#also her dad is still alive but he has to be hooked up to machines in a gotham hospital bed and her mom isnt in the picture

[jesytr]

you don't see color & want to go back to black & white .

it hit her like a nail pushed into a coffin. the needle lunging in deep enough to keep its living corpse trapped within. she could feel a thought stirring deeply within her noggin'. rustling around with other more important thoughts. those like . . . define black and white ?? . . . what did it matter to him ?? . . . and how'd he guess it so easily??

reading her like an educated tutor telling their student how to do mathematics. she didn't enjoy the thought that what he was doing was digging deeper into the parts of her that lacked color. that crept forwards with an afterthought of feeling left behind. that how she saw the world was exactly like a colorful giraffe on a tight rope. eventually they'd either break the rope , or . . .

" ya' know me. " she chewed out her words. though with slight fascination on how he had figured it all out in the span of a couple words. MASKING QUICKLY BEHIND BLUE EYES THAT LOOKED AWAY, " it's not my fault. " she added. her hands flexed and she pulled out a chewable piece of candy. rolling it in her fingers. feeling the texture of the wax paper settling against her fingers.

" ya' don't know this about me, but my dad used ta' kick me around. " eyes went down. no longer presently there. her mind floating away from her body. pulling up out of daydreams she was somewhere else. listening to looney tunes intros on repeat. as if that old man could still reach her from his stay plugged up in Gotham height's hospital bed, " yea . . . real messed up childhood. ma didn't think ta' leave him then , only when it was her turn ta' look black n' blue. "

she pulled the papers off her piece of caramel before plopping it in her mouth. sticking to candy as one of her main habits of nervousness. not quite stable enough to understand maybe it was a coping skill. settling back in her seat. legs crossed. hands beginning to fidget. keeping up a described version of what anyone wanted out of herself. she let out a nervous chuckle. one that pitched almost to the extreme. only laughing at the memories of her father. kept safely locked behind her eyes. she laughed, and laughed before settling on her next words, " Ahh! Too funny! I haven't laughed like that in awhile. maybe next time I'll tell ya' about this boy I knew. he thought he'd hurt me like my old man. " she wiped tears out of her eyes before continuing, " I knocked out a few o' his teeth. "

[shunshuntaiga]

Awww </3 stupid blue hellsite, eating my messages. whatever, it's not like you missed much, it was the usual suburra insanity lol. I really did, it's one of the best written english suburra fics. Tysm for sharing it. And I think it's normal to be a little unsure when finally posting any art because you, as the person making it, can always see it for what it can be, all the little improvements. But the readers see it for what it is, which in the case of your fic is: a goddamn beautiful story. <33 Ooo, you're absolutely right. The Adami family definitely takes pride in their legacy of always producing strong, commanding Alphas, or at the least Betas. And we can also tie Aurelia being an omega to his mom's death... Like, his dad makes him think that if he were born an alpha there wouldn't have been complications at his birth, so his mom would still be alive. And I know Livia loves him, but you cannot tell me that low-key she doesn't see him as her inferior because he is an omega. Classic, cheesy, who care? If it ain't broke, don't fix it. I got an idea... Ok, so Aurelia has been abusing inhibitors his whole life, so maybe he's never had a heat. So when he's alone with Spadi (maybe the ep with the mud baths) his supressants stop working for some reason (cough*fallinginlove*cough) and he gets his first one. And normally omegas can power through, but since he's supressed them for so long, it hits him as if he's having all the heats he missed. It's angsty af because it hurts him mentally and physically. Spadi doesn't know at first what's going on, but when he figures it out, he's afraid Aurelia might die. So yada yada, some denial later, they hook up. And of course Aureliano gets knocked up because the universe loves to fuck with them. And he doesn't tell Spadi because he's emotionally constipated and also so deep in the closet he has the right to vote in fucking Narnia. Which makes everything that happens in ep 9 sooo much worse. :') OH GOD, YOU'RE BIRLLIANT!! OF COURSE THEIR DAUGHTER WOULD BE RUBINA, OF COURSE!! also, in true wlw/mlm solidarity, Spadi and Angelica are each other's beards for Aureliano and Nadia. *Me, someone who refuses the last episode of the show because I don't have the emotional stability*: Ok, but what if we take the finale... and make it a THOUSAND TIMES WORSE?? 👀 At one point he wishes he would go numb, but Aure dying in his arms always hurts, no matter how many times it has happened before. And of course Spadi would blame himself, because he always sees any bad thing that happens as his fault (i hate his family so so much). And obviously the way out of the time loop is him finally accepting that the faith of the world is not on his shoulders and he deserves to be happy. But Aureliano needs to convince him of it once he starts also remembering the loop, which... easier said than done. Ooooh, now WHY would you do this to me??? Yes, sure.... let's add the angst of Aure dying in tears because he knows how much pain he is causing Spadi with each iteration, why not?? "But Spadì is almost praying that it’s not, because he can’t imagine any timeline where Aurelia isn’t by his side"-- *reads this*... *immediately starts building time machine so I can go back to kindegarten and stop my teacher from teaching me how to read* This is horrible... thank you <333 Awww, thank you!! High praise, coming from a genius such as yourself. 😌 OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD!! YOU'RE STARTED WRITING IT, OH MY GOD!!! ILYSM 😳  duuude, lmfaooo.... istg i have a gift/curse because... for real, all my internet friends have at least once started writing insane/feral fics because of some idea I implanted into their heads :))) Good luck with the story!! I can't wait to see what you come up with. <33

Asksbfkdk I definitely would not say it's one of best English language fics for suburra, I mean, have you READ some of them??? Suburra fic writers go hard lol

Oh the mud baths being where it all starts is so good....... OR.... Hear me out, after Lele's death. When Aurelia has that heart to heart with Spadino about how he doesn't want to loose him. All those feelings he's repressed come bubbling up to the surface and his heat kicks in? Absolute disaster. Truth be told its just because I love Aurelia with the wing tattoos and beard the best, and that'd how I like to imagine him when I'm reading/writing.

*he's so deep in the closet he has voting rights in Naria* lmao yes he does. The poor sweet boy.

Oh OH but imagine if it did start at the mud baths, and then the 'hook up' could happen when Spadì kisses him for the first time (backseat, parking lot hook-up that leads to pregnancy?? It's so perfect in a slightly nasty way)

Season three finale? We don't know her lol we also can't forget the obvious time loop where Spadino sacrifices himself at the junkyard instead of Aurè. And IMAGINE if thats the loop where Aurelia starts to remember things...!!!

Also a scene where our poor Spadì gets drunk because he can't take it anymore, and spills everything to Aurelia

"No matter what I do it always ends the same way, where I'm on that fucking boat and you're dead in my arms!"

It's definitely quite the endeavor to write that's for sure, but the idea is just SO GOOD and there's so much room for perfect angst and hurt/comfort

I probably have to go rewatch the last couple of episodes to get the timeline right so I know where to diverge the plot.

[missluckycharms]

What is grief, if not love persevering?

Anon asked: heyyy! i love your writing sm💕 can you write angst please? make it hurt☹

Masterlist.

Summary: in which Harry is a single Dad due to losing his wife five years ago just shortly after their little love was born. Y/N has been there through it all. Harry has a rough night filled with whiskey and tears for his late wife.

A/N: this one is full of Angst and light hearted jokes to not get you too sad … sorry in advance, it’s a real tear jerker. Enjoy!!

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death, talks of alcohol and drug abuse, talks of depression and very low mental health, curse words.

—

Five years.

It’s been five years since the passing of Myla Styles, the woman who granted Harry a wish he always wanted, the woman who loved him beyond all the galaxies and the woman who never saw any wrong in anyone, not even the worst of people, she always used to say “deep down, their heart is just aching” and Harry always admired that about her, she always looked on the positive side of life.

She held that same attitude as he held her hand in the hospital room, her fragile and pale body laying on the white bed as she peered up at him, oxygen tube in her nostrils and too many machines to count hooked up to her body, she was a shell of a woman, but she still had a heart of gold, the same hear Harry fell in love with when they were sixteen years of age. He hated seeing her this way, especially when their nearly one week old baby was resting in his other arm, fast asleep as her Mum clung to every bit of life she had left, but not once did her smile fade.

It all happened so fast, one day she was pushing life into the world and eight days later her life was being taken out of this world. There was complications with birth, the doctors and nurses finding undiagnosed ovarian cancer in her ovaries when they had to send her in for an emergency c section. Myla confessed she felt off, her body didn’t feel right, but she knew if something was seriously wrong, she wouldn’t risk the life of her baby getting treatment, she would rather her baby live over her. Doctors and nurses tried their best, trying to refer her to new hospitals to get stronger chemo if she wanted, but Myla refused, she told them to let her go, she was tired and she couldn’t stick around long enough to see if these treatments would work — she knew she was dying but Harry refused to believe it.

The day she left, was the day Harry felt like his whole world stopped, like the curtains were shut and he was left in a dark room with no way out. He promised Myla he would do his best to take care of their love, who they named Honey. He was dealing with the loss, Honey taking his mind off it a little and giving him reasons to pull himself from bed even on the days when he wanted to lay around and wallow in his own darkness — she pulled him out of those days, but two months later it all came crashing down on top of him.

He slipped into a wrong mind set, immediately knowing that Honey had to be taken away from him because he was living in fear he would hurt her, one day he woke up and he looked at her and just cried, he held her and he felt nothing, he didn’t even sympathise with her when she would cry for food, he felt nothing towards Honey and this scared him, terribly. Anne, his Mum took Honey in, letting Harry to relax and blow off some steam and get some help, his and Myla’s family all agreeing and saying he needed help and it wasn’t something to be ashamed about — he just lost his wife, they can’t lose him either.

Harry took the wrong route of clearing his mind and getting help, he found his therapy at the end of a bottle and a line of cocaine. He slipped into an endless spiral of week long benders and debts for drug money along with risking losing his home due to him quitting his high up job at his Fathers Law firm, he completely crashed and burned, he couldn’t live without her, he couldn’t stop his mind racing and the only way for it all to stop, and let him feel numb — was when he was drunk and high, passing out in every room of his home and in his garden, the neighbours finding him sometimes in their yard in a mess. They were the ones who got him help, they called up his family and they all rushed him off in an ambulance to get him sober and conscious again. Here is where he made the decision to sign himself into rehab, accepting the help the hospital offered and a few months later, he was out and clean, he stayed with his Mum until Honey turned one and that was the year Harry found his smile again, found his life and purpose again.

Looking back now, he doesn’t know how he ever made himself believe it was Honeys fault Myla was no longer here, he doesn’t know how he’s even alive because of all the drugs and alcohol he ingested every single night for three months solid, but he knows why everything turned around, it was his Angel looking down on him, guiding him and kicking him in the ass to get up and look after their little love, just like she asked him to do before she left, always look after himself and Honey.

It’s been five years since her passing, Harry is doing better than ever, he started working for his Dad’s company again and now he’s the president of the law firm, alongside his Dad who is the CEO, Harry being second in command and then being the CEO when his Dad retires from the firm. They kept their family home, even if it was just the two of them, they loved the home and it still felt like Myla was living here, her makeup still tucked away in her unused vanity in Harrys bedroom and her favourite paintings still hung up around the home. Harry even hired a nanny, she has been working for him for two years now, she’s even working alongside Harry in his office being his receptionist during the day and she’s Honeys afternoon and night nanny when she’s done in work and Honey is home from school.

Y/N is Honeys nanny, she takes care of the little lady and feeds her daily, even taking her to the playground and to the movies when Honey asked her could she go. She would do anything for Honey and Honey loved her endlessly, she loved the way she would allow her to eat sneaky chocolate bars after dinner every now and then and how she would always play dollies with her, kneeling down on the floor of the den and playing with the small girl until they were both in fits of laughter. Harry also adored Y/N, her passion for her job at the law firm along with her passion for looking after Honey is something he admires, she never once complains about being exhausted even though he can tell when she is, she didn’t have to think twice when Harry offered her the job as Honeys nanny, she knew the little one from her being in the office every now and then, and Honey was instantly drawn to her, the way she was so kind and the way she cared for Honey.

Tonight is a hard night for Harry, it’s Myla’s death anniversary and he’s been having a bad day, his mind racing and his heart breaking all over again, but this time he’s stronger, he’s able to power through until he could be alone and just let his emotions go, have a glass of whiskey and just cry a little flipping through old photo albums — he does this every year on her anniversary. Honey is tucked up in bed and he’s sat alone in the den on the sofa, the photo albums on his lap and his hand clutching a small glass of whiskey as he sips on it flipping through many photos from their wedding and from when they were teens and drunk in love in high school — so many memories can be attached to one person, and Harry knew one day they would be memories, but he didn’t know it would be so soon.

“Honey is fast asleep, left her door cracked open so she can shout if she- Harry? Are you okay?” Y/N stops suddenly, her eyes landing on her boss who was hunched over a photo album on the sofa, curtains drawn and the only light coming from a lamp beside a framed wedding photo of him and Myla on the table by the sofa.

“Yeah, thanks for putting her to sleep” Harry says weakly, not turning around which alarms Y/N, she’s seen him like this last year, she let him be as she was only new to it, but this year she’s determined to sit with him all night if he needs — he needs to have some company.

“That’s you?” She asks sitting next to him, Harry not moving or telling her to leave, he accepts her company as she looks down at the photo his eyes are laid upon — two teenagers at a party.

“Yeah, m’hair was a curly mess” he says with a low laugh, looking over the photo of a seventeen year old version of himself, smiling cheekily clutching a red solo cup and Myla wrapped under his other arm holding him around his waist, both their smiles wide and cheeky and their cheeks flushed pink from the alcohol in their bodies.

“I think it looks cute, pitty it’s not as curly now” she says with a light laugh, watching as his ring clad fingers turn the page, taking a sip from his whiskey as he goes.

“This was our prom, she made me wear a pink fucking bow tie — absolutely hated it” he laughs, the crinkles by his eyes evident as Y/N laughs along, looking down at the curly headed teenager in a black suit, white shirt and a bright pink bow tie, matching Myla’s floor length dress next to him, a shawl over her shoulders matching as the corsage around her wrist match the pink of her dress also.

“She hated that dress a year later, she was packing up for college and I was helping her when she found it, immediately burst out laughing” he says laughing loudly, remembering back at the memory he has, Y/N beside him happy at how joyful he sounds speaking of the memories.

“Oh here we go, Frat boy Harry!” Y/N says with a loud laugh, pointing down at a shirtless twenty year old Harry, backwards cap on his head and “Myla’s Bitch!” Wrote on his stomach in paint, two beer bottles in his hands and Myla on his shoulders cheering with her hands up in a red bikini, matching his swimming trunks and baseball cap.

“Some of the best years of m’life, raging parties and no more curfews, we were two hormonal teens absolutely smitten for one another” he says shaking his head with a laugh, his eyes bright as he flicks them over the photos ranging from Harry dancing, Myla being pushed into the pool by him and Harry passed out with a mustache drawn on him with Myla next to him holding the marker with a bright smile mid laughter.

The book is filled with their college days, to their graduation day from college, their photo in their first apartment, Harry on his first day of work and Myla on hers. They took photos of small things, but at the time they meant the world to them, they were milestones in their lives and they never wanted to forget them. Harry is forever grateful that Myla had an obsession with photography, otherwise he wouldn’t have these to look back on and hopefully show Honey one day what her Mum was like, even if she’s drunk and half naked in some of them at college parties.

Harry and Y/N are in fits of laughter, tears falling from their faces as Harry explains every single memory behind each photo, one photo containing a memory of Myla at her bachelorette party, Harry coming out as a stripper and giving her a lap dance as she slaps his ass and throws money all over her husband — that one will definitely not be shown to Honey. Harry is like a whole different person when he speaks about her, his laugh becomes louder and his eyes become brighter, he even ditched his whiskey after one glass to speak about his late wife, Y/N looking at him with pure amazement and proudness of how far he’s come, how he pulled himself from a hard time and carried on life for the sake of his baby girl. He’s truly inspirational in her eyes.

“It should be easier than this by now, right? Like I shouldn’t be still grieving” he says when their laughs and stories come to a stop, their eyes hooded with sleep and faces hurting from laughing.

“What is grief, if not love persevering? You were both childhood sweethearts, you’ve loved her since you can remember and you always will, she’s your whole world, of course you’ll still grieve her, you still love her, and that’s okay” Y/N blurts out, her words quick as she blabs on while Harry watches her, a smile on his face as she explains and accepts his feelings.

“Never knew you were Shakespeare” is all he says, she rolls her eyes laughing, slapping his bicep a little as he shuts the album, tucking it away in the drawer again before turning his focus back onto Y/N beside him.

“Seriously though, never tell yourself you’ve been grieving for too long, it’s okay to grieve and cry yourself to sleep some nights, I get that, I do. You lost a person who made you who you are, but don’t forget, you still have a little one that will need you to be the person who makes her who she is”

Harry thinks she’s amazing, she’s smart and she’s so empathetic towards everyone and anyone. She has a heart of gold and she will never let anyone explain hers or anyone else’s feelings for them, she always allows people to express who they are, heck, one night she brought Harry to a gym after hours, explaining how her brother is a trainer there and he gave her the keys on the condition that she does his laundry for a month, she let Harry rage out and punch the shit out of a punching bag one night because he was so upset. She cheered him on and he was smiling as he was punching towards the end, she helped him release the emotions that built up and would of lead him back down a dark path.

She’s been an Angel sent from above, he knows Myla sent her to him because of how much they’re alike, Harry knows for sure they were sisters in a past life, their kind hearts and understanding natures alike but they have their differences, Myla was very out spoken and loved to party but Y/N is reserved and would rather stay inside with a hot chocolate and her crosswords while watching TV, but that’s another thing that Harry finds fascinating about her, she’s younger than him by eight years, when he was her age he was partying.

