#Except the knife and gun would clearly be a bat in this case

[noyzinerd]

How bad guys think Stiles looks when he's mad:

How the pack thinks Stiles looks when he's mad:

How people, who have actually witnessed the spiteful gremlin that is Stiles Stilinski (but most definitely Derek, let's be honest) think Stiles looks when he's mad:

...aaaaand this is how Stiles thinks he looks when he's mad:

<<How Derek looks when he's mad>>

[river-bottom-nightmare]

Nightwing 83 Review

guess who isn't weeks late this time. my opinion of the series is going up a little bit. it's still not great, but i'm not actively put off by it anymore the way i was after 81. not going to tag as spoilers, but be warned that they are under the cut

i’m sure you all are well aware of this but now, but dear god i love bruno redondo’s art. like, an unhealthy amount. the pink and blue is getting to be a theme with either him or just this run, but i am definitely enjoying it. the movement in this cover is clearly obvious, but well done. you recoznize right off the bat that the cover was drawn to drag your eyes down the page until you get to the bottom, but you enjoy the whole ride there. 

also, redondo’s way of drawing a character in stages of action so we can see just how much they’re doing in a split second of movement is quickly becoming something i like to see drawn with dick, and any other character that has that sort of ease of movement and body sense, like cass or sin or maybe a super. 

and he’s in action the entire time! there’s shot drawn just to show off a shirtless comic book character, the way nightwing is so often subjected to. he’s shirtless because he’s changing his clothes, and that’s all we see, no more and no less. very practical, very well done. i like it.

he looks so cute right here oh my god. the little squint, the hair curls. it’s adorable.

but also like. unless melinda has specifically outfitted the door spyhole so that the person on the other side can’t see dick looking through it (and in all honesty she might have) then everyone on the other side can see dick looking through that door. 

bringing your attention back to the “i can’t see melinda’s fbi file oh no!! it’s redacted!! whatever can we do!!” stupidity. redacted files are child’s play for oracle, and definitely doable for both dick and bruce. so that’s bullshit.

now, melinda apparently grew up with the maroni family, then took down part of the family from the inside. the maroni family is a large and notable presence in gotham, one that bruce pays a respectable amount of attention to. he definitely would have grown suspicious when two members of the maroni family were taken down, and with some investigation, he would have discovered melinda’s plan. and it should go without saying that the majority of things you see batman doing? dick can do it too.

it’s not so much that i don’t like how clever the villains/antiheroes are getting. i don’t like how dc heroes are increasingly written as less intelligent. they seem to be relying on pure fighting skills or luck, which may be the case for a couple heroes, but has never been the case for most of dc’s big name heroes, the bat family included. it’s irritating to me to see this sort of stuff pop up as a major plot point when i know that, if dick or bruce had been written with the amount of skill and power that they canonically possess, this entire mess would have been sorted out years ago.

unrelated but dick and melinda have the same hair

this may just be me, but i was always under the impression that dick doesn’t really have a “double life???”

yes, he’s talented enough to create enough differences between robin/nightwing and dick grayson’s mannerisms, way of movement, voices, and speech patterns so that it’s very difficult to put the two together.

but nightwing has never been separate from dick grayson, not the way bruce and batman is. he’s always leaned more towards clark in that aspect: his hero persona is an exaggerated, stately, larger-than-life version of who he really is. there’s no second persona, no real “dick grayson identity” and “nightwing identity.” they’re the same person with the same goals, ideas, and skills. one just pretends to abide by the law, and one gives up pretense of that.

oh good thank god. if he’d trusted her right off the bat (hehe. bat.) i would have slapped him upside the head. at least he’s still got instincts.

gosh the colouring on this is cool. the red has enough purple and pink tones to it that it doesn’t abruptly ruin the tone of the artwork. but it’s definitely glaring enough to take the reader outside of this personal moment they had slipped into between dick and melinda, to put them back in the present where they’re reminded that oh yea there are people hunting dick down. 

the next panel keeps this up too, in a less severe way. melinda’s bodyguard shows up (i forgot her name sorry :[ ) and subtly places us in the middle of an action scene rather than a private, personal scene.

laughing so fucking hard have our little vigilantes grown so accustomed to breaking into places that it doesn’t even register as a crime anymore??? tim coming in through the fire escape to pick bernard up for their date and being very much confused as to why bernard is freaking out.

i really like melinda’s shirt and now despite all the work i have to do and the fucking conference i have to host on monday i want to spend hours scrolling through clothing shops online trying to find this shirt. the mock neck/neckline is so cool i want it

so roland just assumes that a very dangerous vigilante who is highly talented in combat and a very dangerous bodyguard who is also highly talented in combat had a fight that ended with this very dangerous bodyguard being tied up and she looks completely fine? roland just assumes that her having no visible wounds or bruises means that they got into a fight and she lost that easily? uh. aight then

dick what are you doing. legitimately what the fuck are you doing. why are you posing oh my god. you are injured and tired and in absolutely no position to go hand to hand with one of main enemies. jesus christ run away or head to lower ground or something. don’t just stand around letting the floodlights show exactly where you are.

i don’t understand what he’s trying to do here??? blockbuster fully bought the story that dick fought them both, won, tried to get info out of them and failed, then hightailed it out of there. he didn’t have to draw roland out for a fight.

but it does look cool. the way the light just highlights his silhouette and the blue parts of his costume does look badass. he does get style points in my book for this.

w h a t  d i d  i  f u c k i n g  t e l l  y o u ,  d i c k ?

very classic superhero line and it does sound like something dick would say in a fit of righteous rage but also it makes me laugh so hard because all vigilantes think they’re so powerful that the law doesn’t apply to them. dick vigilantism is illegal. you’re acting above the law and pretending it doesn’t apply to you. hypocritical much?

it happens so often in superhero movies, tv shows, comics, whatever and it makes me giggle every damn time.

pretty decent comeback but before i start seeing people writing blockbuster as a thug i’m going to remind you that he made a deal with a demon for genius level intellect. if this turns into another bane situation i’m going to be a little miffed. he’s a smart man, which makes him a dangerous and infinitely more interesting enemy for nightwing.

this is so horribly in character i want to scream. (or. at least. it lines up with one of the versions of nightwing i have in my head.) he’s running right towards the bullets, miraculously doesn’t get shot, while making a sort-of pun. i hate this so much. i love him.

this is cool. this art is really really cool.

he leaped from a building right towards a helicopter that’s actively shooting at him, but none of the bullets are touching him. none of the corruption of the city can touch him no matter how hard it tries, because he’s too good to be corrupted. Comic Book Logic Can Be Good Sometimes Actually.

batman’s belt what??? swiss army knife who?? sorry, i only know nightwing’s bright blue escrima.

this is one of my favourite things about heroes with exceptional abilities, even more so if the hero is human. the things they can do are so far beyond the realm of normal human abilities that it’s equal parts terrifying and awe-inspiring every time they act.

he just used modified grappling wires to hook to the door of a moving helicopter, swung around the helicopter safely without hitting the blades, gained exactly the right momentum to swing upward again right through the opening of helicopter, then fought and tied up the men before they had any idea what was happening. that’s near impossible to do.

it’s stuff like this where i just sort of sigh in contentment. no matter how many times they leave out dick’s detective skills or conveniently forget that he’s actually a master planner and team leader and make him out to be this forgetful dude who makes everything up on the fly because of his “circus roots,” at least they won’t ever take away dick’s sheer physical ability honed to perfection. 

the art, too! in a few panels, dick’s drawn a little lightened or blurred. he’s moving so quickly and fighting so efficiently that he can barely be seen by the enemy. he’s got perfect form all the way through.

and THIS!

there was a helicopter that had five men shooting at him with what looks like machine guns. most people would be dead. some would run away, and be nimble enough to survive without fatal hits. there are very few people, even in fucking comic books, who can look at that hopeless situation and turn it around so quickly and thoroughly that he benefits from it instead.

i just. love nightwing.

it was funny the first time as a comic reader aware of the meme. it’s really not anymore. why the hell would you, in universe, be wearing a shirt that has a picture of your boyfriend being hit in the face by his father. 

okay that was funny. 

look at lil bitewing, so concerned for her human!!! love her sm. 

also a question as to the timeline of things. is nightwing happening before or after urban legends? 

i was so distracted by dick wearing a robe and briefs and nothing else that i didn’t register the second part until later. he slept for two days?? babs, baby, he recently had a very traumatic brain injury. why do you sound so nonchalant?

@TIM X COFFEE SHIPPERS GET FUCCCCKKKKEEDDDDD

ngl i totally forgot about that dude oops

this comic is giving so many reaction pictures. you know how you always use the worst possible picture of your friend for your friend’s contact picture? i’m just getting so many of these.

leslie!!! the titans!!! lucius!!! dick going to go see old friends!!!! the titans!!! this part made me so irrationally happy it really did. gar being the one to just. offer dick solutions with open arms. this was the best

i wish i could just copy and paste this entire scene, but that would take up way too much space, so i’m just going to talk about it instead. 

you gave me my name, nightwing, and you gave me some of the best advice i’ve received in my life: beautiful little throwback to nightwing’s origin. you’d be surprised at the amount of people who don’t know where the name came from, or who don’t know how much clark means to dick. and the fact that dick still looks up to clark as a hero, recognizes that clark isn’t always perfect and yet continues to hold him in such high esteem, and still looks back on advice that clark gave him fondly just warmed my heart so much.

for a man who has fearlessly stood up to darkseid, bruce will do a lot to avoid a conversation: “grrr. i’m the BATMAN. i’m so DARK and MYSTERIOUS. nobody knows the true me. no one ever will. i will be LONELY for the rest of my CURSED LIFE. such is the price of a hero. ignore my farmer himbo husband in the background”

but i don’t think there’s anything heroic about being a billionaire: another nod to how much dick follows clark’s example rather than bruce. yes, this was a very poignant and important criticism, and i think it’s wonderful that this was published in a pretty popular comic book. but the thing is, there is a way to be a heroic billionaire, but only in fictional universes. the way bruce, ollie, t’challa only ever use their wealth to help people. they donate massive amounts of money to charities that they themselves create so they know exactly how the money is being used. they hire people who aren’t likely to get jobs anywhere else and pay them much more than what a base living wage is. they use their power to help push progressive laws and social change. they are helping. 

dick doesn’t fully see it that way. he spent more than half his childhood the son of a billionaire, but still believes that one could be more heroic when one doesn’t have obscene amounts of wealth. whose example do you think he followed to come to that conclusion?

superman looked up to alfred pennyworth?: i mean yea alfred may have been a wildly irresponsible guardian and one hell of an enabler but goddamn if he didn’t love his kid.

you don’t need my input. you’ve thought it all through: ooooooh this line made me grin. for so long, dick’s treated clark as a mentor and a guiding figure. he’s still seen as a kid, an up and coming, snot-nosed titan with dreams of a better world. clark still thinks of him as a kid, despite watching him grow up. but this little line was something i think dick needed sorely to hear. he doesn’t need anyone’s guiding hand on his shoulder, he doesn’t need to ask for permission. he doesn’t need clark to support him the way he did when he was a teenager. he’s all grown up now, and he doesn’t need clark’s help. i imagine it was a bit of a surprise for dick to hear that. 

honestly, i couldn’t think of a better role model: ohhh but it doesn’t stop there. clark just straight up turns the tables on dick. imagine you’re dick, and you’ve looked up to this one hero your entire life, and then one day he turns to you and says that he thinks you’re so kind and smart and worthy of a person that he wants you to mentor his son!? goes to show just how much clark trusts dick.

i swear to god dick probably cries every time he hears clark compliment him because bruce is so rare and sparing with his praise that clark giving him the slightest hint of approval is just a dopamine rush.

also, now deathstroke and superman have both asked nightwing to mentor their kids. the juxtaposition is fuckin hysterical. imagine either of their reactions when they realize what kind of company they’re with

lets talk colours for a second, because i absolutely adore how classic colour tropes have been subverted in this comic, and in this general run really.

warm tones have usually (usually, not always) been associated with light and comfort and friendship and,,,,,well,,,warmth. whereas cool tones are usually used to unsettle, or make a scene seem colder and put the reader on edge. this varies if a comic only uses cool tones, or only uses warm tones, but if a comic uses both, this is generally well-used.

that isn’t the case in this run.

dark red, orange, and other warm tones have been used to symbolize danger, action, attacks. hot pink isn’t usually included in this colour group, but it’s definitely part of it in this case. in contrast, scenes that have cool colours give us the impression of slipping into a comfortable, calm scene with babs, tim, the titans, and other allies. even the beginning scene with superman has this blue, but then it transitions into something more golden coloured. dawn broke over dick, as his new idea came to light, and that was reflected in the art (and the sunrise setting.)

have there ever been times when dick’s longed for the comfort of his mask because he didn’t feel confident as dick grayson? i can’t think of any. i may be wrong, but this struck me as pretty ooc.

am i just??? gay and reading this all wrong??

cause i was under the impression that when someone says they are grateful for your friendship you don’t immediately kiss them. 

or is this like. normal straight mating rituals.

i mean he’s smiling afterward but still babs aren’t you supposed to at least make sure it’s okay first? you guys broke up a while back after you said something along the lines of “i want to be coworkers with you and nothing more because i don’t trust you or feel comfortable around you as a civilian anymore.” like lmao after you say something like that to someone i would assume that you don’t have the permission to just kiss them whenever you want.

show of hands who else got real sad when they realized dick was talking about himself in this.

sure, he could be referencing the things he’s seen blockbuster pull, and the children on the streets. but “i’ve seen money used for enforcement,” sounds a little too close to dick’s entire life being destroyed by one man threatening the circus to pay protection money for me to completely ignore. and “i’ve seen the poorest and most vulnerable blamed and punished rather than assisted” becomes a lot worse when you remember dick was thrown in juvie for a couple months until bruce was able to obtain legal guardianship, and in there, not a authority figure believed him when he told them his parents were murdered.

he’s lived this before.

a. mother. fucking. typo.

fucking why

i mean i’ve stated my distaste for the batfamily groupchat before but like. this is reaching new levels of ridiculousness. jason sounds like he was written by a fanfic writer. tim sounds like he was written by a fanfic writer. steph sounds like she was written by someone who doesn’t know the first thing about steph and wanted to include her for “family points!!!!!” damian’s supposed to be completely off the grid, and everyone’s searching for him. i do love the way cass texts tho.

well god fuck now i’m crying

dick got a phone call, a sorry, and a thank you out of bruce. i feel so much secondhand happiness for him, if that’s a thing. we’ll just ignore the way bruce looks ugly af and focus on the good parts okay?

and again with the colour symbolism here!

i’m either going to love this or hate this. who knows, we’ll see.

something something hearts something something pink is an evil colour something something. i need to know more about this guy but there’s definitely symbolism there. 

is it just me or does this dude look like the backstabbing traitorous absolutely motherfucking piece of shit villain that killed tadashi hamada in big hero 6?

~~

taggggg list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan  @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @bikoncon @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridge @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy @red-hood-redemption​ @capricorn-stark​ @batshit-birds​ @comics-observer @buticaaba​ 

[writing-of-a-british-bitch]

Blame Me- Chapter 3

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Specified gender: Female

Word Count: 5.7K

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x reader,

TW: Cannibalism (thanks Terminus), reference to past major character death, detailed gore, canon typical violence, canon divergence, reference to past child death, angry Daryl (if that counts), Daryl being mean about religion( IG?)

Genre: Horror ig?

Series: Blame Me

Requests: CLOSED

Masterlist

A/N: I will warn you, I kind of got carried away with Chapter 4, so get ready for that tomorrow. This one felt a little rushed, but the ending is worth it (I hope!) Enjoy!

For once, Daryl was cursing himself for being right. Terminus had been too fucking good to be true. Ask too many questions, and apparently, you get eaten. He was lined up, with Glenn, Bob and Rick, and apparently, he was the only one fighting against them. They just sat there and let them tie them up for fucks sake. He couldn't die, not like this. He wouldn't die just to be someones damn meal. Daryl got shoved in front of a trough-like bowl that stretched before the other men who were on either side of him. One look from Rick and Glenn made him pause, and he glared right back, breathing heavily, but he stopped fighting. The room was deadly still as two people dressed in butchers outfit came in, and he went cold. Fuck. They walked to the opposite end, grabbing the hair of a blonde guy at the end and one smacked him with a baseball bat. Once he was out, the other slit his throat, and immediately panic arose, and Glenn started panicking beside him. This continued down the line until it got to Glenn, and Daryl felt the dread building and building in his stomach, watching the blood run through the trough. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Glenn's hair got pulled back, and Daryl could tell the younger man was already apologising to Maggie in his head. The first butcher raised the bat above his head but was stopped when the leader, Gareth walked through.

"Hey, guys, what were your shot counts?" He asked, looking up from the clipboard in his hand. The first guy answered almost instantly with "38" but the guy with the knife hesitated "Hey! Your shot count"

"Crap, man, I'm sorry. It was my first roundup," He sighed. Daryl had to resist making a face of disgust. How could they discuss these things so casually as if they weren't killing people for food right in front of them?

"After you're done here, go back to your point and count the shells. Kaylee won't be gathering them until tomorrow. Oh, and also, did you both register your reports on that girl who tried to escape the other day?" Gareth questioned, raising an eyebrow. Rick narrowed his eyes at the man, while Bob started wriggling, and making small noises to get his attention. Both butchers gave responses of yes simultaneously "Great."

"What happened to her?" One asked, but Daryl couldn't determine which. Didn't fucking care at this point.

"Kaylee's got her. She's a fighter, I'll give her that. She'll break eventually. Don't worry about it," Gareth shrugged.

God these guys really were another level of asshole. If eating people didn't qualify that enough.

