#and one of the kids headbutted her straight in the mouth

[leafywillow]

Got a filling today and now the whole right side of my mouth is numb oof. I just keep poking my cheek with my tongue bc it feels so weird lolol

[thelastspeecher]

Happy birthday! How about a mash up of some sort.

A de-aged little Drabble in your monster Falls au? Maybe Angie and Fidds have to babysit two hyperactive little monster Stan and Ford?

              Angie sighed heavily.

              “Ssssssstanley, I won’t hurt Sssssstanford,” she said.  Her patience was beginning to wear thin, but she did her best to keep her irritation out of her voice.  “You don’t need to protect me from him.”  Her tongue flicked out of her mouth, catching the scents of the room.  Stan scowled.

              “You keep smelling him!” he argued.  Angie facepalmed.

              “I ain’t jussssssst sssssmellin’ him.  I’m ssssssmellin’ everything.”

              “Why do you need to do that?” Stan demanded.  Angie groaned.

              “Thisssss isssss the lassssst time I let the Pinessssss men collect ssssssamplesssss on their own,” she muttered under her breath.  Ford had gone to collect some more water from the stream that had transformed the four of them into monsters.  Stan had insisted on coming along with, but the two began to bicker while in the woods and got lost.  When they finally found a stream, they assumed it was the one they had been looking for, but in reality, it was one with a different magic: rejuvenation.

              “Hey!” Stan protested.  He sat up straight, puffing his chest out proudly.  “We can handle things!  We’re grownups!”  He sneezed.  A small fireball ejected from his snout and landed on the rug.  Angie hurriedly patted it out with the end of her scaly tail.

              “You sssssssure ain’t grownupssss right now,” Angie pointed out.  Stan looked down at his juvenile body, then at Ford’s, before looking back at Angie.  “Sssssssssincccccce you ain’t grownupssssss, ya need to lisssssssten to ssssssomeone who issssss.”

              “No.”

              “Ssssstanley, yer wingssssss can’t even sssssssupport yer body weight yet.  Ya keep ssssssstartin’ firesssss.”

              “What’s your point?” Stan demanded.  Angie kneaded her forehead.

              I need to be paid for this.  Something collided with her tail.  She instinctively whipped around and let out an ominous hiss.  The thing that had bumped into her, Ford, let out a bleat of terror and scampered away.

              “So much for not wanting to eat him,” Stan said snidely.  Angie glared at him.

              “He ssssssshould know better ‘n to messssss with a ssssssssnake’sssssss tail,” she said firmly.  “I don’t want to eat him, I jusssssst don’t ressssssspond well to lil faun kidssssssss headbuttin’ me!  My tail issssssss sssssenssssitive!”  Stan blew a raspberry before running off in the same direction Ford had.  Angie groaned loudly.  Footsteps sounded.  Fiddleford walked into the living room.

              “Where are they?” he hamboned.  Angie dragged her hands down her face.

              “They ran off.  Sssssstanford thought it wassssss a good idea to headbutt my tail and, well.  You know how sssssssenssssitive my tail issss.  I didn’t ressssssspond to bein’ headbutted well.”

              “You need to learn to control your instincts around kids.”

              “Mossssssst kidssssss don’t headbutt my tail,” Angie hissed.  She shook her head.  “If I’m sssssss’posssssed to control my inssssstinctsssss, he sssssshould work on hissssss!”

              “He’s a child.”

              “A child who isssssss half goat!  I’m half sssssssnake!  Where are hisssss sssssself-pressssservation inssssstinctssss?  Or doessssss he jussssst have head-buttin’ inssssssstinctsssss?” Angie snapped.

              “You think he should be afraid of you?”

              “No!”  Angie kneaded her forehead.  “But I do quesssssstion why he’sssssss not!  Ssssssstanley issssss!  He’sssss obsssssesssssed with protectin’ Sssssstanford from me.”  She sighed.  “I don’t underssssssstand faunssssss."

              “Well, I don’t understand dragons!”  Angie shot Fiddleford a glare.  “Honestly, Banjey, I understand Stanford a lot better than I understand Stan.”

              “I guesssssss it’ssssssss a good thing I underssssssstan Ssssstanley more, then,” Angie muttered.  “Makessssss sensssssse.  Ussssss reptilesssssss have to ssssstick together.”  Fiddleford rolled his eyes.

              “Sure.”  Hoofbeats on wood sounded, along with the clatter of claws.  Ford scampered into the living room, closely followed by Stan.  Stan sneezed, setting the carpet on fire.  Angie hurriedly patted the fire out with her tail yet again.

              Gettin’ awful used to puttin’ out fires.

              “F!” Ford bleated happily.  He rushed over to Fiddleford and headbutted him in the gut.  Fiddleford doubled over in pain, but smiled nonetheless.  He ruffled Ford’s hair.

              “Lunch is ready,” he hamboned.  Ford cocked his head curiously and let out a confused bleat.  Fiddleford looked at Angie.  “Mind translating?”

              “Fine, I’ll transsssslate.  But Sssssstanford sssssshould really work on learnin’ how to undersssssstand ya.”  She cleared her throat.  “Lunch issssss ready, hatchlingssssss.”

              “Yay!” Stan and Ford cheered.  They rushed into the kitchen.  There was a loud crash.  Stan sneezed yet again.  The fire alarm began to beep.  Angie looked at Fiddleford wearily.

              “We need to get ‘em back to normal.”

              “Couldn’t agree more.”

[professionalranter31]

What is this kid?

As Izuku lands, he tightens the cape to keep Eri close.  The raid just went straight out window with Nighteye injured and Mirio losing his quirk.  He is honestly just running on his instincts at this point and trying to ignore the pounding in his head.

A giant monstrosity bursts out of the ground and Izuku sees Overhaul at the center.  He growls and activates Full Cowling ready to fight to protect the little girl who is clinging to him shaking in absolute fear.  Taking a step he rushes forward and kicking Overhaul into the sky and jumps after him delivering a quick punch.

“Don’t you-” Overhaul tries to say something but Izuku doesn’t care and hits him again.

Down at the ground Uraraka and Tsuyu have gotten Nighteye there and watch the fight in awe but notice something that doesn’t look right, “Why is there steam coming off of Deku-kun?”

Another hit to the madman and Izuku just keeps getting angrier ‘Why won’t he just stay down!?’

As Izuku continues to hit Overhaul more steam continues to come off of him until a burst of it covers both Overhaul, Izuku and Eri until the trio see the little girl falling from the sky still holding onto the cape as though it were a life line.  Tsuyu quickly jumps and grabs the little girl and as she comes down she sees the cape ‘Did Overhaul mange to grab it?’ near the knot it was torn.

As they look up they see a giant shadow begin exit the cloud.  Overhaul plummets to the ground and another blur rusher after him with steam coming from it.  Another hit and the blur seems to grow bigger but then another explosion of steam appears as Overhaul hits the ground.

He gets onto his monstrous feet and tries to move and grab Eri when a large blur hits him away.  A large stomp was heard as growl escapes whatever is in the cloud.

Suddenly, a large gust comes from within the cloud and blows away the steam revealing the creature that stands where Izuku should be.

Towering even over Overhaul in his monstrous form stood a green scaled dragon.  Spikes trailing down the back ending in a spear-like tail the muscles rippling with scarred flesh.  Upon the head adorned five sets of horns the slit eyes a vibrant green.  Another growl escapes the beast’s throat showing the maw of razor sharp teeth before it bellows a monstrous roar that shattered the windows leaving those closest to it to cover their ears and alerting those that are currently underground.

Taking a charge the dragon headbutts Overhaul back into the air and with mighty push of it’s wings follows when green lightning flows over the creature in some areas taking shape of the scars.

“DEKU-KUN!?!?”

Izuku in his new form punches Overhaul with his paw before quickly headbutting the Yakuza leader again.  As he goes further in the air smoke begins to leave Izuku’s mouth before he breathes out a torrent of fire straight at his enemy.

As Overhaul screams in pain Izuku hits him one more time and forces him to crash once more into the ground where he disconnects from the ally he combined with.

Trying to get up Overhaul reaches for his gun hoping maybe he can salvage this situation when the dragon lands in front of him.  The other heroes coming out from underground they stop and gape at the site before them of towering dragon leaning its giant horned head to growl at their main target of the raid who is shivering in utter fear.

Overhaul begins to raise the gun with quirk erasing bullets loaded inside when black tendrils burst out between the scales of the dragon and grabs his hand while new tendrils grab the gun and the other cartridge of bullets.  Raising his free hand he tries to bring down on the face of the dragon when another tendrils stabs through the palm of his hand spins rapidly creating a hole in his hand.  His once captive arm is let go but before he can try and heal himself his hand is stabbed again and the process is repeated.

Multiple tendrils take the gun and bullets; and cover them into a sphere and begin to squeeze breaking everything throwing the ruined weapon into the sky and Izuku breathes another torrent of searing flames completely destroying the dangerous weapons.  As he takes a breath a third explosion of steam escapes from him and there he stands human again at least somewhat.  Before anyone can ask questions, the green-haired boy falls to the ground unconscious.

~A couple hours later~

At the hospital Aizawa, Toshinori and Inko stand on in a hospital room.

“I thought his quirk was super strength not turning into a god damn dragon!” Aizawa suddenly screams out frustrated since none of this makes sense.

“Aizawa, I don’t understand this either, but there is no need to lash out.  Ms Midoriya can you explain the quirk of young Midoriya’s father please?” Yagi decides to try and get to the root of this connundrum they are currently experiencing.

“T-this wasn’t what was on-n the donor’s-s inform-”

“Wait, donor?”