“Thank you Y/N, I needed this tonight” he says with a smile, her own smile on her face as she nods leaning over to rub her hand over his in a comforting manner, the pair looking at one another as they soak in their presences.

“It’s getting late, I should go” she says realising it’s nearly midnight, Harry and her need to be in work tomorrow morning and Harry has to wake up to get his little lady ready for school also. He gets a bit saddened when she says this, he secretly wants to hear more of her own college years and her own prom much like he told her earlier.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow” he says with a smile, watching as she gathers up her bag and throws it over her shoulder, car keys now in her hand as she smiles at him once more before heading for the den door. She pauses and looks back at him, his eyes meeting hers as they hold contact for a few seconds before she speaks up.

“See you tomorrow, Harry”

[bubblegumbeech]

The Librarian’s Trick

Day one Ectoberhaunt: Trick or Treat

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34213519

 1:

 Wes was certain this Cassius guy was a ghost. He had to be. Humans didn’t live on the outskirts of town in large decrepit clock towers that Wes was      pretty sure didn’t exist last week    .

 Humans didn’t have red eyes and white hair (unless they had a condition called Albinoism, Wes had looked it up. But Albinoism      also     meant they had no melanin      anywhere    and Cassius Dark was decidedly tan in an admittedly attractive but decidedly not Albino kind of way)

 Humans didn’t have fangs when they smiled but normal teeth whenever Wes tried to point out that      He had FANGS. They were right there!!!  

 Humans didn’t spend all their time either with Danny Fenton (who was Also very much a ghost!! Which should be in the list of proof but no one believes it so it’s seperate but still!) or mysteriously absent.

 And humans didn’t seem to know everything all the time but talk like a bad astrology website.

 So Wes was going to find a way to prove it.

 His first try had him sneaking a “ghost translator” he didn’t remember the stupid name Fenton’s dad called it when he bought it with his allowance, into the library where Cassius Dark supposedly worked.

 Supposedly, because while he could be found there, Wes had never actually seen him doing anything other than reading. And it was never a book Wes recognized, like, he wasn’t reading the Twilight series or anything. The last book Wes saw had been a large ancient looking tome written in a language Wes didn’t recognize. But Everytime he tried (subtly! He was super nonchalant about it!) to take a picture it ended up blurry!! And No Kyle, it wasn’t because he was      bad at taking photos    .

 But that didn’t matter because Wes had a different plan now. He was going to use the Fentons’ new version of their “ghost translator” thing, and see what happened. It was supposed to be both a translator and a truth decoder at the same time. So no matter what a ghost said, the device should say what they actually mean. Or something.

 With Danny, a bunch of innocuous stuff went off around him, but people always hand waved it as faulty tech. Wes wasn’t sure that was the case, in fact he was positive it wasn’t. But if he could get something useful to build up from, that would be a good start. And every good reporter needed a start.

 He stepped up to the Library’s front desk, where Cassius was sitting reading what was      clearly     a spell tome if the different summoning pentagrams in the open page Wes could see were anything to go by.

 “Welcome Young Weston,” Cassius said, the hint of a smile hidden behind his red eyes as he closed his book. Wes could swear they were glowing slightly. Geez did this guy get his ‘how to pretend to be human’ classes from      Fenton    ?

 … that would certainly explain why no one ever believed Wes, since that was a long beaten dead horse in his closet.

 He, very discreetly, had the device hooked up to one of his earphones, which he kept in one of his ears like any normal less than perfectly mannered teenager as he asked Cassius Dark his questions.

 “Excuse me sir? Do you work here?” he started with, it was a more or less innocuous question and one he actually wanted the answer to.

 Cassius Dark smiled. “I do.”

 My Job is all that was, is, and shall be. That which I set as my goal is beyond mortal comprehension and those I call master shall fall to my machinations. But yes, I get paid for sitting at this desk and answering questions sometimes. I am a ghost, fear me.

 Wes tried not to sweat too obviously. What the fuck?

 “Can you tell me where the journalism section is?” Wes decided to make a tactical retreat, at least his voice didn’t crack.

 “Straight back for eight shelves and then turn right. It’s next to the Non-fiction books.”

 I know what you’re looking for, I know why you are here. I know the exact time of your death and what will happen next. Your efforts amuse me though. I am a ghost, fear me.

 What Wes did next was not      exactly     fleeing. But it wasn’t      not     fleeing either.

 He’d have to try something else.

 2:

 The next thing he wanted to try was a bit riskier. If you thought about it a certain way. But it also wasn’t if you thought about it the way Wes did.

 He was going to use a phase-proof net.

 Genius, because unlike the translator machine thing, it would actually stop the ghost from attacking Wes if it got angered. Which it would, probably, since Wes was throwing a net at it.

 The plan was really simple though, he’d gotten a very large net, paid extra for the little aim thing, practiced half a billion times of his brothers before they went to the parents and got him grounded for a week, and then memorized the path Cassius Dark took in the mornings to go to his “job” at the library.

 Right now he was hiding in one of the leafier trees, right above the path that Cassius always used, waiting.

 And waiting.

 And…      waiting.  

 Honestly he was about to go home and was fairly certain this guy was going to be like, super late to work, when he finally appeared.

 Wes wasted no time aiming, making sure the trajectory was absolutely perfect, and firing the net off. He was just about to jump in celebration, watching the net as it curled slightly around its target, but before it could hit and wrap around him, Cassius was suddenly not there.

 Or he was, but just a little bit to the left, so that the net sailed harmlessly past.

 Wes cursed.

 3:

 The third one was fool proof. It had to be.

 Which was why Wes was staring at a large conspiracy board, covered in paparazzi-esque shots of the librarian and random notes he’d taken, all connected with a dizzying amount of red string.

 “Kyle, seriously. I need to figure out what kind of ghost he is or he’s always going to have the upper hand!!”

 Kyle just rolled his eyes and continued playing his video game, as if he didn’t care that Wes had set up his very important planning and plotting in the middle of the living room so long as it didn’t interfere with his own plans.

 “It has to be pretty powerful, he was able to dodge my net before it even touched him. And the translator thing clearly said ‘my goal is beyond comprehension’ or something,” Wes mused, “and he also said his job was like, everything?”

 Wes checked his notes, “yeah, ‘all that is was and shall be’. What could he mean by that?”

 His very annoying and clearly not taking this as seriously as he should brother just chuckled. “I don’t know Wes, maybe he can see the future?”

 That… no. That’s way too OP. Just the thought of it sent a shiver down Wes’ spine. There was no way a ghost could see the future right?

 Right?

 He had to test this theory.

 But how do you even test something like that?

 “Kyle, how would you test if someone could see the future?”

 “Throw something at the back of their head and see if they dodge?” He answered way too quickly.

 Wes thought about it for a moment. “No, what if they just have really good reflexes?”

 “Oh huh, I guess that could be true. No idea then.” He shrugged and Wes had to fight the urge to throw something at the back of      his    head.

 Whatever. He had to make plans.

 He’d tried just throwing things. It was risky, and kind of terrifying, but Kyle was right it      was     the first that came to mind.

 But Cassius never dodged. He was always just, not where Wes thought he was. Or Wes had      really bad aim,    which he didn’t!!! He was a basketball ace!! He had great aim! And great situational awareness!!

 So why couldn’t he hit Cassius Dark?

 Obviously it was because he could see the future. And the smug smile he always had when he knew Wes was looking reminded him an awful lot of a certain other Phantom.

 4:

 Ask him about his family.

 Easy enough. Especially without the Fenton’s weird translator because that might have been a bit terrifying. And also this time he had back up.

 He dragged Kyle by his sleeve into the library.

 “Mr. Cassius!”

 Cassius looked up from his book, removing the delicate reading glasses balanced on his nose. “Can I help you Mr. Weston?”

 “Yes!” He smiled broadly, taking out a small notebook that he had used to take notes on the suspicious and ghoulish things going on around town until it was mostly shreds of paper. “I’m writing an OP ED on the town library, and would like to know more about the librarian. Can you answer a few personal questions?”

 Kyle snorted and Wes had to elbow him in the side to get him to shut up. He was here as back up, not to ruin his plan.

 “So,” he began, “is Cassius a family name?”

 “No.”

 Wes nodded. And then frowned. Did ghosts have families? Supposedly they were alive once right? At least that was the general idea, Wes thought.

 “So what can you tell us about your parents? Like, what’s your father’s name?”

 Cassius raised an eyebrow, and had a soft smile filled with good humor. Wes felt it hit him like a threat. What was this ghost hiding?

 Well, other than the fact that he’s a ghost.

 “I can’t tell you much I’m afraid. My mother is long gone and I never had a father.”

 Kyle grimaced and elbowed Wes himself before saying, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

 “It’s no matter,” Cassius replied, still smiling, “I may yet see her again.”

 Ah, so either she wasn’t dead or he’s convinced she became a ghost too. That made sense. It could be his unfinished business as they say among the paranormal hunters. At least, the not fight-y and crazy ones.

 “So Dark was your mother’s name?” Wes asked, wondering if he could maybe find any records on her where he had failed to find them on Cassius himself.

 The smile slid right off his face. Wes and Kyle both felt the subtle chill in the air as Cassius leaned back and looked off to the side, as if to glare at something that wasn’t there. “No, I’m afraid Dark is my ex-husband’s name.”

 “Why keep it?” Kyle asked, completely ignoring the danger of the situation.

 The smile came back, except this time instead of soft and barely there as if he were indulging a child, it was sharp and twisted. He chuckled at an inside joke no one else in the room would ever understand and then he said, “Well, it’s not like      he     has any use for it now.”

 Wes paled. Had he killed his husband?!

 5:

 After a hasty retreat from the library Wes treated Kyle to a milkshake and fries at the nasty burger just as he had promised. Payment for going along with his ‘weird ghost theories’.

 But Wes couldn’t eat, he was too busy thinking. This one actually helped! He found information about the ghost’s previous life! He had a mother, but not a father, and had a husband.

 With the current politics it was one of two options. Either he was from a previous culture that allowed men to marry each other, or he was a more recent ghost than Wes had been expecting. He had already taken out his laptop and was scrolling through obituaries with the surname Dark, trying to think if he knew any off the top of his head that might have been in town when they died.

 Nothing particular came to mind.

 Wes’ thinking was interrupted by a loud, obnoxious slurping noise from his brother. He shot him a glare, but Kyle didn’t react. Wasn’t even looking at him. Instead he was looking out the window and watching one of the daily ghost attacks with Phantom playing hero as always.

 “You know, it’s kinda cool that they’re hiring actors to build the town’s lore like that,” he said, clearly ignoring the obvious evidence of ghosts right outside his window.

 “What the      hell     are you talking about?” Wes groaned, rubbing at his eyes. He needed coffee or something, it was a shame the Nasty Burger only served sludge no sane person would drink.

 Kyle finally looked away from the window, his eyes wide as if      he     was the one confused. “You know, how they got the librarian to say he was married to Pariah Dark? And then imply he’s the reason he’s a ghost?”

 Wes felt like the seat underneath him had suddenly disappeared. “Where did you get      That    from?!”

 “He said his ex-husband was named Dark! Pariah Dark’s Ghost Zone show is the first thing that comes to mind!” Kyle argued back. “Isn’t it?”

 Holy shit this guy was married to the ghost king.

 He thought back to the ominous answers he’d gotten that first day from the Fentons’ translator. Maybe he should leave this one alone.

 +1

 Wes was at the library, studying quietly and absolutely avoiding the librarian. Not that he’d seen him today, but it didn’t hurt to keep his head down. With any luck the guy had a short memory and would forget Wes had been trying to find a way to out him to the town.

 A portal ripped from the air in front of him, sending a static energy throughout the library and causing Wes’ hair to stand on end. It was a swirling purple, deeper and more… well      more     than most of the natural portals that Wes had seen appear around town.

 He wanted to scream, but years of living in Amity Park had fully trained that out of him. Screaming was the number one way to get a ghost locked on you as their first target. Especially if you were there when the portal opened.

 Before Wes could even think to duck under the table he was using a figure stepped out of the portal, poised and composed. He had a deep purple hood that seemed to swirl with the fabric of galaxies and a large ornate clock embedded into his chest. His skin was a rich blue and he had glowing red eyes.

 Wes recognized him immediately.

 “Oh, hello Mr. Weston, is there something I can help you with?” Cassius Dark asked.

[novemberandmay]

As She Falls

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Her wings pointed to the sky as she was pulled into Earth’s gravity. Her limbs were also pointed up, except for her head and torso. She watched as clouds passed her, the rough wind trying to crush her non-existent body into molecules. Even though she wasn’t in her physical body, she could still feel the wind? How weird. But she was uncaring of this, as she crashed into her hospital room. She could finally see how her body was, after all this time. She looked at it, finding her body looking pathetic. It was thin, overly thin, and covered in bandages. She was hooked up to so many machines, it was a miracle she was still alive. But while observing this, she heard the door in front of her open. Glancing up at it, she saw something surprising.

“Chloe? What are you doing here?” She asked, shocked. But she didn’t get an answer, since she didn’t have vocal cords or a way to voice her thoughts. Chloe stood in the door way, her expression pained. She started to mumble things, things that didn’t make sense. Chloe seemed crazy and possessed at that moment, but it didn’t matter to Marinette. She raised her hand to try and get Chloe’s attention but was covered in light. She was forced into the older girl’s body, into the girl’s very soul.

When she opened her eyes, the light had make her close them earlier, she was surprised to see a little girl in a hotel’s lobby. She was gripping a teddy bear, but seemed upset, maybe a tad sad. The girl stayed still for what seemed like days before she turned around and passed through Marinette. The girl stormed out of the room, tears leaving her angry expression. Marinette ran after the girl, finally recognizing her as Chloe. She found the girl again in a hotel room, where items around her seemed broken. Then a door sounded behind her and worried screams rang out. As this happened, everything warped and twirled, ‘til she saw  her Chloe, the teenaged Chloe. She was sitting on a couch, her expression somber. This time, though, she could see that Chloe was able to spot her. As she had glanced over at her.

“Chloe? What’s happening? Are you okay? Do I-?”

“How pathetic, Dupain-Cheng even haunts my dreams. Great.”

“What? This isn’t a dream Chloe! I’am really here, I’m fin-“ Chloe’s crazied laugh sprang out, startling Marinette.

“No need to lie, you illusion. I saw her dead body myself, I know she’s not alive. Not anymore.”

“But I’m fine Chloe! I’m just fi-“

“SHUT UP!” Chloe screamed, throwing a teacup at Marinette’s face. It hit her, causing blood to stream down her face. Chloe stormed up to her, her rage filled expression being the main focus. The blonde girl raised her finger up and pointed at her, her elbows bent.

“NOW YOU LISTEN HERE! MARINETTE IS DEAD. SH-she left me. SHE’S JUST LIKE EVERYONE ELSE! LEAVING ME AT THEIR BEST CONVENIENCE!! JUS-just like mama. She’s ju-just like her-r.” Her screams became stutters as her voice became pathetic. Marinette’s eyes softened and she reached her hands around Chloe, hugging her tightly. Chloe started to sob, falling to her knees, bring Marinette down with her.

“WH-why?! WHY am I noT ENOUGH?!?! WhY-“

It was hours before the emotions inside her seized, leaving her feeling empty.

“I’m sorry Chloe. I promise I won’t leave you again.”

“Y-you promise?”

“I promise Chloe. I swear that I will wake up and you won’t be alone.”

As they hugged tighter, everything went white.

She was suddenly transported back to the hotel room, where she was not alone. On the ground, holding her hand, was Jon. He was sobbing, and looked as if he would collapse into a coma soon.

“Oh Jon! What happened?”

There was no response as she looked over his shoulder, he just kept crying. She laid her hand on the boy’s shoulder, where the familiar bright light surrounded her.

This time, she was alone in a house. But there was noise some where, it sounded pained. She rushed around, opening doors left and right until she found the cause. Jon.

She found Jon huddled in a corner of a kid’s room, sniffling. Her face lost it’s tension, as she sat beside him. She was ready to hear his tale.

“Did you know I can always tell when someone lies to me? That everyone does it a lot? Even ma’ and pa’ lie to me. Only you and Dames don’t lie that much, at least not to me. You tell me when you can’t tell me something, you try to be honest. But now you’re gone. And now Damian lies. No one tells me anything true anymore...”

“But it’s fine. It’s just like before I knew Dames! I can handle it...I hope. I’m used to you both being honest, so I don’t know if I can handle it now. So much has changed, some much is different...why can’t it go back to before you jumped? Everything was okay then- I could fix it! I could help you, I could at least try. But reality doesn’t work that way, right? Yeah. So I can’t save you, I can only imagine that in my wildest fantasies. Did ya’ know I used to think of you and Dames as my parents for a bit? I know you aren’t, but I just wanted to imagine it. Having a mum that’s not running off to get the latest catch, one that comforts me. Having a pa’ that’s not off saving the world every 5 seconds, but is beside me, even if a little reluctantly. But who cares? I’m just being ungrateful! I mean- who else wouldn’t want Superman as their dad? And Lois Lane, the famous and renowned reporter, as their mom? If anyone else knew of my position, they would want it! So why? Why don’t I want to be their child? Why do I want to be normal? To not tell when someone’s lying? I know it’s wrong and I’m just being ungrateful, but-“

“Jon.”

“...”

“Listen to me. Nothings wrong with you. I would love to be your mum, and I’m glad you think that way. It’s not bad to feel this way. Your emotions are valid. You are valid. I love you, I love you so, so much. So please, don’t think this way. I’ll be your mom, I’ll be anyone you want me to be, okay? ‘Cus I love you. I love you like a mother would love their son.”