"Hey, let me talk to you for a minute! Let me talk to you for a minute. Let me talk to you for a minute!"Bob exclaimed, muffled through the gag. What the hell was he doing? Gareth turned back with an exasperated sigh, crouching down in front of him and yanking the gag out.

"What?"

"Don't do this. We can fix this," Bob tried to reason.

"No, you can't," Gareth rolled his eyes and moved to put the gag back in Bob's mouth.

"You don't have to do this. We told you there's a way out of all this. You just have to take a chance. We have a man who knows how to stop it. He has a cure. We just have to get him to Washington. You don't have to do this, man. We can put the world back to how it was," Now he was being stupid. Gareth was clearly a psychopath, there was no reasoning with a man like him. Daryl was, however, becoming increasingly aware of how long the guy at the end had been dead. He'd turn soon if they didn't deal with it.

"Can't go back, Bob," Gareth put the gag back in. Bob's eyes widened as he kept begging.

"We can! You don't have to do this!" Gareth rolled his eyes, turning to look at Rick instead. Daryl saw him stiffen, eyes hardening as he looked to the man who threatened his son. Gareth pulled the gag out and Rick held back a snarl, clutching the chunk of wood tighter

"We saw you go into the woods with a bag and come out without it. Had to pull my spotters back before we could go look for it. What was in it? You hid it, right? In case things went bad? Smart. Still, we'll find it. But it's too dangerous to go out there right now.," He suddenly grabbed Bob by the back of the neck and held a knife to his eye., but Rick didn't say anything. "What was in it? I'm curious. And it was a big bag. You really gonna let me do this?

"Well, let me take you out there I'll show you," Daryl watched the exchange carefully. Rick had started to go full Shane recently, and Gareth was messing with the wrong fucking guy.

"Not gonna happen. This might," Gareth moved the knife closer to Bob's eye, and he could see him trying not to flinch.

"There's guns in it. AK-47. .44 Magnum. Automatic weapons. Nightscope. There's a compound bow and a machete with a red handle. That's what I'm gonna use to kill you," Rick growled, glaring. The sharpened piece of wood he was holding was starting to make his hand bleed he was holding it so tightly.

Gareth only laughed, putting the gag back in "Thanks," He stood up and began walking back, calling to the two butchers "You have two hours to get them on the driers. I'm gonna go back to public face. Now's the time we can get messy, but we need to dial it all in by sundown."

The butchers nodded, pulling their goggles and gloves back on, but just when they were about to get back to work, they heard gunshots ring out from outside. Gareth looked at the window puzzled before pulling the radio from his side. Glenn's breathing was getting rapid as the panic built back up. One of the butchers raised the bat again slowly.

"Hey, Chuck?" Another gunshot sounded, stopping the butcher. Daryl looked around, meeting Rick's gaze briefly before a loud explosion shook the ground, knocking them to the floor, so Daryl was on the back of Glenn's legs. He could see black smoke through the window, and he already knew that there would be a herd of walkers following through.

"Hey, what the hell was that? Do you copy?"Someone on the radio asked, sounding slightly scared.

"You stay here," Gareth commanded, beginning to walk out.

"Gareth these guys aren't going anywhere-"

"Stay here until I know what's happening!" Gareth screamed, running out. The butchers exchanged a frustrated look, but stayed put, rising from the ground. Daryl and Glenn had started rubbing their wrists together hoping to break the zip ties holding them down, and Glenn let out a noise of pain.

"So we just sit here?" Knife guy asked

"Got a job to do," the Baseball guy replied, nonchalantly. They stood there for a minute, not even noticing Daryl and Glenns escape attempt, but the knife guy started pacing as they heard more and more gunshots. They started bickering. Daryl didn't even fucking care anymore. He had to get out of these restraints and get his family out of this shit hole. But apparently, while the butchers had failed to notice him, he'd failed to notice Rick, as he came behind one of them and stabbed him in the temple, then moved and stabbed the other in the neck. Except he stabbed the guy in the neck over and over and over, showing that Rick style homicidal rage, that stopped Daryl in his tracks. Rick rushed over and used the stake to tear his and Glenn's bindings, eyes frantic. Daryl stood up, tugging the gag from his mouth in relief.

"Sounds like a damn war," He huffed, picking up one of the knives from the table while Rick cut Bob free.

"What the hell are these people?" Bob asked, scrambling to his feet.

"They ain't people," Daryl remarked, and for a split second, his mind flickered to his girl. That was something she'd say. Maybe she'd rubbed off on him. But he couldn't think about that right now. He had to get out. Had to get them out. Bob went to stab one of the butchers in the head but Rick stopped him immediately.

"Don't. Let him turn."

The four men made their way out of the room, further into the slaughterhouse. They entered a room, where there were bodies hung up like animals, dried and headless. Daryl had never been someone with a weak stomach. Hell, all his years of hunting and the apocalypse had stopped that. But seeing the bodies made his stomach churn in disgust. Rick clearly had the same thought in mind.

"You cross any of these people, you kill them. Don't hesitate," He walked further in the room, Daryl following behind. He tucked the machete into his belt and picked up another knife and Rick looked over to him. "They won't."

Gunfire kept roaring from outside, and Daryl used his elbow to break off a chunk of metal from a machine. He didn't even want to know what it did. They reached the door and saw walkers crowded around a container, where some people were screaming for help inside, possibly some of Terminus' other hostages.

"If we run, we can get by them. They're distracted," Rick stated but Glenn shook his head.

"We got to let those people out. That's still who we are. It's got to be," Glenn replied, determined. Daryl didn't take his eyes off the walkers, knife out and ready to kill if he had to. There was a short pause, and Rick nodded, opening the door. All the noise from outside rose to an insane volume and it almost made Daryl's ears ache as he rushed out first, stabbing walkers, the rest of his boys right behind. It turned out the guy in the container was not only a member of Terminus but also absolutely batshit. They didn't have to worry about him long though - a walker took quick care of him, tearing out the muscles of his shoulder, as the guy screamed.

The place was overrun. There were walkers everywhere, and they weren't entirely sure how they were going to get out of this one. Daryl was more focused on keeping Glenn in place so he didn't do anything rash to get back to Maggie. He couldn't blame him. If (Y/N) were in that container still, he'd do something stupid to get back to her. Rick suddenly sprinted off, ignoring the groups' calls of his name. They watched as some of Terminus shot down a bunch of walkers, Rick crouched out of view behind a car. Daryl let out an annoyed growl. The damn fool was gonna get himself killed doing this. So, he followed after him, watching his back as Rick killed one of the Terminus men and stole his gun, using it to shoot walkers and Terminus alike. The walkers were helping to take out some of Terminus, but it was getting too full, and even Rick could see they wouldn't be able to get past all the walkers. He and Daryl ran back to Bob and Glenn, who looked pissed off that he'd run off again.

"We're gonna have to double back."

They made it back to the container their family was in and they pried the doors open. Daryl, Glenn and Bob were watching Rick's back as he instructed everyone, Abraham, Sasha, Michonne, Carl, Tara, Rosita, Eugene and Maggie, out of the box. But the annoying bastards just kept coming and coming. They were running out of time. Out of the corner of his eye, Glenn saw someone fighting a ginger woman. One of Terminus. The other woman was covered in walker's guts, using the disguising trick but he could see (H/C) hair. But he didn't think anything of it. She was probably just another hostage who was taking advantage of the situation. He couldn't worry about her now, he had to worry about his family. Daryl saw Carl and Rick talking for a split second before the chaos resumed, and they were fighting their way out, guts and blood spilling everywhere.

Anywhere you looked, there was a walker or a Terminus person. Daryl was leading, keeping his people safe from the front, and Rick was a the back. They were storming ahead, so so close to the fence. But Rick and Carl were slowing, from exhaustion and panic. Rick heard an awful yell from his son and spun around to see a walker gripping his sleeve and trying to pull his arm to its mouth. Rick went to rush forward, but the walker was suddenly dead, crumbling to the ground. Carls fearful eyes looked over and saw a woman, covered in guts, (H/C) sticking to her face and (E/C) eyes looking at him almost tenderly. Rick ran to his son, and pulled him away, staring the woman down. But she only narrowed her eyes and yelled "Go!" before disappearing into the crowd of walkers. Within seconds, she was gone. They didn't have time to dwell on it now. Gareth and the few members of Terminus that remained started shooting at them from the rooftop. They rushed through the rest of the walkers, ducking bullets and stabbing walkers and met their group at the fence. Daryl climbed over first, then Abraham lifted Eugene over, then Carl and the rest of the group, leaving himself for last.

When they were back at the bag, Daryl crouched down, taking a deep breath. Shit, that was way too close. They'd gotten lucky. Whoever had caused an explosion had saved their damn lives. And he didn't even know who it was. Maybe one of the idiots at Terminus had fucked something up and caused it. Or maybe someone was looking out for them. Hell if he knew. Hell if he cared anymore. His family was safe and that's all the mattered now. Rick started digging out the guns, mumbling out a plan as the rest of the group caught their breath, letting what just happened finally sink in. That is until Rick started talking about back to Terminus. They'd barely gotten out the first time! Some of the group started arguing back, but Daryl didn't give a shit anymore. He just leant against a tree, watching, listening.

A rustle of branches made him turn around and he froze, as the rest of the group did. They stared wide-eyed as Carol came out of the trees. They watched in amazement as Daryl sprinted over and dragged her into a tight hug, grasping onto her desperately and lifting her off her feet. She laughed lightly, grinning when he pulled back. Holy shit. She was alive. She was alive. She'd saved them. If anyone saw the tears running down his cheeks, no one said anything.

Daryl's feet were aching. The roads seemed to stretch on for miles. But the pain in his feet was nothing compared to the anger and undealt with grief. The losses were building up and up and he didn't know how much more he could take. Half the camp, Sophia, Dale, Shane (but no one really missed him), Patricia and Jimmy (though admittedly he didn't know them that well), Lori, T-Dog, Merle, Andrea, almost everyone who'd come to stay at the prison, Hershel, Bob, Tyreese... Beth. The only thing he was holding out hope for was his girl. Her ma lived in South Carolina, and with them being en route to Washington, he had to pray that maybe she made her way up there. Carl, Little Ass-Kicker and the hope of his girl were the only things keeping him going.

He'd started losing hope in his girl. Beth had died, and he'd been right fucking there. He was a hundred and more miles away from (Y/N). Now, she was strong, but he doubted she could live in a world like this. It'd destroy her. While he wanted to hold out hope and go looking for her, where would he even start? She could be anywhere by now, and there's no guarantee he'd even find her. An awful part of him wished she was dead. A disgusting, horrifying part of him, deep deep down, hoped she was dead so she didn't have to live a life like this. Didn't have to suffer like this. Deep down, Daryl knew she would hate the person he'd become. Probably hate him for what happened to Merle, too. He couldn't face that. He couldn't. Carol could see the way his eyes had drained. She could see what was happening. She was exhausted and hungry, but she wasn't blind.

She'd been hovering. Watching over him like a damn mother hen. He was getting sick and fucking tired of her constant gaze. He knew she only wanted what was best but god if he wasn't getting frustrated. Daryl could practically hear his girl's voice in his head, lecturing him about not being so cold to her, since Carol had done everything to protect him, and was his best friend. He snorted quietly at the thought of his girl standing there lecturing him, and being worried more about him and Carol than finding supplies. Sounded like her.

It was quiet now. No one spoke unless they had to. They were too weak. They hadn't had proper food in months, living off the little amount of food Daryl could hunt down, and the water was so scarce, some people were starting to get dizzy. Most of the food and water went to Judith and Carl now anyway. Everyone was hoping. Some, for the few that still believed in that shit, were even praying that we'd get some rain. But apparently, someone had seen them first and left them some water. Daryl and Rick eyed it suspiciously. Nowadays you could never be too careful. Abraham was still angry, but that wasn't anything new. That man was filled with more rage than anyone Daryl had ever met, except perhaps Merle. Shit, he missed that son of a bitch. Abraham was so angry that he smacked the bottle out of Eugene's hands when he went to take a sip. The atmosphere bristled, and Daryl could already tell an argument was about to start, and he shook his head, readjusting the bag and his crossbow. But it was all cut short when there were a few claps of thunder. Everyone looked up, hopeful glances being exchanged when the skies opened, and rain began pouring. Tara and Rosita started laughing, lying down on the floor, and some people opened their mouths to drink it before Rick ordered people to get out any bottles they had and filling them with the water. Daryl couldn't smile. He couldn't find enjoyment in it, and by the looks of it, neither could Sasha or Maggie. Every day it got harder or harder to meet her eyes. There was no blame on him, so he had no reason for guilt, but he couldn't help it. And it was eating away at him. Had been for the past three weeks.

The group were sat around a tiny fire, lightning flashing every so often and illuminating the room. Maggie was laying alone on the opposite end of the barn, and Carl was curled up behind Rick, clutching Judith to his chest. Carol walked over and plopped herself next to Daryl. Glenn was sat on his other side, engaging in an entirely different conversation. Daryl gave her a glance. She was staring at him, eyes narrowed like she was trying to read his mind, and it was starting to freak him out.

"You can't give up on her," Carol muttered, after a long moment of her staring him down. He scoffed, looking away. The hell did she know anyway. "You haven't given up yet, why give up now?"

"It's been nearly two years Carol. She's probably dead by now," He grumbled, watching the glint of his ring in the light of the fire. She shoved him lightly, her eyes moving to a glare.

"Don't talk like that," She snapped, quietly. Daryl kept his eyes on his ring, but he could feel the irritation starting to radiate off her. "You still wear your ring. You still carry that recorder. You've nearly broken a man's arm to get it back for god's sake. You can't give up on her. I won't let you."

For some reason, that got under his skin, and he could feel anger pouring in. It bubbled and boiled and his cold stare fixed on her so suddenly that Carol almost jumped.

"The hell ya gonna do to stop me?" He snarled. She didn't know shit about (Y/N) who the fuck was she to talk about his girl "You've never even met her. Ya don't know what she's like."

"No, I don't, but I know how much you love her. How much you're relying on her. And I can see how guilty you feel about Beth," Daryl was glaring now, and Carol understood she was walking into dangerous territory. "It wasn't your fault. There was nothing you could have done. But you can't start separating yourself from us, from (Y/N). You'll get yourself killed."

"What do you care? I ain't your responsibility," He growled before picking up his crossbow before walking to a corner of the barn. Carol watched him leave and made no move to stop him. Glenn gave her an alarmed look, only having heard the tail end of the conversation. Who the hell was (Y/N)? Carol shook her head, telling him not to push it and he reluctantly looked back to the others, who were still deep in conversation. She then noticed the little recorder where Daryl had been sitting. It had a few chips, and it was dirty as hell, but Daryl had gone through hell to keep it safe. Carol picked it up and spun it in her hands, before opening Daryl's bag, wrapping it in a bit of cloth and tucking it away.

How they'd managed to convince Rick, he had no idea. Though, in honesty, Daryl thought he would have jumped at the opportunity to be somewhere where Carl and Judith would be safe. But after Terminus, he couldn't blame the man for being sceptical. This guy, Aaron, there was something off about him. He couldn't put his finger on what. Either way, part of him was relieved to be out of that damn barn. Stunk of horse shit. But getting holed up in a car service place tucked into a wall with a guy with a broken ankle, wasn't exactly that much better. Daryl's family was safe. Rick's family was safe. That's what mattered. When dawn rolled around, he was startled to find himself actually hoping for this place to work. They didn't have many other choices if it didn't. They couldn't have another Terminus situation. They were all piled into the small RV and an even smaller car, and it was definitely too close quarters for Daryl to be comfortable. As usual, it went to shit when the battery went flat. Glenn was quick to use the skills that Dale had taught him to fix it up, but Daryl had taken refuge on the roof, looking out for walkers. He could feel Carol and Glenn's eyes on his back. He'd much prefer it if that could just fuck off rather than giving those annoying ass pity looks.

When they pulled up, they heard a noise they hadn't heard in a long time. Children laughing. It felt almost alien to them, and maybe this place could work out. There were no kids at Terminus. Barely any at Woodbury. If kids were having fun here, maybe they had a chance. Collectively, the group sucked in a breath as the gate started to pull back. When it opened, a ton of pristine houses were revealed down long roads, children running in the street. Aaron helped Eric limp inside and someone took him and started leading him off, presumably to the infirmary. A bristle in the bushes made the group snap over, and Daryl didn't hesitate on pressing the trigger and picking up the possum, presenting it to the man behind the gate.

"We brought dinner!"He declared, and he heard some of the group stifle chuckles and smiles. The man behind the gate looked at them warily.

"It's okay, Nicholas," Aaron reassured, placing his hand out "C'mon in guys."

Gradually, the group started wandering in, Glenn and Daryl in the lead, as Rick held Judith tightly.

"Before we take this any further, I need you all the hand over your weapons," Nicholas stated, eyeing Daryl carefully, who still held the possums tail "Stay, you hand them over."

"We don't know if we want to stay," Rick responded instantly, somehow still looking threatening even with a baby at his hip "If we were gonna use them, we would have started already."

"Let them talk to Deanna, first," Aaron turned his head to Nicholas but was turned back by Abraham, who had his shoulders squared.

"Who's Deanna?"

"She knows everything you wanna know about this place. Rick, why don't you start?" Aaron advised, and Rick tilted his head. Daryl observed him, noticing the suspicion behind his eyes. Rick turned around at the sound of a walker snarling and signalled Sasha to take care of it. Headshot. Daryl tried to hide his smirk and the astounded look on Nicholas' face. Guy seemed like a jackass. He wanted to keep his eye on him.

