "Damian," Bruce said in a warning tone.

 "How many quarterings-"

 Dick had gotten up out of his chair to greet the pair. He hooved a hand over Damian's mouth, ignoring the pain of small teeth biting into the flesh there. He wasn't breaking skin, so he would be fine.

 "I'm Dick. It's a pleasure to meet you. Tim's never brought anyone to meet us before." Dick like Bruce, shook Skylar's hand, the one that wasn't currently locked in Damian's death bite.

 "Can't say that I blame him, between you, the demon spawn and Bruce up there. I wouldn't bring anyone here either," Jason said, leaning back in his chair.

 Bruce gave him a disapproving glare.

 "That would involve someone wanting to go anywhere with you," Damian said, releasing his grip on Dick's hand to taunt Jason.

 Dick tried not to laugh. Tried being the operative word.

 "What are you laughing at Dickie?"

 "I didn't say anything.”

 “The only girls you ever brought around were Kori and Babs, and even then that wasn’t really your choice.”

 That was true. Babs had already been around, and they met Kori as a result of titan business.

 Dick went to retort, but Tim cut him off. "Alright!" He felt a migraine coming on. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Can we just have dinner, and you all not fight?" he asked. He knew that he was asking too much. Sure, on a mission or in the public eye, they could at least be subtle with their constant bickering, but at home there was no chance.

 He led Skylar to a chair and like a gentleman pulled the seat out for them. The others all settled into, waiting for their meal.

 "So Skylar, Tim says that you're really smart, that you skipped a couple grades," Dick said conversationally.

 "Yeah. I'm actually in my first year of college."

 "That's impressive. Where at?"

 "Right now community college, but I plan on transferring. It's cheaper that way."

 "That's smart," Bruce commended.

 "What are you studying?"

 "Journalism."

 Tim knew that the calm and charming charade that the boys had been putting up was only partially sincere. He was well aware that they were all hypervigilant, looking for some sign that Sky couldn't be trusted, that they were a threat. It was almost as if they could feel their eyes, focusing in on the pair of them, every micro glance taken towards each move either of them made and for every possible expression.

 "So how come Timmy hasn't brought you around before tonight?"

 "You'd have to ask him," Sky said.

 "Because you're a pain in the ass," he said to Jason. "And you," he looked at Damian, "are even worse."

 Alfred entered, setting down plates in front of everyone, before retreating to the kitchen. The conversation flowed easily, a comfortable mix of memories, embarrassing stories, questions and banter.

 Tim was pleasantly surprised. After a while, the hawk like eyes finally eased their searching and he found himself actually enjoying the evening, so much so that he found them all still at the table, long after their deserts had been finished.

 Finally Tim looked at the time on his phone.  "It's getting late. I should get Sky home."

 "Yeah. I should probably get going. I have class in the morning. It was nice meeting you all. Thank you for dinner."

 "It was no trouble. It was nice to meet you as well. I hope we get to see more of you around the manor," Bruce said.

 "Yeah, don't be a stranger."

 They said their goodbyes and headed to the car. Once inside, Tim looked at Skylar.  "That wasn't so bad was it?"

 "No. Your brothers are funny."

 "They're not really funny. They're just idiots."

 "Either way, I like them."

 "Good, because they like you. Now let's get you home."

 Inside, Jason was glaring at Dick, who was looking at him expectantly.

 “You told him.”

 "No I didn't."

 “You bribed him.”

 "Or you don’t give Damian enough credit. Doesn’t matter. You still lost.”

 Jason shoved a twenty dollar bill in Dick's hand.

 "Alfred?" Jason asked.

 "While I did tell Master Damian to be on his best behavior, but it had nothing to do with the wager between you and Master Dick.”

 “Can we discuss as to why you two placed a bet on whether or not I would be the one scar Drake’s significant other off? I simply was making sure that they were suitable, as a potential member of this family. You two were the one’s recounting embarrassing tales from Drake’s past.”

 Bruce was happy with the evening’s events. His boys had a good time, and he was glad to see Tim with someone, who made him happy.

 "Is Master Drake coming back?" Alfred asked.

 "I don't know," Bruce replied. He checked his watch. "I'm sure if he does, he'll catch up."

 "Last one to the cave is-"

 "Gonna be you!" Damian said, using Jason to spring board over Dick and towards the cave.

 "You little fucker!" Jason yelled chasing after him, Dick right beside him.

 Bruce shook his head, with a small smile on his face.

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