Marinette raises Jon’s hand to her chest, smiling at him.

“See? I’m not lying, am I? I promise to never lie to you, no matter what.”

Jon stares at her, tears gathering in his eyes. His mouth twitches, he looked pained, sad.

“MAMAAA!” He screamed at her, lunging at her. He gather her into a hug, sobbing. He cried, cried for hours. He wouldn’t let her go, as he collapsed on to her. He cried into her hair, as she pat his back. Marinette hugged him back, caring for him like a mother would.

“...thank you..” Jon mumbled. Marinette only smiled in return, watching as he faded away. She looked up and reached for the sky, a bright light covering her. It felt right. She felt happy.

Marinette appeared back in the hospital room, now with a new person.

‘Damian?’

He said nothing as he grabbed her human body’s hand. His face was remorseful and sorrowful, his scowl now including tears and forced look. He was holding back sadness, she could tell. She wouldn’t let this continue though, so she walked up to him. She stopped right beside him standing straight. She bent over, and reached for his shoulders. She gave him one last hug in this form, before zipping into his body, ready for her next conformation.

Taglist: @miraculous-ninja @rebecarojas07 @toodaloo-kangaroo @solangelo252  @neakco @dood-space @jjmjjktth  @animeweebgirl @nickristus-dreamer @talushi2002 @miraculouslydumb @stellar-star @myazael @crystalangelluna 

Notes: I know it’s a bit rushed, but I just had to finish the idea as soon as I thought it. Hope you liked it! The taglist is open, and prolly will always be, just so you know. I’ve had a great day today, I took my NWEA and made an amazing score, so I’m proud. So are my friends, like May. Anyways, I got off topic, have a nice day y’all! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it! Till next time! Buh-bye!

(DIDNT MEAN TO POST IT WHEN I DID, OOPS)

-November

[petri808]

N4+Inukag Ex’s Still in Love @liz8080 its angst 🙃

It had been a year since the break up, but Inuyasha was no closer to moving on and according to his best friend, neither was Kagome. He only knew what his ex was going through because their best friends were caught in the middle and providing updates. Poor Miroku and Sango, Inuyasha was sure they thought he and Kagome were idiots by this point.

Not that it was from a lack of trying, because they both were trying... maybe a little too hard to start dating again. Inuyasha had tried the typical avenues like bar hopping and even posting a profile on dating sites. But if irony wasn’t such a bitch, every single site he tried would match him to none other than Kagome Higurashi. It was fate, Miroku would coax the idea onto his friend. Yeah, well fate didn’t have to deal with reality and they were two stubborn fools unwilling to relent.

At the bars, Inuyasha’s handsome hanyo looks gained a lot of attention and the night would always start off right. Every single woman in the place took a chance to talk to him. If he liked what he saw, he’d give them a shot to butter him up, lulling them in with his molten amber eyes. Flirty conversations and flowing alcohol made for... women making excuses and leaving him to walk out single. Every. Damn. Time. Because something always sparked his ex’s introduction to the conversation. It turned out once Inuyasha was past the tipsy stage, all he wanted to do was talk about Kagome. Good or bad. It didn’t matter and according to Miroku during one very drunken evening, he’d even cried. If it wasn’t for the blackmail video, he wouldn’t have believed it.

Okay fine! So he still loved the woman! They’d been together for seven years, that’s not something you just get over quickly! She wanted kids and he was hesitant... it wasn’t a no, but it wasn’t a yes. That’s when Kagome broke up with him.

Inuyasha swirled the drink in his hand with a low growl. “You know our world isn’t always safe,” he admonished his co-worker, a fellow Yokai named Kouga. “And she’s human, the child could be born human, and what if I can’t protect them both?”

“Stupid,” the Wolf yokai sneered back. “You’d lose the woman you love over fear? The Taisho’s son showing weakness, that’s pathetic.”

“Bite your tongue wolf. It’s not just about fear and you know it.”

“Yes, it is.” Kouga countered. “Modern times or not, that woman has spiritual blood coursing through her veins, so an offspring will most likely be a full hanyo. I suspect Kagome senses this, so it is your own fears that’s overruling you.”

“Tch, I didn’t come here for a lecture!” Inuyasha stood up from his bar stool. But as he turned to leave, his phone rang.

It was Miroku. “Something happened Inuyasha. Kagome was attacked on her way home by a yokai. No one knows who. She’s been taken to Shinkon Medical and she’s... in a coma.”

“What?!”

“It’s really bad, you should get here as soon as possible.”

Inuyasha doesn’t respond and quickly rushed out of the bar with Kouga hot on his heels.

“What’s going on?!” Kouga questioned.

“Something attacked Kagome.”

“Oh, fuck.” Kouga could see Inuyasha’s demon side manifesting, purple stripes along his cheeks and red eyes replacing gold. It must be serious.

When they arrived at the hospital, Miroku took them up to the room Kagome was in. Not that Inuyasha needed his help to track the woman’s scent, but thanks to Kouga’s steadfast hand in his shoulder, he stayed cognizant enough to follow quietly so as to not scare the staff. Sango stood just outside of the door ready for their arrival.

“Brace yourself Inu,” the woman warned, “she’s... it’s a miracle she’s still alive.”

He simply nodded shakily and walked through, leaving his friends to wait. There really was no way to brace himself for what he saw. Kagome was almost unrecognizable. She had tubes and wires hooked up to beeping machines that flashed her life on a screen. It was an unnerving sound in an otherwise deadly silent room. Her arms were all bandaged up, one leg in a cast with pins and metal sticking out, but her head... his fists clenched tighter. Her forehead was wrapped in gauze, face bruised and swollen, her nose and mouth with tubes coming out of them to keep her alive. Even in the dim lighting, he could see the blood, smelled the dried blood stuck in her hair.

It was his nightmares turned reality.

That’s when he smelt it, the lingering stench of a familiar panther yokai left on Kagome’s body. Had this been a targeted attack? Anger surged to the forefront. Inuyasha leaned down and took her hand gently while placing a soft kiss on her forehead. Regardless of reason, this yokai would pay dearly!

Inuyasha growled and sped off faster then any of his stunned friends could stop him, out of the hospital. Kouga called from behind in pursuit, but his demon side had taken over and nothing could stop him. He leapt over buildings, speeding through alleyways before humans could even register what had passed them by. There was no way to know exactly where the rogue could be, but he had a territory to start in.

The panther yokai had always hated the inu’s reign over the central part of Japan. They fought and lost an epic battle during the edo period, forever retaining a grudge. But this was a brazen attack, the first since those long ago days, and on a human?! It was unforgivable. It was because of the inu’s control that the human world was safe from the yokai inhabiting it. Most of the other’s, like Kouga’s wolf clan fell in line without any problems, and peace remained. Oh, this panther will pay dearly for trying to kill the chosen mate of the Inu no Taisho’s son!! This wasn’t the first time the two men will clash, but it will be the last.

From a rooftop, Inuyasha perched as he quickly scanned the dock area. The yokai was alone. Perfect. With a deep roar, he dropped down on top of the male before it could take off. Claws and fangs unhinged as the two males battled. Despite being a hanyo, Inuyasha’s blood was no different than a full-blooded yokai, and worse, his adrenaline and anger was without remorse due to the bloodied images of his girl lying in a hospital bed to fuel his rage. If there were any humans in this desolate part of town at night, it must have sounded like the unholy blood bath it was.

Over and over, Inuyasha tore his claws and teeth into the panther yokai’s flesh. Though he sustained some injuries of his own, Inuyasha felt nothing but the pure hatred coursing through his veins. Kouga had finally arrived as well, his screams to his friend to stop, deaf in his ears. His blood lust had taken control.

“Stop!!” Kouga roared and jumped onto Inuyasha’s back. He hooked his arms around both of his friends shoulders, lifting, and wrapping his hands behind the man’s head to restrain them from moving freely. Inuyasha thrashed hard against the hold, but Kouga refused to let go, continuously growling at the man to stop resisting. “You’re gonna kill him!”

“He deserves it!” Inuyasha countered.

“Agreed! But that’s not for you to decide my friend, so stop! He’s done!”

“Let me go Kouga!”

“Only if you’ll stop resisting. Think about Kagome, idiot! I’ll take the panther to your father for punishment, you need to get back to her!”

At hearing Kagome’s name, the human side of Inuyasha began taking back control from his inner demon. Kouga was right. If they were caught like this by authorities, being thrown in jail for murder would do her no good. Inuyasha let out a long exhale as his body slowly transformed back to normal, and he slumped in his friends arms. “You’re right.”

“I know I am, idiot.” Kouga let him go. “Now get out of here, and make sure you clean up! You don’t wanna scare the hospital people to death!”

“Yeah, yeah,” the hanyo growled, though he appreciated his friends help. “Tell my dad what’s going on and I’ll contact him as soon as I can.”

“Will do.”

It didn’t take him long to get back to his own house to clean up, and it was only then did Inuyasha realize just how far he’d gone that night. What little of his clothes was left undamaged was soaked in the blood of the panther yokai. He threw it all away and showered the filth from his body, then bandaged his wounds as best he could. By morning they’ll probably be healed, but with the adrenaline gone, the pain had also kicked in. He’d still do it all again in a heartbeat.

When he shambled back to the hospital, of course Miroku and Sango were concerned with his appearance. He assuaged their worries before flopping painfully into a chair at Kagome’s bedside.

“The doctors say she has stabled,” Sango explained now that he had time to listen. “But the shock has left her in a coma, so now we can only wait for her to wake up...” the woman paused, “there’s a small chance, Kagome may never wake up.”

Inuyasha shook his head refusing to entertain such a suggestion. “She’s strong, I know she will,” he spoke even though inside he wasn’t so sure. He just needed to hear those words of reassurance.

“You’re right.” Sango agreed. “We think so too.”

“Hang in there.” Miroku patted the hanyo’s shoulder. “We’ll be back in the morning to check on you.”

“Thanks,” Inuyasha nodded weakly.

Now that he was there, the couple left him alone, safe in the knowledge that no one would bother Kagome anymore. So, at the sound of the door closing behind him, the full weight of emotions engulfed Inuyasha. The guilt tore away at what little sanity held him together. He blamed himself for her state. If he hadn’t been so stupid and stubborn to leave her alone, that panther would never have dared to strike at Kagome. She was strong, but couldn’t have fended off a surprise attack by herself.

“I’m so sorry,” the tears broke free as he held her hand tightly in his own. “Please don’t leave me, Kagome. I’ll do anything! You want kids? I’ll give you all the pups you desire, just please come back to me. I can’t— I can’t lose you. It shouldn’t have taken something like this to make me realize that I’m nothing without you.”

Inuyasha thought the pain of losing his mother at a young age was hard, but this was a thousand times worse. His soul was bonded to Kagome by choice and his heart felt shattered at the thought of never hearing her voice again. If she died, a piece of him would die along with her.

Night turned to day, and days passed by with little to no change in Kagome’s condition. Inuyasha rarely left her side, except to take care of bodily functions or shower at the behest of friends and staff. Her family, his family, and their friends visited, but at night it was just her and him alone between the stale white walls of the hospital room. For two weeks, Inuyasha didn’t get a full night sleep. Exhaustion forced him to pass out at times, only to be awaken by nightmares. To suffer along side Kagome was his penitence as far he believed.

He clung to the smallest of improvements. By week three, all the bruising and abrasions were healing well, and Kagome was taken off of the breathing tubes since she was doing it on her own. She was still fed intravenously with a high protein diet to give her body the fuel it needed to mend. To pass the time, Inuyasha would talk to her about everything and nothing, sometimes telling her stories of ancient tales, or just reading the newspaper aloud. The doctors had told him coma patients can sometimes hear them talking, so it was worth a shot.

“It’s crazy right?” Inuyasha chuckled if only to keep his sanity intact. “I’d give anything to hear you yell at me right now.” He sighed. “Just call me an idiot, because I deserve it.”

“You’re not... an idiot.”

Inuyasha sat up stunned at the beautiful sound of Kagome voice. It was soft and raspy, but music to his ears nonetheless. He squeezed her hand. “Yes, I am,” he smiled. “But it’s okay, as long as I still have you— if you’ll still have... me? I’ll give you what ever you want, Kagome. Kids, anything, just please stay with me. I love you too much to let you go again.”

This time it was Kagome who squeezed his hand weakly. “I love you too, you big idiot.”

Inuyasha leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Now there’s the woman I fell in love with.” Everything was gonna be just fine...

The banner is for my AO3

[im-immortal]

a new wip no one asked for (and that i really don’t need)

The survivors wake up one day to find themselves back in the world before The Turn. Ten years of their lives have been washed away overnight, with no explanation.

Everyone who was alive at the time of The Great Reset remembers everything that happened—the apocalypse, the dead walking, their loved ones dying, and an entire decade passing. But none of the people who died can remember any of it.

All around the world, society chalks the sudden flood of traumatized “hallucinations” to some form of mass hysteria. In America, a new diagnosis is coined: “The Jenner Effect.” The likes of which has never been experienced before, and cannot be explained by science.

In an old world that feels brand new all over again, the survivors slowly make their way back to each other, reuniting with found family while also grasping firmly onto their miraculous second chances. However, learning to re-navigate the world from before the outbreak proves an entirely new challenge, as the millions who remember surviving and rebuilding civilization must come to terms with the fact that nothing will ever be the same again.

Ch 1: Welcome To My Lonely World

He was in a helicopter. Lying on a cot, hooked up to medical equipment. Barely conscious.

Jadis was there. She looked different than he remembered. And she was telling him that he was gonna be okay. Assuring him that “they” were gonna take care of him.

He could barely stay awake. Everything was foggy and heavy. His body was full of lead and his eyelids weighed a ton. He wanted to turn his head and look out the window, but he didn’t have the strength.

Everything went black for a moment. Then everything began shaking around him.

The helicopter was rumbling and rolling. Machines started beeping and alarms began to sound. He could hear Jadis’s frantic voice somewhere amongst the chaos.

And suddenly, he was falling.

He felt the rush of wind around his body. Opened his eyes and saw the ground rapidly approaching. 

He was plummeting to earth with nothing to break his fall.

Just as he was about to crash and splatter across the ground, he jolted awake.

Rick Grimes opened his eyes and sat upright, gasping for breath and looking around wildly.

He was in bed. A soft, familiar bed. The spot beside him was empty, but the feminine scent lingering on the pillow and sheets was also familiar. And the room around him was familiar. As well as the sounds coming from outside the door.

It was… home. 

But how?

He tossed the blankets aside and leapt out of bed. He grabbed his cell phone from the nightstand and flipped it open to check the date and time.

6:45 am. September 29, 2010.

He blinked. Rubbed his eyes. Blinked again. Turned his phone off and back on. Yet the time and date didn’t change. 

It was the day he’d been shot. The day he’d gone into a coma.

How was this possible?

He dropped his phone and rushed to the door, yanking it open and hurriedly entering the living room. He had to stop and take a breath, jarred at how everything looked exactly as it should. All the photos were back on the walls and shelves. Everything was as he remembered it.

It was like walking into a memory. Or a dream.

That’s what it was. That’s what this had to be—a dream. There was no way it was real. He certainly hadn’t just dreamt up a decade’s worth of post-apocalypse survival.

No. He was dreaming about his old life. Or maybe he was dead and this is what the afterlife was?

“Lori? Carl? Michonne?!” He called out, searching around for signs of his family.

Then a startling sound hit his ears.

“In the kitchen, babe! Who’s Michonne?”

Lori’s voice.

Rick turned and raced to the kitchen. He skidded to a halt just past the threshold to find a sight he’d thought he would never see again: Lori standing at the counter, preparing two sack lunches, while Carl sat at the breakfast bar and ate cereal. 

What the…

“Are you gonna get ready?” Lori asked, barely glancing back at him. “It’s almost seven, you’re gonna be late.”

But Carl had looked up and spotted the expression on Rick’s face. He furrowed his brow and asked, “Dad, are you okay? You look kinda sick.”

Rick couldn’t decide who to stare at first. His eyes were locked on Lori—alive. Breathing. Standing in the kitchen as if… as if she hadn’t died and been devoured by a Walker.

But then there was Carl. Also alive. Also breathing. And… shit. Younger. Years younger.  Sitting there as if he hadn’t been the one to put a bullet through his own mother’s head to prevent her from reanimating. Still the innocent little boy that Rick liked to remember him as.

It was almost too much for his heart to handle. For a second, Rick thought he actually might be sick.

He had to be. Right? He was hallucinating. Dreaming. Or dead. But there was no way any of this was real.

Lori finally turned around and took in Rick’s appearance. She frowned. “You do look kinda sick—are you runnin’ a fever?”

Before he could stop himself, he was rushing forward and wrapping his arms tight around Lori. Pulling her close, grasping at her desperately. He choked back a sob.

“Lori—oh, God, Lori, I love you, I’m so sorry,” he wept into her shoulder.

She stiffened and hugged him back awkwardly, confused. “Wow, babe. I—I love you, too. But what’s—”

He pulled himself away and turned to Carl, embracing his son with the same desperation and holding him close. Carl reacted similarly to Lori, hugging his dad back with uncertainty while Rick wept against him.

“Oh, Carl—Carl, my sweet boy, I did everythin’ I could to save you. Every damn thing I did was for you!”

“Rick,” Lori demanded. “What the hell is going on? Are you sick? Should I call an ambulance?”

Rick pried himself away from his son and turned to face Lori. Completely serious, he asked, “Is this Heaven? Am I dead?”

Lori’s eyes widened and she exchanged a concerned look with Carl. 