The group were forced to sit outside on someone's porch (a house! what the fuck) while Rick was lead inside by a short, blonde-haired woman. She seemed innocent but she was hiding something. Daryl and Michonne could see it. In the way she held herself, the way she talked, the way she looked at them. When Rick came out about fifteen minutes later, Daryl was next to go in. He was still holding the possum, crossbow on his back as he was lead into the living room. It was nice. Untouched, as if the world hadn't ended outside the gates. He hadn't been in somewhere like this since before the apocalypse. Since (Y/N). He kept messing with random shit he could find. Pacing, restlessly. Deanna just sat on the couch opposite, her eyes following where he went. Acting like a damn hawk. She already pissed him off, and she hadn't even done anything. There was a video camera set up, recording everything. He had to thank Carol later for putting his back in his bag.

"You're welcome to sit, Daryl. I won't bite," Deanna finally said, and he looked up at her through long greasy hair, frowning.

"Yeah, I'm alrigh'" He replied quietly, turning to look at the bookshelf behind him. He didn't really know what he was doing, he just didn't want to have this awkward conversation and was trying to avoid it as long as possible.

"Daryl, do you want to be here?"She questioned, a touch of impatience in her voice but Daryl still didn't look at her.

"The boy and the baby. They deserve a roof. I guess," He answered, turning his ring with his thumb as it dangled by his side. Apparently, she didn't miss the motion.

"You're married?"

"Does it matter?" He shot back, voice becoming icy and there was a glimmer of amusement in her eyes.

"You'd be surprised," Deana smiled slightly and he glared back at her, his suspicion only raising further.

"The hell does that mean?" Daryl challenged, getting closer. She shook her head, smile dropping, before standing up and moving to turn the video recorder off.

"You're free to go."

"You okay?" Carl asked, making Daryl jump a little as he appeared at his side. Daryl knocked the brim of his hat, making Carl chuckle.

"That woman asks some weird questions," Was his reply, before he sat down, waiting for the others to finish their 'interviews'.

Rick looked between the two houses in amazement. He and Carl had left after Carl had finished talking, trusting Glenn and Maggie to look after his daughter. Aaron has whisked the pair away presenting them with the two houses they were giving the large group. He'd since walked away, walking down the road towards his house to look for Eric. Rick looked at his son, who had a grin on his face at the promise of being in a house again. Carl looked out after Aaron. A woman, maybe a little younger than Rick rushed out as Aaron neared, and wrapped her arms around him. Even from the distance, he could see the relief on her face and Aaron laughed lightly before leading her back inside. He was sure he'd find out who that was later.

Rick had insisted on staying in one house for the time being, just for safety, but Daryl wasn't complaining. He'd rather his family be together if they couldn't have their weapons. He felt almost naked without his crossbow. And he'd made very good work of pretending not to see Carl's knife. Smart kid. Daryl was sat next to Little Ass Kickers crib, peering over it protectively as Michonne came back through from the bathroom. She and Rick exchanged a hushed conversation when a knock at the door sounded, and Deanna walked in. She started talking but paused when she saw everyone huddled together rather than being separated. She gave some bullshit speech on family and how amazing it was, and Daryl rolled his eyes. He couldn't help it.

"Everybody said you gave them jobs," Rick said, but it sounded more like a question and Deana made a hum of agreement.

"It's part of this place. Looks like the Communists won after all," God if someone didn't put a bolt through her brain soon Daryl swore to whatever was up there he would. Rick gave a polite smile but it was strained.

"Well, you didn't give me one," He stated

"I have. I just haven't told you yet. Same with Michonne. I'm closing in on something for Sasha. And I'm just trying to figure Mr Dixon out, but I will," Daryl scoffed at that. Yeah, it took his group two years and they still haven't. Good luck with that. Deanna gave Daryl a smile, but it felt condescending. She looked back up at Rick "You look good."

And she was gone.

The group took off the next morning, going to explore, but Daryl stayed on the porch. Rick exited, raising his eyebrows at the redneck.

"They said explore. Let's explore," He almost commanded but he was smiling. First time in a long time.

"Naw, I'll stay," Daryl said, shifting. Deanna had dropped by earlier this morning and handed him his crossbow. He was still extremely confused as to why but he sure as hell wasn't going to complain about it. Rick sighed, closing the door behind him.

"C'mon brother. Just come with us for a few minutes. Then you can come back here and brood all you like. Just pretend for a few minutes," Rick teased. Daryl scowled but Rick could see the playfulness in his eyes. It was nice, seeing Daryl slightly more at ease even if he was struggling to settle.

There was a long pause before Daryl gave a grunt of agreement, grudgingly picking up his crossbow and shoving it on his back. The pair jogged to catch up with the others, soon falling into the crowd of their family. They saw Aaron coming out of his house and Maggie raised a hand in a small greeting. He stepped over and the group started chatting. Daryl could tell the recruiter was hoping to clear the water a little bit. He didn't seem like a bad guy but Daryl couldn't let his guard down. But then someone followed out of Aaron's house, walking out onto the road and looking over to the family with a gleeful smile. Carl waved at her, recognising her from yesterday and she waved back. But the smile dropped, and Daryl froze in place like a statue. Carol noticed how stiff he'd gone beside her and followed his eyes and she froze too. A small smile climbed onto her lips. He couldn't breathe. He could hardly believe what he was seeing. He had to be dreaming. This couldn't be real.

"Daryl?"

But it was, she was right there. (H/C) hair blowing in the slight breeze and her eyes sparkling with building tears. Holy shit.

(Y/N).

His (Y/N).

Carol watched as the crossbow fell from his shoulder and Daryl shoved past his group and sprinted. He didn't think he'd moved so fast in his whole damn life because he blinked and all of a sudden, she was stood right before her. She stood there, taking him in. He couldn't breathe. She was there. She was right there. And he lunged for her, pulling her into him tightly, and placing a hand on the back of her head protectively. He could feel her fingers digging into his skin through his jacket, and he knew he couldn't let her go even if he wanted to. She was alive. She was here! Daryl wasn't a crier, that was for sure, but hell, he couldn't stop the relieved sobs he was letting out into her neck. She was whispering to him, though a trembling voice, but he couldn't hear what she was saying. He just felt her, her breath on his neck, his fingers on his back, her hair tickling his nose, her tears on his chest.

"Holy shit, "Was all he could get out, and (Y/N) let out a weepy laugh, pulling back just enough so she could see his face. Her hands moved to hold his face, running her thumbs over his cheeks.

"If you haven't brushed your teeth, I am going to kill you, Dixon," she grinned, before pulling him into a hard kiss. He held onto her, even as the outside world started coming back to him. As he heard the confused voices of his family and Aaron. As he heard the joyful, but the slightly teary voice of Carol.

He just held onto her.

TAGS: OPEN

Tags (for this series): @graniairish @fuseburner @gloomystorm @bxxbxy @browneyes528 @hoemadegrace​

[lassieposting]

4 Times Lucifer Showed He Cared The Demon Way (And Thought Chloe Reciprocated) +1 Time He Tried Showing It The Human Way

AIT BUCKLE UP YALL BC IMMA GET ON SOME BULLSHIT 

prepare for a mess of a headcanon post in which i extrapolate wildly from single lines in the show, read way too much into interactions, and get very emotional

actual post under the cut because this is long as fuck, yo

1. Sharing Territory

Trust is the rarest commodity in Hell. Demons are aggressive, suspicious and territorial by nature, and taught from birth that you’re just as likely to be killed in a fight with someone from your own clan as you are to be cut down in a war with someone else’s. Maze recalls her siblings torturing one another, possibly for fun, and even among family there seems to be a certain level of wariness. Finding someone you can trust to share your space, someone who will keep watch while you rest, someone you don’t have to be so guarded around, is rare and precious and a big expression of real affection.  

In 1x02 Lucifer lets himself into Chloe’s home while she’s in the shower, makes himself at home, and starts making her breakfast. 

Now, Lucifer knows how door etiquette works. We’ve seen him learn about this, more than once. 

In 1x03, he barges into Linda’s office, interrupting another patient’s session, but in 1x08 he knocks on her door and waits for her to call him in. 

In 1x07 we see him ring Carmen’s doorbell and wait for him to answer, despite having a far better reason to barge in and wreak havoc (reclaiming his stolen wings).  

In 2x01, again, he knocks on the killer’s door and waits for her to answer it. 

So, this isn’t a case of “he’s not human, he doesn’t understand”. He only does this with Chloe. And it’s something he does repeatedly, even after he’s learned his lesson about knocking with everyone else - coming into her territory and leaving her, her family and all her things unharmed, showing her that he’s relaxed and comfortable in her space. And he gets the reaction he wants! She’s alarmed the first time she finds him in her kitchen, but as time goes by she gets used to it, accepts it as just one of his weird quirks, and no longer really bats an eyelid. By 3x05 she’s not even surprised to see him; she still ticks him off - “I said to meet me here, not barge in like you own the place.” - but it’s almost like she’s just saying it out of habit at this point. She’s not threatened by him at all. 

                                                               ~

We don’t know when Lucifer invites her to treat his penthouse the same way, but by the time she shows up drunk and trying to sleep with him in 1x10, he’s told her that “[his] door is always open”, an invitation to do the same. And she does (and has been doing already). Chloe is spectacularly comfortable appropriating Lucifer’s things. 

In 1x09 when they’re dueting Heart & Soul she lets herself in unexpectedly and takes a drink from his glass while they’re playing (and here you can see him raise his eyebrows and smile at her, but he doesn’t comment). 

In 1x10, she’s clearly intending to stay in his penthouse even after he tells her he was planning on going out, and she helps herself to his alcohol.

In 3x06 she’s comfortable enough with him to raid his closet, take over his home without his knowledge, try to break into his safe and sleep in his bed. 

2. Hunting For Your Partner

Humans don't regularly hunt for their own food, but demons do - Maze asks Trixie in S4 at what age human parents teach their children to hunt, presumably because it’s a responsibility she intends to take on for baby Charlie. Now, to survive in a place like Hell, prey animals would need to be in possession of some hardcore natural defences; demons most likely can and do die in hunts. So providing someone with food would be a big deal; it shows how highly you prize that person’s wellbeing, that you’re willing to put yourself at risk and expend valuable effort and energy to keep them fed. 

Lucifer tries to make Chloe breakfast in 1x04. This is the first time we really see him do anything domestic, and it’s implied he’s actually pretty handy in the kitchen - possibly because he just likes human food, but also the time and effort he’ll spend making her a proper home-cooked meal is the closest he’s going to get to hunting something the size of a small airplane for her in Hell. 

                                                                  ~

Later, in 2x07, Chloe makes Lucifer and Trixie sandwiches. She goes to give Trixie the first one, because for humans it’s normal to feed your kid first, but Lucifer swipes it off the plate before Trixie can, claiming he’s “far larger and hungrier”, because in Hell the strongest and most vicious eat first (as with many pack predators). 

Lucifer later asks Linda what deep meaning the sandwich had - whether it symbolised Chloe’s trust - and seems bewildered that for humans, a sandwich can just be a sandwich. He also brings her homecooked food as an apology after standing her up, all of which seems to imply that Lucifer grew up in a culture where food is valuable and meaningful and an expression of deeper feeling. (This could also be seen to a lesser extent in Maze wanting Lucifer to make her a drink in 2x04, when she’s trying to redefine their relationship as equals rather than lord and vassal.)

3. Fighting Together

Demons do have a concept of loyalty. Maze says “You don’t let your girl go into enemy territory alone”, and it seems to be a principle that’s important enough to her that she’s including it in Trixie’s training - when Maze is going to Canada, Trixie tries to hide in her bag because Maze needs someone to watch her back. Maze and Lucifer are also incredibly loyal to one another in the grand scheme of things - regardless of their issues with one another, they are a united front against outside threats, at least before they both start developing human relationships. 

Lucifer is startlingly loyal to Chloe from the get-go, for someone who’s spent billions of years not being able to trust or lean on anyone except Maze. 

In 1x02, he stops chasing after Josh as soon as he realises Chloe has been mobbed by paparazzi, choosing instead to go back and defend her - even though this lets Josh, who needs punishing, get away. 

Now, in 4x01 Maze says that she (and probably demons in general) fight when they’re “Happy...or horny”, implying that fighting may be as much a bonding activity as a necessity. 

With the paparazzi mob, Lucifer goes in all guns blazing, making it personal - “Back off, you mouth-breathing scum!” - because he’s protecting her, trying to deflect their attention from her. But as soon as he notices she’s holding her own, with her fist raised to hit the guy, he gets all excited and encourages her to go ahead: “Let’s punch them all!”

He now sees this as an opportunity to bond with her, show her she can trust him to watch her back, and when she declines to start a fight he’s visibly disappointed.  

                                                                 ~

Chloe then joins the illegal Lux party in 2x09. 

Now, she’s spent most of the episode being sensible and rational about the fact that really there’s not a lot she can do, which was understandably upsetting to Lucifer - it’s the first time he’s really seen his detective not be able to fix a situation. He goes to her repeatedly for help throughout the episode - he either hasn’t realised or doesn’t want to accept that the law has her powerless here - and sees it more as “her not being on his side” than “her not actually having any power over this situation”. 

Her joining his sit-in reaffirms to him that he matters to her; that she has his back even though she has no personal stake in keeping Lux’s building from being demolished. This is all the more poignant for him because he’s very vulnerable at this point; he’s not just on the verge of losing his home, he’s also dealing with his mom’s manipulation and abuse, his own emerging human emotions, the new distance in his relationship with Maze. He believed he was completely alone in this. Chloe’s public show of support means a lot to him, and he even talks to Linda about how insanely grand a gesture Chloe’s saving Lux is to him - he’s never been given something without strings attached, without having to give something in return. 

4. Your Enemies Are My Enemies

Making enemies in Hell can be lethal. Retaliation for a small slight can turn vicious in an eyeblink and generally it's not a good idea to get involved in someone else's grudges if you want to avoid a knife in your back. Adopting someone’s enemies as your own enemies, defending them against said enemies, inserting yourself into their preexisting quarrels as backup, is a big show of loyalty. 

Lucifer is always getting in on Chloe’s arguments. Constantly. 

From what we’ve seen and heard, Lucifer’s family isn’t big on backup. We’ve only got Lucifer’s word, and he’s very biased, so he’s not the most reliable narrator, but we can see it in the way Mum and Amenadiel behave. 

When Lucifer is rowing with his mom in 2x08, Amenadiel doesn’t intervene at all. He’s already said that he’s on his mom’s side at this point, but he doesn’t defend her, either; he avoids the confrontation altogether. 

Lucifer says that none of his family defended him when he was thrown out of Heaven, repeatedly, and with increasing bitterness the more he realises that the way his family treated him is a) abnormal and b) abusive. 

Early Lucifer seems to have picked up this trait. He doesn’t involve himself in arguments unless he’s getting something out of it; when Maze and Amenadiel are about to throw down in 3x11, he literally sits back to watch with popcorn, despite knowing that this fight could go very badly for Maze. 

With Chloe though, he starts jumping in from Actual Day One. 

When Dan is gaslighting Chloe in 1x01, he stands up for her immediately: “She is smart. You’re the dimwit.”

Then he punches out Paolucci for calling Chloe a bitch in 1x05. Chloe tells him not to, that she can handle her own problems, and Lucifer not only tells her that she absolutely can but also clarifies to Paolucci before punching him that he’s not sticking up for Chloe. But the message is pretty obvious all the same: if you have a problem with her, I have a problem with you. 

                                                              ~

Chloe then refuses to call him a liar at Perry Smith’s trial in 2x10.

There is no one - not one single person - in Lucifer’s life who hasn’t betrayed him when it mattered. Even Maze, his oldest friend and closest confidante, goes behind his back in S1 to get them both sent back to Hell against Lucifer’s wishes. 

Calling him a liar would benefit Chloe. She has a vested interest in getting her father’s killer convicted. She’s been offered the guy’s own lawyer’s help in getting a guilty verdict, if she humiliates Lucifer. 

Anyone else in his life would absolutely take those terms. 

But she not only refuses to turn on him, she tells an entire room full of people that he never lies, that he’s the best partner she has ever had, and that a) she knows she can rely on him and b) she wants him to know he can rely on her. 

There’s an added layer of meaning in that the person she’s taking on is Charlotte. Chloe doesn’t know that she’s Lucifer’s mom, or what she’s really capable of, but Charlotte herself (without Goddess attached) has a reputation for being ruthless, surrounded by shady people, and an absolute shark in the courtroom. Having Charlotte defending him vastly increases Perry’s chances of getting away with murdering Chloe’s dad. It goes against Chloe’s own interests to defend Lucifer. 

But she does anyway.  

+1. Spawn Care

This one is...pretty much pure headcanon, but two things are clear from canon: 

1. If Maze’s family is typical for demons, their family bonds are neither close nor particularly affectionate, but

2. They do/are meant to have some input in raising their children - Maze talks about teaching young to hunt as a parental/family responsibility. 

Lucifer becomes a major adult in Trixie’s life by default thanks to his relationship with Chloe, but despite his intense dislike of children in general, he actually tries really hard to be good at it. 

Lucifer doesn’t have a model of good parental behaviour to draw on. Chloe is the first competent, loving parent he’s spent any large amount of time with. What he has is an eternity’s worth of child abuse, gaslighting, manipulation and scapegoating by his own family. But if you look at how he treats Trixie, he puts a lot of effort into not just tolerating Trixie for Chloe’s sake, but being a good influence - or, what he considers a good influence - and a third parent-type figure for her. 

In 1x01, he intervenes immediately when he notices Trixie’s distressed by Dan and Chloe arguing in front of her. It comes across as a throwaway comment, but it seamlessly breaks up their hostility by redirecting Dan’s attention and deflecting the shot he takes at Lucifer. 

In the same episode, he also takes enough of a liking to Trixie (or Chloe) that he takes it upon himself to scare the bejeezus out of her bully, even though the kid is like 12 and has not done anything as heinous as the shit that normally makes him show suspects his eyes/face. 