“O-oh um, my husband wasn’t f-f-fertile and well I-I had always really wanted a child so I had gone to a sperm bank and asked for an insemination from someone with a fire quirk so it could be like it was o-our own child but well when Hisashi f-found out what I had done h-he left.  T-t-turned out he had cut his tubes a-and never wanted a-a child.” Inko manages to get out through her worry for her son as she looks to him on the bed.

Izuku is now sporting the same amount of horns as his dragon form.  Scales litter his body now and x-rays showed that he now has a new organ which they theorize is for the fuel for his fire breathe.

“I’ll have Recovery Girl run a DNA test to see who the sperm donor is so maybe we can get some answers.” with that Aizawa and Toshinori leave the room in the hopes of getting some answers.

~One hour later~

Toshinori and Aizawa sit before Recovery Girl waiting for her to tell them the results.

“Midoriya’s DNA is a bit strange right now but I managed to isolate what I was looking for and for some reason he has four biological parents.  I have yet to call the three donors yet as I figured you would like to know who they were.  First, we have Ryuko Tatsuma AKA the Dragon Hero Ryukyu so one part is solved on Midoriya’s quirk.  Secondly, we have Taishiro Toyomitsu AKA the BMI Hero Fatgum, I have yet to figure out how this factors into his quirk yet.  Finally, we have Enji Todoroki AKA the Flame Hero Endeavor which explains the fire breathe.”

The room is currently silent as the two teachers absorb the information they have just been told.

A/N

Welp, that’s it people.  One piece of information I couldn’t tell you guys is that the sperm bank was a front for the HPSC to try and create powerful quirks for the future and Inko’s request was perfect for them to try their hands at combining multiple pieces of DNA.

@musicfeedsmysoul12  @anastasian-dreamer 

Have fun with this!

If you got any feedback for me on how I can improve my writing you can tell just don’t be rude about it.

[malexmalereader]

Jesse McCree x Male!Reader - Confess it, else I'll take it to my grave

A/N: it's here. Part 2 to a oneshot written quite some time ago, requested by @madeofunicorns111813 - sorry it took so long - I also took some liberties with the request, hope it's not too bad either way!

Part 1:

Part 2:

As you slowly open your eyes again, waking from your nap, it's pitch black outside - only a small lantern on the porch spending some light, that illuminates a few more bottles of whiskey and cans of beer standing around the porch swing, mainly where Jesse had sat earlier.

The amount of them made you shake your head in amusement - he must be drunk as balls by now, if he hasn't passed out somewhere else yet. 

Now there was no sign of him, not the gentle feeling of his arms around you, no indication where he might be gone - only his scent faintly lingering in the air.

You stretch and sit up straight, taking a deep, content breath. 

You check your wristwatch and let out an impressed whistle - you'd slept on that old, only mildly comfortable porch swing from what must've been 10 p.m. to somewhere around two in the morning.

You hear the front door open, Jesse's heavy steps a little uneven as he saunter back over to the porch swing, barely acknowledging you.

In his hand he has a glass of water, sighing deeply before downing it in one go. You fondly watch as he spills just a bit of water, that drips down his beard and stains his shirt. 

He sets down the glass and sighs once more, staring of into the vast emptiness of the seemingly never ending fields.

"I reckon, and please take my word on this one - it might just be bedtime for the two of us.", you chuckle as you watch him clumsily trying to get up, setting you swinging ever so slightly.

"You ain't the boss o' me-", he says, a few hiccups interrupting him as he stumbles his way forward.

You roll your eyes and get up as well, offering to be his arm rest and crutch, but instead of throwing an arm over your shoulder he wraps you up in a big hug.

"I'm really glad to be back here-", he slurs, headbutting into your neck with a little more force than he meant to.

You pat his back, letting out another chuckle. 

"I know man, I know. You've mentioned it a couple of times.", you calmly state, not too surprised by his emotional outburst - even way back when you were younger he had the habit of getting sappy when he let his guard down - either with the help of alcohol or not.

"Nah, you ain't hearing me Darlin'...", He mumbles against your neck, his beard tickling you, before lazily lifting his head to look into your face.

His right hand finds its way to gently cup your cheek and you feel your face grow a little warmer, as you realize how close he is to you. Granted, you were a little surprised and conflicted about whether it's just the alcohol getting the best of both of you.

But god damn it, if his face didn't look stupidly handsome in the low light of the lantern, making his eyes sparkle as he looks at you with such fondness.

"God, I love you so much…", He says, his voice low as his thumb strokes your cheek.

You swallow harshly, trying to avert your eyes away from him - though you had not completely slept the whiskey from your mind yet, you didn't want to get caught up in something that Jesse might not even mean. 

But there was just something so captivating about the way he was looking at you - something you had longed for for almost three decades.

"Y'know, back when we were kids my Ma would tease me 'bout how much I talked about you…", he chuckles as he slurs on "And I'd always tell 'er that she got it all wrong. (Y/N) ain't nothing but a friend, he's just real cool, just my ride or die guy for when times get tough."

A corner of your mouth twitches up into a slight smile at the mention of Jesse's Mother - she was a really sweet lady, always had apple pie ready when you and Jesse came back from a days adventure. 

It wasn't until she remarried back when Jesse was 17 that all went downhill.

"But I think she knew I was lyin'. Could see it in her eyes. I bet right now she's looking down at me from the heavens thinking to herself 'told ya so, boy.'", Jesse sighs, pulling you a little closer.

"For the longest time I thought I'd marry you. At some point I would've asked you out, real sweet, had it all planned.", as he keeps talking, you swear his voice is getting weaker and his eyes are getting watery - though you wouldn't bet on it.

You gently stroke his back as he keeps talking.

"I wanted to- I wanted to take you out to sit on that ol' abandoned truck at the very back of my Ma's farm. We would've sat down on the back, under that really ugly lookin' cherry tree. There- there was a meteor shower that night.", His eyes slowly drift away from you as he keeps talking, his hand finding its way down your arm, hesitantly lingering at your fingers.

"I had my whole life figured out - I'd tell you, and you'd tell me that you'd always liked me too, and we'd've kissed under the moonlight and all that. We'd've-", he chuckles slightly "We would've finished school, and gone to prom, and then we'd have gotten jobs and get married…"

He lets out a shaky breath.

"I wanted to- I wanted to have a big, sweet wedding on your Mommas' farm, and then we'd've settled down a little further out - but not too far away from our families. So that when we would have had children they could always celebrate their birthdays with their grandparents an' aunts an' uncles an' cousins."

You sigh and intertwine your fingers with his, bringing the hand that had previously stroked his back to his cheek.

You tenderly wipe a tear away with your thumb, guiding his head back to look at you again.

"I'm- I couldn't. I couldn't tell you. Thought you'd say no... I was too much of a coward. And then- the whole thing with my stepdad happened...Ma told me she was remarrying and I just- I just left- and left you, and her, and he got her and hurt her and I didn't even- I didn't even say goodbye to her I-", he chokes up, lowering his head, his eyes closed as he sobs just the slightest bit.

Unsure of what else to do, you squeeze his hand and wipe some stray hair from his face, encouraging him to look at you again.

He carefully opens his eyes, glancing into yours.

"And yesterday, when I came back you just...you welcomed me with open arms and just- you- I don't deserve you. I don't deserve any of your hospitality and all that…I've- Darlin', I'm the absolute worst.", Tears keeps spilling from his eyes as he rambles on.

You let go of his hand just to wrap your arm around his waist and pull him closer.

"I'm gonna have to disagree with that statement, cowboy.", you smile slightly as his expression changed from sad to slightly confused as you glance at his lips for a short moment, before looking back into his eyes.

His gaze flickers from your own lips, to your eyes and then back to your lips.

And as you pull him closer and closer, until your lips meet for a gentle kiss it feels as though time has stopped in its tracks.

His are slightly chapped, taste like all kinds of alcohol and he still reeks of smoke, but right now you couldn't care less as you close your eyes and melt into the kiss.

You can feel Jesse's shoulders relax as his hands roam around your back and up and down your arms.

And when you part he looks just a little more baffled than before. Though there's also a love struck glaze over his eyes.

"Sweetheart, I- I don't think I understand.", He says, almost breathless, a big, dumb grin on his face.

"And I thought that would get my point across just fine.", you giggle, pressing another soft kiss to his cheek.

"After all this time, I don't think there's a single thing in this world that could make me not love you, Jesse.", you confess.

Jesse's eyes widen and he practically tackles you with another kiss. You don't care about the bottles and cans you knock over with your feet as he makes the two of you stumble back on the porch, back down on the swing.

And it doesn't even bother you when the lantern loses its light - if you were afraid of the dark before, right in this moment it simply didn't matter. 

Jesse had you encased in his arms, and by what you could tell, you wouldn't ever have to worry about being alone again.