“Dad,” Carl started. “You’re scarin’ me…”

“Rick, if this is a joke, it’s not funny,” Lori said sternly. “I’m literally about to call a doctor—”

“What—just be honest with me!” Rick argued, stepping forward and grabbing her by the arms. “What is this? Where are we? The last time I saw you was in the prison. Don’t you remember? The Governor came for us, and—”

“When were you in prison?” Carl interrupted.

But Lori was fuming. She shoved Rick away. “You need to stop! This isn’t funny, Rick. What the hell are you talkin’ about? You’re scaring Carl, and yer startin’ to scare me, too.”

“What…” Rick froze, perplexed. He looked from Lori to Carl and back again, taking in their bewildered expressions and the hint of fear in their eyes. 

His mind was racing. His heart was thumping wildly in his chest. And suddenly, he was finding it difficult to breathe.

“No,” he muttered. “No, no, no. Hol’ on… the-The Turn. The Walkers. The farm an’ the prison an’ Terminus. Alexandria and the Hilltop and the Kingdom, and—and Judith. You an’ Shane. The Governor. Fuckin’ Negan.”

Lori appeared downright terrified now. She approached him cautiously. “Rick, you’re not making any sense, sweetheart. Maybe you should sit down. I’ll call the doctor—“

Carl stood from his seat and eyed Rick warily. “Mom, is Dad havin’ a stroke?”

Rick looked from his wife to his son with wide, wild eyes. His head was growing lighter by the second. Maybe he should sit down.

“Baby, I’m not really sure,” Lori said. “Go get me the phone, I’m gonna get your daddy some help.”

Carl rushed out of the room, but Rick was focused on trying not to fall over. He reached out for the countertop, steadying himself. Lori appeared at his side, putting her hands firmly on his waist and guiding him towards a chair.

“No,” he mumbled, his voice weakening as his vision grew spotty and dark. “I’m—I’m gonna wake up from this any second. But I don’t wanna lose it.” He grasped at Lori’s arm. “I don’t wanna lose you again.”

“Rick, you never lost me to begin with.” She spoke with a forced calmness, struggling to hide her panic. “You’re delusional. Listen, it’s okay. We’ll get through this. I’m right here, I’m not goin’ anywhere. Just sit down, and we’ll…”

But her voice faded away. And so did everything else.

Rick felt himself plummeting. He felt the ground rapidly approaching once again. Then he lost consciousness.

[imonthinice]

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 9/?

Word Count: 1.7k

Author’s Note: Y/N- Your Name, A/N - Any Name (Your Best Friend’s Name)

I am sorry. lmao.

Half of my links are glitched tf out fuck this shit, touched grass yesterday but that grind don’t fuckin stop babey

Warnings: Angst - Injury, Description of said injury, Mentions of Jason’s past, Swearing, Dark Themes, no beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Jason clutched his right side as he gasped for a long breath of the cold, rainy air surrounding him. Everything hurt and he could barely move enough to text Dick that he was down. He would hold and add pressure to the stab wound sitting directly on his waist, but he could feel the blood seeping through the gaps in his fingers as he held it. His hands were covered by the blood and he was losing it fast.

He wasn’t going to walk this off by any means, he was going to need Dick to go get him and bring him back to the hospital wing of the Batcave because he couldn’t move and he felt his eyes drooping as he waiting and tried to keep his breathing in check, while Dick was scrambling to go get him.

There would be a few questions he would have to answer to Y/N. Not even just Y/N, to Lian, his Goddaughter, who he was planning on seeing in the morning since Y/N was going to a dance competition, or at least he thought she was.

But in that moment, so many memories flew back into his head, the hopelessness as he sat there for a few seconds, bleeding out after the explosion that Joker had set off on him. And then the minutes in the Lazarus Pit as he drowned himself back to life, the water filling his lungs as he cried and screamed. But no one came.

This time, however, Dick came.

Dick swooped his baby brother up and onto his back and he tried to run to the Batmobile as fast as he could, knowing time was of the essence for saving Jason’s life. Jason had broke off from Dick for a few seconds before this moment, and it was the only thing Dick was worried about. That Dick had said to come back to him, alive.

In the car, Dick put his hands on Jason's gaping wound, trying to press his hands into it as well to slow the bleeding, the Batmobile had the ability to drive itself, and Dick thanked whatever God was watching that it did. Jason was struggling for breath at this moment, and Dick was terrified.

“You’re going to be oaky, Jase. I swear. Please. Don’t die on me, it feels like yesterday that I got you back,” he leaned into Jason’s face, “Not again, please,” Dick begged and begged as he rushed Jason to Alfred, who was waiting to operate on Jason.

--------------------------------------------

Y/N woke up as always, this time, without a text from Jason. She thought nothing of it, thinking he was safe in his house with his loving family. She went to go get coffee to kick start her day, and A/N wasn’t in the kitchen. She, still, thought nothing of it, since A/N’s lover was over the night before and she had to turn up her music to ignore the sounds coming from the other side of the house. She sent Jason a quick text,

Good morning, Jay. I hope you slept well.

And she returned to her room, coffee in hand, to write some quick little stories about  what she had placed in her journal. Not many of the ideas in there were able to be built off of, but she still tried her best with every idea she had, to see if it could be something more.

It normally never was, but it was always something she craved. The ideas of writing a book always enticed her, but she never thought she was talented enough to do so.

She heard her roommate’s door open and then the front door as A/N waved off her lover. It was a quiet Saturday morning, and Y/N loved that as she dove further and further into her work, immersing herself in the story of two lovers who were destined to meet after one moved to the hometown of the other to pursue criminal psychology.

She couldn’t get her mind off of Jason. They hadn’t even known each other for a week but she knew he was worth her time. A few hours passed by from when she sent the first text.

---------------------------------------------

Dick held Jason’s hand as he was hooked up to many different machines, he could breathe on his own, but the IV and the blood bags were hard to keep Dick’s eyes off of. If only I had been watching a little closer, he thought.

Jason fumbled in his pain-induced sleep, moaning and groaning as he did so when he opened his eyes to find a worried, sleep-deprived and very rough-looking Dick at his bedside, to which, Dick collapsed on Jason in a hug.

“Thank God,” Dick breathed.

“What... what the fuck.... what the fuck happened?” Jason stuttered, like a blanket of sleep and drugs had limited his mobility and brain function.

“I don’t know, Jase. That’s what I was hoping you’d tell me, but then again, your blood alcohol level was suspicious.”

“I... I didn’t drink... drink that much.”

“No, you didn’t. But you did drink, who was with you?”

“I don’t... know.”

“I think you were roofied so they could get the upper hand on you. You almost died, Jase.”

“Come...c’mere,” Jason managed to say, and when Dick came to him, he moved on of his hands onto Dick’s cheek, “Big... big annoying... big little annoying brother.”

“Shhhhhh, little wing,” Dick comforted his little brother, “You weren’t supposed to grow that much taller than me,” he laughed, “Dickhead,” he laughed again, then sighed, and stepped back from Jason to pace back and forth, he was stressed, “I told Roy-”

“Will.”

“Will, sorry. I told Will that you won’t be able to see Lian today, he asked what happened, he might drop by.”

“He should... shouldn’t have to... see me this... this way,” Jason said, eyes pooling with tears, “No one... should.”

“Don’t know how we’re going to explain this to your little girlfriend.”

“Oh... Man... I like... I like her.”

“I know you do, and that’s an issue when you’re high as a kite in a hospital bed, bleeding out, Jase,” Dick tried to explain, “Especially when she doesn’t know you’re Red Hood, dumbass.”

“Oh,” he said.

“I know, Jase. If it was me and Barbara didn’t know, I wouldn’t know what to do,” he sighed, “Haven’t even met this girl,” he laughed.

“It’s... it’s only been... 5 days,” he stuttered.

“and 3 back-to-back, multiple hour, spanning days, worth of dates. You don’t do that with someone you don’t think should meet your family.”

“You’re... stubborn.”

“And you’re my brother. It doesn’t take blood to exhibit the same traits.”

“The meds... are... are wearing off.”

“Do you need more?”

“Not... yet,” he struggled with his words, “Phone?”

“I mean, yeah I can give you your phone,” Dick said as he went to go unplug and hand Jason his phone, realizing that Y/N had texted Jason he said, “Guess you have someone who wants to know where you are more than Will does.”

“Will cares,” Jason said as he took the phone and read Y/N’s text,

I guess it isn’t morning anymore, huh.

Well that’s on me for texting you at 6 in the morning after I know you’ve been working late.

And I’m going to see my Goddaughter today, so I’ve been sleeping in to preserve energy for her.

Can’t forget that she’s what, 1 year old? Girl must have a lot of energy.

Her name’s Lian, and yeah. She’s a ball of energy.

He said as Lian and her dad, Will, formerly known as Roy, walked into the hospital wing of the Batcave. The secret wasn’t hidden to the little girl yet because she couldn’t remember a lot. But, she sure did recognize her Uncle Jay when she screamed her name.

Will brought his daughter up and put her beside her Uncle, and she cuddled into him, he would hold her back.

“Hey... Will.”

“You look like shit, Jaybird.”

“I feel... feel like shit.”

“You’re also talking slow, bud.”

“Drugs... do that... Will.”

“At least you’re not dead, I have no idea how I’d cope or even explain that to Lian.”

“She... she has your... eyes.”

“She’s growing into my nose too.”

“Your nose... looks like shit... on your face.”

“Okay, dickhead. You’re bedridden but yeah, attack me like you used to, I’ll just pull the plug.”

“Lian... would hate you... you for that,” he groaned as he said it.

“Do you need more drugs? I can tell Dick,” Will asked.

“Yeah... I think-”

“Don’t worry about finishing that, Jaybird. I got you.”

------------------------------------------------------

The wet ground surrounding the house Y/N lived in was a representation of what she considered, the bad things, washing away from her life as she got to know Jason more. She wished they could talk more that day, but she did not want to take away time from him and his Goddaughter. Family matters a lot to Y/N, so a thought like that just seemed selfish for her to think when she knew that little girl needed him.

She didn’t think he got injured or anything from the Office, it was a safer place than the fuckin Wayne Manor hallways. She texted Artemis,

So, you’re Wally’s girlfriend, and Wally is Dick’s best friend? Am I hearing you right?

That’s basically the intertwine we have here, yes.

So once you’re in this family, you’re IN, huh?

Nervous?

Not a chance.

The thrill of flipping off pap hasn’t left you yet?

Does everyone know about that? And yes, it’s still massively fun to do.

Wally says Dick is the only one who doesn’t think its that funny.

Lame.

C’mon now, that’s my best friend, but yeah, that’s pretty fucking lame.

You’re the fun best friend, then. You see the fun in making a fool of the pap.

You know it.

Artemis knew of what happened on patrol between Jason and his unknown attacker. Dick had told Artemis to distract Y/N from wondering why Jason seemed drunk, if he seemed drunk. The extents they went to to hide the fact that they were the vigilantes protecting the city, they didn’t know if she was going to be able to keep the secret.

Jason would talk to her after that message,

That storm last night was terrible.

I wish that we were together when it happened. I hate lightning.

Well, you were in Cali.

Did I not tell you? My competition was cancelled because the entire country is fucked with weather.

Oh. That sucks.

Do you want to spend the night here?

---------------------------------------

Do you want to spend the night here?

Jason stared at that text for a while. He did, he wanted to spend the night with her, but he was in pain, hooked to machines, with obvious wounds and bandages. He couldn’t spend the night with her.

I can’t. I’m in Metropolis with Will and Lian. Can we reschedule?

Of course we can. As long as you make sure we actually get to spend the night together.

He asked Dick in that moment, “How... how long... long til I heal?”

“Depends. You’ll be okay-ish in 5 days, but in 7-10 we have to take out your stitches if you’ve been taking care of them,” he said.

“That... that long? Damn.”

[dweetwise]

Jeff ADOPTING THE LEGION! Like the glitch of 4 killers spawning and 1 survivor. The legion gets to have races and be stupid(er) for a match. Frank shows off how to totally do a gen!

[anon gets it. this was super fun to write, hope you enjoy!]

just legion being brats and jeff being a dad. some references to this ask!

Jeff babysits the Legion: ficlet

Jeff is in the middle of rolling up some bandages for his med-kit, waiting for the others to arrive at the pre-trial campfire. When the familiar smoky tendrils start creeping up his legs, he looks around with a frown on his face; nope, still just him. He’s reminded of the last time the Entity decided to start a trial with less than four survivors, and he groans in annoyance, hoping he doesn’t have to put up with three grizzlys this time.

When Jeff opens his eyes, he’s in the middle of Mt. Ormond's snowy grounds and predictably, he’s alone; not the most promising start. He reluctantly makes his way to the lodge, keeping a lookout for angry bears. With no heartbeat in earshot, Jeff crouches by the generator and gets to work, but as soon as the first piston starts moving, he realizes he has company.

“Well, well, well, look what we have here!” one of the Legion, he thinks Julie, sneers at him from the second floor, leaning cockily against the railing. “Man oh man, you came to the wrooong place,” a man in a skull mask comes up beside her, spinning his knife in a threatening manner. That must be Joey. “We’re gonna gut you like a pig,” Julie says, spitting out the word as she starts making her way down the stairs, sliding down the banister like an unruly child.

Jeff sighs and gets up on his feet. One of the Legion brats he can deal with, but two? Better to just get this over with.

“How are you both here?” Jeff asks, undisturbed by Julie getting right up in his face. “Not a very fair match, if you ask me.” “'Both’? You don’t know the half of it,” Joey snickers, probably sharing a knowing look with Julie; it’s hard to tell with the masks. Jeff is about to ask him to elaborate, when a sharp pain flares up his shoulder. “Oops, sorry!” a third member of the Legion--Susie, the one with braces, says from behind him, retracting the knife from his shoulder. “What’s a little stabby-stab between old friends, huh?” “I preferred when you paid me with beer, not stabs,” Jeff grits out through the pain, glancing at the faded mural he made for the group’s hangout what feels like a lifetime ago. “Ooh, he’s funny!” Julie mocks, gripping her knife better. “Don’t worry, you’ll scream soon enough,” she says, raising her hand. “That’s enough,” a familiar voice interrupts them and Julie lowers her hand without hesitation. Jeff sees Frank walk down the stairs with an annoying cocky swagger, Joey not far behind him. “How nice of you to intervene,” Jeff says to the group’s leader, trying to tone down his sarcasm. 

He’s always thought the Legion kids were nice enough on their own, becoming sort of an annoying hive mind when together, but Frank is by far the worst offender, turning into an insufferable asshole when he is with his little gang.

“Fatty,” Frank acknowledges him, making Julie snort. Jeff rolls his eyes at the juvenile humor. “Dude, what are you doing?” Joey questions. “Just kill him.” “One,” Frank begins, lifting his index finger. “This one’s the least dipshit survivor--not that that’s saying much. Two, as long as he’s alive, we can keep hanging out in the trial. And three--” Frank surges towards Joey, slamming him against a pillar and holding his knife against the other’s throat. “Don’t you dare fucking question me again or I’ll throw you on a hook and leave you to rot.”

Joey holds up his arms in surrender and Frank eventually lowers the knife, still leaning over the other teen menacingly. The air is tense with the threat of violence, and even Julie shifts awkwardly on her feet.

“Oooh!” Susie suddenly exclaims. “Was he the one who helped you when you were a baby survivor?” she asks cheerily, pointing at Jeff and innocently cocking her head.

As Frank sputters something unintelligible, clearly embarrassed, and Julie and Joey snicker to themselves, Jeff feels the tension fade and he can’t help but let out an amused huff of his own.

“I saved him! From a--from a fucking bear!” Frank eventually manages to stammer out. Jeff just smiles knowingly, and feels Frank’s stare digging holes into him as if daring him to bring up the events of their last trial together.

As it turns out, the Legion aren’t too bothered by keeping Jeff around so they can stay in the trial to fuck around. At first, they have a race along the long wall of the cabin, with Joey winning each one, until Jeff comes up with an idea.

“Why don’t I throw down some pallets and mark a couple windows, make an obstacle course for you guys?” “That sounds like fun!” Susie beams, bouncing on her feet and clapping her hands in excitement. “Whatever, I’ll still kick all your asses!” Joey boasts.

Jeff throws together a makeshift obstacle track around the shack side of the map, before giving a countdown to the bunch of unusually focused teens standing in a neat row. On his command, they take off in a frenzy, sprinting to the first window. It takes approximately five seconds for the fighting to start.

“You’re blocking me, asshole!” “Frank broke the pallet!” “Cheater!” “JUUDGE!!” Julie’s annoyed whine has Jeff make his way over to the commotion. He sees Frank on the ground, laughing hysterically while Susie is on top of him and is slapping him with his own mask, with Joey standing next to them, sulking. Julie turns to Jeff and angrily points at the remains of a pallet and Frank’s iridescent button on his jacket. “Frank, you’re disqualified,” Jeff says. “It was just a prank, bro!” Frank laughs while shielding himself from Susie’s wrath.

The three remaining Legion members redo the race, with Julie winning by a landslide. She’s in the middle of boasting to an annoyed Joey, when Frank’s face, now maskless, lights up.

“Bet you guys don’t know how to repair a gen!” “Uhh, yeah, ‘cause we’re not a bunch of pussy survivors?” Joey says, not eager at the idea. “I think someone’s scared of losing. Again,” Frank eggs on. “Oh you’re on.”

Jeff ends up teaching the other three how to repair the machine while Frank just shows off and gives obnoxious comments at the others’ failures. Surprisingly, Susie eventually comes out on top, seeming to be the best mechanic out of the four.

“How are you so good at this?” Julie asks, zapping herself on the wires again. “It’s like a puzzle! Super easy!” Susie beams. “Yeah?? Well try to do it when a bear is on its way to eat you!” Frank argues, clearly annoyed at having been bested.