In 2x02, he spends a large part of the episode arguing on Trixie’s behalf that Chloe should get her the doll, to the point of telling Chloe she’s being a bad parent. Which would be a really petty and honestly irrelevant hill to die on, except that Lucifer’s own upbringing was horrific and he honestly believes she’s somehow damaging Trixie emotionally here. He doesn’t want her to end up with the kind of issues he has. He’s genuinely trying to advocate for her. And when Chloe doesn’t listen to him, he buys the damn doll himself and tells Chloe she can say it’s from her, because he’s very invested in a) Trixie’s wellbeing and b) Chloe’s being a good mother. 

In the 2x07 sandwich scene, he actually seems disappointed that Trixie doesn’t challenge him over stealing her sandwich - he even asks Chloe is she always like this, like her generosity is a fault. My personal headcanon is that demon spawn would’ve done exactly that - he’s not exactly family, but he’s close enough that he’s a safe bet to practice one’s intimidation skills on, because he’d never really harm Trixie. He’s trying to teach her something, something he knows she won’t learn from her human parents. Maze contributes to raising Trixie by teaching her to fight (and babysitting) and Lucifer is doing the same, trying to pass on what he considers a useful life skill - something that has probably helped keep him alive in Hell for billions of years. When Trixie leaps off her stool and runs at him, his flinch/hands raised/ “GAH!” reaction looks overdramatic even for him; maybe if she hadn’t given him five and raced off, he might have handed over the sandwich and considered it lesson learned.

And in 2x15, he offers her driving lessons in exchange for her playing along with his trip to the school, which says a lot about how much he really likes her: he intends to teach her himself, and in his own car. The Corvette. His baby. Lucifer does all sorts of shady shit through his favours; finding someone to safely teach an eight year old to drive should be easy! 

(Also, honorable mention for him hulking the fuck out when Tiernan’s gunmen threaten Trixie and Eve in his penthouse. Was there any need to shatter his own wall? Probably not. Did he do it anyway? Absolutely. Because children are hideous little creatures but that one is his hideous little creature.)

In conclusion: Lucifer is not remotely subtle about his feelings, Maze feels highkey sick watching them interact Ever, and Chloe’s thing with Pierce throws him so off guard partly because they’ve been in the Hell equivalent of A Relationship for like three years. 

[gooddadstan]

Fuzzy Walls and Tired Eyes

I wrote something, and people didn't hate it so what a way to start off than crossposting to tumblr?

Everything was going to be okay. He’d made a will, sent the company back to Bruce, tried to make sure they’d be able to understand his case notes, and did his damndest to let them know that it wasn’t any of their faults and he loved them. He was the only one to not die yet, after all, and statistics just spoke the cold truth. He was going to be next, and he’d prepared for it. So yeah, Tim was pretty sure that everything was going to be just fine. Maybe he hadn’t anticipated it happening like this, but c’est la vie, sometimes you’ve just gotta take what life chucks at you and run with it.

With that preparedness and peace of mind, the actions he’s taking feels like nothing more than an aimless ritual than a fight for life. Turn on the emergency tracker, take the bandages from his belt and start trying to patch up what he can, activate the comm and ask for backup. None of them would make it in time, anyway. He’d been watching as they fanned out, just blips on his GPS screen as they forge on with the search for the Joker that Red Robin had abandoned for taking care of the drug case he’d hyperfocused on over the last couple of days. Every one of the bats was too far away, and even the newbie Signal was out and about in the darkness.

But maybe if he’d left the drug case for another week or two just to catch the Joker and come back, he wouldn’t be bleeding out in an empty warehouse on the pier. Maybe if he’d only thought to bring his phone with him he’d be able to call Bart or Kon and the voice he couldn’t raise above a whisper would be enough to bring him back to the cave. Maybe if he’d asked Babs to stay by the computer that night instead of letting her rest while nursing her case of the flu, citing worry over the Joker search instead of his own agenda. He’s sure she’d know what he’d been up to anyway. Maybe if he’d let Alfred stay in the usual schedule instead of being a part of the mob convincing the clearly overworked man to take a vacation, he’d be able to call for the caring butler and the familiar sight of the Batmobile rolling to a stop outside wouldn’t only be a projection on behalf of his exhausted mind, and the almost laughable visage of the cowl still leaving a mustache visible above the suit so finely pressed and painfully out of the ordinary in the dirty streets would be by his side muttering assurances instead of staring ominously in typical hallucination-showing-your-worst-fears fashion. Maybe if they’d actually gone through with calling Alfred back after the Joker broke out of Arkham instead of forcing him to keep relaxing wherever in Europe he was at the time without knowledge of the situation, he would’ve been sitting with a cup of coffee next to Alfred’s tea, having been convinced by a short mention of being lonely left at the computer watching the comms alone.

Maybe there had been so many ways to avoid this, and not have to subject the others to his rambling notes and ill-articulated theories as they take over his cases, but he’d been too incompetent to see them. Maybe he should at least try to get back to the cave and into the medbay, not make them go through the effort to retrieve his body to keep some random thug from unmasking him and placing suspicion on his family. Maybe he should’ve been more careful, gotten rid of his blood on the scene, confiscated the knives and guns fired and stabbed at him, not have been so sloppy in his form with the takedown.

It’s a bit too late for that now, though.

The drugs were blown up, the police were likely on-scene arresting the goons by now, and the gangs that instigated the bust in the first place were too small to not be terribly crippled by the loss. Their promise in rising through the ranks was at least put off long enough for the Bats to attend to the more ‘super’ of their enemies in Gotham for a while. His family would take over his remaining cases, likely finishing them faster than Tim himself would’ve been able to. He had enough reason to be okay with this situation in the end. His own fuck-ups aside, he’d gotten done what he needed to. He swore, by this logic, that his family would be just as well if not better off because of the way the bust ended up.

So who’s going to care if what bandages he does apply are a bit too haphazard to be effective, if he doesn’t repeat his request for backup with his current location after what he’s pretty sure is five minutes passes and protocol says he should. Who’s going to care if in the end he’s not really helping himself. If any of them cared any more than for the necessary hassle of moving and burying his body, creating a false death for his public persona, and going through the motions of mourning the acting CEO of W.E., Timothy Drake-Wayne, for the sake of the rest of their secret identities, maybe they would blame his current carelessness on the blood loss. Maybe they would blame it on what’s probably a major concussion visible from the sheet of pain going from his left temple to his chin. They could even blame it on Tim himself, no injury to buffer it. He could deal with that. After his vision goes black in just a few more minutes, he shouldn’t be able to think and feel things about it anyway. That’s how Jason described it, anyway. Painless and empty and without your own mind really there to interfere.

Though, at this point Tim’s entire body was pained, from the dull aches of sore muscles to the sharp piercing hurt of his assorted knife and gunshot wounds. As much as he trusted his brother, he wasn’t sure if it was even possible for all of that pain could just cease to exist. He wasn’t sure if the brain could even comprehend what was beyond, if anything really was, or if that comforting nothing Jason had almost seemed wistful for was just the way the human brain tried to fill the gap in comprehensibility that was created after that bomb went off. When had he asked that, anyway? It must’ve been over… oh. A week ago, at most. Not the most convenient time to be dying, he supposed. Too coincidental. It’s not like he’d meant to go out and get killed.

Which was true, wasn’t it? He’d thought he could handle it, and just didn’t want to distract any of the others from the Joker, right? There was no way that he’d done this on purpose, much less subconsciously. Except, he’d known how many people were going to be at the trade tonight. He’d known that there would be less people at smaller ones later on, far less armed and more calculated aggression levels. Less dangerous. He’d known that he’d likely suffer at least some of what Alfred called ‘excessive injury’, but he was okay with that. He’d planned to get out of the situation with maybe a gunshot wound or two at most. Nothing too fatal, he’d had worse and lived through it. There was no way that this was intentional. But he could have asked someone else for help, couldn’t he. He wouldn’t have been able to take Bruce or Jason away from the Joker, of course, maybe not even Damian from the way he growled and made threats as the group left, but asking Duke or Steph to watch his back would probably be feasible with minimal effect on the effectiveness of tonight's search.

So why’d he go out alone again?

Right, yeah, taking out the Joker took priority. The effectiveness of their search would still drop without another person, and whereas his involvement would likely not help at all, the others were imperative for this plan to work. All useful hands on deck, and he could take this alone. He was sure of it. Well, he was sure of it before. He should’ve at least made it back to the cave, no matter how injured he was. He was just being dramatic, his bike’s only a couple blocks away and here he is still only lying here while he’s got two working- two vaguely working- one vaguely working leg. That should be enough to get him to the medbay, right?

The others would only be disappointed in his performance right now, no doubt they’d all have been back in the cave if they’d taken the case, taking a nap after pressing enter on the completed report. Even if they’d gotten the same injuries, which they never would, they’d take care of them more efficiently and wouldn’t even have to take those antibiotics somebody managed to shove down his throat every time he was injured while going on about his lack of a spleen. No wonder he was laying here so pathetically as his comms buzzed in his ear. Wait, his comm is buzzing in his ear. Somebody’s trying to contact him. That’s not right. Did they catch the Joker already? It’d only been maybe a day and a half since the escape, nothing ever happens this quickly. Unless one of the others got hurt in a trap the Joker had placed? God, he knew he should’ve been out there instead, the others shouldn’t have to intercept the Joker’s traps.

Fumbling with the comm in his ear, the familiar click of getting into the channel rings small, smaller than it ever should be, bringing yet another injury to Tim’s attention as the scowl that had formed subconsciously grew deeper.

“-mmy! Timmy you’ve got to answer me, can you hear me?” The surprise that sinks through Tim’s chest isn’t enough to get his drooping eyelids to rise even a centimeter as he hears Di-Nightwing’s, no names in the field, voice echo through his head sharply even with the low volume.

“Nightwing?” It comes out as even less than a whisper, pleading and croaking and so undeniably pained that it sends an overwhelming wave of shame through his soul that hadn’t been there before.

Nightwing, on the other hand, didn’t seem to notice the tone. At least, he didn’t let the likely increased levels of worry about Tim’s wellbeing bleed into his reaction in the slightest if he did, the steady voice still the same hardly panicked steadfast rumble it is in most situations. Tim can’t help but resent that Nightwing had to have perfected maintaining that controlled expression. “Yeah, yeah it’s me, Nightwing. Timmy, Black Bat and I are coming to pick you up and bring you back to the cave. Is your tracker still on you? How badly are you injured?”

They shouldn’t be here, they should keep looking for the Joker, not bothering themselves with coming back here, go save more lives! Come on, you stupid mouth, object to this, do something! His grumble of frustration doesn’t even make it past his lungs, a noise so pitiful it could barely even be considered a cough bursting from his lips instead as his entire body still managed to shake and scream against the movement. There’s no time to focus on the pain, just report and convince the others that he can get back to the cave himself and they don’t need to leave their mission. Make them believe that he’d hit his emergency tracker on accident, and had been doing recon in this warehouse without realizing it was even on.

As Tim tried to angle his head so he could assess his injuries in a way that would be remotely coherent as well as significantly more non-lethal than they actually are, didn’t he do that before he got here, the swaying support beam in his line of sight caught his attention. Heh, it looks like that one thing on the internet where- no, wait, that’s not something support beams are supposed to do. That’s fairly concerning, seeing as the entire warehouse is in danger of falling on top of him should his eyes not be betraying him. Trying to form at least another word, at least mentioning the concussion so they wouldn’t have to guess on it, maybe even the fact that the building might fall and he’d be on his way out, his tongue stopped feeling like a piece of his body, and more like some weird… meat sausage warm hurty thing. Yeah, that’s what it is. And hold on, no, that’s a muscle that definitely belongs to him and is a part of his body, not some random lump of meat in his mouth. He knew that, he’s always known that. What’s even going on with his brain? Wasn’t he doing something? Why’s he on the ground?

Pushing himself back into a sitting position, he chokes out a groan and lets everything slow the unceasing screech against his entire existence before opening his eyes again.

Hm. That’s mildly concerning.

Now, Tim’s fairly certain that he’s not any kind of expert on warehouse construction, as he usually focuses on infiltration rather than means of building, but giant splotchy pools of red along the walls and floor don’t exactly scream up to code. Looks almost like blood. That isn’t his, right? Was he bleeding? Oh, wait, yeah he is, he very much is. That would probably go along with the absolute agony spreading through every ounce of his being like a nuclear bomb going off on repeat every two seconds. Didn’t he know that? There’s some kind of wacky buzzing in his ear, like a fly managed to get right into his ear canal, and one arm flings up to swat it away for some black cold thing to intercept his hand as it goes backwards into what might as well be an abyss for how much Tim’s spatial awareness is doing its job. Hey, the buzzing’s gone, but now his arm feels like it’s got at least seven nukes going off in it, which seems like it should be a concerning number of nukes.

And oop, walls probably shouldn’t go wildly in and out of that fuzziness, but who’s to say? Technology’s gotten pretty wild since aliens revealed themselves to be a thing, and maybe somebody decided they wanted walls that could morph into fuzzies at any point in time. That’d be kinda cool to have in a house. Wait this isn’t a house, right? He doesn’t think it’s his apartment, he wouldn’t have had the time to install fuzzy walls, and this floor is too hurty to be his own. He would know, he spends a lot of time lying down on it. Why isn’t he home right now? A nap sounds like a good plan right now, but he’s in somebody else’s house. Should he be bleeding on somebody else’s floor? That doesn’t sound good. But something that does sound good? Just closing his eyes and ignoring the alarm in the back of his head screaming at him to get up and do something, whatever that something is, just a little bit quieter than the pain crashing through his body, holding him in a vice of suffering. Yeah, he thinks, I’m gonna… I’m gonna do that.

And around Tim, as his head hits the metal of the warehouse underneath him with a resounding thunk, the world fades to black.

[regressionanxiety]

Dr. No (1964)

I am watching all of the James Bond movies, they are very bad and I love them. These are some of my thoughts as I watch, it’s basically a recap so you know, spoilers...

It starts with some murdering. James Bond is called into work, goes through the waiting room and meets with M.  He gets a new gun because M insists, he’s very proud that under his leadership 00-deaths have gone down. Moneypenny is the best as always.

James Bond arrives in Jamaica and is instantly spotted, of course he is, he is after all, the worst spy. He is looking for a Taxi, but there is a driver waiting for him. Not at all suspicious. Bond makes a phone call. Is being spied on. Then goes to the car, and tells the driver to “just take me for a ride.” I know he’s just stalling, but I will use this line as support for my argument that James Bond is a chaotic bisexual. 

Now Bond points his gun at his driver, questioning him, as he well should. The driver kills himself with cyanide hidden in a cigarette. Bond takes the car and drives to wherever he’s going, dead guy in the back seat. Tells a person when he arrives: “'sergeant, make sure he doesn’t get away.”

He  drinks and puts out snooper traps in his room before he goes out to investigate his case futher. Chatting with some men, being his very best Miss Marple her, non threathening, pleasant conversationalist, even when the topic is grim. He’s directed to a man with a boat, Quarrel, who doesn’t want to talk to Bond and gives him some sass (everyone should give Bond sass) and turns him away. Bond, of course, isn’t deterred and approaches the man just as he’s having a bear. Now he wants to talk, because it’s private. They go into a storage room of some kind. The man has a knife and the guy at the bar (I think), grabs bond from behind. Bond easily throws them both into some neatly stacked (and empty) Red Stripe cartons, product placement or just an attempt to convince us that we’re really in Jamaica right now?

Bond thinks he has the upper hand now, but no! The man from the airport (not the dead driver - this isn’t that kind of movie) with his sunglasses is there, and he has a gun! 

“gently, gently, let’s not get exited” the man says. With those sunglasses it’s hard not to mister. They are talking suits, like real gents. The other guy is CIA, and his name is Felix Leiter. They’re friends now, with drinks (and i’m sure fucking - those sunglasses can only mean one thing). Underneath the mango tree plays.

A woman takes their picture, now they need to get her. They question her a bit, Bond destroys her film, but gives her the camera back, they send her off. She calls them rats and says they’ll be sorry. 

Bond learns about an island Crab Key (?) owned by a Chinese guy, apparently Quarrel and missing guy Strangways went there to collect geological samples. Locals won’t go near it, some have and never came back. They know very little of the man, except that his name is the titular Dr. No.

Bond is exiting a taxi, and the men who dealt with Strangways earlier are back, sneaking around with a gun pointed at Bond, but a car roars by and they miss their chance at an easy assassination.  

Bond is talking to a professor Dent (one of the men he chattet with about Strangways before) about the geological samples from Strangways, he claims to have thrown them away because they weren’t anything. Bond is batting his eyelashes and being his best Miss Marple again. He knows the man is a liar!

Prof. Dent goes straight to a boat to get to Crab Key. These bad guys are really dumb. Anyway; crab key is guarded by men with big guns. 

Very dramatic room. The professor is being berated by a disembodied voice for coming during daylight hours, stricktly forbidden. This still isn’t that kind of movie, but Dr. No is clearly a vampire. There’s a spider in a cage on a table. If guns don’t work on Bond, try spider bites?

Bond is back in his room. Checks his intruder revealers and as expected they have been disturbed. He wants some vodka, throws ice in a glass, opens the bottle, thinks twice, sniffs it, then puts it back down and opens a drawer and pulls out another bottle. Uses this instead. I’m not sure why that bottle would be safer, unopened and sealed somehow?

Ruh roh! Someone feels a little spidey! Bond killed it, his first murder in this film! 