[mhabasket21]

Chapter 2

Sometimes...It's Not Enough

Chapter 1

~~~

Harmony watched her classmates fight one after another and she was surprised to see how strong they were.

She remembers the sparring match just before hers the most. She remembers Aizawa calling them Todoroki and Lida. Due to their costume design she had a rough idea on what their quirks were but she was amazed to see how well they were moving in them. No matter how much ice the guy named Todoroki used to follow his opponent, Lida’s speed was unmatchable. It wasn't until almost every inch of the gym was frozen Lida lost his balance and slid across the ice.

Aizawa called the match to an end, “Todoroki won this round. It was a close call. Lida, your speed has increased but it seems like we need to work on getting you used to moving around on other platforms that are more challenging to walk on. Todoroki you also need to start incorporating your right side into fights.”

It wasn’t until Harmony felt the heat surrounding her; she understood what he was talking about. The right side of Todoroki’s hand that was pressed on the ground was glowing red and she saw the small heat rise above it. The ice immediately melted under the heat and soon the gym was no longer covered in ice.

The two bowed at their teacher before returning back with the rest of the group. “Well, I’m sure you guys are dying to see the next match. Up against the transfer student will be Kirishima.”

Her ears perked up at the name as she stared at the teacher with big eyes. He was already walking back to the side of the gym ignoring her stare.

Kirishima hesitated, “Uh Mr. Aizawa I don’t think-”

“You question my teaching?”

“No sir,” the class said in unison not ever wanting to be on the bad side of the pro-hero.

The two stood across from one another, hesitating to make the first move. Kirishima rolled his neck before speaking, “I didn’t think Mr. Aizawa would put you against me on the first day but -” He hardened his body and lifted his arms into a fighting stance, “- let me show you what it means to be a student at UA.”

Harmony wasn’t surprised to see the sudden change in his attitude. She was, afterall, in a class with students who wanted to be pro-heroes just like her. Even though she had no idea how his quirk worked she wasn’t going to let him beat her so easily.

With her mind made up to prove to her classmates she is capable of being a student at UA she dropped down to all fours. Her tail was high, swaying at a steady pace with confidence. She watched her opponent closely, all of her senses on alert. When she opened her mouth, her teeth were elongated and she smirked at the subtle scent of fear coming around the whole gym.

“Bring it you red headed loser.” From the sideline she can hear Bakugou yelling about how only he can use that nickname.

Just as expected, something in him snapped at the familiar nickname and Kirishima was the first to move. She stood her ground as she watched him run straight towards her. He pulled his arm all the way back ready to punch. She can hear the screaming of her classmates to run away but she stands her ground. She waited until he was arms length away before she ducked his punch. In the same second before he could retreat, she pushed up, headbutting his chest as he stumbled back. She smiled at his shocked face but the look quickly faded into a smirk.

“You got some power but I don’t know if you noticed my quirk. My whole body is hardened.” Her eyes shifted to the part of his chest where she had headbutted and realized he was completely fine. “Physical attacks aren't going to work on me, kid,” he said, going for another punch. This time she waited for him to get close enough before she ran under his arm. The moment he turned around she used her legs to kick his chest but just like he said, there wasn't even a scratch.

She can see the look of victory on his face but Harmony knew who was going to be the winner of this match.

Everytime he tried to punch he would come in contact with the air and she would find different ways to bring damage, but no matter what she did, he looked fine.

On the outside.

She can hear her classmates pitying her from the sideline. They thought this match had a clear winner but what they didn't see was how tired he was becoming.

Every hit was calculated. Even though she was using different ways to hit him, what people couldn't see was that she was attacking the same spot. She can hear his shallow breathing, see his chest moving heavily and to top it all off she can smell his fear the more time goes by and the more hits he takes.

His quirk may be hardening but just like anyone else, we all have a limit.

Before he can recover from all the blows he’s taken she takes the chance to bring the match to an end. With just enough speed, Harmony ran on all fours straight towards her target. She saw the panic in his eyes and he quickly brought his arms up to shield his face. With one last push of her legs she pounced on Kirishima, finally bringing him down. She sat on his stomach and put her hands on his chest, ready to make the next move if he was to get back up.

The class held their breath as they waited to see what Kirishima would do. It didn't take long for him to raise his hand in surrender. From one second to the next her once elongated teeth were back to normal as she smiled at him.

Aizawa closed his eyes. Aside from Harmony herself, he was the only one who expected this outcome. The rest of the class went completely speechless.

She got up before reaching out her hand to help him, “Good match classmate,” she said with a smile.

Kirishima took her hand and let out a heavy sigh, “Why do I feel like you were holding yourself back.” Harmony immediately knew something was wrong, but before she could press on further, Kirishima walked away and Aizawa stood in front of the class.

“Roboto was the victor in that round. Kirishima, you did well, but I’m sure you know yourself there's still much improvement that can be made. Roboto, if I had to speak for the class I can safely say you have surprised all of them. Though, I knew this would be the outcome. Your distraction in front of an audience is evident, that will be something we will work on during training.”

Class went on and by the end Harmony had a good idea of everyone's quirk. They were definitely powerful in their own way.

“That is it for training today. Get dressed and head back for your next class.”

[fizzingwizard]

a day/week in the life of a preschool teacher x’D loooong venting rant

Yesterday... which was a lot like Thurs, which was a lot like Wed, to be honest... but anyway, yesterday... I had an unusual number of tantrums, so I was carrying crying kids a lot more than usual. One of them kept headbutting me. She wanted attention, and she was upset that she thought I was upset with her. For some reason giving her her water bottle fixed everything. Idek.

Then one kid put up a huuuge fight at nap time, so I’m walking around carrying him, putting him down, picking him back up.

Finally, at long last, I get him to stop fighting by finding a position he decides is comfortable... which is lying on my chest with me leaning at like a 140 degree angle, rocking back and forth. Kept on “sitting” like that up for ten minutes before he finally fell asleep. My back hurtssss x’D though it hurts less than it would have three years ago when I first started this job.

Other things this week... the tantrum throwers reeeeally have been at it. Had to physically carry them down the hallway multiple times. It’s like sorry guys, I can’t leave alone with no supervision in this room lol. They are both big kids, but I remember a kid last year who was huuuge for a three year old. He’s just a large kid, that’s all. But mentally, of course, he was three, and threw tantrums like threes do, and his poor mom :8 She couldn’t pick him up at all. Neither could us. Two teachers had to pick him up, one by the legs, the other under the arms, to carry him onto the mat so he wouldn’t hurt himself thrashing around. He’s the sweetest kid, and all kids throw tantrums now and then, he just happens to be so big that it was a much bigger deal...

And I was on supervision duty literally every single day, morning and afternoon, this entire week, except for the one day that I teach a class in the morning. And most of it was in the more chaotic room x’D It’s so funny because last year, even though the kids were different, it was same situation: supervision in that room was always crazier than in the other room. There are sooo many tantrum throwers in the 1-2 class in that block, as well as biters and hitters. We have so many kids to “keep a special eye on.” At one point I’m reaching out to stop one kid shoving a toy in his mouth while dragging another away from hitting another kid by his legs.

This latter kid is also very very large, but only 2 so we can still pick up, it just isn’t fun x’D (He’s in a class with the lightest student, who is as small as a doll, carrying her feels like holding thin air.) When he’s upset, he screams and throws himself backwards quite hard. Right now, tickling and giving him a toy usually snaps him out of it, but if the reason he’s upset is it’s time to change his diaper, lol, good luck to you.

So I’m just like really exhausted physically. Some weeks are worse than others. This one was rough bc there wasn’t any break time. Like you just can’t. My coworker was taking a break and said “I know I need to do all this stuff but I just have to sit down for a while” and I’m like yeah I get you. Lol. For me taking a break is: sitting down putting together crafts/doing paperwork. It’s still work but at least I’m sitting for fifteen minutes straight.

Part of the reason this week was especially crazy: one of our coworkers has been feeling unwell and took the whole week off. Based on past knowledge, I think it’s likely she’s totally burnt out, and I don’t blame her. But that meant we were understaffed. And when a school is understaffed, who helps? Subs! However...

Recently our sub quit! We knew it was coming, she’s been planning it for a year, and she’s going to do awesome things, so we’re happy for her.

But we MISSSSS the help x’D And we have a new sub, but she’s not just ours, of course, she goes where needed and it’s pretty much first come first serve. I have never seen another sub come to this school. For a while last year we had another woman coming, but she was actually a regular teacher who was supposed to be teaching at a completely different school. Since she had to go through training anyway, they just sent her to us, but of course eventually she had to leave to do the job she was actually hired to do :P

So yeah... we had one teacher out one week, other teachers out due to illness/planned PTO at various other times, and NO SUBS. The only time we had the sub was on one of the teacher’s planned PTO days. IE we knew in advance she’d be out. But even then it’s not a given. That same teacher will take a day off at the end of November - she’s planned it over a month in advance, and they still don’t have a sub. Instead some office staff will help, as was the case this week.