When the group leaves the generator, the four teens stop dead in their tracks and turn to look at something between two rocks. Jeff hears the familiar sound of echoing winds before he sees the hatch. Huh, he hadn’t even considered the fact it would have been open from the very start of the trial, seeing as he’s the only survivor. He could jump in right now and leave, or one of the killers could kick it shut, starting the two-minute endgame timer. Either way, the Legion’s time together (and his time with them, he reluctantly admits) would be cut short.

“You guys want to make a bonfire?” Jeff suggests, pretending not to notice the collective relief in the kids’ postures at his suggestion. “I doubt the hatch is going anywhere for a while.” “I saw some marshmallows in the lodge!” Susie exclaims.

Frank gathers some rubble for the fire, while Joey helps Jeff carry two couches up on a small hill and Susie and Julie find some marshmallows and blankets in the lodge.

“This is nice,” Susie says later, huddled up in a blanket, sitting between Joey and Jeff and looking up dreamily at the starry sky, fire crackling in front of her with four discarded masks next to it. “These taste like shit and the stars are fake as fuck,” Frank says, spitting out the roasted marshmallow and leaning back on the couch in annoyance. “Well, it’s the nicest we’ve had since we got here,” Susie says quietly, nibbling on her own marshmallow and pulling the blanket tighter around herself. “Susie’s right, lighten up,” Julie says, seemingly elbowing Frank under their shared blanket. “It’s been a fun day.” “Yeah, uh. Thanks, man,” Joey mumbles, and it takes Jeff a second to realize the man is addressing him. “Yess! Thanks for this awesome day Jeff!” Susie says, smile back on her face and actually leaning over to give Jeff a cute half-hug. “And, uh... sorry for stabbing you.” “Nothing a few bandages couldn’t fix,” Jeff says and gives the girl an encouraging pat on her back. “Feel free to come hang out whenever,” Julie says. “Yeah, Frank was right. You’re pretty cool,” Joey says. “I never said that!” Frank, predictably, denies. “But. You know. What she said. About hanging out,” he mutters, awkwardly looking away and gesturing at Julie. “Sure. This has been a nice change of pace. Maybe next time we can spray paint more of the lodge,” Jeff suggests with a small smile. “That would be so cool!” Susie beams. “You do realize we’re still gonna kill you in trials though?” Joey points out. “I wouldn’t expect any less.”

When Jeff finally, and a little reluctantly, makes his way out through the hatch, he finds an obscene amount of bloodpoints waiting for him outside of the trial. There’s also a note, with messy symbols scrawled in an unintelligible language that he can inexplicably read--ah, a note from the Entity. He barks out a hearty laugh as he makes out the contents of the note: “Babysitting bonus: +100 000 BP”.

[x-wingkc]

Effects of Stargate

This turned into a long post. We all have things in our lives that we hold on to because they mean very specific ‘somethings’ to us. Some of us have blankets or ornaments that we have had since we were babies because they mean something. Some of us have printed pictures because we were alive before the digital age and the Internet. And then there’s massive numbers of us who have entertainment etched in our souls because a TV show or movie meant something to us at a time when we really needed it.

Star Trek was always my thing. I grew up watching TOS reruns with my dad, and he let me know a new Star Trek was coming out when I was in high school. I had a shitty high school. I did. My family was awesome, but I remember being bullied and just not having a good time in high school. We didn’t have the Internet, but kids are still mean if they chose to be mean. 

Star Trek TNG literally saved my life. It became a family affair to watch. We had a VHS recording machine that would record when I couldn’t be home. I’ve spent the last few years or so going to conventions and thanking each and every one of the main bridge crew for what they have done for me. I’ve met them all so far except Sir Patrick. I wrote to him, and I hope he knows what he has done for me. 

Then there’s Stargate. The show started when I was in the Navy. The movie came out when I was stationed in school in Tennessee. A few of us went to see it and I thought it was freaking awesome. But that was it. Or so I thought.

In the USA, Stargate SG-1 premiered on the cable channel Showtime. I was stationed in Pensacola, FL and was an E-4. I had zero money for cable at the time. Then in 2000, I got stationed in Hawaii after spending 13 months stationed in Diego Garcia. In Hawaii, I was part of a small 10-man deployable satellite tactical support facility for P-3 aircraft. I was the only female. And deploy did we ever. I was gone a lot with the guys. I got along with them all for the most part, but we didn’t see eye to eye on some things. But, they always looked out for me no matter how we felt about each other. My second year there we got a new guy in the unit who told me about SG-1. That new guy would go on to become my husband of almost 18 years now.

I still didn’t pay for cable. I was in Hawaii. Why would I spend my time indoors watching TV when I could be outside paddling or surfing? By then, 2000, I think I recall SG-1 coming out on DVD in the USA. I remember buying a DVD player and watching. Holy shit I was hooked! I was watching another small deployable military unit with only one female in it! And I also was hooked on MacGyver, so I already had the hots for RDA. 

Then there was Amanda Tapping. I’m not sure I can even put this into words how her character of Samantha Carter affected me, but her portrayal was spot on. Sam wasn’t oversexualized at all (at Amanda’s demands that her character not be). Sam seemed real and someone who you could hang out with after work. Sam inspired me on deployments to places I have no desire to ever return to. She is smart. She is beautiful. She is confident. She’d kick your ass if you deserved it. She stood up for herself and her team. And after all of that, Samantha still knows how to love. Amanda made Sam relatable in a time when I really needed it. I have ALWAYS wanted Sam and Jack to be together. Always. 

I would bring my DVDs home to visit family on leave and me and my mom would watch at least two episodes a night. I brought my DVDs on deployment with me so I could watch one episode before having to sleep on my 12 on / 12 off rotations. The realness of the show, and the realness of Samantha Carter have stuck with me all this time. Then I found out about this awesome world of fanfiction so now I write about Stargate on AO3. I love this community and am so grateful I have found you!

I have been out of the Navy since 2004, and yet Stargate is still very much alive inside of me, and fans want more. I’ve tried to see Stargate folks at cons, but something had always seemed to happen and then I couldn’t go. I was supposed to FINALLY see Amanda at Momentocon this year, but COVID. I even paid for a meet and greet with her, and I was to be in the seat directly next to her. Thankfully, it transferred to Momentocon 2021. So I am still holding out to finally see Amanda.

It seems we are getting closer to having a new Stargate show. While I will watch for the mythos and technology and all that is Stargate, all I really want is my Sam and Jack confirmation. We all can say SG-1 and Atlantis gave us enough clues that they are together, I just want it on the record. I’ll be 50 in February 2021, and to this day I gush over Sam and Jack. And that is OK. It’s OK for us to have things to dream of, write of, draw of, paint of, dance of, and talk of. This world needs the arts more than ever. How awesome will it be to have Stargate come back and feed our imaginations again!

https://www.gateworld.net/news/2020/09/5-chevrons-locked-mallozzi-hints-new-stargate-progress-revisiting-destiny/

[pandoraborn]

17 - I DID NOT SEE THAT COMING. || wrongfully accused. ||

-----------------------------------------------------

Back at Henrik’s, Marvin remains by Jackie’s bedside. He knows he should go rest and care for himself, but he can’t resist. He runs a thumb down Jackie’s cheek, taking note of his sleeping for. Jackie still hadn’t woken up properly yet, but according to Henrik, he’d stirred briefly, and was still steadily improving. He didn’t need an oxygen mask anymore, he didn’t need to be hooked up to several machines anymore, it seems as if Jackie is finally going to recover wholly. Marvin can tell that Jackie’s own healing is finally kicking in, as well.

He glances up when he hears footsteps shuffle in. He stiffens when he sees it’s Amon, but Marvin refuses to get up. “He’s okay, Amon, I’ve got him.”

“I know. I heard from Henrik and Chase. You could have told me too, you know. Considering I was just as concerned for him.”

“You’ve been giving me the silent treatment for several days, I didn’t think I’d get through to you. I have no reason to talk to you now. Now go away and let me spend time with my husband.”

“The one you abandoned, you mean,” Amon quips.

Marvin flinches. “Can we not do this in here? I don’t want Jackie to wake up to an argument.”

“Okay, so let’s go upstairs then, because I have a lot I’m finally ready to say to you.” Amon’s voice goes flat. “You do not get to tell me no, you have a lot to answer for.”

Marvin says nothing in response. He knows Amon is right, they need to have this conversation. Marvin didn’t think he’d feel so sick all over again. With a quiet sigh, he bends over to give Jackie a small forehead kiss, whispering a promise he’ll come back soon. Jackie murmurs quietly in his sleep, twitching once before going still. With that, Marvin gets up and follows Amon out of the lab and back up into the living room. The only other occupant is Erin, who’s playing on his phone.

“Can you go outside for a bit?” Amon asks politely. “Your dad and I need to talk.”

“This…” Erin starts to argue. He glances up when he sees the expressions on both their faces. “I just remembered I wanted to go see Jackie too, so. You know what? Bye.” He gets up and zooms out of the room in a hurry. 

The two men watch him leave before turning back to face each other. “Okay,” Amon says. “Talk to me. Tell me how exactly you didn’t abandon Jackie because from where I’m standing, it’s pretty damning.”

“I had no choice!” Marvin snarls, losing his temper. “I was backed into a corner, okay?”

“No choice? Damn it Marvin, this was Jackie! I’m have a really hard time not blaming you for his current condition. You have fucking magic, you could have slowed down time to grab Jackie and run. Instead you fled like a coward!” 

“You’re always going to worry about Jackie, aren’t you?” Marvin blurts. It’s inappropriate, he knows. It’s a pointless deterrent from the main conversation, it’s his own jealousy coming out. Is he even jealous of their friendship? He doesn’t know anymore. “I was held prisoner too.”

Amon storms forward, grabbing at Marvin’s wrists. He turns them over, looking at the healing bruises that still remain. “Yes, I can see that. Bruised wrists, chained to the wall, what a tragedy. So sad, definitely more important that your fucking husband who is in a coma from being tortured. You have no fucking shame, Marvin. Then you have to fucking nerve to throw this back in my face like somehow this is a ‘me’ problem.”

“You’d have done the same in my shoes! I made a split second decision to get help, and look, I found you and Chase! You can’t tell me I completely messed up.”

“I never would have left Jackie.”

“You weren’t in my shoes, Amon! You’re sitting there on some high and mighty throne, acting like you would have been all sacrificing for Jackie’s sake. You don’t think I hate myself over what happened? Of course I blame myself! Of course I’m aware Jackie’s upset with me, I’m aware you’re pissed! You fled a scene too when you needed help, when you have your own set of powers to easily defend yourself with. I would give anything for Jackie, and I am.”

“I want you to hate yourself. You deserve to feel guilty, you know why? Because Jackie’s in a coma. He could have avoided meeting Merlin at all had you thought just a little bit harder over your actions. What if Jackie had died? What if-”

“What if, what fucking if,” Marvin snaps. “You’re not married to Jackie, I am. I’ve been beating myself up for days over this, agonizing over your stupid potshots against me, feeling like the most worthless human alive every time I look at my husband! I get you would do everything for Jackie, hooray for you! Get over yourself, acknowledge Jackie has a new life that doesn’t always revolve around you, and let other people love him for once.”

Amon stares for a long minute. “I don’t expect Jackie’s life to revolve around me. I’m well aware he lives a different life now. I just want…”

“So back off me! Yes, I left him. I left to find help, and we all saved him. You kicked ass, Amon. You were there when I needed you, so drop this self righteous act and forgive me. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I left Jackie, I’m sorry every day that I left him in Jason’s hands. I’m always going to blame myself even without your judgement, so just. Back off. I already know.”

“I guess I got a little...carried away,” Amon relents. “I was so focused on Jackie’s condition, I never stopped to ask how you were doing.”

“I’m aware.” Marvin’s voice is short. “I’m traumatized, even though you didn’t ask. Watching Jason torture, poision, and kick Jackie around for two days is not my idea of fun. I close my eyes and wonder if Jackie would have died if not for Henrik. Would he have died if I wasn’t able to find help? Would he have died even if I had taken him with me, miraculously?”

“Marvin…”

“I’m furious, Amon. I’m angry and heartbroken. Because of everything I went through, the most scarring moment was hearing Jackie whisper that he doesn’t trust me anymore. I can take your pot shots, I can take your judgement, I can take everyone hating me for getting myself out of there. Jackie’s opinion is the only one who matters, and he lost his trust in me. That kills me.” He wipes his eyes, turning away. “I want to go sit by my husband’s bedside and watch over him before Henrik wakes up. If you’re done yelling at me, then I’m-”

His phone rings then, and he pulls it out of his pocket with a frown. Is Jackie calling him? No, Jackie’s asleep in the lab without a phone, Erin with him. Confused, Marvin answers. “Hello?”

“Oh, good. Marvin, it’s Vin.”

Marvin blinks as he turns his gaze back toward Amon. “Vin, why are…?”

“I’m at your apartment. Sorry for crash landing in there, but I needed to portal myself somewhere with a special someone. Where are you right now? No one’s here and I only found Jackie’s cell phone.”

“We’re at Henrik’s.” Marvin turns away to ignore Amon’s frantic gesturing. He can still hear the entity slapping at the walls, probably testing for potential portal openings. “We’re all here.”

“Okay, describe the room you’re in. Can we safely portal in?” 

Marvin’s anger is fading, replaced now with a burning curiosity over who Vin is with. Last he’d heard, Vin had been Cian’s prisoner and now he’s in Marvin’s apartment? Marvin turns back around to face Amon, who’s gesturing toward one blank wall, behind the couch. “We’re in the living room,” he begins. “There’s a couch in front of a blank wall, you can portal through it.”

“Describe the room in more detail, I need to be able to see into your head.”

“How can you do that over the phone?”

“I don’t know, I just need to picture it.”

Marvin rolls his eyes, but begins describing the living room, with as many details he can give. He barely finishes his last sentence when a bright green circle of fire appears on the wall. Both Marvin and Amon scramble back just in time for two figures to tumble through, one more gracefully than the other.

Vin is still on his feet, moving closer to Marvin to hand Jackie’s phone over. “Sorry for taking that, but I needed to call someone and you’re in his favorites.” He steps back and grabs at the second figure roughly, hauling her to her feet. “Also, we need a place to store her. I would very much like to keep her with us for a while.”

Marvin blinks, before turning to stare at Amon. Amon is staring at her with blackened eyes, looking ready to lunge at any second. He turns back to Vin, then the woman in his grasp. She, of course, is screaming and swearing angrily, thrashing in an attempt to pull herself free. Her shortened height against Vin would be hilarious in any other situation.

“Certainly,” Marvin finally says, adopting a charming grin. “Welcome to our clan, Danielle, we’re happy to have you.”

“Oh fuck off,” she snaps. “Get this lunatic away from me! Did you know he pushed me out a god damned window?”

“Oh, don’t mind her,” Vin laughs. “She’s a jokester. Now, a place?” 

Marvin sighs. “I’ll go get Jameson.” He turns and leaves the room, figuring if she was trapped with Vin and Amon both, there’s nowhere she can run to.

----

TAG LIST

 @caori-azarath @inspiredrawaw @shadowtigress2 @burnt-toast-life @lilsprout-exe @randowaffle @oasisofgalaxies @sibling-ursidae @reboosh @scarletender @alphaqwerty7 @imma-gummibear @writingandwhump @dmnfox @thebluejaysworld @immcgill @scubacatwoman @zel-lk @definitely-asexual-volcano @kami-theawkwardmess @n-anon @sleightofsight @imabinerd @elycia1805 @gutter-sun-fun @spiccykels

[pwnyta]

OK THIS IS MY IDEA FOR LIKE A VOLTRON SEASON... keep in mind I didnt watch the last season but nobody liked it so Im sure no one cares if I accidentally retcon stuff.. HERE GOES-

BOOM

Starts off with Coran. Hes staring up at some screen with a bunch of weird alien science bullshit on screen. He looks kind of more aged and tired which is a little concerning because his species is seemingly like immortal. But hes staring up at this screen and hes starts talking to Allura... whos not there its more like ‘where could you be, I still feel like youre out there somewhere‘ that kind of thing...

Romelle comes in and starts like ‘Coran you gotta stop with this. You gotta move. whens the last time youve talked to someone besides me or this screen.’ etc and Coran just looks sad because hes kind of been left behind and he misses the last family he really had left. and hes all ‘I feel like shes still out there... I wish she’d just give us a sign‘ and Romelle feels bad but tries to convince him to step away...

WHEN SUDDENLY some of the alien tech starts picking up some weird interference and Coran and Romelle are like !!!!! Holy shit... and now Romelle is a little on board and Coran grabs a communication device or w/e.

hard cut to Pidge and Hunk. Theyre just fucking around.. I havent decided more about them but lets just say theyre like playing a game late at night and goofing off surrounded by weird inventions and random junk... Pidge loses and Hunk gloats and theyre surprised when their phone rings... (of course Coran would contact them first) but MOVING ON

Lance is still like working on a farm somewhere or w/e he was doing at the end of the series, just with his big family and looking pretty pleased... little girl runs up and tells him grandma said hes got a phone call so he picks her up and heads in.. and then you find out the little girl is his daughter and hes a good dad and its very cute. also he has beard in these moments cuz it can be funny later.

Then we get to Shiro... whos sleeping. Hes all stressed out.. think that scene in IM3 with Tony... like hes not gotten any sorta therapy. And he wakes up all sweaty and startled and Curtis comes in and is like ‘Oh honey are you ok... I thought I heard you wake up‘ something something showing a cute relationship with the fellas. PHONE CALL.

Then were with the Blade. Full suited up Blades are training, ones way bigger than the other, theres some other smaller Blades at the side watching... its clearly some kind of battle instruction... This is were Keith is gonna be re-introduced but boom smaller Blade gets knocked back and helmet phases away to reveal some little gremlin mad that they got bested. A little hot headed moody thing and then the instructor phases his helmet away and its KEITH. Fully purple. Those hints that Keith was getting more Galra-like... now this. Krolia comes in to tell him Coran has called and asked him to come by because something important happened.