Bond gest a package, finds that the files on Crab Key are missing, sets up a date with a secretary (the stunning miss Taro) he caught eavesdropping. Business as usual. His package was a geiger counter? He checks some samples with his pals Leiter and Quarrel, and yes, they are radioactive. The professor is a liar! Gasp! Who knew! Now they must go to Crab Key, but in the night, after his date. But wait! there’s a note for him at the hotel reception. He calls miss Taro, she wants him to come to her and gives him some directions, a car starts following him, trying to drive him off the road? Oh noe, a crane or something is in the road, what will Bond do? His little car goes under, the bigger car that follows? Not so much, goes over and burns up. 

“How did it happen?” The man who has the crane thing asks. “I think they were on their way to a funeral,” Bond replies.

He finally arrives at Miss Taro’s, shes just out of the shower, drying her hair, while wearing a tight toweldress???? Clearly not expecting him. He kisses her, and she protests. 

The phone rings. She promises to try to keep him there. He really does seem to be a terrible kisser. They fuck. He pretends to want italian food so he calls a taxi, despite getting there by car. She is confused, he kisses her again to distract. Then the car comes, and she’s arrested. She spits in his face, which he deserves. He goes into her house again, creates a scene: pours some drinks, leaves his jacket, puts on a song (underneath the mango tree, again), goes into the bedroom and uses a pillow to make it look like someone is in it. Then he waits.

The professor walks through the door and shoots up the pillow. They have a chat. Bond shoots him. Then meets up with Quarrel to go on to the island. Makes a quip about it being a break from being a clay pigeon, but I somehow I doubt it. Leister is worried offers to go instead, but Bond refuses him. 

Wait, why is bond asleep on the beach? Was that the plan? Did I miss something?

Ah, the bikini. It isn’t a very good one is it? They’re hiding from guards with guns now. Bond promises he’s no threat to this woman, Honey Ryder, but we all know that’s a lie. They must hide, they’ve been spotted on radar. They get shot at, the woman’s boat is ruined so she has to tag along. They sneak up some kind of river I think. Almost get caught, but don’t, hiding under water using reeds as breathing tubes. Honey claims Dr. No killed her father, a marine biologist, who came to Crab Key to never be seen again.

Now she’s telling Bond about how she killed her landlord (who raped her) via spiderbite. It took him a week to die. Bond just pouts at her, probably knows he might have deserved that spiderbite earlier...

The rumored dragon is nearby, and Bond, who knows it isn’t actually a dragon, wants to see it. 

they’re captured, Quarrel is dead, and claimed to be contaminated. Geiger counters going wild! They need to be hosed down. Then they’re put in very nice quater and treated as guests. because why not. They have some coffee, it’s drugged and they pass out. Bond breaks a perfeclty good cup in the process - that brute. A mysterious figure, with shiny latexy gloves takes a look at Bond in bed. Dr. No presumably, he lifts the cover a little before we cut to the next scene. Sean Connery really isn’t that attractive Dr. just kill him already!

I’ve always wanted an evil lair. Finally the elusive Dr. No is revealed. Are you a good Bond villain if you don’t have a physical disability? It appears that he doesn’t have hands, because of errors in his work or something. He finds Bond a worthy adversary or some such. Bond has Honey sent away from the dinner table - ostensibly to save her. Dr. No quickly realizes that Bond is in fact just a policeman, not smart enough to join his criminal gang after all, SPECTRE (Special Executive for Counter-intelligence, Terrorism, Revenge and Extortion) has no need for the likes of Bond, though if they did he’d prefer the revenge department. He is apparently being tortured, we don’t get to see that, but his clothes are ruined when we next see him in a cell he quickly escapes from by going into the pipes that keep this underwater facility with air. He falls down one of them and gets to take his shirt off. Oh no! Water rushes in and Bond must hold on! 

He gets out, finds his way into a radiation suit (stylish, with a very square hood, he looks like a Doctor Who villain in an episode where they ran out of budget) and infiltrates a control room! They’re talking about a vehicle and say the word radiation a lot. Bondis trying to figure out how to sabotage their sabotage (of a rocket launch). Big science words! No time to think for Bond, just punch everyone! Chaos! Alarms blaring, abort abort! 

Bond vs Dr. No. Bond wins and Dr. No goes down in what may be boiling radioactive water? Doesn’t seem like a delicious way to go. Everyone is fleeing the facility, Bond somehow finds Honey and frees her (she’s tied up on some ramp with water coming in, were they going to let the tide drown her? This is not how you kill people effectively). 

Lots of footage of people fleeing, flinging themselves into the ocean etc. Bond and Honey get a boat, the facility goes boooooooooooom! 

The boat runs out of fuel, and Bond and Honey settle in to wait for rescue, Leiter show up and start to give them a tow, but Bond lets the rope go so he and Honey can fuck. Leiter shakes his head and smiles at them in an overbearing manner. 

THE END

[cinaminho]

Stray Mafia: You get Snarky/Sassy with them

Uh ohhhh back again with a flop y'know

╰ Group: Straykids

╰ Genre: comedy

╰ Warnings: Language,, very mild violence ,, some are shorter than others,, not in order

Request:Hi can I please have a skz mafia scenario where you get into an argument and you say something really sassy like or snarky please 💓

BTW: in case you don't know their roles

Chan • Leader,, sets up every mission ,, plans everyone's position ,, always has a backup plan ,, prefers to use a bat//stick because people tend to underestimate those types of weapons,, Chan states "you just gotta know how to use them"

Changbin • Under boss ,, calls shots when Chan isn't present and is the head in negotiating ,, he's also a great sniper

Woojin • in charge of the cartel,, intelligent so you can't mess him over when it comes to supplies,, hand gun/knife/sword master

Minho • Head Spy ,, good in undercover missions,, Teams best non weapon fighter,, great with making poisons (thank you Yuta)

Hyunjin • Weapon suppliier ,, knows how to get military weapons because of connections,, underestimated because he looks innocent,, knows how to use 98% of weapons made

Felix • the interrogator,, his deep voice is intimidating ,, isn't afraid to torture you if he has to just to get the info that is needed

Jisung • Hacker,, tech prince,, might be able to get secrets from the Pentagon to be honest,, hacking skills are as faster than sending and retrieving a text,, he's also good at kidnapping enemies so they can be interrogated

-

Plot - Your Dark World Lover has hit below the bit or caused irritation to you so you get back him the best way you know how which is by being cunning with your words and snappy attitude.

/// .•°*♡

- - -

{ Chan }

"You walk around so high and mighty because you're a leader of your own mafia now which is ironic to me considering your brain isn't even half the size of the bullets you use I bet!"

You spat at your significant other as his back was turned to you, he had cancelled your date night again because of underworld business, he just blew you off without even trying to Reassure you that you could reschedule. Your tone caught his attention as he froze in the middle of tying his Neck tie . He spun slowly on the heels of his dress shoes to you, his normal smile gracing his face as his shoes clicked on the marbel floor your stood your ground crossing one foot infront of the other along with your arms. Once Chan was infront of you he teasingly Bent down to be eye level with you. He grazed his finger under your chin.

"Because I think you're on your monthly, I'll take your snappy attitude that is however the only time I will except it." He spoke before cupping the back of your neck and slowly leaning his lips to your ear.

"There are limits to my patience remember that, My dear."

{Woojin}

He was not having it clearly you must've forgot just how rude Woojin could get so when you gave him a slick remark due to him saying you needed to clean up more which you had , the place was spotless, Woojin was just a neat freak, you figured he was just in a bitch mood.

"Look Y/n just clean up." He frustratedly ordered once more.

"Clean up what Woojin? You know actually tell you what, how 'bout for once YOU clean, start with that dumb ass attitude." You exclaimed.

Woojin looked as if you'd gone mad his before you knew it he was slightly leaning over you as he stood over you who sat on the couch his hands were gripping the Arms of the couch to support himself lightly hovering over you. You were screaming silently, your skin grew hotter as your nerves heightened.

"Don't think I won't lock you away to set you right little girl..You ever talk to me like that again and I'll have you afraid to even speak greetings to anyone."

{Changbin}

You. Fucked. Up. Completely.

Now be no fool, Changbin loved you now that it was known it wouldn't change and as a loving couple of course you two would get into little spats naturally but this one was more heated, words of furious lovers were being threw back and forth, Fury gazes, neither willing to admit defeat, you really were blindsided by your anger you didn't notice until you'd said it, you just had to poke the bear though, right?

"Don't be a bitch okay?" You sarcastically stated.

"The phrase 'it takes one to no one' doesn't nearly fit enough in this situation." He responded matching your clearly sarcasm, you flickered from crazy to insane just like that before you knew it you were attempting to slap him. He grabbed your hand.

You looked between him and the hand that was in his grasp, his face scrunched in a murderous form, evident heavy breathing came from you both, one fear , one livid anger. His teeth were clenched so tightly you were they may break. Soon after silence and anticipation came his next actions. The base of his thumb pressed painfully deep into the palm of your hand adding a bit of his nail as well , you winced loudly as your knees became weak collapsing under you , so , down you went. He wasn't letting up either as he stared at your tortured pained face.

"Mark my words and God as your witness you're clearly out of your Damn mind if you're raising your hand at me, you will only be able to use your feet and mouth to feed you if you pull this bullshit Ever again. I promise."

{Minho}

"Of all the Days in the world you choose the today to go on a mission WHICH MAY I ADD,, you excepted behind my back you selfish son of a--"

"~Easyy there baby tiger, your anger is a weapon while the words are the ammunition." He Cheshirely grinned. Your gaze narrowed you in all honest felt a vain about to pop out of your neck from restraining your urge to strangle him.

"You're a Dick." You said through gritted teeth

Minho's mouth dropped open, he was at a loss for words, soon that changed once he Laughed, he seemigly and genuinely found you hilarious his adorable gummy smile filled with mischief was show cased as he doubled over laughing at you.

Minho glided towards you with his hands behind his back you held your head up high prepared for whatever it was that he has to say, or at least you hoped you were.

His face looked over yours carefully trying to call your bluff. He tilted his head to the side letting out a cute cackle. You hated when he didn't take you seriously.

"You really are the cutest thing when you try to snap back at me, good try , same time tomorrow?" He suggested before walking away leaving you to silently scold yourself. One of these days you'd get under his skin enough.

{Hyunjin}

"So you can locate Foreign weapons but can't locate the dairy aisle in a store? Remarkable."

He was showing some of the latest weapons that he obtained and allowed you to come along you wanted to tease and have a little fun but really you didn't choose the best time to try and make a joke out of him, on purpose of course. He'd had just about enough of your playful banter shenanigans . He excused himself from the group of men who also didn't find your humor amusing to talk to you.

"Y/n I don't think now Is the time to joke." He spoke flatly.

"I'm just joking lighten up."

Hyunjin looked towards the men who were paying attention to his high profile weapon shelf before he turned back to you, he snaked his hand through your hair giving you a soft smile. His soft touch soon became rough as he fisted some of your hair slightly bringing his face inches closer to yours.

"Do I look like I care that you're joking? Now Is not the time to joke I said."

He yanked his hand away from your head , your hand soon reaching to sooth the burn from where he'd pulled it, you were flabbergasted.

{Jisung}

You were literally talking to your friend about him while he was in the next room, he'd asked that you didn't speak about him to your friends for safety purposes , however, you thought he was just overreacting. Seriously what harm could it do? You were going to find out as you paid the price for ignoring his request or your phone would at least.

"This is my Last time requesting this, Y/n, please do not discuss me with your friends." He huffed puffing his cheeks out. You thought he was cute but the reddned hue on his cheeks indicated he was losing his patience. His fist balled at his sides, nails digging in the skin of his own palms.

"Jisung stop being a drama queen." You snickered.

Jisung's eye twitched slightly. "Drama Queen? , noted." He smirked. Before you knew it he Walt's over to you snatching the phone from your grasp not giving you time to question his actions before he savagely smashed it to the ground with a frustrated growl.

You let out a squeak as you stared at the broken electronic devise. Jisung smiled at his dilberate work.

"Oh, and if you ever call me a drama Queen again. There is way more where that came from, m'kay Pumpkin?" He stated before patting your head and walking away.

{Felix}

You were in the middle of a heated discussion and honestly you weren't listening because there was no way in hell you were postponing your wedding because his 'business' could get in the way of that. His words were going in one ear and out of the other.

"Honestly you're wasting not only your words on a useless excuse and my time. For someone who claims to be intelligent you sure sound like a numbskull right now."

Your words were like poisoned darts. You began to exit the room but Felix to big steps to soon be infront of you blocking your exit. He gripped your lower jaw snitching it in his so you had no other choice but to look at him as his grip gradually tightened if you tried to look away, you had to face the demon.

"Don't even think of insulting my intelligence! and This conversation is far from over. So pull up a seat. Shut up and listen , close your mouth for a millisecond. I'm postponing the wedding because the location may be compromised, if you'd just open your ears you'd know that I've stated that ,bridezilla ,know my reasoning behind my actions before you speak." He firmly demanded.

You were completely loss for words you couldn't find your voice so you kept your lips sealed. Felix smugly smirked at your expression.

"You've got something on your face." He declared squinting over your features.

"Ahh that's what it is. The look of pure stupidity." He said matter of factly .

[ourotps]

The Assassin and The Punisher

Frank Castle x Reader

So I recently got into The Punisher on Netflix...and this idea just popped into my head. I definitely have a parts 2, and maybe 3, so if this does well I’ll put them out. 

___________________________

You could have only hoped he showed up. You had been taking cases around the New York area killing the same type of people that were really his M.O. You had some news for him you were sure he'd want to know.

When your mission went to shit by another player you knew it was him. Quickly getting out of your captor's hold was too easy. You grabbed for his gun quickly shooting him in the heart with it. Frank Castle had rolled in just seconds after you had killed the target you both shared. Rolling behind a crate you ambushed him as he came closer to the dead target to get a better look. You kicked his rifle out of his hands. He kicked it into gear grabbing his knife. You had to admit his punches hurt. But it was fun to keep catching him off guard as you flowed through a couple combinations effectively landing him on his ass, and throwing his knife out of his grasp You had trained for close quarters. Frank was a Marine trained to kill before seeing the white in their eye. You battled hand to hand for no reason other than for fun, you finally pinned him down.

"Hey, I'm (y/n)." You panted with your knee to his throat. You pulled down your hood so he could get a better look at you. His eyebrow raised as you introduced yourself. "Can I trust you not to kill me if I let you go?"

"Who are you?"

"I just told you my name was (y/n)." You decided to let him go.

"What do you want?" He asked studying you.

"Look, I'm here on a debt. I've been looking around for you."

"Well you found me."

"There's a kill order out for you and a couple friends. Well, it hasn't technically gone out yet. But I know they're preparing one."

"Who are you again?"

"(Y/n), did I hit your head too hard?" 

"How are you involved with this?"

"I'm an ex-SHIELD operative. Lately I've been doing some freelancing of my–uh–skills."

"So you're an assassin."

"Yeah. Now can we go so I can actually talk to you somewhere private that smells better?" He agreed to let you follow him to the van that his friend was waiting in.

You walked up to the drivers side sneaking up to the window. "Boo." You said tapping on the glass. The driver jumped making you laugh. Frank tried to hide a smile as David crawled out of the car.

"Jesus Christ." He gasped setting a hand on his heart. "Who's she."

"(Y/n)." You answered reaching out your hand.

"David." He replied eyeing Frank.

"She's got some info for us about a kill list I'm on."

"Oh fuck."

"Are you guys going to take you to your secret lair?"

"Why should we trust you?" Frank asked staring at you.

"Uh–Because I'm saving your life?" You answered shooting them a look. Wasn't it pretty obvious you were on their side.

Their base was a nerd cave if you ever saw one. It was dusty, dirty and gross. There were mysterious stains that you did not even want to guess what they could be.

"How do you guys not go bat shit crazy?"

"Who says that we're not." David mumbled walking by.

"(Y/n) talk." Frank ordered walking towards the back of the room. Clearly he was an all work kind of man. You could work with that, tease him and see what happens. Could be possible leverage if needed be.

"So there's a company named Anvil. There's a new guy running it. He's sending the money to people."

"About how much?"

"5 million each."

"Fuck." Frank breathed out.

"You have any beer?" You asked opening the fridge. You grabbed the first one opening it with your tooth. It was a fun party trick that made you look badass if anything. At least Frank got a kick out of it.

"I got a lot of other tricks I can do with my mouth." You mentioned to Frank walking past him. He didn't say anything but by the way he straightened up, you certainly had his attention.

Coming up with an attack plan was easy enough. All you had to do was infiltrated the company building one night and kill the bosses. But there was something more you wanted.

"You know Anvil's been a pain in all of our asses." You mentioned sitting back in your chair measuring Frank and David's reactions. Frank was a blank slate, but David agreed with you. "What if we ended the company?"

"And how do you pose we do that?" Frank asked sarcastically, throwing away your idea.

"Well, I was trained to infiltrate and take apart from the inside."

"Lovely." David mumbled.

"If we kill the head, it's over."

"Clearly not Francis" Frank shot you a death glare, which only intrigued you more. You always wondered which hits would land. "You killed Billy and here Anvil is again. If you cut off one head, two more shall take it's place."

"Jesus Christ, tell me you're not part of HYDRA."

"I'm not." You promised but Frank still gave you a suspicious stare. "You don't trust me very well do you Frank? Mr. Punisher."

"Don't take it personally princess."

"Oh so now we're on nickname basis, asshole?" You shot back and for a second you imagined the corners of Franks lips lifting. "Look I've got an interview with Anvil. I have someone on the inside. I'm going through their selection process. I have an in. I want to kill every head."

"Why do you spies always have to go undercover."

"Because we're good at it."

"Oh I'm sure you are."

"Actually I'm great at it." You said staring at Frank. "I'm great at a lot of things." David cleared his throat and started to type something in.

A week passed before you saw the boys again. You were passing Anvil's selection process with flying colors. You and Frank were gearing up to take down the company. You came to their little "lair" baring gifts.