Here’s the problem that all of us teachers know, but no one cares about, when it comes to office staff subbing: THEY DON’T KNOW WHAT THE HELL THEY’RE DOING. They just don’t! They haven’t been trained in it. They don’t do it every day. Every now and then one of them has worked this job before, but it’s been so long that she doesn’t remember! Having office staff there is like having no extra help at all. It really is. The only thing you can say is “We kept our 1:6 ratio.” Another pair of eyes is good as well. At the very least, the office person can hopefully watch the kids and make sure they don’t try to kill themselves. But that is it. That leaves two teachers, and sometimes only one, if there are only 12 kids, to do EVERYTHINGGGG. And we do a LOT. Like. If you are working my job, and you are sitting, YOU ARE DOING IT WRONG. I would LIKE for you to be able to sit!! I would like to sit very much!! But there’s always always ALWAYS something that needs to be done. Break time is when you can sit, if you’re lucky enough to have it.

This is of course not the office staff’s fault. They are supposed to be doing their job, which is not this one, and it’s rough on them as well to be randomly sent elsewhere and get their own stuff backed up. (For that reason, we usually don’t even have the same office helper all day - one will be there for two hours, then switch with another for two hours, etc etc... which makes staying organized very difficult indeed.) The company should be hiring new subs is the issue. But I don’t know whether they’re not because they can’t afford it (we lost a lot of money thanks to the pandemic), or because no one wants to work for them (shit job offer plus few people currently not working wants to work in an ongoing pandemic... with the added difficulty of the sub needs to be able to communicate at least a little in English).

We have a new sub. I mentioned her before, that she’s nice but a bit slow-moving and doesn’t do anything without being asked first. She’s had time to adjust now and knows the routine well, especially at my school since that’s where she was trained. She is talking more confidently with the kids which is great. However, she’s still moving so slow, and she still doesn’t seem able to prioritize. She will do whatever she’s asked. I am probably expecting too much because that’s how tough it is on us when one of our normal staff is out.

As for that one sub we do have, I mentioned before that she’s nice but slow-moving, and probably just needed more time to get used to the routine. Well, she’s improved a bit in talking with the kids, but you do still need to tell her to do things. She doesn’t look around and find something to do if she’s sitting on her hands. She also doesn’t understand what to prioritize. So she’s not an amazing sub, but she does her job. She does what we ask. I don’t think she’s a slacker. I think the job is just ridiculously stressful until you’re really into the routine and rhythm. I am way more happy to have her than to have the office staff. Also, she came to us from subbing at the kindergarten, where the kids are older thus more independent and teachers can sit down while they play etc lol. So I think it was a bit of a shock at first how different things are when the kids are just 1-3 years younger than those kids.

The one thing that does bug me is how long she takes to eat lunch. Last time I sent her first to be polite, and she took at least 5 min in the staff room just heating up her lunch and then around twenty min to actually eat. Usually us teachers are in and out of the staff room in 2-3 min and eat in ten minutes, because we are actually still on duty watching the kids during that time. I figured she would learn the routine and either eat her full lunches later or eat smaller ones during the day, but she did it again this time. For just that reason I wasn’t going to send her first, but my coworker did instead. This time she took thirty minutes to eat, which meant there wasn’t time for my coworker and I to both eat. I let my coworker eat and she couldn’t even finish her whole lunch in that time. I didn’t eat until after 3 that day.

But once again... as annoyed as I feel... IT’S NOT THE SUB’S FAULT. How am I to tell her “You need to eat small lunches fast”???? Why can’t she eat a normal lunch in a normal lunch-eating time??? I think she should be able to! I think we should all be able to. But lit if you take what is a normal lunch break at other jobs, here it means your coworkers don’t get to eat. Heck, there are days that we have normal staff, no subs, and the teachers still don’t get to eat their lunch during the designated lunch time because the kids (usually in the 1-2 class) needed so much assistance. Like I said. If you sit down, you’ll be up again in one minute.

I remember, when I was an ALT, we were told we had to “set an example” for students by eating proper Japanese lunches sitting down in a desk and finishing everything. (Though there was a lot of leeway in that last case because different palettes x’D I can eat a lot of things I couldn’t before coming to Japan, but I still can’t eat nattou, and I never became able to finish the whole lunch in the allotted time. Kids would scarf down their food in ten minutes of the forty we had, I was like how!) I was so scared when I started this pre-K job that I would have to set a similar example at lunch time, but I think it’s pretty much recognized how impossible that is, because I never see anyone except that sub eat a full meal at lunch. One time a co-worker did ask me not to stand while eating in my first year, but at my current school no one’s ever cared... since the reason I’m standing is every time I go to sit a kid calls me over haha.

anyway this just like the month of stressssss. november will be similar but then we get a break. The trouble is the other things I have/want to do don’t go away just because I’m extra busy/tired. Honestly I would like to stay in my house all weekend for the next three weeks to recover from the work week but...

[sneyrwrites]

|1||ACE| Levi Ackerman X Reader

✘  ACE : ORIGINS  ✘

|WordCount: 2948 | Warnings!: Sexual Assault Attempt | 

The darkness offered her the shelter she needed to go unnoticed. The rhythmic sound of her footsteps on the ground kept her in some kind of trance, (Y/N) wasn’t paying attention to her surroundings, too focused on her thoughts. When she got the letter at her door followed by the classic knocking pattern on the old wood, she knew she had to get ready. Usually, the staff of “The Basement” notified the fighters with a few days prior before a fight, but it wasn’t the first time she had to hurry either. (Y/N) was relieved that her father was on duty that night guarding the Wall Maria. Usually he finished a few hours later than her arrival, and even if she got home later than usual, her father was knocked out cold on the couch, not even able to strip from his uniform and lay in bed.

In the Garrison his father was one of the few personnel that took the job seriously, earning the hatred from his colleges. They even called him “Paranoid”. Finch Müller was a splendid soldier, dedicated and a wonderful fighter. His passionate desire to exterminate the titans after his father’s death took him into the rows of the Army.  (Y/N) always found strange the fact that her father never joined the Scout legion, settling instead for the garrison. But once she got older, she understood the situation. Her mother Adrianne got pregnant when they were still young, so his father had to give up his dream of going outside the walls to provide for his family, assuring his survival, and calming his wife’s anxiety, even tho he was one of the top ten scores he opted for the garrison to be close to the walls just in case things went south.

Since she was six years old, his father had to take care of her just by himself. Her mother had passed away suddenly because of a disease that spread inside the walls. Unfortunately, his income was not enough, they could barely pay for the taxes and the food. Clothes was a privilege they could afford only sometimes. Medicine was almost impossible to access. One winter in particular had been extremely cold, and (Y/N) was forced to do everything she could do to survive. His father had forbidden her from working, not only because of her young age but also because his pride was too big to accept the fact that they were struggling. Finch started working double shifts, hoping to get some extra money in his pocket, but the pay day kept getting delayed and if things kept going that way they would’ve died from starvation or cold before seeing the goddamned money. Desperate (Y/N) found herself begging on the streets for some food or some clothes. Usually some friendly ladies took pity on her frail form and gifted a piece of bread or if she was lucky enough an old sweater or socks. Two years went on that way, without her father knowing of her ways. until things got really ugly really fast. When she had just turned thirteen, (Y/N) was roaming the streets in search of Mrs. Argón a mother of three, married to a merchant who, usually, gave her some old clothes from her daughter. She could never forget how the cold seeped into her shoes, freezing her little toes, even tho it was the beginning of autumn. It was getting late, and she needed to go back home, but (Y/N) refused to lay a foot on her house empty handed. She was so focused on her empty stomach that she failed to notice the presence of a man behind her. (Y/N) should've been more careful, her father always warned her about the dangers of wandering the streets alone. she knew she had to pay attention to her surroundings in order to survive. Her father lessons imprinted in her brain, but she had been careless. The hairs on the back of her neck raised before a hand covered her mouth, and another one sneaked to her waist, dragging her into the alley she had left behind moments ago. Somehow she got free from the vice grip the unknown man had on her body and she tried to run to the exit of the dark hallway she was forced into by that creep, but it wasn’t as easy as she thought. The man grabbed (Y/N) by the hair, pulling her backwards. The pain erupted in her skull, burning her scalp, she landed on the floor, she could see her attacker for the first time. His clothes were dirty, and his beard was a long and curly mess. His image was forever printed in her brain. From that close distance (Y/N) could smell the alcohol in his breath, revolving her stomach. the fear in her veins freezed her blood, never in her life she had never been as afraid as she was rigth there and then. Still gripping her hair, the man dragged her to the end of the alley, smashing her against the wall. falling to the ground, (Y/N) tried to scream, but when she opened her mouth a burning pain exploded on her cheek. That motherfucker had just punched her straight in the face. stars flashed before her eyes and a wave of dizziness hit her body. Her flight of fight instincts kicked in. (Y/N) knew she had to do something in the next few minutes, otherwise she wouldn’t make it out unscratched. The man pounced on her, but befor he could lay a hand on her she extended her leg, catching him streight on the nose. her kick wasn’t that strong to cause any damage, but it was enogh to get up from the floor and away from the wall. (Y/N) could’t do a single step in te direcion of the exit, because the drunken man grabed her arm, twiring her around. he forced her to walk backwards until the wall hit her back. His head went down and he took a breath in into the sking of her neck. his warm and wet exhale sent chill down her spine. trapped like she was (Y/N) diddn’t had that much options. the fear was starting to take control of her body as she stood completly still. Until the man dragged a hand down her stomach in the direction of her pants. As if she were a powder keg, she simply exploded. With a scream that could put any soldier to shame, the kid headbutted the pathetic excuse of a man that was standing infront of her, catching him dead on the chin. with a pained growl the man tok both of his hands to his face, trying to soothe the pain, taking a step back and away from the girl. that extra space allowed (Y/N) to lift her knee and hit her abuser in the groin. he fell to the ground on his knees with a silent scream trapped in his throut. Rage took control of her body. (Y/N) floored hin in a swift motion and started to hit his face, delivering one punch after the oher without mercy. Blood was flying everywere, but it was imposible to pinpoint were it was coming from, it could be from the broken nose of the attacker, or it could also come from her battered knuckles. she didn’t care about the pain she was causing on herself, too blinded by the fury to stop. (Y/N) grabbed the man by the hair, ignoring his moaning protests, she lifted his head from the ground only to smashit against the floor repetaldy. she would never forget the sound of the man’s skull colliding against the cold stone over and over again. Her wrist ached because of the effort, but (Y/N) could not snap out of it.