At where ever Coran is at the Paladins start showing up. Make it really clear that they havent really kept in touch much...

Pidge and Hunk meet up with Lance... see his beard and start RAILING on him. Like WHAT IS THAT?! And Lance fights back because he thinks the beard makes him look manly but Pidge laughs and Hunks like...//strokes his own beard and Lance is like ‘HUNK HAS A BEARD!‘ but Pidge is all ‘HUNK HAS THE FACE FOR A BEARD YOU LOOK GOOFY AS FUCK‘ And Lance is like ‘Whatever what do you know!‘

then Shiro is like ‘Geez you guys are already bickering?‘ Pidge is super excited to see Shiro and Lance is like ‘AH YES. A man of great honor and refined taste!! SHIRO... Tell them my beard looks good!‘ and Shiros all :).......... yeah. But its obvious hes just trying to be nice but hes a bad liar and Lance is like ‘GOD DAMN IT‘ and the others laugh.

Keith comes in fully Galra.. the other Paladins are like ?!!?!? WAT. And Keith is like hey! all casual about it, offers a hand to Shiro for their little hug thing even tho even Shiros still like ‘Purple? also youre taller than me now? Dont like that.‘ but Keith is like ‘wtf is up with the beard?‘ and Lance is all ‘I DONT WANNA HEAR IT FROM YOU.‘

Cuz hes fucking purple.

But they get to Coran and Coran goes off with a bunch of alien tech speak and only Pidge and Hunk are really following along but they look a little skeptical when he starts trying to mash pieces together like ‘Oh this could be Allura trying to communicate with us! Maybe we can get her back!‘ which of course hooks Lance immediately.

At the chance to maybe create some cool new device Pidge and Hunk are ready to work with Coran to make some device to pin point the anomaly and maybe create some kind of universe jumping portal... they remember that comet thing from that weird AU episode so they know its technically possible. Keith thinks its a bad idea and Shiro trusts his instincts cuz he wasnt really there for that so he has no input.

BUT it happens anyways and more information on the anomaly is given with Pidge and Hunks machine. they find its one life form thats not like something enormous and they get a little more into Corans mind set. Maybe this really is a Allura.

Theyre willing to risk it. 

Something something they build a machine and some kind of containment area to try and ease Keiths mind. Theyre suited up prepared for whoever it is that might come through.

But its clear when the figure steps through the portal that its not Allura and probably not an Altean at all. Weird number of toes, really tall. They suspect Galra and they know there are still rogue Galra out there so they keep their guard up but then the person looks over at them and immediately removes their mask and its Ulaz! and hes like ‘OH FUCK! Shiro!!! (not exact words... I dont do dialog leave me alone)‘

and Shiros ‘ULAZ!!!!‘

Ulaz can look a little different, maybe his mohawk hair is longer and braided so he looks all cool but also like he hasnt been able to maintain his hair, hes got some scars on his face, maybe he lost an eye or something.

And everyones a little excited to see him especially Shiro and even Keith cuz thats one of his Blade brothers! The first one hes met really... (Coran and Lance are not quite as happy...)

After a brief moment of joy Ulaz is quick to inform them of the AU Alteans.

They get filled in. They find out that those Alteans are also looking for Allura... which Coran is like ‘Allura really is alive!!‘ but its not that important to Ulaz at the moment cuz hes just going on about the number of followers Hiras got and theyve been fucking around in the universes gathering followers and power and shit.

Then hard cut to Hiras fleet and that bitch is PACKIN.

THAT WOULD BE FIRST EPISODE SET UP. //a fanfiction by Ewim

what do you think...

[ladyfiresfanfiction]

Baby, Let’s Get Naked - Supernatural Fan Fic - Dean Winchester X OC

She paced around the living room, nearly burning a hole in the floor. Her usual calm, easy going manner had vanished and was replaced with anxiety and frantic obscene murmurings to herself. She was worried that she had gotten dressed up for nothing. But she also worried about other things; what if he had forgotten, what if he couldn't find the place, or worse, what if he was hurt? It didn't help that the smart ass never answered his phone when she called, either. But still, she waited, rather impatiently. If she knew him like she thought she did, he would waltz through the door, smirk at her, and say something stupid like "you're wearing that?" or "let's skip dinner and go straight to bed, sweetheart." Either one would have been comforting right now. What was it about him that drove her so mad? Was it those remarkable eyes? Golden hazel, like a wolf's? Or maybe those plump, warm lips that sent shivers up her spine anytime he leaned in and kissed her. It could have been that rough, gravelly voice as well. Or that body, it was so perfect. The strong, smooth chest, those perfect abs, or those arms that made her want to shove him on the ground and have her way with him. It wasn't just his physique that drove her so crazy. It was also how he could be so childish, but serious at the same time. He could make her laugh like no one she had never known. He was kind, and loving, and he was really protective. He was the guy you could always go to with your deepest secrets, your darkest fears, and he would never push you away. He would be there the second you called. They had met when she had turned eighteen, he saved her life. She was always a firm believer in things she could see and touch. Not what she could sense, or feel. But he proved to her that things are not always black and white, and she thanked him for that. It was the reason she was still breathing, and was able to blow out twenty one candles. When she saw the ghost of her ex boyfriend materialize in front of her, and slowly trudge toward her in a menacing fashion, her life was changed forever. But Dean came along, and he was able to keep her out of harms way. The way he completely took control over the situation, how he risked his own life to keep her alive, it was something she could never erase from her memory. And to this day, three years later, she still thought of him constantly. She wondered if things could ever be more than a quick hang out and hook up before he hit the road. In her heart of hearts, she knew he was the one for her. There had never been another guy since he entered her life. She couldn't find herself remotely attracted to anyone in her town, and she never one thought of going with another guy. Plus, he ruined sex for her. He was like a machine, he could go for hours and never get tired. And the way he held her afterwards, it made everything seem like a fairy tale. Last week he called and let her know that he was coming back to Omaha on business. He said as soon as it was over he would have an extra day or two to spend with her. He was tracking some kind of trickster that was killing the elderly and needed to put a stop to it. She worried about him, but, it was Dean, he would be okay. Dean Winchester could never die. Three hours after he was suppose to arrive, she decided to call his brother, Sam. Her mind had one too many bad scenarios running rampant right now, and it needed to be stopped. The phone seemed to ring continually, which only added to her annoyance. She twirled a lock of her raven black hair around her fingers and growled at the phone. Finally, he answered. "Quinn, hey! What's up?" Sam asked. "Where's Dean? Is he alive? Are you guys okay? Oh, God, please tell me y'all aren't in the hospital!" "Quinn, what are you talking about? Everything's fine. The job is done and Dean and I just had dinner." Sam said, sounding utterly confused. "Oh you did, did you? Ask him if he forgot something tonight." she hissed. Quinn's usual cheery voice has turned to stone. Her crystal blue eyes were probably a dark, scary blue. She was shaking and balled her fist, ready to slug him as soon as he walked through the door. He made her panic, think that something happened with his newest hunt. He knew how much she worried, he knew that she had an over active imagination. And that selfish, stupid, boyish asshole decided to grab a fucking bite before even calling her? Oh, it would not end well. "He's on his way, Quinn.." Sam said, sounding scared. She changed out of her body hugging black velvet mini dress and heels, into a pair of black paid pajama bottoms and an over sized Marilyn Manson shirt. Her hair was devoid of the curls she spent an hour doing, and placed in a half assed pony tail, and her face was now makeup free. She sat on the couch in complete darkness, seething with anger. The second he walked through that door he was going to get it. He walked in fifteen minutes later and tried to feel around for the light switch. When he couldn't find one, he called out to her. Quinn had the nastiest temper he had ever seen on a chick, and he had been with plenty of women to witness unspeakable tempers. He had completely forgotten and felt awful, especially since he remembered she was getting all dressed up. He finally found the switch and saw her in her PJ's, sitting on the couch, looking like she wanted to jump him and rip his eyes out. He nervously chuckled, and moved cautiously. Once he reached the side of the couch, she got up and stormed passed him, slamming the door shut. "You're lucky that car belonged to your dad, because if it didn't, Dean Winchester, it would be DESTROYED right about now!" she screeched. "Hey now, the Impala did nothing wrong so just relax, woman." he said, regretting those words nearly immediately. She punched him hard in his stomach and he groaned. She went into the kitchen and started chugging a wine cooler. He took in a few deep breaths before following close behind. He looked at her, so angry, but so sexy at the same time. Now was the worst time to start imagining the things he'd do her, against the back door, on the kitchen floor, having her bent over the kitchen counter while he pounded her from behind. It was all so tempting, and it would be so easy to get her to cave. He would let her get her rage out, and then at the first opportunity, he would make his move. She glared at him. Why was he still here? She wanted nothing to do with him, and her hand hurt from clocking him in his rock hard stomach. It was like punching a brick wall. She rolled her eyes at him. That smug bastard just stood there, smirking and looking at her from head to toe. He tried to move close to her, but she pushed him away and went to the living room. She plopped down on the couch and turned on the TV. If he wouldn't leave, she would pretend he wasn't there. But, he didn't seem to get the hint. "Come on, baby, how long are you gonna be mad at me? I mean, at least I'm okay, right?" he grinned while whispering in her ear. "Fuck off, Winchester." she snarled. He was growing irritated now. Usually after a few minutes of her incessant glares and obscenities she would break and do whatever he wanted. Then again, he had never forgotten to call her after a job before. It was like this unspoken rule between them. He sighed and went to put his arm around her shoulders, in which she flipped him over the couch. She was now lying down, smiling and proud of herself. But Dean wasn't having that. He was now pissed off, hungry, and horny. For Dean Winchester, that was a volital mix. He jumped up, snatched the remote and turned it off. The next thing Quinn knew was she was hoisted over his shoulder, kicking and screaming while he went upstairs. He went inside her room and slammed her down on the bed. He kicked the door shut and they glared at each other. His eyes took on this melted golden lava hue, and in that moment, Quinn realized how fucked she was. Or, actually, was about to be. He walked over and with one swift movement, yanked her up with her wrist enclosed in his hand. She looked up at him, trying hard not to give in. But the way he was biting his bottom lip, to the lustful look in his eyes, and how his body stood in front of her, unmoving and completely solid, she was melting and quick. He forced his lips hard on hers, and she moaned into the kiss. His hands moved down to her hips, and he squeezed them hard enough that she would have bruises the next day. She sucked on his bottom lip and let her hands wander through his hair, yanking on it every so often. He fell on top of her on the bed and their tongues became engaged in a win or die war. His tongue slid over every inch of hers, soaking up her saliva and texture, it was so far down her throat he was nearly gagging her. She pulled away and attacked his neck, kissing and biting like she was some blood hungry animal. He returned rough, dry kisses to her neck, down to her collarbone, where he proceeded to nibble on. His hand slid slowly down every curve, every crevice of her body. He began to grind against her, letting her feel his slowly forming boner. She began to whimper when he yanked her hair away from her neck and bit down, hard enough to leave black marks. She was sliding her hands down his perfect, chizzeled chest, down to those abs that she wanted to lick. He tore her shirt in half, promising to buy her a new one later. All she could do was pant, and mimic a laugh. He was too much for her to handle. She slowly inched his shirt up, and along the way kissed his body. With every sweet kiss came an animalistic grunt deep in his throat. She knew just the thing to do to get him so crazy, so sex driven, that she would not walk for a week. She finally got his shirt off and worked on his shoulders. She rubbed them while adding butterfly kisses, making him shake and pant profane words into her ear. His hands went up to her breasts, each one fitting perfectly in the palms of his hands. He would squeeze and smirk as she cried out in frustration. He then would proceed to wet his finger while twirling it around her nipple, making them a little wet before he bent down to suck on them. Then his tongue would slide around, and he would nibble, making her arch and scream. He wouldn't let her take control this easily. Her legs were wrapped around his waist and she grabbed his face with her hands, then pressed her lips to his, inhaling his warmth. Their hip bones were crushing up against each others, knocking back and forth, ensuring pain but pleasure all at once. He finally ripped her sweats off of her in one smooth motion, and then proceeded to kiss down her body. He got down on his knees, and forced her legs apart, far and wide, wide enough to make it hurt. She knew what was coming, and began to grip the sheets, feeling her knuckles hurt and turn white. He smirked and winked at her. He began to nibble on her inner thighs, the stubble on his chin was sending every feeling throughout her entire body. She could already feel herself getting wet and sticky. He made his way up to her opening, in which he stuck one solitary finger in. He curled that finger, and another and began to pump them inside of her, making sure she was good and lubed up before he began to taste her. She was already whining and begging him to fuck her, but all he could do was mutter the word "patience". Quinn was not a patient woman. After several minutes of his fingers hitting her g-spot, he released his fingers from inside her and let his large, skilled tongue enter her. He played with her clit while his tongue curled inside of her, making her arch and gasp. He had learned a few tricks since his last visit. The deeper his tongue entered her cunt, the more her body moved. She was nearly sliding off of the silk sheets when he hit her spot. Air was becoming hard to come by, and she was begging him to let her go now. He began to lap up her juices that flowed freely from her body. Her eyes were beginning to roll back in her head and her muscles were contracting. She was so close to losing complete control. And that's when he stopped. He stood above her, jeans still on and the biggest bulge she had ever seen on him exposed. He smirked and leaned down to kiss her lips. His tongue locked with hers, giving her a taste of herself. Her nails raked down his back, giving him some of the pain she was feeling. He pulled away, tugging on her bottom lip as he let go. "Are you sure you want me, Quinn? I could easily leave." he said in that deep, hungry voice. "Fuck me now, Dean. God, fuck me now." she begged. "As you wish, slut." he smirked. He unbuttoned his jeans and she watched as they fell to his ankles. What a perfect day to go commando, she thought. He hovered above her body, the tip of his cock pressed against her opening. Before she could try anything, he pinned her wrists down at her sides, and shook his head no. She was nearly in tears from the pressure and the pounding in her pussy. He could have fucked her sideways and upside down, she wouldn't have cared. This building up bullshit was killing her. And he finally entered her. Every single, solid inch all at once. She groaned as she felt his full girth inside of her, and she bucked her hips against his. He was sliding in furiously, hard enough to send her upward on to the bed, the sheets had become so slippery from a mix of her sweat and the fact that they were silk it was hard to keep her in one place. There were loud slapping noises from their skin being slicked with sweat, and everytime he entered her, he banged his hip bones against hers, causing a shock to go through every fiber of her being. She arched in to him, hungrily kissing him. His bottom lip was caught between her lips, enjoying every second of their kiss. He threw her against the headboard, and he gained momentum as he began to pound her aching cunt. It felt so good it hurt, and she was nearly screaming his name. He grunted in her ear, making her squirm under his delicious form. He finally looked down into her eyes, his lips inches from hers, and he smiled. "You always have been my number one girl, and my number one fuck." he said hoarsely. The more he went in, the wetter she got. Anytime he penetrated her now, it made a loud squelching noise from the huge amount of cum dripping from her. He was nearing the end of his rope as she sucked on his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist, giving him more of a chance to deeply pound her. It was all too much and she lost all control of her body. She screamed, louder and louder, with each thrust he sent her flying into the headboard, and he tightened up his muscles, and shut his eyes tight. He let out a massive load of white hot cum, shocking her body to bits. Her muscles contracted around his cock, and she screamed as she released. He kissed her lips to silence her, and she moaned uncontrollably into the kiss. Once they finished, he collapsed on top of her. He was shaking and panting, and all the while she slid her fingertips through his damp hair, and kissed the top of his head. This was the best sex of her life, and she knew no one could ever top it. He laid there, cradled in her arms, and they were both silent for the longest time. He always liked to go out with a bang, and he sure as hell did this time.

[acesophiewalten]

📓?

OKAY OKAY OKAY SO-

This is an A Series of Unfortunate Events AU that the absolutely wonderful @violetbauds and I came up with and I love it vv much.

The basic gist is that Olaf and Kit end up getting together after all, Kit becomes a countess, and together they have four children. Klara and Alexander, the eldest twins, Alice, the darling child, and Oliver, a forgotten youngest son.

Klara’s a photojournalist, and she can come across as very blunt, sarcastic, and a bit emotionally unintelligent. She has a deep love for her siblings and sees her parents as basically nonexistent. She’s extremely logical, and thinks through anything before she does it. Labeled as a “problem child” for her comments and refusal to do anything for her parent’s benefit.

Alexander’s a chemist, specifically one specializing in poisons. He is a little bit more forgiving and flighty than his twin sister, but still pretty logical. He is more of the “fun” twin, often entertaining his little sibling’s ideas. His logical side only really works when he has time, though, and can be extremely unrealistic and panicked when under pressure and will infodump about the dangers of arsenic.

Alice is a painter, and is the most imaginative and nice out of all of her siblings. She’s frantically loyal to her mother, and later, VFD, and is the first to jump to their defense. She can believe people extremely easily, and harbors an intense hatred of the fire-starters and her father’s side of the family. Really, she just wants to sit in a field and watercolor for the rest of her life, and hopefully never be bothered.

Oliver’s a filmmaker, specifically a horror filmmaker. He’s the first to suggest short films and has a huge respect for Gustav Sebald, and his work. He looks and acts like a bab but knows a lot of wacky information on ways to kill someone, due to some extensive research. He is the only one who believes that his dad is going to return to his “old self” soon, and has an endless amount of excuses and a lot of anger towards his mom.

Okay so the plot technically has two kick-off points!