"Look I have some supplies that I know you two will find interesting." You said opening the trunk of your car to show them the shit ton of weapons you had in there. David raised an eyebrow as he pulled out a sword. "Thank you gift. Take what you want."

David picked up a shiny silver handgun examining it. "Except (y/n) that's my favorite."

"You named a gun after yourself?" David asked

"Yeah first off it's a man killer. Secondly it's quick and efficient." You smirked winking at Castle who was watching you.

"Laying it on a bit thick." David mumbled

"It's a disarming technique. She was trained to be a pretty face with a smart mouth." Frank stated reaching over you to grab a rifle. He was correct, but it didn’t mean that the technique wasn't working on him at all. 

"I'm glad you think I'm pretty. Maybe we can go a few rounds." You flirted stepping up a bit staring him back in the eyes. His eyes flicked to yours and down before he stepped back. Clearing his throat he walked away.

"Eh, you're not really his type." David said grabbing a handgun with a silencer. "He likes the soft ones."

"And am I not soft?"

David looked you up and down before gulping. "No."

"So what's your story (y/n), why are you doing this? I don't trust someone doing this for fun." Frank asked sitting down on a counter. His arms were crossed as he stared at you. You had admitted that voice of his was a turn on. Ugh, it was so gravely and low. Turning to face him you put your hand on your hip.

"I told you, I'm kinda in debt. Well, technically not. It really is just a thank you."

"To who."

Meeting his eyes you answered, "You." It was an answer he didn't expect. He shifted uncomfortably looking at his feet.

"One of my friend's boyfriend was a gang member you had killed. He was extremely abusive. I didn't know until she was able to get out of the house. I never got to kill him, but I'm glad you did. You gave her another chance. She was so sure that one day he'd snap and kill her. So thank you."

"How is she now?"

"I–uh–moved her across the country to keep her safe. She'll be okay."

"Where are you from."

"I move around a lot. I try not to stay for longer than a couple months." 

"How'd you get involved with SHIELD?"

"They recruited me. I don't know why." You shrugged, but Frank understood perfectly why. You were smart, quick, and had this easiness to you. Frank knew you'd be the type of be calmer in chaos. He could see you lived in it, and you loved it. He admired how easily you had gotten inside his head even though he loathed how much of his thoughts consisted of you. 

David pulled up the video cameras of the Anvil building to go over the format of the building.

"Everyone there is a vet. Well, except me."

"It's a military contracting group of course they are."

"Why do you guys always walk around like you have sticks up your ass." Frank scowled at you making you shrug.

"Sorry not all of us can do gymnastics."

"I bet you're so tight you can't even touch your goddamn toes." Frank glared at you and bent down to touch his toes just to spite you.

"Wow Castle, should I slip a dollar in." You laughed as his ass was in the air. Surprisingly he laughed, he shook his head and tried hiding a smile. Oddly his laugh made you feel this warm feeling spread through you.

"Can you guys focus." David muttered and you both turned to the monitor.

Later that night you sat on the counter of the dinky kitchen chugging water. Sweaty and exhausted you sighed.

"I'm surprised you kept up." Frank mentioned gulping down some water himself. You two had worked out and had a few rounds on a mat.

"Really?" You asked raising an eyebrow. Did he really underestimate you that much?

"No." Frank smirked, "Actually I didn't think I would be able to keep up with you."

Smiling you leaned back as he came around to face you. "Not a lot of guys can go at the same pace as this." You mentioned dramatically waving a hand motioning to yourself.

"I'm sure there's not a boring moment with you (y/n)." Frank admitted making you smile. You felt yourself blush and hoped he didn't notice.

"Wouldn't you like to know." You teased making him roll his eyes. "How long will it take you to trust me Castle?"

He gave you a look that clearly meant he didn't want to go down this road. "Till you earn it." He replied, his voice hoarse and gravelly.

"And what does that require? Killing the Pope? Because I can probably do that."

"Where are you off to next after this?"

"I don't know yet. Depends on how this job goes. If there's more to clean up, I'll stay. I've got enough money to tie me over a few months anywhere until I need a new assignment so...I don't know." You shrugged.

"Do you like traveling around?"

"Uh–yeah. Sometimes it's hard. But the world is just so big, and Frank, it's so beautiful. Sometimes I just take a moment and breath it all in and just enjoy it. I have no home, and yeah, that takes a toll, but I'm free. Don't you ever dream of just leaving?"

Frank shrugged and looked down at his empty glass of water. "There's no place for me to go."

"There's no place for me to return to. Sometimes you just got to go. Speaking of leaving, I should do that. We've got a big night tomorrow, you know, killing people." You mentioned hopping off the counter. You placed a hand on Frank's shoulder lightly squeezing before you left.

The next day shit hit the fan. It was a blood bath. Two of the main targets were down and that's what mattered. The last one had you held there at gun point. Sighing you waiting for Frank to be brought in with your hands up.

"Oh, Mr. Castle!" The director grinned as Frank was brought in my two people. He dropped the gun on you but kept a knife to your rib so Frank couldn't see you were being held hostage.

"I'm so glad we finally got him, right?" He said pressing the blade into your skin breaking it. You said nothing.

"I hope you didn't get too attached to dollface. They helped bring you in Castle. Jeez and to think I would have had to pay five million to kill you when I paid her one to bring you here and do it myself."

"I don't believe you." Frank grunted, blood and bruises covered his face painting it a different tint. "I trust her." And Jesus, if there was ever a worst time to catch feelings it was then.

Shifting your eyes to his, you gave him a look. You shifted your weight and elbowed the director. Grabbing his knife you stabbed him a couple times. Frank flew into action and half a minute later five man were dead on the floor.

"Let's get out of here." You whispered, helping Frank up who was exhausted and probably wounded on every part of your body.

It took him almost an  entire day to feel good enough to meet you somewhere. He knew as well as you did this was goodbye. And hell, if he'd miss that.

"You asked where I'm off, and it turns out, Atlantic City." You mentioned sitting down on the roof of his apartment complex.

"Oh, I heard how gorgeous New Jersey can be." He teased making you shove him.

"Shut up. I'm hiding in a casino."

"I hate gambling."

"You sure do a lot of it."

"What do you mean?"

"You gamble with your life. Frank you must have a death wish."

"No more than you."

"Touché." You agreed looking down at your hands. You sighed glancing back at Frank who was admittedly studying you. "Do you want a picture for when you're lonely?"

"Shut up." He said bringing his lips to yours. His hand slid to your cheek caressing it. He had such a soft touch it was surprising. You smiled kissing him back. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder bring you closer. Cupping the back of his head you deepened the kiss. Pulling back you grinned leaning your forehead to his.

"You know, I could kill you seven ways in this hold." You whispered making him laugh. It was a nice sound.

"You're killing me anyways."

"Dear Frank, no one ever died by too much kissing. But we can certainly try."

[shittyfandomwritings]

Blur - YJ!Robin!Dick Grayson x Speedster!Reader

Summary: One night out on patrol, Robin meets another speedster.

Word count: 1200+

Warnings: injury i guess, this sort of isn’t really much focussed on dick and reader, romantically speaking

Note: THIS WAS MEANT TO BE A FUN DRABBLE I DONT KNOW WHAT HAPPENED

Dick sighed, running his fingers through his hair as he perched on a rooftop in Gotham. “I know what I’m talking about, Wally. You can’t substitute milk with water. The cake won’t turn out great.”

He paused, rubbing his temples as his best friend argued that they’re both liquids. “Yeah, man, but you really think anyone would eat it? Hey, listen, can this wait ‘till after patrol? I’ll call you back.”

Dick ended the call, sighing. What was he going to do with Wally? He pushed off from the roof, using his grapple gun to get around. So far, before Wally had called, he’d managed to stop 3 cases of petty theft, a bank robbery, and a murder. Which was pretty good, in his opinion.

But anything really interesting had yet to happen.

As he was swinging from building to building, a cry caught his attention from below, and in a leap, he landed on a balcony soundlessly. Having the literal higher ground was helpful, if anything were to go wrong, and a good vantage point to observe from.

From the looks of it, it was a mugging. A middle-aged lady was sprawled on the ground, trying her best to get away from the mugger, who was holding her at gunpoint and threatening to kill her.

Tensing his muscles, Dick was just about to use a one-liner and knock the mugger’s lights out - until something (or someone) zipped past them and whacked the gun out of the mugger’s hands, and zipped back into the shadows. Intrigued, Dick watched on. Something told him they wouldn’t need his help.

“Hey! Who’s there?” The mugger yelled, looking around as he whipped out a small knife that glinted in the moonlight. “I ain’t afraid of you!”

“Frankly, I’d be concerned if you were afraid of me.” A blur of movement stabilised, and a small girl dressed in a blue and black jumpsuit stood in its place. She smiled. “I’m not someone you should be afraid of.”

A speedster, Dick thought. In Gotham? That was usually Central City’s deal.

“However -” She dashed past the mugger, pushing him off balance and onto the ground, “I am -” She pushed him down again as he tried to stand, “Someone you should -” The speedster pulled him to his feet by the scruff of his neck, “Respect.”

Impressive, Dick thought, admiring how she hit him again and again, but without using lethal force. Nice.

She kicked his knife away from him. “Night.” She delivered a final blow, knocking the mugger out.

Nodding at the lady, who was staring at the unconscious body, she half-smiled and said, “You’re free to go.”

She surged to her feet and thanked the speedster profusely, to which she replied with, “All in a night’s work, ma’am.”

She waited ‘till the woman had gone out of earshot, then immediately started cradling her fist, muttering “ow” continuously, her back to Dick. She glanced at the mugger, who was out cold. “Jeez, are you made out of stone or something?” She mumbled.

She was obviously new to this. She would be a great addition to The Team. They already had Wally, but he could see that she was something special. Dick could feel it.

“Hey,” He started.

She absolutely freaked, jumping 3 feet in the air. “Holy shit! Don’t scare me like that, man!” She breathed, hand on her chest, turning to face him. Once she focussed on Dick, her eyes widened. “Robin?”

He chuckled at her reaction. “That’s me. What’s your name?”

“I - I haven’t thought of a name yet, but you can call me… Call me Blur. So, uh, how long have you been there?”

“A while. I saw the whole thing. I’m impressed at how you took that guy out.” He jumped down from the balcony, landing gracefully, eyes still fixed on the speedster.

Her cheeks reddened in a cute way. “Thanks. It wasn’t a big deal, anyway. I wasn’t expecting him to stay down, honestly, after that last hit. I don’t punch well. Strong punches, nope, not me. I don’t, at all. I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

Smiling, he replied, “Just a little bit.”

Blur smacked her forehead. “Shit, sorry. Sorry, it’s just this nervous habit of mine. Anyways, it’s getting late, I should probably go -” Suddenly, she winced in pain.

The mugger was apparently conscious and had managed to cut through her suit, leaving a ugly gash on her back behind. He snarled, “That’s what you get, you little -”

He didn’t manage to finish his sentence before Robin made quick work of him, knocking him out cold, and this time, he wouldn’t wake up until after the cops found him.

“You okay?” He asked Blur.

She smiled, albeit a bit forcefully. “I’ve had worse.”

A second passed before she blurted out, “I lied. I’m new to this stuff, and this is the worst injury I’ve gotten. Ow ow ow ow.”

She slumped onto Dick, clearly woozy from the pain. “Shit, sorry,” She groaned, before Robin could say that it was okay. She tried to right herself. “Okay, I think I can run.”

She tried running, but immediately started yelping in pain. “My bad. Ouch.”

“Okay, you’re probably going to have to come with me. We can help you.” Dick pulled her close. “Hold on.”

“What are you -” He took out his grappling gun, shot it, and swung towards another building. They were going to back to Mount Justice.

***

Soon, Blur was good as new, and she met The Team. Wally, for one, as thrilled to meet another speedster, and Artemis and M’Gan found her endearing and sweet. Connor was still reserved, but Kaldur was cordial and found her amusing. Friendships that would surely last for a long time were formed.

With Batman and Red Tornado’s approval, Blur soon became part of the Team, and eventually trusted them enough to let them know her name: Y/N L/N.

Against hIs better judgement, Robin became to develop a crush on Y/N, and he was sure that she didn’t reciprocate his feelings… Until one mission where he thought he was about to die, and Blur sped up to him and placed her lips on his. Needless to say, he went into that mission a little bit distracted, and Wally had to save his life. (Y/N was super guilty afterwards.)

Unlike most of the Team, Blur had a catchphrase, and she thought it was a pretty good one. The first time she used it in battle, she was fighting against a 6’5 super soldier who already had anger issues. She had smashed his face with a baseball bat, and that just provoked him further.

He gave chase, and to her, it was the funniest thing in the world. This lumbering, beefy man who was towering over Blur, believed he could outrun her? Through giggles, she managed to say, “I’d say catch me, but you can’t,” and proceeded to take him out.

Afterwards, Wally nodded to her. “Nice line.”

She grinned. “Thanks.”

“I can’t tell whether it sounds cringey or badass.”

“Why not both?”

it’s supposed to be a play on “catch me if you can” okay i just thought of it one day and thought it sounded cool then i decided to write a short drabble about it except it’s not a drabble now it’s just a fic with a lot of holes jsjdjdks

[crystallinecrimsonmoth]

Future Serial Killer [ongoing]

Chapter 28

It took a few days before Carl really started to feel better, and despite the fact that Negan had checked him for bites twenty times just in case his delirious mind was lying, he still sat on the bed beside him with his pistol on the nightstand, terrified that he might have to shoot the boy in the head.

For three days, he made hot drinks, gave him warm baths, rubbed his feet, and stroked his hair back, until eventually the stuffy feeling in the teen’s sinuses dissipated. Carl was thankful for it, but not as much as Negan, whose heart lifted at the disappearance of the bruising around his lover’s eye and the lack of redness around his nose. He was so glad to have the teen back to normal, thankful that he was still alive, never mind feeling better.

Which is why he’d snuck out on a supply run without Carl when he finally told him to piss off and stop babying him.

Dragging along Hunter, the poor security member that wasn’t on duty that day and had planned to take a long nap in his quarters, and Dwight, who had been more than happy to get Simon out of his hair for a while, Negan took a low-key car so Carl wouldn’t notice his disappearance being suspicious, and the three of them headed out to the closest town.

He had a plan… well, half of a plan. The older man knew he’d have to kill someone for it to work, dead or living depending on his choice, so he had his knife for stabbing and cutting, along with the machine guns of Hunter and Dwight, and he’d left Carl with Lucille in case he needed her. The bat would help to give his lover some more authority too, even though he didn’t really need it after the incident with Fry’s throat.

Leaving Carl to the brushing of his hair in the bathroom, Negan had snuck out without his leather jacket or Lucille, so he hoped he wouldn’t look suspicious, but after so many days of his constant checking on the teen, he wouldn’t blame him if he was willing to let the man drop dead in the middle of the road.

‘Rose, hey! Carl’s upstairs just now. Can you make sure he eats something while I’m out? I don’t want him to starve himself again.’ He sighed, smiling at Daniel who overheard him.

They all knew he was referring to the eating issues that Carl clearly had, but no one would say it out loud. The three of them along with Ada and Doc had been monitoring the progression of it in the past few weeks, documenting how much Carl ate each day before slowly introducing a feeding plan for him.

Carl had no idea it was happening, of course, because the one time Negan had brought up his potential eating disorder, the teen had elbowed him in the ribs and told him to go to hell. So they gradually put a little more on his plate each day until it was the correct portion for someone of his age and weight, and within a week, they had Carl eating what he should be without leaving anything on his plate.

They just hoped he never figured it out.

‘I’ll make sure he eats his lunch, don’t worry. Where are you off to?’ Rose raised an eyebrow at Negan, gesturing to Daniel to keep chopping vegetables while they spoke.

‘Keep going! You can chop and listen at the same time, Daniel!’ She scolded, hitting him with a kitchen towel as the teen nodded quickly, going back to focusing on the knife while still listening to their conversation.

Negan couldn’t help but laugh a little at the adoptive mother and son interaction that he’d just witnessed, before he went back to Rose’s question, staying quiet as he leaned in and replied in a hushed tone.

‘I’m going out to find a ring. I’m asking Carl to marry me.’ He whispered, grinning when Rose’s face went as red as her name and she hit him with the towel instead repeatedly.

‘Ow, what are you hitting me for?!’ He wailed, protecting his face with his hands in case she smacked him there too.

‘Marriage isn’t even a thing anymore! That boy might not even know what it means!’ She argued, smacking him one more time before Negan could reply.

‘He wasn’t that young when this started, he knows what marriage is! He knew his mum and dad were married!’

Rose narrowed her eyes at him, taking a deep breath at his reply before nodding and hitting him with the towel once more.

‘You better find him a nice ring!’

Negan let out a little laugh at her insistence and nodded, giving her a two-finger salute.

‘Will do, ma’am!’ He grinned before ruffling Daniel’s hair as he left the main building, heading to the old, battered car that Hunter and Dwight were leaning against.

‘Can’t we just take a better car, boss? He ain’t gonna suspect shit.’

‘I’m being cautious for a reason. If he doesn’t notice I’ve disappeared, he’s less likely to stress and get sick again. Trust me, Dwight, if we take a different car and he gets sick because he figured out we disappeared without him, the punishment will be on your head.’ Negan grinned at the blonde man, wrenching open the rusty car door and wincing at the creaking sound it made.

‘Get in, both of you. We obviously want to get back by dinner.’ He barked, getting into the driver’s seat and starting up the old bastard of a car.

It took them a half an hour drive to get to the town Negan wanted to search, where marvellous houses and fancy lawns yelled high-quality lifestyles. All three men stepped out into the fresh air and Negan actually smiled at the sight of walkers, pointing to them.

‘Check them, bring back what you find. I’ll look for the living to see if I can find any.’ He ordered with a sigh, watching them walk towards the herd with their machine guns at the ready, silencers clipped on so that they didn’t attract hundreds more than they could deal with.