She was so lost inside her head that she didn’t notice the pair of hands grabbing her from her armpits, trying to take her away from the unconscious body of her abuser who now had a swollen face. Struggling against the hold, she trashed around, landing one last kick to the drunken man before being dragged away. The sunset light hit her face, and she came back to it.

She looked down at her hands, covered in blood. She winced when she noticed the skin on her knuckles destroyed, letting the muscles peak trough. Once the adrenaline started to retreat from her body she felt the pain, as her body shook violently.

 (Y/N) still hadn’t seen who took her out of the alley, and her face turned pale when she turned around and noticed the roses on the patch of the garrison soldier right in front of her. Without a word, the man grabbed her by the arm and started leading her somewhere, almost dragging her along. Her legs were barely responding, and she almost hit the ground twice, but the firm grip on her bicep stopped her from falling down. She was sure of her doom, prison calling her name. She wasn’t sure of the condition of her abuser, but she was suddenly worried about his condition. What if she’d killed him? Her father would be so disappointed on her, he would put the blame on his shoulders without a doubt. The officer still didn’t spoke a word to her, and the panic was starting to kick in again.

They left the circulated area behind as the light kept going down. With every passing second she was fearing more and more for her future. After what felt like hours, they arrived at an apparently,

 unoccupied house. The windows were boarded up from the inside, and the shattered glass distorted her reflection as she looked up.

Without letting her go, the garrison searched his pocket with his free hand, and he pulled out a key.

When the door clicked open, he made her go in first, locking it behind him. Inside the room it was pitch black, to the point where (Y/N) could not even make out the outlines of furniture in the darkness. The soldier pushed her further in and her guts constricted with fear, she recoiled on herself a little, trying to protect herself. If the man tried to pull something on her, she was too tired to fight back.

The sound of a chair being dragged on the floorboards made her jolt.

She just stood there, standing in the middle of the room, almost glued to the ground. The guard departed from her, but she could still hear his footsteps in the next room over. He seemed to search for something.

After a few minutes the light from a candle chased away the darkness, and the kid was able to take in her surroundings.

It was a modest home, with only a few furniture items. A small square table was in the center, with two chairs on either side of it. The Garrison guard took a sit on one. PLACING THE LIT CANDLE on top of the table. he indicated her to sit in the other available chair and proceeding to cross his arms across his chest.

With clumsy and insecure moves the young girl obeyed him, fully intimidated by the man in front of her. His eyes piercing through her soul, while she wasn’t capable to look at him.

“All right, I hope you are aware of the amount of trouble you’re in.” He started “My name is Annton and i’ts obvious I’m a soldier of the Garrison Regiment”

He paused, waiting for some kind of response. (Y/N) only nodded her head, not a single word coming out of her mouth.

“Good, what you did was terrible. I’m not sure if you are aware of the amount of damage you made upon that man. ¿Care to explain what happened?” Another silence followed his voice.

(Y/N) Opened her mouth, but closed it again right after. She could not process everything that happened that day, and to be honest she wasn’t even sure she wanted to. She was simply unable to put anything into words. In that moment she felt less like a human and more like a cornered animal. One without claws or sharp teeths.

“Well, if you don’t want to talk, I guess we’ll just go and search for your parents " (Y/N) stared at her hands. “LOOK AT MY FACE WHEN I’M TALKING TO YOU!” He exclaimed, his fist smashing against the surface of the table. The candle wobbled a little because of the impact.

The sudden violence attack seemed to snap her out of the stupor. She raised her eyes, a little more aware and in focus. The man in front of her relaxed his shoulders, crossing his arms once again, leaning back on the chair.

For the first time in the night, (Y/n) could analyze his face. Annton was in his late twenties, with a handsome face and a beard covering his jawline. His hair was neat and clean, as well as his clothes. She couldn’t help but to feel self conscious of her dirty and blood-stained shirt. His eyes seemed to be brown, but they could  be green too, she couldn’t be sure with the weak lighting.

“I asked you something. Who are your parents kid? “His patience see to be running down.

(Y/N) tried not to show the fear that was running through her veins. If his father found out about he would be so disappointed. She couldn’t permit it, he was already stressed enough with his work, she refused to put more on his shoulders with her problems.

Annton stared at her, waiting for an answer. 

“They die because of the plage” The lie slipped effortlessly from her lips. She silently asked his father for forgivness.

A spark of interest shone behind his eyes. Annton leaned fowards on the table,resting his elbows on it.

“Oh my! it seems like we have a problem kid, " (y/n) didn’t like the smile on his face one bit “Who is going to pay the fine for your little street fight? You have the money i assume.- The satisfaction radiating from him was almost palpable.

That little detail didn’t even crossed her mind, there was no way in the world she could pay the infraction he was implying.

“No…” She whispered, defeated, with a shaky voice.

“Well, that’s a shame. Jail time it is.” Annton’s smile grew on his face, as if he was entertained by all the mess she was in.

Even tho what he said, he did not move from the chair and just stared at her,

The nerves were consuming her, she was going to faint at any moment. (Y/N) couldn't tell if her vision was blurry because of the tears or if her conscious was for real abandoning her. Observing her altered state, Annton reclined further into his chair, almost as if he was sizing her up.

“Or…” He paused “We could work up a deal”

Her eyes shone with relief and what little innocence she still had within her surfaced Annton smiled satisfied

“I wil. ” She answered, her voice devoid of doubt.

“Don’t you want to know what the deal is about?” He asked, eyebrows raised.

“I don’t care as long as my debt is forgiven.” 

The silence returned for a few seconds, only to be suddenly interrupted when Annton bursted out laughing. He scared the poor girl to death, who only managed to shrink down in the chair even more.

“Wow, I like you kid! “He said when he was able to calm down his laughter " But i wouldn’t call it ‘forgive’…It’s more like a payment plan”

(Y/N) was confused. The sufficient look he was giving her making the alarms went off in her brain. 

-There’s this thing called the basement,” He explained “Only a selected group of people know about it, and I think you could fit right in”

“And what is it about?” Her distrust growing.

“Nothing much… You just spar against another person until one of you can't keep going. The spectators place bets and a part of the raised money goes to the winner,” His smiled turned spooky. He was enjoying her fear a little too much. “Don’t worry, the referee stops the fight before someone dies. But if you're not sure you can always go to jail, it’s up to you, really.” 

(Y/N) was petrified. The only experience she had on fighting was his father’s training sessions, and the encounter with the drunk man, and none of them counted. His father was always gentle with her and the drunken rapist was too intoxicated to coordinate properly.She was against a wall and a really hard place. If she refused she was going to be behind bars, her father not able to find her again. But if she agreed to do it, it was certain her face was going to be disfigured by the blows.

Annton seemed to notice her indecision, and he got up from the chair all of the sudden, making it fall to the ground with a loud bang. He circled the table and yanked (Y/N) up by the arm.

“Then off to the cell we go.” The icy fingers stabbed the inside of her upper arm.

Closing her eyes she took courage

“I’ll do it” His steps halted.

“Fantastic!” He clapped his hands. Like his sudden change of behavior was completely normal Annton circled her shoulder with his arm. “What’s your name kid?”

She was not up to revealing anything from her life to him, she was already too deep into the lie.

She remembered the card game she was playing with his father earlier that day and she said the first thing that came to her mind.

“People call me Ace” Annton repeated her fake name, raising his eyebrow, exceptic.

“What a weird name” He said, the truth behind his words obvious. He thought it was a hideous name.

“Yeah, I wasn’t exactly planned” she replied as casually as she could

Annton chuckled as he opened the door, leading her outside

“I have the feeling we’re going to get along just fine Ace”

She wasn’t as sure.

                                                  Next:  ✘

[maxineswritingcenter]

Swan Song Prequal

@happy-little-winchester didn't ask for this buttttttt I wanted to write it anyway. It was part of the memories from the original imagine that I wanted to explore.

Summary: the reader and Dean went out on a hunt and they get captured and separated. Angst ensues. Hell yeah. This is about a season before the previous imagine taking place.

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

The hunt was supposed to be easy. In and out vampire nest. Ten years ago that would have been a four person job but now? It was like a day trip. Dean wanted to go by himself, but (Y/N) insisted on tagging along. Hunters were supposed to have back up, whether they were a Winchester or not. Dean needed to blow off steam, he just came back from Hell. Dragged back by a literal angel, he had the hand mark to prove it. 

But this wasn’t easy. They'd find that out the hard way. 

They were sweeping through the old warehouse that all the clues brought us to. The place was huge. Didn’t seem like the place for a vamp nest. What, with all the holes in the ceiling, sunlight was coming right through. Something just didn’t seem right. 

“Something’s wrong,” (Y/N)  whispered, “This doesn’t make any sense.” 

Dean looked at her over his shoulder, “What do you mean?” 