The first is when Kit is invited back into VFD, and she uses this to basically disappear from the world and her family at large. As much as she loves her children, she, at this point, is willing to do anything to get out of her toxic marriage and the suffocating life of a countess, and re-joining seems like the best bet to being invisible and staying invisible.

All of the Edvardson children, shocked by their mother’s disappearance, try to keep their life together, but their father is being even more of an ass than usual, blaming his wife’s disappearance sometimes on himself, sometimes on his children, and sometimes on VFD. This mentioning of VFD causes the Edvardson Children to try and find out more about it, and they only get back the code “If nothing was out there, then what was that noise?”

The second kick-off point is when Klara actually uses “If nothing was out there, then what was that noise?” and the Edvardson siblings are promptly kidnapped by VFD and put into training, thinking their father perished in the fire VFD set and that their mother didn’t really care. They were developed in their talents, and each proved valuable, but they were pretty miserable.

So one day, Klara and Alex decided to bolt, thinking that Alice and Oliver would follow. Alice, who bought VFD’s charade hook, line, and sinker, didn’t even bother trying to escape, and Oliver was held back by hearing about the plan too late. Klara and Alex promptly ran into the fire-starting side, who kept them around solely because they were good leverage and decent workers.

Alice, for her apprenticeship, was put with Montgomery Montgomery, who treated her nicely and generally acted like the father she never had, and she became one of the primary caregivers of his various reptiles.

Oliver was given over to Jacques, which wasn’t really a good choice. Not because Jacques was mean, just because he was an annoyingly cryptic chaperone who never let Oliver in on anything and was just super underwhelming, though he did do one thing. He told Oliver that his mother was alive, which he relayed back to Alice to her delight and shock.

Klara is thrown in with Esmè, as they all agree that giving Olaf any kid at the moment would be pretty bad, even for their standards. Esmè “hires” Klara, and basically uses her as her maid/valet/secretary. Klara uses her fact over feeling mind to simply act like a robot when Esmè’s watching, and then try doing things her own way when she’s not around. Mostly hanging with Jerome, who she saw as her rock while all of this was going down.

Alex is thrown with Ernest in the hotel and is also treated like a worker, although is treated a bit more nicely due to Frank and Dewey being around. He also manages to see his mom sometimes, which is nice. He has conflicting feelings but is just grateful one of his family members are around and willing to talk to him. He sends out telegrams and is actually in a bit of regular communication with Alice for a week, until the machine is broken - possibly by Ernest - and he can’t send anymore. In the grand scheme of things, this wasn’t a huge change, and it’s better than being treated like a worker or a five year old, but still.

I just really want to write about these guys and their interactions with the Bauds and Quagmires and how their perspective on everything impacts the story!!

I just realized this was more of an AU dump than a fanfic idea, rithanhsns im sorry

If y’all have any questions on this au/these guys, lemme know!!!

[basicjetsetter]

At the End of the Day (I)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 4.9k

Warnings: Lil Fluff, Lotta Angst, Language, Violence – an extremely violent scene, might not be suitable for some, don’t continue to read if it triggers you.

Summary: All Bucky wants to do is protect his family and keep them happy, keep them safe. But no matter what he does, danger hunts him down and makes his life a living hell. It has a name. Baron Zemo.

A/N: This is my first time writing for Bucky. I hope y’all love it as much as I do. If you want, you can listen to Sometimes by H.E.R. The fic isn’t inspired by the song, but I felt like it fit. (Gif not mine, all credit to its creator). Also I apologize if the translation is wrong. Happy Reading!!

Part II

Bucky had it all planned out.

Race out of the debriefing room as soon as the meeting adjourned, jump into his car, still grimy and clothed in tactical gear, and gun it to his house to get there in time for dinner. For the most part, the plan was successful. He left the Compound at 3:45 p.m. and made it to the driveway by 5:50. The clock on the dash reads 6:18. He can’t get out of the car. Every time he attempts to unfasten the seatbelt his muscles lock up until he caves under the exhaustion.

Missions never take this much of a toll on his body, but to be fair, he did hurl himself out of a ten-story building like an idiot. He remembered how the world outside swayed, remembered hearing Sam shout into the coms, telling him that everyone was safely out and that he needed to get out too. There was nothing else they could do.

The floor underneath his boots shuddered. Stairs were out of the question and there was no time for Sam to figure out which side of the building Bucky was in. So he jumped.

By now he’d thought he’d be used to imminent death. After all, it came with the job. And yet this knowledge didn’t keep him from squeezing his eyes shut and holding his breath until his lungs cried for air. It didn’t help his hammering heart or the tight clench of his gut as he plummeted to meet the concrete.

Everything had gone a bit fuzzy afterward. A lot of people rushed in to see if he was still alive. He thought he saw a familiar face, but chalked it up to be a trick of the light. Sam and Wanda hovered over him, repeatedly asking if he could hear them and if he was alright. Nothing hurt too bad. He somehow managed to rotate enough so his left side took most of the impact. His head hurt like a son of a bitch, though, and his mouth tasted metallic and felt like sandpaper.

Medics pawed at him the entire way back to the Compound, checking his vitals, shining bright lights in his eyes to rule out concussions. One of them suggested he be left in their care for the night.

What he needed was a goddamn aspirin and a nap. If he let them hook him up to all those machines, he’d be stuck in there for… Christ knows how long. Hours? Days?

Bucky just wanted to go home to his girls.

Instead of listening to the docs advising him to do such and such, he thought of you seeing him like this, bruised from head to toe, covered in rubble and blood. You’d seen him look worse, but every time he came in with even a cut you worried at your bottom lip and a small crease of a frown darkened your features. But he knew you’d be relieved to have him at home in one piece.

So he disregarded their caution. Within 48 hours he’d be right as rain. The perks of being a souped-up solider, he thought ruefully.

Only one good came out of this mess. Bumblebee is going to go through the roof with excitement. He can hear her screams now, “No way! That’s so cool! Mama! Mama! Did ya hear that? Daddy jumped out of a building!”

6:32 p.m.

He wouldn’t be able to tell her anything if he couldn’t haul his ass out of the car.

Bucky groaned as he grabbed hold of his canvas bag and slung it over his shoulder, then kicked the door of the Jeep open. He gingerly climbed out, whimpering with each movement. He shouldn’t have sat in there for so long. All his muscles are stiff as a starched shirt. He leaned against the car door to close it.

As Bucky limped up to the front door he heard the sounds of Bumblebee and Tater, their golden retriever puppy, running around and you laughing as Bumblebee huffed in frustration, “Give me back my shoe, Tater!”

The corners of Bucky’s mouth curved into a large grin despite his crushing headache. He put his key in the lock and frowned when it didn’t click. Already open. Sighing deeply, he twisted the knob and pushed open the door. Scampering feet ran out of the kitchen into the foyer. “Daddy’s home!”

Sure enough, Bumblebee, and Tater right on her heels, dashed into him just as he dropped his canvas bag on the ground and jumped into his open arms. He grunted in the effort to keep her up in his aching arms, staggering back a couple of steps. “Jeez kid, you’re getting big on me.”

She pouted. Miniature versions of your eyes examined his face. “Are you okay, Daddy? Why’re you all purple and blue?” Her smooth, chubby hand brushed away a stray hair from his face. “Does that hurt?”

Had he winced?

In front of him, he heard a sharp inhale. Shit. Reluctantly, Bucky lifted his eyes and met yours. He’s probably not his usual sight for sore eyes. In fact, he’d be willing to bet that he’s the cause of those sore eyes.

You assessed him from head to toe, no doubt noting how he shifted your daughter to his right side to protect his left.

“James.” Your tone is viperous.

He’s in for it. “Don’t say it,” he pleaded.

“Buchanan.”

Bucky hid his face behind his daughter’s shoulder. “Doll, I-“

“Barnes. What the hell happened to you?” You didn’t wait for an answer, striding over and taking your daughter out of his arms and setting her down. “Honey, why don’t you go finish up your dinner. Daddy and I need to talk about grown-up stuff.”

The girl looked up at her dad with a defiant set of her mouth. “I want Daddy to come and eat with me.” She is her mother’s child, but the way she held herself reminded Bucky so much of himself before he became a pawn to Hydra. Cock-sure and confident, ready to hold his own. That’s his little Bumblebee.

You sighed. “He’ll be there in a minute, baby. I promise. Go on,” you smiled sweetly. He knows you don’t want her to worry, but you aren’t doing a good job at neutralizing your frantic expression.

Your daughter still didn’t budge.

“Celeste, please. For Mama?” you supplicated, leaning down to meet her stricken gaze.

“Is Daddy in trouble?” she asked, her voice now small and quavering. It broke his bruised heart.

Bucky’s knees buckled as he kneeled and he did his best to minimize the sound of his groans. “No, no, Bumblebee, I’m fine. Mama just wants to take care of me, that’s all. As soon as we’re done, I’m all yours.”

“Promise?”

He nodded and laid a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Super promise.”

She perked up as if her mood hadn’t soured at all and skittered off into the kitchen, Tater trailing after her with a tiny shoe in his mouth. Bucky waited until he heard her chair scrape across the floor then peered up at you. “Might need some help getting up here, Doll.”

Despite your apparent anger, you giggled lightly and held out your hand. Bucky grabbed it with his right and pulled himself up, but leaned against the wall adjacent to the front door for support, panting.

“God Bucky, you look awful,” you whispered, running a hand through his tangled hair. “Did you get hit by a train?”

“Sort of.” At your stern frown, he confessed. “I-uh… I may have jumped out a ten-story building and the ground might’ve broken my fall. It’s nothing,” he rushed. “I’ll be fine in a few hours.”

He sucked in a breath as you softly pressed a hand to his left side. You set to work on undoing the harnesses and buckles of his vest. “Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?” he asked.

“Lie to me.” Bucky fixed his mouth to deny it, but you continued. “We’ve been married for six years… Don’t you think I know you like the back of my hand by now? You aren’t fine. It’s not nothing. You’re human, no matter what you or anyone else thinks. You can still feel pain.” Your voice dropped to a murmur.

At first, he thought your silence resulted from the weight of your words because now he certainly felt like he got hit by a train. But he followed your eyes. You’d successfully ridden him of the top half of his tactical gear, laying everything in a heap at the bottom of your feet. Angry welts, cuts, and bruises smattered down his chest in an intricate pattern, ranging from red to purple to blue. The puffed scar connecting his cybernetic arm to his shoulder paled in comparison.

Hearing you sniffle brought him back to the present.

“Jesus Bucky.” Tears shone in your eyes, pooled, then fell down your cheeks.

This isn’t how tonight was supposed to go. He wasn’t supposed to come home after being away for three weeks and immediately upset his girls. The sheer sadness laced in your words hurt him more than his wounds. And that sadness wouldn’t just go away in a few hours.

Bucky pulled you into his arms, welcoming your soft body against his like a heat compress. You smelled like roasted garlic chicken with a hint of buttery, herbed mashed potatoes, and lavender soap. His stomach growled.

“Remember that time we took Bumblebee to Wollman Rink and she accidentally fell on her head and got that nasty bruise?” Bucky asked, resting his head on your shoulder and pressing small kisses to the side of your neck. A small sigh of contentment sifted into the air.

“Yeah.” Another sniffle. “Sam, Wanda, Peter, and Rhodey all bought her big teddy bears and ice cream to cheer her up. My poor baby. I never wanted to hear her cry like that again.”

Bucky nodded in agreement, recalling how every rational thought fled his mind as he rushed to his daughter, cradling her small body to his chest. They took her to the Med-Bay and she stayed there for a week and he never once left her side.

“We didn’t eat. Didn’t sleep. Sam all but locked us out of her room and told us to take a shower and change into some fresh clothes.”

You cocked your head back and gazed confusedly into his pale blue eyes. “You going somewhere with this?”

“We can’t…” he paused, clearing his throat. “There is a healthy amount of worry we’re allowed to give before it becomes too much, you know. We’ll go mad wanting to keep each other out of harm’s way and that’s exactly what you’re doing. This is my job, Doll. I get hurt. We just gotta accept that.”

You pulled out of his arms and crossed yours. You didn’t damper the bitterness as you spoke. “You’re such a hypocrite. What would you do if I came home covered in bruises and cuts every night? Huh? Shrug it off? That’s what you’re telling me to do?”

Bucky didn’t know if he should answer, so he kept his mouth shut, down-casting his eyes. That’s not quite what he meant, but it’s in the same vein.

“Alright. Fine.” You turned away from him and walked out of the room, into the kitchen.

That didn’t turn out how he wanted it to, but Bucky didn’t have the energy to go after you. You need time to simmer. 

He picked up his stuff and dropped it off on the foot of his office, quickly showered and changed into a pair of gray sweatpants. His muscles appreciated the warm water and comfortable clothes.

The lights in the family room and dining room were shut off by the time he finished, leaving only the kitchen to be illuminated in a faint glow. A stack of dishes sat in the sink and the leftovers were contained on the counter, ready to be put away in the fridge. On the other side of the house, down the hall, the light in the second guest bathroom gleamed. He heard the splash of water and giggles. Bath time.

Despite his cloudy mood, he smiled. Bucky missed this.

After he scarfed down some microwaved chicken, mashed potatoes and carrots, he got to work on the dishes.

The act always soothed him. When every second of his day had to be calculated down to the last minutiae, taking the time to listen to his thoughts became a welcome gift. But all his thoughts led back to you. Your warm body in his arms, your head propped against his chest as you made little sighs of happiness. He understands why you’re upset, and no, he wouldn’t like it if you came home hurt every night as he does. Hell, he wouldn’t be able to stand to be away from you as long as he does now.

You’re concerned for him. The least he can do is empathize and lessen your fears. Him not saying anything translated to you as, “Yes, I’d prefer if you didn’t care about me.”

“I’m such an asshole,” he muttered, tossing the dish towel onto the counter after drying the last plate.

He heard you shuffle behind him and he turned in time to see you drop an armful of blankets and pillows onto the couch.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, acknowledging the clean dishes. “If you need some more pillows there’s a couple in the hall closet.”

Before you could lope off into your bedroom, Bucky called out, “I’m sorry.”

That stopped you short.

He chanced a step forward, then another, until you put a hand out to confirm the distance. “About earlier… You were right.” Bucky itched to hold you, but instead, he settled for pulling his hands through his damp hair. “If the situation was reversed, I know I wouldn’t be able to handle it and the fact that you’ve been doing it every day since we got together… I’m gonna be more careful. I promise. I can-I can request some time off. We can—”

You interrupted him, so quiet even his enhanced hearing strained to pick up the noise. “Do you know why I handled it, Buck? Why I never complained?”

He shook his head, again finding his tongue too tied up to answer.

“Because it’s your job. You’re an Avenger. You’re this awesome superhero who saves hundreds of people every day. How can I complain?” Your words choked off with emotion, yet somehow you managed to push past it, sounding rugged and defeated. “H-How can I be so selfish to want to keep the Winter Soldier safe? The craziest thing is, I never see him when I look at you. The soldier, I mean.” You bowed your head and swiped away ceaseless tears. When you brought your eyes back up to meet his, both of your eyes glistened. “I see you, Bucky. And you’re someone I can’t lose.”

Bucky didn’t react fast enough. As soon as he took that last step forward to stand right in front of you, you turned and dashed into your bedroom, shutting the door. He didn’t hear the lock turn.

He walked over to the door and placed his hand on the knob. Pressed his ear against the wood. You sounded close. Crying with your hands clamped over your mouth to muffle the sobs. Nothing would be able to stop him from going in the room to comfort you, locked door or not. But if you wanted him to be near you, you’d have left the door open.

How had this whole day turned to shit?

He went into his daughter’s room. You being upset with him and him landing himself a night on the couch were huge setbacks, but he’d be damned if he didn’t tell Bumblebee a good-night story. She loves those. He loves telling them to her.

They have their ritual every time he’s home. She’s usually sitting up against the headboard, wearing a toothy grin. He’d come in and she’d scoot over to the side to let him lie on the bed with her. Some nights they’d doze off together.

When he cracked open the door and peered in, her back faced him and the blue covers were drawn up over her head.

Bucky took a seat on the corner of her twin mattress, feeling how it slightly bowed under his weight. Tater is curled up on the other corner. His head rested on his paws and his eyes dolefully glanced up at Bucky.

“Bumblebee,” he whispered, stroking her head. “Hey, kid. You sleep?”

Silence. He heard her breath quicken. She’s still awake.

“You mad at me too?”

He held his breath. Utter silence.

“Guess I can’t blame ya.” Exhaling slowly, Bucky leaned in and kissed the back of her head. “Sweet dreams, sweetheart. I love you.” Then he got up, turned on her rainbow nightlight, and delicately closed the door.

The family room felt too small. Too still. Too vacant. Trying to sleep on a couch, especially this one, in particular, had to be the worst sleeping arrangement he’s ever experienced, on par with sleeping on dirt floors and metal cots.

A previously recorded football game is playing noiselessly on the TV. All the lights are turned off. The exhaustion Bucky warded off earlier returned in full force. He blanked out by the time the game reached the second quarter.

“Good evening, Sergeant Barnes,” a distant voice lulled. It’s familiar. Accented. It stood nearby, standing right above him. “Or would you prefer Winter Soldier?”

Bucky’s eyes opened as slow as a stream of molasses. His head swam and his body felt out of place. He didn’t know what was up or down, left or right. That wasn’t what shocked him, though. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t even twitch his pinky. 

Isn’t he supposed to be in jail? How did he find me? How the hell did he even get in here?

As far as Bucky can tell he’s still in his family room, laying on the couch. The covers around his body have been thrown back. A needle is sticking out of his right arm, connected to a small drip bag.

“Whahh—” he slurred. It took him a while to pull his eyes away from the needle and up to the man looming above him with a gaunt smirk.

God no.