Negan snuck off while they were dealing with the dead, starting with the first house in the street and trying the door, delighted when it opened without struggle, though disappointed at the same time as he knew that probably meant there weren’t any living to steal from.

Keeping his knife in front of him to take care of any stragglers, he wandered through to the first bedroom he could find on the top floor, grinning at the sight of a jewellery box on the dresser and making his way over to it, rummaging through the chains and bracelets until he got to the rings.

In truth, he didn’t know what he was going to get for the kid. He didn’t know if he had a favourite colour, but his obsession with red shirts and blue trainers hadn’t gone unnoticed, and Negan was sure if he found a black diamond ring that Carl would fall to his knees and suck him off right there. That was if his ogling of Amber’s black necklace was anything to go by.

They hadn’t really spoken about the wife situation since the two started “dating”, but he knew Carl wasn’t happy about it. Negan hadn’t slept with any of the women since his beloved slapped him that first time in the courtyard, too utterly head over heels to care about anyone except his little rabbit, but that didn’t seem to mean anything to the teen. Every time he saw the group, he would still go from a bright smile to an angry scowl in seconds.

One of the women, Julia, had gone missing a few weeks before that day, all of her belongings still in the room with nothing else to explain why she had left or escaped or whatever had happened to her.

Suspicious, Negan had brought it up with his one-eyed beauty, but Carl was oblivious. He claimed he had no idea what happened so the man simply dropped the conversation, and as time went on, he forgot about it completely. Either a sign of old age or a sign of skilled manipulation by Carl Grimes.

Drifting out of his thoughts, Negan focused on the rings he found. Yellow, no. Gold band, hell no. The clear diamonds were somewhat attractive, so he pocketed those, along with the red and purple rings he found, before leaving the house again, moving onto the next one.

The next few houses were no good. No jewellery boxes, nothing strewn around the rooms or left on a shelf forgotten after being taken off. The Saviour only found a few more rings before he really gave up, having cleared out the entire street. It seemed that people cared more about taking their jewellery with them than food in this neighbourhood, so he’d have to steal one of the stray cars in the driveways and take back all the food they could find in the houses.

As he stepped outside, he saw Hunter and Dwight covered in guts with a pouch full of twenty-six rings, all unique colours and designs. The sight made Negan smile, and he patted both of them on the back as he took the little bag. There were some good gems in the haul they had stripped from the dead, lots of red and blue stones accompanied by white diamonds and opal rocks, but the one that really stood out to him had a pure obsidian gem in the centre.

It shone like the real thing, and with the wealth of that particular street, it wouldn’t surprise Negan if it was real obsidian. The gem had two red rubies on either side of it, all set in a silver band that looked like a halo of leaves, and the slim design made it look like it would fit Carl perfectly.

Negan pocketed it with a nod, putting it inside the little black ring box he had found in one of the houses. Then he grinned at his two men.

‘Brilliant work, boys. There’s a fuck ton of food in these houses so let’s find the biggest car in the street and pack it up, we’ll take two if we have to and drive back together.’

Hunter and Dwight nodded.

‘We’ll search them all. Do you want to rest? You look a bit out of it.’ Dwight suggested, patting Negan’s shoulder as they talked.

The Saviour shook his head, grinning down at the ring he was holding.

‘No, I’m just thinking about what his face will look like when I give him this.’

‘You know if you do it in front of the whole Sanctuary, he’ll slap you.’ Hunter laughed as they started into the first house, grabbing a box and filling it with everything they could find.

‘He might, but his temper is one of the things I love about him so that’s okay. Bring the car around, would you? I’ll start packing up the next house.’ Negan nodded to Dwight who disappeared out the door, machine gun in hand just in case he met any stragglers.

Soon enough, they had packed up ten houses, all food that was able to be used going into the cars they stole. They’d all picked one car each, towing the rust bucket they had arrived in with the four by four that Hunter picked out and driving back towards the Sanctuary.

It was spaghetti that night, at Negan’s request, in an attempt to butter Carl up even more to say yes to his proposal. The kid had inhaled the spaghetti he made in Alexandria all those months ago, even if he’d never admit to liking it and looked pissed as hell while eating it, so it sounded like a good call when Negan told Rose to make it for dinner that night.

The Sanctuary was bustling around as always when the three Saviours got back, most people just getting on with their jobs with the exception of a few who were preparing things for the proposal that everyone but Carl knew about.

Carl liked chocolate, Negan knew that for a fact after the small square he had offered the boy while he was sick that he had gobbled down like a glass of water, so he had more hot chocolate brought up from the cellar to please his lover, and the bakers had been put to work making a cake for their engagement. The Saviour only hoped Carl said yes after all the things he’d put in place for that evening.

Letting Dwight and Hunter off until dinner, Negan wandered through to find Valerie so she could add the rings to their storage collection. They would come in handy if anyone else ever wanted to get married, though the convention had become less and less common as years went on, only a few couples per year deciding to solidify their relationship.

Negan wanted to be one of those couples with Carl, he wanted to have the kid all to himself and be his family rather than Rick being his family. It was his turn to take care of the one-eyed teen now, and he was determined to do a much better job than the older Grimes had.

Once the rings were safely in Valerie’s hands and the ring box was securely in Negan’s pocket, he headed upstairs, neglecting to knock on his and Carl’s door and walking straight in with no regard for what the teen was doing. It wasn’t like he’d be hiding shit from him, so he had no reason to knock.

As soon as he walked in, he was greeted to the most beautiful sight he’d ever laid eyes on.

Carl was standing in front of the full-length mirror, decked out in black and green lingerie that fitted around his slim body like it was made for him, stockings covering his long legs as he ran his thumbs down the sides where the teddy hugged his hips.

There was an empty plate on the dresser, a sign that he’d eaten all his lunch, but the look the teen was giving it made Negan realise he wasn’t entirely okay at that moment. He approached from behind once he shed his jacket on the bed, covering Carl’s lingering hands with his own and squeezing them.

‘You feeling okay, darling?’

The young Saviour just gave a slight nod, leaning into his chest. Negan smiled a little, knowing he was lying but dropping it for the moment so he could make him happy instead.

‘I want you to get dressed up in that black shirt I got you and come downstairs for me, okay? It’s dinner time.’

Carl raised an eyebrow at him quizzically.

‘Why do I need the shirt? You said it was for special occasions.’

‘Did I? Well, I just like to see my favourite boy looking confident, and I know you like that shirt.’ Negan grinned, kissing his cheek and rubbing his hands over the teen’s hips to stop him from dwelling on the soft parts of himself.

He watched as he got a nod from him before the kid was padding over to the wardrobe in his lace outfit, rummaging to find the shirt. The older Saviour watched him with fond eyes, admiring the way the panties underneath the bodysuit hugged his ass - it made him want to take a bite right out of that round, fleshy peach. He was obsessed with the younger man’s body, but his mind was what he tried to focus on at that moment, determined to make him happier.

Negan sat on the bed until Carl was dressed and ready to go downstairs, the ring box still in his pocket as they approached the crowd of Saviours in the community hub. They all knew what was about to happen and to their complement, they were all doing a very good job of acting normal.

The pair of lovers wandered down to where Rose was handing out portions of spaghetti, a big grin gracing her face when they approached. Negan glared at her, motioning with his hand across his neck to cut it out, not wanting Carl to get suspicious.

‘Why are you so happy tonight?’

Too late.

Rose did her best to keep her composure though, simply giving Carl a softer smile instead as she handed him his plate.

‘Just feeling particularly thankful for life today.’

‘Here, here!’ Ada’s voice chimed in as she approached with Doc to get their portions, grinning at the Grimes boy with barely contained glee that made Negan even more anxious about giving shit away.

Carl raised an eyebrow at both of them, clearly confused, but ultimately shrugged and took his plate, wandering over to the table that he and Negan always occupied when they had dinner downstairs. The older man whipped around to glare at the women once Carl wasn’t looking anymore.

‘I’m stressed out enough about this without you two screwing it up! Stop grinning!’ He scolded but he wasn’t angry at all, too much pent up energy in his stomach to focus on anything but what he was going to do when they finished dinner.

The two women just gave him smirks, making the man groan and stalk off with his dinner to sit with Carl.

An hour later when everyone had eaten and plates were being stacked up to go to the kitchen, Carl was talking to one of the security team members that he had become friendly with since the incident at Hilltop. Rory, Negan was pretty sure that was his name, but he didn’t really care while everyone around him helped to set up what he was about to do.

Rose slid the cake onto the counter in front of her from where it had been hidden underneath, and Daniel snuck around to talk to Carl, grinning at him as he signed.

‘I’ll take your plate through to the kitchen, dude.’

Negan watched as Carl smiled and nodded at Daniel, before getting down on one knee behind him with the ring box open in his hand and waiting for the teen to turn around. When he finally did, his eye went so wide it looked as if it were about to pop out of his skull, and Negan grinned widely at him.

‘Marry me?’

[bamby0304]

The Hart: Chapter One

Summary:  When Lizzie was just a few months old, she lost her father. Fifteen years later she lost her mother, and then her sister. Now in her early twenties Lizzie spends her days and nights hunting things and saving people. When the Winchesters meet the bright eyed and bubbly blonde they don’t realise what they’re in for… and neither does she…

Part Two: We Know What We’re Doing.

Masterlist

Warnings: None... so far...

Bamby

SPOV

We'd gotten out of the roadhouse quickly, not wanting to stick around for whatever was coming next. Jo hadn't looked happy with Ellen's decision, but the other girl had just looked pissed.

When I first saw her, I was surprised she was a hunter. She was so small and sweet looking. But the moment Ellen said she couldn't go anywhere, I understood everything. There was a fire in the girl's eyes that even had me a little scared.

The fire told me a lot. An anger like that meant she'd be a good fighter. I also had a feeling she wasn't one to be messed with or underestimated. It also told me why Ash hadn't made a move. Honestly, there'd been a split second where I thought about making a move, but that idea faded the moment I saw how she'd that pissed look in her eyes.

Now at the apartment building for the case, I picked the lock to the particular apartment we needed, so Dean and I could sneak in. Pulling out the EMF reader, I turned to look over my shoulder and at Dean as he closed the door. "I feel kinda bad, snaking their case."

"Maybe." he shrugged, moving around to start searching the place. "Jo put together a good file. But could you see her out here working one of these things?" he licked his tongue. "I don't think so." stopping a few feet from me, he pulled out his EMF reader. "Getting anything?"

"No, not yet." I answered, moving the device around.

It started beeping then, letting us know that there was something here, or that there had been at least.

I looked to where the EMF seemed to be coming from, finding some black goo coming out of a socket in the wall. "What's that?"

"What?" Dean came over to check it out.

Lifting a finger, I poked at the goo, wiping some off. It didn't take a genius to figure out what the stuff was... "Holy crap."

Dean poked at it as well, checking it out. "That's ectoplasm." lowering his hand, he turned to me. "Well, Sam, I think I know what we're dealing with here. It's the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man." he told me with a sincere and serious tone, even though he was clearly joking.

Sighing, I shook my head at him. He may find this funny, but I didn't. "Dean, I've only seen this stuff, like… twice. I mean, to make this stuff, you have to be one majorly pissed-off spirit."

"All right, let's find this badass before he snags any more girls." he nodded, turning for the exit.

EPOV

Jo and I walked down the halls of the apartment building with the manager between us as he led us to the vacant apartment where one of the kidnapped victims had been taken. Of course, he didn't know she'd been taken. He also didn't know why we were here. According to him, we were two sisters looking for a place to rent.

We'd dressed in civilian clothes, in the hopes that it would make us look more approachable. Jo didn't look much different from her usual look, dressed in her jeans, a shirt and khaki jacket. It was me who'd had a complete wardrobe change.

Swapping my tight, dark, ripped jeans for a flowing white skirt. Instead of a tank top, I wore a sky-blue polo. My boots were gone, replaced with a pair of white flats, and my wavy hair was left to fall down my back. While my leather jacket and necklaces- except for one of the heart ones- were stowed away in my bag. The only thing I couldn't hide were the tattoos on display- the arrow and infinity sign on my fingers.

"It's so convenient." Jo smiled at the manager.

"Yeah." he nodded. "It's a great building. Fixed it up real nice. Apartments come furnished too."

"I bet everyone's so friendly." I beamed.

"It is so spacious. Our friend told us that we absolutely had to come check it out. And I have to admit that she was right."

I nodded, agreeing with Jo's lie. "You did an excellent job with this place." placing a hand on the landlord's arm, I kept smiling sweetly at him.

"What the hell are you two doing here?" Dean asked as he and his brother walked around the corner, both clearly shocked to see Jo and myself.

My smile grew as I hurried towards Dean's brother and threw my arms around his neck before placing a quick peck on his lips. "I missed you." batting my eyes at him, I kept myself from laughing at his obvious confusion and discomfort.

"There you are, honey." Jo stepped up to Dean, wrapping an arm around him. "This is my boyfriend Dean and his buddy Sam." Jo explained to the apartment manager.

I turned to the man, nodding as I leaned against Sam. "The four of us are getting an apartment together." I told him excitedly.

The manager nodded, offering both men his hand. "Good to meet you. You boys are lucky to have these two gals."

The confused- and clearly unhappy- look Dean gave Jo did not go unmissed by me, but everyone else seemed oblivious as he played along, pulling Jo closer to him- a little too roughly might I add. "Oh, yeah, she's a pistol."

Still playing her part, Jo looked to Dean. "So did you already check out the apartment?" she asked, and I could feel Dean's brother start to panic slightly as he shifted on the spot. "The one for rent."

It took a moment, but Dean caught on. "You bet. Yes." he nodded, chuckling lightly. "Loved it. Great flow."

"How'd you get in?" the manager asked, confused.

"It was open." Dean answered in an instant.

Changing the subject, I quickly turned to Sam, resting my hand on his chest as I looked up at him. "What about you, babe? Did you like it?"

His arm wrapped around me as he slowly nodded. "Perfect." was all he managed, still clearly uncomfortable.

"Now, Ed, when did the last tenant move out?" Jo asked, getting back to business.

"Uh, about a month ago. Cut and run, too. Stiffed me for the rent."

"Well, her lose, our gain." Jo smiled again. "'Cause if Dean-o loves it, it's good enough for me."

"Oh, sweetie." Dean looked down at her, his smile just as fake.

Reaching into her pocket, Jo pulled out a handful of cash. "We'll take it."

Jaw falling open, the manager took the cash, having no reason not to let us stay in the apartment now.

DPOV

Jo, Sam and I were gathering all the weapons and tools we had, and searching through the information Jo had found so we would be ready for whatever was coming out way. There may be ectoplasm, but I liked to be prepared for anything.

Turning to Jo, I sighed. "Does your mother even know you and your friend are here?"

"We told her we were going to Vegas." she answered simply as she grabbed the building's plan.

"You think she's gonna buy that?" I sure as hell wouldn't.

"We're not idiots, Dean." Elizabeth spoke as she walked into the living room, now dressed in faded jeans, a white tank and her red leather jacket- a look that I personally liked on her. "Jo got Ash to lay a credit-card trail straight to the casinos. He also found an easy enough job I could do on my own there, which someone else is actually dealing with."

I looked from Elizabeth to Jo, shaking my head. "You know, you shouldn't lie to her like that." I told them, turning back to my gun as I continued to lean it. "And you sure as hell shouldn't be here." the words were mainly directed to Jo.

She just shrugged, not caring for what I had to say. "Well, I am, so untwist your boxers and deal with it."

"Where'd you get all that money from, anyways?" Sam asked as he sat at the other end of the table.

"Working at the roadhouse." Jo answered.

"Hunters don't tip that well." I noted.

"Speak for yourself." Elizabeth mumbled as she pulled herself onto the kitchen bench, drew a gun from the back of her pants and began to pull it apart- like a pro, might I add.

"They aren't that good at poker either." Jo gave me a cocky grin.

Before I could say anything else, my phone began to ring. Biting my tongue, despite the fat I still ha d a lot to say to both girls, I got up from where I'd been leaning against the table, I pulled my phone out and answered it. "Yeah."

"Are they with you?"

My heart rate picked up a little at the sound of that voice. I looked to both Jo and Elizabeth as I spoke into the phone again. "Oh, hi, Ellen."

"They left a note saying they're in Vegas. I don't believe it for a second."

I covered the mouth piece of the phone as Jo stepped up to me. Elizabeth didn't move though, she just continued fiddling with her gun while Sam stood and watched Jo and I, clearly unsure about the situation.

"Don't tell her." Jo warned, voice hushed so her mum couldn't hear her.

Keeping my voice low as well, I shook my head. "I'm telling her."

"I'm gonna kill you."

"You're not supposed to be here."

"Dean?" Ellen's voice on the other end pulled my attention back to the phone.

Without really thinking through the situation or consequences, I said the first three words that came to mind. "Haven't seen them."

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Well, please, if either of them shows up, you'll drag their butts back here, won't you?"

"Absolutely."

"Okay. Thanks, honey."

Having nothing else to say I hung up, which had Jo beaming up at me.

"You know, you're not that bad after all, Dean." Elizabeth nodded as she clicked the last piece of her gun back into place.

SPOV

I sat across from Jo, the two of us going through some paperwork, trying to figure out who the ghost might be. Elizabeth still sat on the kitchen bench, legs folded in front of her as she sharpened some knives. While Dean paced in the living room, listening to Jo as she talked.

"This place was built in 1924. It was originally a warehouse converted into apartments a few months ago." Jo explained, fiddling with a knife.

"Yeah, what was here before 1924?" Dean asked.

Jo shrugged. "Nothing. Empty field."

"So most likely scenario, someone died bloody in the building, now he's back and raising hell." I suggested.