“The sunlight, the location, something just isn’t sitting right with me. We should go back to the motel and recheck our info.” She stopped, looking around. Dean stopped as well, turning to face her. 

“We don’t need to recheck. I did the research. This place is known for drifters, perfect place for a vampire nest with a steady food supply. Everything leads to here.” He said, already on edge. 

“That’s the thing, Dean. This place is the perfect place. It’s damp and dirty, there’s blood on the walls. It’s like a movie set for Buffy the Vampire Slayer.” At (Y/N)’s words, he looked around. 

He shook his head, “It’s perfect for a nest because it is a nest. See,” He shook his head, “This is why I didn’t want you to come. You’ve been second guessing everything I’ve done since I got out of hell.” 

(Y/N) raised her eyebrows in disbelief, “Second guessing? I’ve been making sure that we’re going in smart. You just got out of hell, we don’t want you to go back. That’s why we’ve been-” She stopped herself short. In her anger she let the whole plan slip.

Dean chuckled, “I knew it. You and Sam have been hiding hunts from me. Look, I knew Sam would lie to me, but you? I can take care of myself, thank you very much. I don’t need a babysitter watching over me. I know what I’m doing.” And just as his words ended, the world went to black. 

-

Once (Y/N) came to, the first thing she noticed was a pain in the back of her head and the fact that she was tied to a chair. Dean was already awake, staring her down. He was absolutely pissed. But so was she. 

“You know exactly what you’re doing, huh?” She groaned, realizing they must have been there for a while because her ass was killing her. No words. Not at all like him. 

She sighed, “I get it. You’re pissed off at me. But I was only trying to protect you.” 

He gave her a sly grin and rolled his eyes, “Protect me? Why would I need protecting from you?” Alright, that one hurt.

“Because you’re reckless and don’t think about the chance that you could get hurt. Because you think that you’re untouchable. You're not, Dean! There are people like Bobby and Rufus because they know when they need help” She took a deep breath, “They know when they went too big for their britches. You don’t. You’re selfish and arrogant. And after we get out of this...” The back of her throat burned at the unfinished words and the feelings that came with it. 

“After we get out of this what? You’re gonna leave? Well that’s fine by me, don’t let the door hit ya on the way out.” He spat. She looked away from him, her chest ached to  scream at him. He wanted her to leave. Didn’t want her to stay. Fine. If that’s what he wanted. 

From across the room a door opened. A voice called out, “Well, well, well. a Winchester and the puppy who follows.” It was the baker from town who originally told them about the warehouse being “haunted”. 

“Makin’ muffins just wasn’t cutting it, was it?” Dean taunted him. The baker only smiled and walked closer. 

“Look, this is just a me thing with a couple buddies. We’re not hurting anybody who matters. They’re homeless. The bottom feeders of society. Nobody is going to miss them.” He chuckled, flashing his row of sharp teeth. 

“They aren’t nobody. They’re people. Regardless who they are, they’re a lot better than scavengers like you who prey on the weak.” The vampire chuckled under his breath which made her heart practically stop. 

“You know what, you got some spunk, kid. That’ll be useful around here. Just a little matter of business to do.” From his belt he unsheathed a large silver knife. (Y/N) sucked in a breath, and watched in horror as he stabbed Dean in the chest with one swift motion. 

-

Dean slowly woke up, looking around the dark dirty room. He pulled at his restraints. Thick ropes in a metal chair. In the chair directly across from him, (Y/N) was still out. He clenched his jaw and shook his head. He found a notch in the chair, and began whittling away at the ropes.

He knew what he was doing. If she would have just listened to him... But at the same time, he had been wrong. When they got taken, they were in direct sunlight. No vampire would go into the sunlight. There was something else going on here. 

His attention was brought up to her as she slowly came to. Once the realization had set in about their situation, her eyes met his. And she was pissed.

“You know exactly what you’re doing, huh?” (Y/N) groaned, then when she looked closer, her face softened.

She sighed, “I get it. You’re pissed off at me. But I was only trying to protect you.”

He gave her a sly grin and rolled his eyes, “Protect me? Why would I need protecting from you?” Her eyes widened and she frowned. Maybe that was too far but he was too proud.

“Because you’re reckless and don’t think about the chance that you could get hurt. Because you think that you’re untouchable. You're not, Dean! There are people like Bobby and Rufus because they know when they need help” She took a deep breath, “They know when they went too big for their britches. You don’t. You’re selfish and arrogant. And after we get out of this...” 

“After we get out of this what? You’re gonna leave? Well that’s fine by me, don’t let the door hit ya on the way out.” He spat. She looked away from him. He could tell that he hurt her. And that’s what he wanted. But at the same time that’s not what he wanted. He didn’t want her to leave. 

From across the room a door opened. A voice called out, “Well, well, well. a Winchester and the puppy who follows.” It was the Butcher from town who originally told them about the warehouse being “haunted”.

“Makin’ muffins just wasn’t cutting it, was it?” Dean taunted him. The butcher only smiled and walked closer.

“Look, this is just a me thing with a couple buddies. We’re not hurting anybody who matters. They’re homeless. The bottom feeders of society. Nobody is going to miss them.” He chuckled, flashing his row of sharp teeth.

“They aren’t nobody. They’re people. Regardless who they are, they’re a lot better than scavengers like you who prey on the weak.” (Y/N) stared him down. The vampire chuckled under his breath which made her heart practically stop.

“You know what, you got some spunk, kid. Too bad I don’t like spunk.” From his belt he unsheathed a large silver knife. Dean sucked in a breath, and watched in horror as he stabbed (Y/N) in the chest with one swift motion.

-

“NO!” (Y/N) screamed, pulling at her restraints. Dean sputtered before his breath became blood and she watched the life drain from his eyes.

“YOU SON OF A BITCH!” She screamed so loud her throat hurt and with everything she had, she tore through the ropes binding her. The vampire looked at her in shock. He yanked the knife from Dean’s chest and held it out to defend himself. She was quicker. She kicked him in the chest, knocking him into the wall. The impact made him drop the knife. 

(Y/N) she kicked him again in the throat, he grabbed her foot, baring his fangs at her. She took the opportunity to punch him straight in the eyes. He cried out and let go. From the ground, she grabbed the knife and sliced the vampire’s head clean off. (Y/N) dropped the blade and went to Dean’s side, kneeling down to face him. 

“Dean-” (Y/N) began but her words caught in her throat. He was gone. Dead. She kept her lips tight to hold back her sobs. She went to touch his face but stopped. Her heart raced and her rage fueled her. She grabbed the knife again and stood up, making her way out the door and finding the next unlucky son of a bitch that stood in her way. 

-

Dean shouted as he watched (Y/N)’s face twist in pain and the blood pool from her mouth. She stared into his eyes until the light within them was snuffed out. 

“You SON OF A BITCH! Dean shouted. He finally cut the ropes and broke free, using the metal chair to to smack the vampire. The knife was yanked free of (Y/N)’s chest and clattered to the floor. The vampire grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed him into a wall. Dean headbutted him and threw him down to the floor. Dean grabbed the knife, gripping it tight. He could feel (Y/N)’s blood dripping down onto his hand. 

“When you get to hell, send a postcard.” Dean grunted and slashed the vampire’s head clean off. He stepped over the body to the hallway. Marching down the fall to find every last bastard in the place. He ran into a group of vampires on the way to the room. But only found Dean and his vengeance. 

-

(Y/N) had killed a few vampires and was making her way towards the center of the nest when she saw her... Or more she saw herself. Shirt was bloody, enough blood to kill a man. But not a shapeshifter. The shifter stared back at her, stopped in her tracks. 

‘What the f-” Before she could finish, the shifter ran at her. The shifter ran at her, knocking her into the floor, the knife clattering beside her. (Y/N) flipped them both so that she was on top, whipping her fist across the impostor’s face. 

“What did you do to him?” (Y/N) grabbed her collar. The shifter laughed and spat blood at her. 

“I’m gonna pick him outta my teeth.” She hummed. (Y/N) grabbed the knife again and cut her head off. As she caught her breath, something caught her eye. A small black bud in her ear. She grabbed it and on closer inspection, it was a tiny headphone like something out of the spy movies. Like a little walkie talkie. 

-

Dean walked down the hallways, killing any poor bastard that got in his way. Just as he turned the corner, he was face to face with himself.

“Not every day a shifter works with a vampire.” Dean retightened his grip on the knife. 

“Yeah well it is everyday when I hear that broad of yours scream.” The shifter smirked. Dean glared and went on the attack. Dean slashed with the knife but the shifter grabbed his arm and slammed it against the wall, knocking the knife to the floor. Dean headbutted him, making the shifter get back. 

“Where is she?” Dean sneered. 

The shifter licked his lips and smiled, “Don’t worry about her. Or what left of her. I said to turn her. Or at least let her bring in a new generation of me.” Dean took the time between then and the shifter’s gloat to slice his head off. 

Dean let out the the breath he had been holding in and dropped the knife. He backed up against the wall, slowly sliding down. He started breathing heavily, squeezing his eyes shut. He should have saved her. He shouldn’t have been so arrogant and stupid. 

But that didn’t make sense. Why would a vampire nest be working with shifters? Unless they used the shifters to mess with their victims head, like they were seeing something or someone they cared about. But he watched her die. Watched her life drain from her eyes. She was gone. And it was all his fault. 

“Dean!” His head shot up and he about snapped his neck looking down the hall. There, like an angel, she stood. Bloody and ragged, just like he was. But she was alive. He slowly got to his feet. 

“Tell me something only (Y/N) would know!” He called. 

“When you met me you bet Sam that I wouldn’t last a day. You still owe him twenty bucks.” Her voice was shaking, “You tell me something.” 

“I don’t want you to leave.” Dean said, like the words were pulled from his throat. He started making his way towards her. (Y/N) dropped her weapon and sprinted towards him. When they met, she jumped up and wrapped her arms around his neck. 

(Y/N) gripped onto his jacket tightly, pressing herself against him. He felt whole. She could feel his chest rise and fall, he felt alive. Dean grinned, wrapping one arm around her waist and his other hand held the back of her head. They stayed like that for a while before he heard her soft voice in his ears. 