“Oh good, you remember me.” Zemo pulled up a chair and sat right by Bucky’s head. He’s wearing a plain black sweater and dark jeans. “Don’t worry, it isn’t poison. Simply a temporary sedative. The effects will wear off as soon as I take out the needle.”

Bucky tried to scream with everything inside of him. He called your name over and over again, but nothing came out higher than a whimper. Even if you heard him, he doubted if you’d be able to alert the others in time. What if he already got to you? Or Bumblebee? A cold sweat broke out across his forehead.

Zemo watched in amusement at the emotions flitting over Bucky’s face. “You’re a hard man to find, but easy enough to keep track of. Your little band of do-gooders always makes the front page. But you know what those covers don’t show? Hm?”

He held up a picture frame level to Bucky’s eyesight. It was you, him, and Bumblebee, all going down a slide together. Sam took the picture a year ago. You were at the top, holding up your then three-year-old daughter, and Bucky at the bottom. Bumblebee gripped his long strands of hair with a vicious glee in her eyes. Your eyes are closed from laughing and Bucky is looking up at his wife and daughter with a rapt smile.

“You have a lovely family, Sergeant Barnes. Reminds me of mine.” He pulled out a small folded copy of a photograph, creased due to the course of time.

Bucky saw a family, but he didn’t take them in. He didn’t want to care.

Zemo paid him no attention as he stared fondly at the picture, taking them in for himself and then comparing it to Bucky’s family.

“You see, I went about this all wrong the first time around. Taking on the Avengers as a whole resulted from my hubris, if you will. I saw the potential to exploit a weakness and work around the outside. Some might say I instigated the War. No,” he smiled and took the needle out of Bucky’s arm. “I merely set them on the right path.

“Captain Rogers was indeed quite fond of you, but I knew Stark wouldn’t be so disillusioned to your heinous crimes. Though, I admit I may have given him too much credit. A tin man set up to fight against two of the world’s best super soldiers? A failed endeavor, yes, but necessary. It brought me reason. Why influence a whole and almost succeed when I can influence one at a time. Leaves less room for marginal error, don’t you agree, Soldat?”

As the sedative ebbed away, feeling gradually flooded into his fingertips and toes. In a couple of minutes, he’d be free from the immobilizing numbness. He prepared his body to spring.

Zemo pulled one more object from behind his back. A red book. An old, red book with a black star branded on the front.

An icy gust of recognition shot shards of panic through his system. It couldn’t be. He’s fixed. Shuri fixed me.

The man went on in relish. “Of course you recognize your creator’s book. A handy thing, this is. Hydra is many things, Sergeant Barnes. Many things. But one thing they remain to be is prepared.” He thumbed through the pages, stopping to the last several pages. “Two steps ahead and all that stuff.”

Bucky forced out the word, “Why?”’

“Why?” Zemo mocked. “Why is it that an abomination, a murderous machine such as yourself, can have this type of happiness at the end of the day? Doesn’t it strike you as unfair, Sergeant Barnes? Why should you have this beautiful family while mine doesn’t even get an ounce of recognition? No front covers. Not even an obituary. I’m simply taking matters into my own hands and dealing justice where justice is due. And Sergeant Barnes, you have over 70 years of undue justice stacked against you.”

Tears stung Bucky’s eyes. Every inch of his body trembled. His teeth painfully chattered. He felt his lips move. “No, please. No, no, no, no, no. God no. I can’t. I can’t.” Not to them.

“This is the way it has to be, Sergeant Barnes. I truly am sorry.” Zemo rose from the chair, walking around to the back of the couch. “Возвращение (Return).”

Bucky’s whole body drowned in a cold sweat and the blood drained from his face. Those bastards! Those goddamn fucking bastards! He pushed off the couch on jelly legs, falling in a heap of blankets.

“сброс настроек (Reset).”

Anger propelled him to his feet and he staggered drunkenly around the couch, standing arms-length away from Zemo. Only a few feet stood between him and the front door.

“не помнить. Добро пожаловать назад зимний солдат (Forget. Welcome back Winter Soldier).”

Zemo closely watched the man standing rigid in his sweats, chest heaving. Bits of his hair is in his face and one blanket is caught around his ankle. He heard the harsh grinding of his metal palm curling into a fist. The asset’s face smoothed over into a mask of stiff submission and indifference.

“Ready to comply.” Mechanical, detached, lethal.

“Terminate everyone inside the house.” With those final words, Zemo withdrew from the house, exiting out of the front door. It slammed shut.

You weren’t really asleep.

Even trying felt like a waste of time. The king-size bed swallowed you with its vast amount of unfilled space. Sleeping in an empty bed was hard enough not knowing where Bucky was. Turns out it’s even worse when he was just outside the door and down the hall, sleeping on an uncomfortable couch.

You knew that he knew the door wasn’t locked.

Relief and an inkling of regret settled your nerves thirty minutes after you closed the door. He wasn’t going to come in. He was giving you space.

Is it wrong to want Bucky laying here with you, even though your heart wasn’t ready to face him? Maybe you’re being ridiculous. He hasn’t done anything wrong. He’s an amazing father to Bumblebee. He’s an amazing husband. Work doesn’t consume him and if it does start to become an obstacle in your marriage, Bucky’s quick to rectify the problem.

You inched over onto his side of the bed and buried your face in his pillow, taking in his heady scent. Were you too hard on him? Were you irrational? Bucky can’t help who he is. 

He’s your daughter’s hero.

He’s yours too.

At 2 a.m. you fretfully turned back over to your side of the bed when you heard one of the doors slam shut, ringing out like a shotgun

You’re on your feet and rushing out without a single thought of caution to stall you. Bucky is out there. So is your Bumblebee.

Bucky stood in the middle of the room. Blankets are strewn around and one of them wrapped around his ankle.

“Are you alright? What happened?”

His head swiveled up at the sound of your voice. Empty, calculating eyes snapped to yours.

Something’s wrong.

You tripped back a little, finding your balance against a wall. Fear mounted in your chest. “B-Bucky?”

No reaction.

“Buc—"

In an instant he advanced towards you, stepping out of the blanket as if it was never there. A scream caught halfway in your throat as metal coiled around your neck. Squeezing. Squeezing. Squeezing.

Black pinpoints and stars shaded your vision. He watched you splutter. You’re sure he didn’t feel your nails clawing at his shoulder.

None of the things Bucky taught you about self-defense came to mind. You couldn’t think, but you had to act. Instinctively, you kicked out. One kick landed dead in his hard abdomen. It felt like kicking at a boulder. He coughed out a surprised grunt and his grip slackened. You aimed another kick at his crotch, dead on the center, and the hand around your neck loosened enough to send you scrambling on the ground.

Your lungs scorched. Your palms and knees ached from landing unceremoniously on the hardwood flooring. By the time you began to crawl away, it was too late.

Bucky regained himself quicker than humanly possible. His hot flesh hand snagged your ankle in a bruising grip and yanked you back.

You cried out, hoarsely. “Bucky stop!”

He paid you no attention. Almost didn’t seem to hear you at all.

His hair fell into his face, darkening the mask that slid into place. He barely struggled to pull you underneath him. Strong, thick thighs caged your lower half to halt your flailing legs as he straddled your hips.

The pressure instantly returned. Both hands crushed your windpipe. His fingers dug into your skin. The wedding band fitted on his flesh hand bit deeper than the metal of his cybernetic hand.

In a last-ditch effort, your fingernails impaled his forearm, breaking the skin. Five half-moon crescents beaded up and trickled in lines of scarlet red, slicking along his arm and on your fingertips.

He never flinched.

Tears streamed out the corners of your eyes.

Darkness bled into your vision, starting at the corners and then filling in the rest as the seconds ticked by. Each beat of your heart painfully thudded in your chest, each thump clunking slower and slower. More spaced out.

Numbness spread until you resigned to it.

Your lids slid shut. You didn’t want those eyes to be the last thing you saw. Those arctic blue, barren eyes. Not Bucky’s eyes.

Whack! Whack! Whack!

“Stop it, Daddy! Stop it! Get off of Mama!”

You wrenched your eyes back open in time to see your daughter smacking her father over the head with her rainbow nightlight.

Hope and absolute dread wracked your body as Bucky unclasped his hands and turned to look at the small girl standing her ground behind him, nightlight half-raised in the air for another strike. Tater is in front of her, barking viciously at Bucky.

“Run!” The word tore itself out your mangled throat. “Run!”

Bumblebee watched in horror as Bucky rose to a towering height, and she let out an earsplitting scream as he ripped the light away from her, then gripped the front of her Avengers pajama shirt, lifting her into the air.

“BUCKY NO!”

Past the rush of oxygen flowing back into your lungs and the thunderous beats of your heart, you heard terrified crying.

Your baby.

Wailing. Scared.

For a second, you’re back at the skating rink and your eyes land on Bucky, sitting on the ice, cradling her to his chest. Nothing else mattered.

Bucky frowned.

The first sign of emotion flickered over his features since you came out of the room.

Confusion.

You saw his eyes drop to the ground, saw him shake his head. Then he looked at the girl in his hold.

Recognition.

Grief.

Fear.

Horror.

Agony.

Bucky trembled, slowly and shakily lowering Bumblebee back onto her feet. She skittered around him, putting as much space between them as possible, and stumbled to your side. Tater is still growling at him.

You watched his eyes reluctantly settle on your body, watched his face crumble.

Bucky choked out. “I’m sorry.” He took a step back. He looked at his arms and saw the indents of your fingernails. Saw the imprint of his hands around your neck. Took another step back. “I…I…I didn’t—”

He turned and ran out of the house.

[defschoice]

The Foreigner Part 3

Youngjae's POV 

Me, Yugyeom, and Bambam are taking care of Crystal until the other boys are back again, hopefully with Jaebeom. Bambam is currently in the shower and Yugyeom is trying to cook some dinner while I'm watching some TV to Crystal's mind off of everything that's going on and that's when I get a call from Jackson...

"Hey Jackson have you found him?" - I said walking a bit away from Crystal

"Yeah that's what I wanted to talk with you about..." - He said sounding scared

"What happened?" - I ask getting worried now as well

"The doctor called and said they have just gotten Jaebeom Hyung in and they want us to come as quick as possible" - He said when I could feel my eyes started to tear up

"Okay, we will be there in 10 minutes. Should we take Crystal with us?" - I asked trying to remain calm

"Idk, we don't know how bad his condition is but if you bring her one of us will have to stay outside with her" - He said as I just said okay and hung up.

I walked over to Yugyeom as Bambam came over as well.

"Jackson just called and Jaebeom is at the hospital. They don't know how bad his condition is but they want us to come as quick as possible, so I'm thinking if me and Bambam head off now then Yugyeom you can feed Crystal and then come afterward, okay?" I said as they nodded their heads when Crystal suddenly stood next to us.

"Is Jaebeom appa okay?" She asked looking at us with her big brown eyes.

"Appa needs our help right now, okay? So me and Bambam will have to go see him and in the meantime, Yugyeom will take good care of you, and then he will bring you to us later, okay princess?" She just nodded her head, I don't think she fully understands what's going on which is good.

Yugyeom's POV

As the boys left I was now alone with Crystal.

"Is appa dead?" Crystal said looking up at me tearing eyes.

"No no appa is alive, don't worry. He just needs a bit of advice from the other boys. I promise you will get to see him soon" I said as she now was sitting on my lap.

"We're going to eat some food and then we will leave to see appa okay?" I said as she just nodded her head.

She started eating some ramen and pork belly while I went to clean the kitchen bit.

"Are you done?" I asked looking at her as she nodded her head.

I walked with her in my arms down to my car.

"Why are we going to the hospital?" She asked tearing up again.

How do I explain this to her?

"Your appa has gotten a small injury but he's okay, don't worry," I said as we arrived and I took her out and we walked inside to be greeted by the other boys so was sitting and waiting.

"Where's Jinyoung?" She asked now fully crying as Jackson went up to take her into his arms.

"Shh it's okay, Jinyoung is in talking with the people who are going to make Jaebeom feel better," I said as she clung to my chest and nodded her head.

A short time after Jinyoung came out and a doctor and a nurse also came out.

"Hello I'm Doctor Jung and this is the Nurse. I want you guys to come with me for a second" He said as we all stood up and he saw Mi Cha with Jackson.

"I will have to kindly ask you to leave your child out here with our nurse as she can't come with you guys in," The doctor said as we looked nervously at each other.

"Sweetie, you'll have to wait out here for a bit, okay?" Jackson said placing her on the chair but she didn't seem to like that idea.

"I want to see appa!!" She screaming jumping up and down when she fell and started crying making a whole tantrum in the hallway.

"You have to wait out here with me and brothers and dad will be back before you know it" The nurse said holding her down as we were told to just go.

We followed the doctor down the hallway and then into a room where Jaebeom was laying hooked up to all kinds of machines. He didn't look good.

"As you can see he's badly injured. We did an x-ray on him to see that his arm is badly sprained and he has hit his head when he reached the ground" The doctor said as we looked at him just laying there breathing lightly.

"How did this happen?" Jackson asked looking at the doctor.

"He was very drunk when he came in and mumbled about the girl out there and cats before he then passed out" The doctor explained as Jinyoung walked over to take Jaebeom's hand.

"Oh Jaebeom..." he said looking at him.

"Is the girl out there his daughter?" The doctor asked.

"Yes, he adopted her a week ago," Jinyoung said smiling a bit while holding Jaebeom's hand.

"She seems to be a lovely girl. How old is she?" He asked looking at us.

"She's 10 but it's been a bit hard for her recently and everything is still a bit confusing for her," Youngjae said looking up at the doctor.

"Well, you can go back to her now if you want," The doctor said leaving the room.

As we came back she was sitting with a lollipop "Uncle Jackson look what I got!" She said running up to him as the nurse just smiled at her.

"Good thing that Yugyeom gave you dinner before you came here," I said kissing her cheek as she smiled leaning into my chest.

"She's an adorable girl. I was looking in her journal and wondering if we could take a few tests on her?" The nurse said as Jackson walked with the nurse.

Jackson's POV

I followed the nurse and walked with Crystal into a room that was decorated for kids.

"Have you seen her journal?" The nurse asked looking at me.

I shook my head as she handed me her journal.

"Name: Seo Yoona

Age: 10

Birthday: September 15th, 2010

Condition: A good and healthy girl but there are a few scars on her back that should be taken care off

Diseases: PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder), suffers from anxiety due to abuse when she was younger

Relations: Mum, Dad, and older brother but she was taking away from at a young age"

I handed her the journal back as I just looked at Crystal and smiled.

"So should I just call you Crystal?" I asked as she nodded hiding in my chest.

"It's okay princess she's not going to hurt you," I said sitting her straight up on my lap.

"Okay Crystal I need you to lay on his bed so that I can check you properly," The nurse said as I lifted her up but she just nodded her head as a no.

"Is okay if I lay with her?" I asked looking at the nurse who allowed it.

I laid down on the bed but she still didn't want to come up to me.

"Sir is it okay if I show on you what's going to happen?" She asked as I nodded my head.

"Crystal, look here. I'm going to show you what is going to happen. Okay?" The nurse said as I took my shirt off so she could do it properly.

She started checking my heartbeat which seemed to be fine. Then she took my pulse which was a little high.

"Sir, are you stressed or anything?" She asked looking worried at me.

"I'm a little nervous for my friend," I said as she just nodded her head.

Then she went on to feel my stomach and everything seemed harmless until she reached my hips.

"I'll have to look more into this later on," She said with a little smirk.

"Jackson it looks as to that you're healthy," She said reading and writing in my journal.

"Crystal it's your turn now," I said lifting her up on the bed as the nurse started checking her while I got a shirt on again.

A few minutes after she was done.

"See that wasn't so bad, was it?" I said smiling at Crystal.

"Okay if you go out to the other boys then I'll just talk a bit with the nurse," I said as she nodded her head and ran out to the other boys.

"Now we can start the real check-up," she said smirking slightly while preparing some stuff.

"Jackson if you would take your clothes off and lay on the bed," She said I started removing my clothes.

Jinyoung's POV

After a while, Crystal came running out of a room where to take her up on my lap.

"Where's Jackson?" I asked looking at her.

"He's talking with the nurse," She said leaning her head on my chest yawning.

It's getting late I think it's best if she comes home again and gets some sleep.

"Mark and Youngjae can't you take Crystal home and make sure she gets some sleep?" I said as they nodded and Mark went over to her up in his arms.

Sometime after Mark and Youngjae had left two doctors came walking out with Jaebeom supporting him on each side.

"I will get him a wheelchair and then he's ready to go home. He just needs to take it to slow the next few days" The doctor said leaving for then to come back with a wheelchair.

"Have a save trip home" He said as we started walking when Jaebeom suddenly asked, "Where's Jackson?" As he looked at all of us.

That's right, the last time I saw him he went with Crystal in for a check-up. Damn it I can't even ask her what happened in there.

"I will go look for him," I said as I went into the room he went into with Crystal at first, only to see him shirtless tied to a chair. 

"Jackson wtf are you doing? Let's go. They have released Jaebeom" I said tying him up from the chair as he took his shirt and we went out when a nurse came up to him. 

"Where are you going, Jacky?" She asked putting her hand on his chest obviously flirting with him which we don't have time to right now. 

"Jackson needs to leave now and he won't be coming back," I said taking his hand dragging him with me to the others as we left the hospital. 

Mark's POV 

As we arrived at our dorm I took Crystal out of her child seat when she started screaming and a short time after Youngjae came running down as he was up in the dorm with some stuff. 

"What's happening?" He asked looking worried as he took Crystal over in his arms and he leaned into his chest grabbing onto him. 

"Let's go up and get you in bed," He said walking up in the dorm with her. 

I just want to be close to her as well as the other boys are...