"Only problem is, in the past eighty odd years there have been exactly zero violent deaths." Elizabeth spoke up for the first time in a while.

"Unless you count a janitor who slipped on a wet floor." Jo noted, causing both Dean and I to give a short scoff. Without even looking at him, Jo spoke to Dean. "Would you sit down, please?"

He hesitated a moment, glancing over at me, before taking a seat at the other end of the table. "So have you checked police reports, county death records?"

"Obituaries." Jo nodded.

"Mortuary reports." Elizabeth added.

"And seven other sources." Jo finished. "I know what I'm doing. We know what we're doing." she gestured to herself and Elizabeth with the knife.

But Dean wasn't buying it. "Think the jury's still out on that one." Jo rolled her eyes and started to fiddle with the knife again, catching Dean's attention. "Could you put the knife down?"

Feeling the tension in the room, I quickly spoke up. "Okay, so it's something else, then. Maybe some cursed object that brought a spirit with it."

Getting back on track, Jo turned to me. "We gotta scan the building, everywhere we can get to, right?"

"Right." Dean answered before I could. "So, you and me will take the top two floors." he gestured to Jo and himself, and then to me and Elizabeth. "Sammy and Elizabeth will take the bottom." giving a quick- and fake- smile, he stood and started for our bags.

"We'll move faster if we split up." Jo noted, turning to get up and stand in his way.

"Yeah." Elizabeth jumped off the counter, moving to stand next to Jo, the two of them glaring up at Dean. "Look, if you don't want Jo going on her own, I'll take her. She'll have my back, I'll have hers. I'd feel better that way."

I wasn't sure if I should be insulted, or if she was insulting Dean. Either way, Elizabeth was clearly protective over Jo. Made sense though. I wasn't sure who was older, but Elizabeth obviously had some experience behind her, unlike Jo. I actually wouldn't have minded if the two girls went together. As long as the job got done.

But Dean just kept grinning down at both of them, not leaving room for any arguments. "This isn't negotiable."

DPOV

"So, you gonna buy me dinner?" Jo asked as we walked down the halls, EMF readers scanning everywhere and everything.

"What are you talking about?"

She shrugged. "It's just, if you're gonna ride me this close, it's only decent you buy me dinner."

"Oh, that's hilarious." I shook my head at her. "You know, it's bad enough I lied to your mum, but if you think I'm letting you out of my sight... Like your mum said, you're the spirit's type."

"Exactly."

Frowning, I turned to her again as we rounded the corner. What the hell does that mean? "You wanna be bait?"

"Quickest way to draw it out and you know it." she noted, making me give a short and unamused chuckle that had her stop. "What?"

"I'm so regretting this."

"You know, I've had it up to here with your crap." she lifted her hand to her head for added effect.

"Excuse me?"

"Your chauvinist crap." she explained, not holding back the attitude. "You think women can't do the job. It's why you've got Sam with Lizzie even though I told you she's one of the best hunters I know."

Bored grin on my lips, I shook my head. "Sweetheart, this ain't Gender Studies. Women can do the job fine. Amateurs can't. You've got no experience. What you do have is a bunch of half-baked romantic notions that some barflies put in your head." I shrugged, telling her the harsh truth. "And that friend of yours? You haven't seen her hunt, so saying she's one of the best hunters you know, means nothing to me. And let me tell you-" I stopped myself from saying something I might regret.

But she pushed me to go on. "What?"

"Forget it."

"No, you started this."

"Jo, you got options. No one in their right mind chooses this life. My dad started me in this when I was so young I wish I could do something else."

"You love the job." she noted.

I gave a light chuckle and small grin. "Yeah, but I'm a little twisted."

"You don't think I'm a little twisted too?"

I let out a short sigh, getting back to my point. "Jo, you got a mother that worries about you, who wants something more for you. Those are good things. You don't throw things like that away. Might be hard to find later." I shrugged before turning around and continuing down the fall.

Everything I'd said was true. Women could do the job, and I did want something more for Sammy and me. But the most honest thing I'd told her was that finding a family after you've lost one is hard to do. Sam and I were lucky enough to have each other. I don't know what we'd do if we didn't.

The sound of Jo's gasp had me turn, a slight look of fear was in her eyes as she stood at the corner of the hall way.

"What?"

"I'm not sure."

Walking back to her, I looked around for any signs of change. If she was feeling something, the spirit could be around. But it wasn't my eyes that noticed something different. "You smell that?"

She sniffed the air, trying to figure out what we were smelling. "What is that, a gas leak?"

I shook my head. "No, something else. I know it. Just can't put my finger on it."

As I tried to figure out the smell, Jo crouched down by a vent on the wall, pointing her EMF reader to it. Right away, the scanner began to beep.

Forgetting about the smell, I nodded, a grin forming on my lips. "Mazel tov." I started putting my own EMF reader away. "You just found your first spirit."

"It's inside the vent."

Crouching down next to her, I pulled out my torch before shining it to the vent. Not being able to see much, I handled her the torch and then pulled out a screwdriver before I started to take the cover off the vent.

Taking the torch from her again, I leaned in closer, taking a better look. "There's something in there." reaching in I felt around before grabbing a hold of something and pulling it out. It was a chunk of skin with long blonde hair hanging from it. "Somebody's keeping souvenirs..."

EPOV

I hadn't slept last night, though when I was on a case I rarely slept. Instead, Jo and I had sat up going through all the information she'd gathered, trying to figure out who the spirit could be.

The door to one of the bedrooms opened as Sam walked out, pulling his jacket on. "I'm gonna go grab some coffees." he told us as he headed for the door.

I jumped out of my seat in an instant. "I'm coming. I need something covered in sugar or drowned in grease." smiling, I turned to Jo. "You'll be good here on your own?"

"Dean's in the living room, Lizzie. I'm sure if I need anything he'll get up."

"Cool." leaning down, I pressed a kiss to her head before grabbing y leather jacket and moving over to Sam as he stood the door. "Let's go then." I smiled as the two of us left the apartment.

…

Sam and I hadn't really talked yet. I hadn't even apologized for kissing him yesterday- and I probably wasn't going to. Even last night when we'd been walking around together, I'd been too pissed to really say much. Dean had gotten under my skin, bossing Jo and I around. But I knew I could get to him too.

Kissing Sam yesterday had freaked the youngest Winchester out… but I'd also noticed the brief look of jealousy from Dean. He liked me… or wanted me, same thing.

As much as I was attracted to Dean, I knew nothing could come from it. Not when Jo had a little crush on him. She was my friend- practically my sister. I knew better than to do anything that might jeopardize that.

Besides, like I said before, I don't sleep with hunters. Been there, done that. They're either jerks or want more than I'm willing to offer.

"So how long have you been hunting?" Sam asked, breaking the silence.

"Oh, uh, about eight years." I shrugged, the two of us walking down the halls and stairs.

His jaw practically fell to the floor, a reaction I got from most hunters when they asked that question. "Eight years? How old are you?"

"Twenty-three." I looked up at him then. "You don't look much older than me. So why is it such a shock that I've been hunting for so long? When did you start?"

"It's different-"

Before he could go on, I cut him off. "Why, because you're a guy?"

"No." he scoffed, shaking his head. "It's different because I didn't have a choice. Because my dad dragged my brother and I around the country. Because I've never been alone on the job."

He did have a point there. But it wasn't like I'd had much of a choice either. After losing my entire family to monsters I'd been plagued with the need for revenge. After I finally got it, there wasn't much else I could do with my life.

High school dropout, expert at killing things that go bump in the night, a jar overflowing with trust issues and attitude problems. I wasn't exactly the most likeable person- hence why I found it hard to find people I actually liked hunting with. After spending years hunting and killing things most people didn't even know existed, I felt like I was responsible to continue doing it. That way, I could at least keep others from being pulled into the life.

"Look, Sam." I sighed, shoving my hands into the pockets of my dark red leather jacket. "I get why you and Dean are being protective of Jo and me, but you don't have to be. She's tougher than she looks, and I'm more experienced than you think. I've been out in the world, doing all of this, since I was fifteen years old. So really, there's no need for you to worry about me."

We fell into silence again, the two of us walking side by side without a word being spoken. It was a little uncomfortable, sure, but it wasn't completely bad.

Sam had a kind of calm nature about him. I could tell he was one of the good guys. I guess after being around a bunch of douche bag hunters for so long, it was a pleasant change to be with a guy that actually seemed pretty normal. In fact, there was part of me that felt like Sam could be the kind of guy I could stick with. Hell, even Dean seemed like he could be a good friend.

The job was my life now. I was used to sleeping in cars and cheap hotels. I was used to getting bloody and dirty. I was used to being knocked out, and battered up. I was used to killing things without hesitation. I was used to doing whatever it took to get the job done. I was a hunter through and through, and I loved every bit of it.

But as much as I loved the job, sometimes it was hard. I hated the part where I was tossed to the side once my help was no longer needed. I hated the fact that besides Jo, Ellen and Ash, I didn't have many friends or family- though I did have a surrogate father too, only we didn't get to see each other as much anymore.

Sam stepped up to the entrance doors of the apartment building, pulling it open for me as he gestured for me to go out first. I offered a kind smile and a light nod before stepping out of the building and into the street, only to come to a stop as Sam stepped up beside me.

A cop car was parked out the front of the building, two officers speaking with the manager of the apartment. Something was clearly not right.

"Well..." I looked up at Sam. "This can't be good."

DPOV

The sound of sirens in the street woke me up. I was twisted like a pretzel on the uncomfortable recliner. All night I'd been tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable. It's safe to say I hadn't had the best sleep of my life.

I rolled over and looked over to the dining room seeing Jo sitting at the table looking over all the paper work again.

She looked up and smiled at me as she fiddled with her knife. "Morning, princess."

I groaned, sitting up. "Where's Sam and Elizabeth?"

"Went to get coffee."

I stretched, trying to unravel of the kinks and twists my muscles and bones were in because of the uncomfortable 'bed' I'd been left with last night. "My back." I groaned again. "How'd you and your friend sleep on that big, soft bed?" I asked her as I stood up.

"We didn't." she answered simply. "Just been going over everything."

I watched as she focused on the paperwork, absentmindedly flicking the knife around in her hand. It was a small thing, dainty really. It didn't give me much confidence with keeping her safe.

Leaning down to my bag that sat by the kitchen table, I grabbed it and dumped it on to the table before reaching in and fishing out a knife of my own which I then offered to her. "Here."

"What's this for?" she asked, taking the knife from me.

"It'll work a hell of a lot better than that little pig-sticker you're twirling around." I shrugged.

I noticed the way she paused as she looked up at me before offering her own knife. Unsure what this was about, I still took it, looking the weapon over. That's when I saw the letters W.A.H engraved on to the blade.

"William Anthony Harvelle." she answered my unasked question.

I understood in an instant and handed the knife back to her. "Sorry. My mistake."

As we traded knives again, and I put mine away, she watched me, silent at first until she finally spoke up. "What do you- What do you remember about your dad? I mean, what's the first thing that pops into your head?" when I didn't say anything, she pushed for an answer. "Come on, tell me."

Letting out a sigh, I took a seat at the end of the table as I answered her. "I was six or seven, and, uh, he took me shooting for the first time. You know, bottles on a fence, that kind of thing. I bull's-eyed every one of them. He gave me this smile, like... I don't know." I shook my head, looking down at the table.

"He must have been proud."

I let out a little chuckle before turning to her. "What about your dad?"

"I was still in pigtails when my dad died. But I remember him coming home from a hunt. He'd burst through that door like Steve McQueen or something." she smiled, looking away as if she were in the memory now. "And he'd sweep me up in his arms, and I'd breathe in that old leather jacket of his.

"And my mum, who was sour and pissed from the minute he left, she started smiling again. And we were... We were a family." her smile fell then as she turned to me again. "You wanna know why I wanna do the job? For him. It's my way of being close to him. Now, tell me, what's wrong with that?"

"Nothing." I answered honestly.

The front door of the apartment opened as Sam and Elizabeth walked in.

"Where's the coffee?" I asked as I turned to them.

The look on Sam's face told me there was something wrong. "There are cops outside." he told us, a little out of breath. "Another girl disappeared."

Bamby

If you would like to be tagged please send an ask, and tell me what list you want to be added to, it’s just easier to organise this way :):)

[punkasshunter]

Commission for @sorrel-the-dork done! Sorry this took a while to get up, haven’t been home and the hotspot connection is still piss-poor now that I’m back. x_x Hope I did okay with your characters though!

In this day and age, there was nothing quite more satisfying than actual weight in the bag over your shoulder, and the heavy “shnk, shnk, shnk” sound of canned goods and bottles rustling around. You could almost make a tune out of it, Sorrel thought to herself, something of a stride finally in her step as she walked with it.

“Kind of cool how after there’s no one else around it’s called “scavenging” and not “looting”, huh? Hey, Kreech?” she chimed, a grin curling her face.

Her companion didn’t answer, not that he could. Rather, he just turned a long look on her, and in that moment she could’ve sworn she saw the glint of eyes looking at her from under the hood. The chuff that her friend- the Hunter- gave seemed satisfied enough though, so she finger-gunned happily.

“Yeah, you get it.”

She wasn’t entirely sure that he did, in fact, get it, but sometimes she strongly suspected that he did. In any case, he made a surprisingly good conversational partner for some kind of mutant that couldn’t actually speak. Leagues over talking to a wall, anyways. She should know.

Their arrangement might’ve been odd, but it definitely had its advantages. For one, the safety made trips out for supplies like this one a heck of a lot easier. Jeez. This entire go, she’d hardly seen one common, except for at a distance where they hadn’t even noticed her. Something about one of the bigger and badder infected around seemed to make them want to give them a decent berth. Even aside from that though, even though she could only speak for herself, she was pretty sure the both of them benefited from the companionship. She knew that being on her own had sucked in a major way, and from how reluctant Kreech was to be separated for even a minute, she wouldn’t doubt that the feeling was mutual.

She patted her knee to call him in closer. “Come on, good boy. Are we going back, or think we should try someplace else?” He stalked on up closer, practically leaning up over her. She shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah, let’s stay out a little longer. Sometimes you’re just on a roll, right?”

The further they did get from the little enclosed garage where they were camped out, though, she noticed that Kreech began to get even more wary than normal. His head was raised constantly, very clearly on the lookout for any trace of anything not right. It almost made her feel a little bad, since she knew he was pretty hypervigilant already.

“Ah, come on, buddy. Risk versus reward. We’ll be fine, promise.” As much as you could promise something like that in a world like this, anyways. Still, though. She trekked on. Now, it seemed like at some point she’d seen something about a clothing store somewhere around here, and that would mean the chance of finding a replacement for her tattered pants-

She had to slam on the brakes when Kreech belted an arm out in front of her, nearly causing her to fall back on her ass.

“Ah, Kreech! What was that fo-” she started out loud before silencing herself, hearing the low growl coming from him and realizing something had to be up. Crap. She fumbled for her handgun as, under his lead, they hurried in to crowd close to the buildings on the side of the street. It was only achingly slowly that he allowed them to progress forward towards the intersection, to slowly peer out around the street corner. And it was there that she saw it. Her heart jumped into her throat.

It was odd, seeing other Hunters at this point, compared to her Kreech. “Lean and mean” seemed to be a pretty fitting descriptor. This one in particular was perched on top of a mailbox with the remnants of some sort of unidentifiable corpse, maw still dripping in blood, and was attempting to stuff the leftovers into the box for presumably safekeeping which, well, was one use for it. Ooh no. This was something she’d rather not deal with right now, even for a chance at some clean clothes. She started to tug at his sweatshirt to retreat back the other way. He was rooted pretty firmly into place though, and after a second, she saw why: The other Hunter had finished with his task, and was looking directly in that direction. Crap!

Her immediate reaction was to raise the gun. Could she even get off an accurate shot fast enough? Kreech seemed to have other plans though and edged further up ahead, squaring his shoulders. He was, indeed, the bigger Hunter in this case, and he let out a menacing snarl, tensing and crouching down closer to the ground.

This didn’t seem to go over all that well with the other Hunter. One of those awful, chilling shrieks left him, and then suddenly he was launching off of his mail box.

“HOLY SHI-!”

It was a false start, though, and the other infected still landed approximately a yard away. Still it obviously freaked Kreech the hell out, because now he was pissed, spitting and snarling and the whole nine yards as he squared up on this Hunter, teeth bared and ready to go. When the other raised claws and took an angry bat at him, he responded in kind with a solid swipe at his face, which managed to connect despite him jerking back at the last second to avoid it.

Sorrel could feel her heart slamming in her chest. Holy shit. She knew that wasn’t even entirely serious yet, but she was almost certain that swipe had cut down to the other Hunter’s jawbone, from the way they yowled and hissed and fell back. The worst part was that she also absolutely knew that she was the very thing they were fighting over.

In seconds Kreech was up over the other Hunter, pinning him down against the pavement. He growled wildly, slamming a knee hard into the other’s stomach to keep him down. A returning growl cut off into a wheeze, and then Kreech’s teeth were at his throat. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife and Sorrel cringed, not entirely sure she wanted to see what happened next as it lingered on. And then, finally, the teeth unclenched and the knee shifted, just barely. The smaller infected gasped in breath and looked right goddamn at her, seeming to consider another lunge before turning tail, dripping fresh blood down his face all the while.

She. She had to sit down for a minute. “Holy shit,” she breathed out yet again, “Holy shit Kreech, I-”

She didn’t even have time to speak any more before he was entirely up in her business, lifting up her arms and circling around her legs inspecting for any sign of injury. He let out an uncertain growl, baring his own teeth briefly.

“Hey! Hey, I’m okay, alright? No… no harm done here.”

She breathed out a slow breath of relief, glad that the incident had passed, thanks to her companion. “I. I’m okay.”