“Can we go home?” 

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

Here’s Swan Song

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[afewmarvelousthoughts]

Only For A Moment Ch. 46

Master: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Summary: For most of your life you’d been able to keep your abilities a secret, that is until Hydra got wind of you. After years of being in their clutches, you break out when The Avengers expose SHIELD/Hydra. Since then, you’ve been on the run. Things are going as well as you could hope when you see a familiar face… Could the Winter Soldier really be in Bucharest too?

Warnings: Canon violence, blood, trauma, feels

A/N: SURPRISE! Remember how I was like there are two more chapters (making this the final one)? Remember how I’m a liar? Yeah. Good times.  There is one chapter after this that will put a bow on this long and winding part one of OFAM. 

I’m deep in my feelings. I hope you all enjoy it. 

And, of course, shout out to @wonderlandmind4​ for being my beta and supporting my bullshit. (God read everything she does it’s wonderful.)

Tags are open!

When Steve offers to drive to the rendezvous with Sharon Carter you aren’t inclined to argue. You’d passed out the night before but it was nowhere near enough. 

In the back of the Beetle, you curl up next to Bucky, not that there was much choice. He tucks you under his arm and the sound of his steady heart paired with the motion of the car lull you back to dreamless sleep. You don’t stir until you hear Steve’s door creak open. 

Bucky shifts a bit next to you, clearly uncomfortable in the cramped space, trying not to jam his knees into Sam’s back as Steve had to him the night before. Glowering a bit at Sam for clearly ignoring his situation. 

He looks in the rearview mirror at Sam, “Can you move your seat up?” His tone measured, clearly trying to sound polite despite his annoyance. 

“No,” Sam says completely deadpan, not even bothering to meet Bucky’s stern gaze in the mirror. 

Silence lingers. Bucky attempts to shift just a little closer to you though there’s nowhere to go. You look between the two men and a laugh bubbles up. You try to contain it but Sam’s expression pushes you over the edge and you cackle, the sound filling the car. 

“You are the smallest person here so I don’t want to hear a thing from you.” His tone is serious but you catch the faintest glimmer of a smile in the mirror. 

Your laughter fades into an uncomfortable grimace as soon as Agent Carter turns her gaze to the three of you. With a tight smile on your lips, you lift your hand in a weak wave.  

“A wave, really?” Sam throws a sideways glance your way. 

“Just trying to be polite.”

“From what I hear you beat her ass yesterday. I think polite is out the window.” Sam gets out to help Steve with the gear. 

“Why’d you attack her?” Bucky asks. 

“She was going for you.” 

“Not like she didn’t have a good reason to.”

“Yeah, well-” you shrug- “I also headbutted the Black Widow so I’m down two for two on my girl power points.” He chuckles pressing a kiss to your temple. 

With the car stuffed with bodies and gear, Steve steers you toward the airport. The closer you get the heavier the silence, each person wrapped in their own fears and concerns. 

In an attempt to calm your racing thoughts you lean your ear back against Bucky’s chest, counting the steady beats. It doesn’t do much but remind you just what you’ll do, what you’ll sacrifice, to protect this heart. 

The moment Steve parks, you feel your stomach flip. Your gaze flits to Bucky’s only to see him looking down at you too. Sam and Steve step out but the two of you linger for a moment, knowing it may be the last time you have alone. 

“We’re gonna get through this. Together,” he says it like he’s trying to convince himself as much as you. You try to take a deep breath and nod. 

“We should-” 

“Yeah,” he cuts you off. 

You reach forward to push the driver’s seat up. He pulls you back kissing you deeply. Breathless his lips hover above yours. Your heart skitters, the intensity in his gaze sending chills down your spine. 

Though you both want this moment to stretch, to last forever, you know it can’t. Begrudgingly he pulls back, allowing you enough room to extricate yourself from the cramped quarters. 

As you get out you catch the gaze of someone you recognize from Avenger’s coverage to be Clint Barton. He looks from you to Bucky, eyebrow cocked up in a knowing gaze. Feeling like a kid who’s been caught making out behind the bleachers you quickly turn away, rounding the car to stand beside Bucky as the five of them continue to chat. 

He slides his hand in your’s giving it a squeeze before interrupting, “We should get moving.”

Before anyone can respond a voice crackles over the airport intercom. As the announcer repeats the evacuation notice you glance up at Bucky, the muscle in his jaw twitching. 

“Stark,” Sam and Steve echo. 

“You’re not wearing that?” Clint nods to Cap, a smirk on his face. Steve shakes his head and pops open the trunk, stuffed with their contraband gear. 

“Let’s find someplace to get our bearings,” Steve says as he hands Sam his wings. 

You all hunker down in what seems to be a large custodian closet. There’s just enough space for you all but no extra room for modesty, not that it matters much to you. 

Geared up, everyone makes quick introductions, to both each other and who or rather what you’re all facing. The details out of the way Steve begins to layout a plan of attack as best he can, given the limited information available.

“We’ll split,” Steve says. “Bucky, you and Sam head into the terminal. If Stark and the others are here they’ll have the jet. Find it.” Bucky slides you a sidelong glance, drawing you closer, but doesn’t protest. 

“Wanda, you and Clint stick together and be my distance support. Scott, Y/N, you’re with me. They don’t know what either of you can do so the element of surprise will be useful if it comes to that.” 

Steve looks at everyone, every inch the leader, “Ready?” Nods from all, “Let’s make this as quick and clean as possible. No one needs to get hurt.” 

Before you head to follow Steve Bucky pulls you to him suddenly, his kiss fleeting and a touch desperate. His mouth opens as if to say something but he shakes his head. Lifting your hand to his lips he kisses your knuckles. As soon as he releases your hand you turn on your heel and sprint to catch up with Steve, too afraid that if you stop or look back that you’ll lose your nerve. 

From your position behind a storage container, you can clearly hear every word that falls from Tony Stark’s pompous mouth. Somehow each syllable makes you angrier than the last. You know Steve is just stalling but you have to actually hold your tongue between your teeth to keep from telling him to fuck himself.

A voice that sounds far too young to be here hits your ears and you almost peek out. Bigger fish, Y/N, you coach yourself. 

Finally, Sam’s voice comes through the comms, “We found it.” 

“Alright, guys,” Steve says. 

This was your go. The tension in your muscles release, and you spring to the top of the container and over to Steve, your feet never once touching the ground. 

“Who the hell?” The guy you assume is James Rhodes says. His body language showing the surprise you can’t see on his face. 

You couldn’t blame him. Lang, lands by you and Steve, handing him his shield, now back to his normal size in a matter of seconds. It was impressive and a little jarring to even you. 

To her credit, Romanoff doesn’t look the least bit phased. She gives Lang a once over, clearly trying to assess him. When her appraising stare falls to you, you’re a bit surprised to see more admiration than anger in her expression considering your last encounter. 

Stark, however, wastes no time. He heads for Wanda and Clint while Rhodes clocks Bucky and Sam’s position. 

You’re ready to move on Rhodes when King T’Challa growls, “Barnes is mine!” 

“The hell he is!” You wrap your power around his torso as he sprints for the terminal, tugging him back hard, as Steve launches his shield at T’Challa’s back. 

“Cover Rhodes,” Steve says as he pursues T’Challa. 

There isn’t time to argue though you want to. You can better handle someone with air proficiency and Steve is better suited for the ground. Still...

“Got it,” you grudgingly acknowledge turning to face Rhodes as he pulls out an oversized stun baton. Could he have picked a weapon you hated more?

“Look, I don’t know who you are but… I really suggest you stand down,” he says. 

“Thanks for the suggestion,” you say, a shit-eating grin plastered on your face. 

Ensnaring the baton in your grasp you pull it from him. Simultaneously you land another invisible blow directly to the middle of his chest that sends him spinning back. The baton comes straight into your waiting palm just before he rights himself. 

“What the hell?!” He exclaims once more as you brandish his own weapon. 

“This thing is hefty-” you give it a once over- “overcompensating?” 

“Real funny,” he quips before shooting straight for you. 

He’s fast, but a big target is easy for you to get a feel of. Thrusting your power before you like a net, he slams into it. The reverberations of the impact thrum through your brain, pain sizzling at the edges of your vision. 

Pushing the discomfort aside you lift yourself from the ground, propelling yourself up and over him by stepping on his helmet. Pulling your power back he tumbles forward, you lasso his ankles, slamming him to the ground as you land behind him. 

The instant he moves to turn you swing the baton with all your force, landing it in his shoulder. Between the impact and the electricity, it manages to short the suit--at least for now. 

You’re going to have to tell Bucky he was right. All those hours of training did pay off. Damn. 

“Uh… can we get some assistance,” Sam’s voice pipes up in the comms. “We’re a little… tied up.”

“Heading your way,” you respond, sprinting toward the terminal. 

You try, you really do, to not laugh when you see them. Despite your best efforts and the absolute shit show of this entire situation you fail. The two of them are stuck to the ground with the same substance that spider kid had shot at Steve. 

“Really boys? You let a 12-year-old get the drop on you?”

Bucky stands, brushing the webbing off his arms. “He may be a kid but he stopped my left hook like it was nothing.” Your brows raise in surprise. “Who the hell would bring a kid into this?” Bucky’s expression is black with rage. 

“Stark,” is all Sam says in response. 

The three of you hustle from the terminal, running full tilt to catch up with the others. You coalesce and for a moment it actually feels like you’re going to make it to the jet, like just maybe this is going to work. That fleeting hope is severed when a beam from somewhere above you blasts a literal line into the tarmac. 

You stumble back a bit into Bucky’s arms. He presses you tight against him as you both look up to see someone straight out of science fiction--Vision, Steve called him. 

Even with the quite literal line drawn you all know there is no turning back now. There is too much at risk if you do. 

Bucky’s arms tighten almost imperceptibly before releasing you, gesturing for you to take Wanda’s side. You do so, the two of you exchanging a meaningful glance. 

“What’d we do Cap?” Sam asks, though his tone says he knows the answer as well as the rest of you. 

“We fight,” Steve replies joylessly. 

Everything that follows happens so fast. 

You and Wanda fall into a fast rhythm, tag-teaming the aerial targets by lobbing projectiles in an attempt to ground them. While your aim is excellent her force far outweighs yours. 

“I’ll hold you land the hit,” you call to her. She nods. You grip the kid mid-swing and she slams a piece of debris into him knocking him down. “Damn you’re good!”

“You’re not too bad either,” she grins. 

Before you turn your focus to Rhodes you glance around to spot Bucky. He’s going hard blow for blow with T’Challa. 

Wanda and you exchange a glance. She nods and you split. 

Running at a dead sprint you try to catch T’Challa’s next blow before it finds it’s target, but you’re too slow. He lands a kick that sends Bucky careening into a stack of crates with a sickening crack. 

T’Challa stalks forward, blocking your view of Bucky’s collapsed body, with claws out. There is no time to consider if Bucky is even conscious. He’ll kill him, is the only thought you have. 

Sending your power out to T’Challa, you’re surprised to only find purchase on the surface, unable to sink under his suit to do any internal harm. It doesn’t matter though. 

Mustering a level of force that sends shivers through your body you hurl him away from Bucky. T’Challa rights himself in the air landing gracefully, claws sparking against the concrete, as you place yourself between Bucky’s unconscious form and him. 

“You,” he growls. The word barely hits your ear before he charges. 

His attacks are painfully quick with a fluidity you’ve never encountered. Even Bucky wasn’t this good. He lands several blows but your power reacts instinctively, cushioning them enough that you aren’t brought down. Soon you are able to hone in on his rhythm, managing several good moments of contact yourself. 

“This isn’t about you!” 

“It is if it’s about him,” you spit back. 

He roars in frustration, his leg swinging to kick your feet from under you. It’s the slightest bit less refined than his other moves, nowhere near sloppy but it’s enough that you’re able to clock it quickly. You kick away from the ground, landing behind him. 

This gives you the advantage you need. You manage a well-placed blow to the backs of his knees and he falls forward. Winding your power around his middle you squeeze tight enough to hear a small gasp and force him away. 

You only glance behind you for a breath, just wanting to see if Bucky was ok. The relief from seeing him get to his feet doesn’t have the chance to sink in. Turning back all to the fight before you all you register is a block blur before searing pain tears through your chest. 

“Y/N!” Bucky screams. 

But you don’t make a sound. Your eyes are fixed on the splashes of red spattering the concrete as you hit your knees, still not registering that it’s yours despite the pain. A shaking hand rises to your chest, coming away covered in blood from four deep gouges.  

A feral sound draws your eyes up to see Bucky attacking T’Challa with a ferocity you’ve never seen. Still, he holds Bucky back until you see a red cloud grab hold of him, throwing him away. 

“Doll!” Bucky calls out, running to your side. He grabs your shoulders, jostling the wounds on your chest. 

Now you scream. 

“Fuck,” he breathes. 

“I’ve got her,” Wanda’s voice from behind you. It’s strange to be moved like this by a force that’s not your own. Wanda’s power—red, warm, tingling like static—gently moves you, resting your back against the crates Bucky had been thrown against a moment before. 

“Y/N’s down,” Bucky says in a tight voice. 

“I’m ok,” you say through clenched teeth. “Go.” Wanda gives you one last look before listening. Unsurprisingly Bucky doesn’t budge. “Bucky-”

“Don’t,” he cuts you off, unable to take his eyes from the wounds in your chest.

His hands hover awkwardly over you, unsure where to touch you to avoid causing more pain. He settles on resting a tentative hand on your thigh. When he finally looks you in the face his expression is something you’ve never seen—a terrifying combination of utter fear and abject rage. 

“Holy shit,” Steve breathes as he crouches next to you both. 

“’ Tis but a scratch,” you say attempting to sit up straighter. Bucky’s eyes narrow. “Seriously, I’m going to be fine.” And you suspected you weren’t lying, the blood had already slowed some even if it hurt like hell. 

“How’re we gonna get her to the jet?” Steve asks. You’re a little touched by the deep concern in his tone. 

“We aren’t,” Sam says over the comms. 

“What?!” Bucky bellows so loud you flinch. 

“There’s no way all of us are getting out of here,” Sam responds. 

“As much as I hate to admit that Wilson’s right-”

“He is right,” you cut off the rest of Clint’s words covering Bucky’s hand with yours. “You two have to go.”

“No,” his voice shakes. 

“We’ve got her back,” Sam reassures. 

“Absolutely,” Clint says backing him. 

“Don’t ask me to do this,” Bucky choaks out. 

With a shaking blood-stained hand, you push a strand of hair from his eyes. “This is bigger than us.” 

“Dammit,” he says through clenched teeth. “Fine. Ok.” 

“Alright, Lang,” Steve confers over the comms, having been laying out a plan while you convinced Bucky. “On your mark.” 

“Help me up,” you ask Bucky.

“You really should-”

“I’d rather be on my feet.” Begrudgingly, he helps you stand on shaky legs. 

Leaning into Bucky for support, you watch in wonder as Lang becomes the size of a jet. An awestruck laugh bubbles up before you can stop it, moving the muscles in your chest causing you to hiss in pain. 

“Y/N?” Bucky asks, tone frantic. You pat his chest reassuringly. 

“Guess that’s the signal,” Steve throws a look at you both. 

Bucky’s eyes are desperate, still, you say, “Go.”

He takes your face in his hands, kissing you deeply before pulling back. “I love you.” 

“I love all of you.”

“Remember your promise.” It’s not a question. 

You nod, “Don’t make me keep it and I won’t make you.” 

“Deal,” he says with a sad smile. 

“We gotta go,” Steve says. 

Bucky backs away from you slowly before turning to run. The wounds in your chest nothing compared to the hurt of watching him go. 

Your fight isn’t done. Cradling your left arm across your chest, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure on the wound you start to make your way forward.

“Nope,” Clint drops down in front of you. “Sit your ass down.” 

“I-” He cuts you off with a look and you lean against the crates until he’s satisfied. It only lasts until you see the blast from Vision sending debris tumbling to block Bucky and Steve’s entry to the jet. 

You hardly breathe as you run, pain searing through your chest, clouding your vision. Wanda catches everything giving them enough space to get through before Rhodes hits her with something sending her to her knees. 

Anger swells within you, momentarily taking place of the pain. You heave Rhodes away from Wanda before collapsing yourself. Clint rushes to your side, holding you up. 

“What did I say?” 

“I’m a bad listener.” 

“Clearly.” He positions himself behind you so you’re able to lean into him. 

The jet bursts from the hanger and you feel yourself relax. They can do this, they can fix this. Steve will bring him back. 

“What now?” You ask Clint.

“We wait.” 

-

None of you fight back when military police descend on the airstrip knowing this is what you signed up for by staying. Medical whisks Rhodes away and sees to the kid in the spider suit while you sit on the tarmac bleeding, breathing through the pain. 

“Anyone, gonna get to her?!” Sam berates the officers. 

“It’s fine Sam.”

“It’s not. You’ve lost a lot of blood, Y/N.” He looks around, “Hey! Come on!” 

“That’s enough,” one of them remarks before grabbing Sam’s arms and forcefully cuffing them behind his back. 

Hands come from behind you as well, grabbing your forearms and wrenching your arms behind you. You can’t hold in the scream as the motion pulls the gashes across your chest open wide, fresh blood seeping into your ruined shirt. 

A chorus of anger rises from your ragtag team, though the words are lost in the onslaught of pain. That is until someone kneels in front of you, pressing a clean towel to your chest. 

“Thank… you,” you manage, trying to gulp in air. 

“You’re welcome,” a woman’s voice says. “Maybe don’t head butt me this time.” You look up to see Romanoff. 

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Your eyes squeeze shut as your body sways from blood loss. 

She steadies you, pressing the towel tighter against your chest. “What is Barnes to you that he’s worth this.”

You look up into her vivid green eyes, mind clear suddenly. “Everything.”

She stares for a moment to see if there’s more before her brows raise. “Oh… Oh.” Natasha looks back as a jet lands, a few official-looking men stepping off. 

“Can we get medical over here? She needs to be seen to,” Natasha says as they approach. 

“She’ll be seen on the jet,” an older gentleman says in a grave tone. 

“Secretary Ross,” Natasha places herself between you and the man. 

“This the only injury on this side?”

“Side? This isn’t a war, Secretary.” 

“Isn’t it?” He steps around her, looking down at you. You unflinchingly meet his gaze. 

“Secretary, with all due respect, this woman needs-”

“Wilson, I suggest you shut your mouth unless you intend to tell me where Barnes and Rogers are heading.” The Secretary gives everyone a once over, “Load them up.” 

Everyone but you is locked into their seat on the jet. As you climb in altitude your head swims and you fold forward. 

“Sit back,” Clint says gently. “You want to keep your heart elevated.”

You force yourself back, head thudding painfully into the metal of the chair behind you. 

Secretary Ross enters, a med-tech behind him pushing a cart. He stands stoically, looking down at every person in the room. The tech approaches you, irrigation bottle in hand. 

“Come on,” Sam grumbles. “Can’t you at least see her in a med bay?”

“She’s lucky she’s being seen at all,” Ross says in a chilling tone. 

He watches as the tech soaks the towel, removing it from your chest, despite the ache you refuse to make a noise. You’d had enough interactions with men like this Ross character to know that you never show them an ounce of fear or weakness. 

The tech studies your wounds for a moment hands working swiftly to attach a blood pressure monitor to your wrist. He looks at the reading, brows creasing in disapproval.  

“Blood type?” He asks. 

“AB.” He takes a note before turning a more focused gaze to the gashes. 

“We’re going to have to cut the shirt off, likely fibers in the wound.” He turns to the cart and shuffles around, when he turns back there’s a needle in his hand. The blood pressure monitor on your wrist begins to beep as your heart ticks up, the increased blood flow making your chest throb. 

“What is that?” You ask, hating the way your voice trembles slightly. Flashes of countless needles being forced into your veins fill your mind. 

“Morphine.” He reaches for your arm and you pull back as far into the chair as possible. 

“No.”

“Ma’am,” he sighs out clearly annoyed. “You’re gonna need sutures-”

“I don’t need drugs. I’ll be-”

“I don’t think you understand how much this is going to-”

“I’ve had worse,” you say matter of factly. 

“Give her the damn sedative,” Ross demands. 

“She said no,” Wanda says. Ross turns an indignant gaze her way. 

The tech moves to try and administer it again but you latch your power onto the syringe in his hand, crushing it. He stares, confused and a little scared at the liquid dripping down his arm. 

“Maximoff,” Ross starts but then pauses. Slowly he turns back to look at the shattered remains, seeming to realize that Wanda’s signature red glow didn’t accompany that action. 

His cold stare lands on you. “Just get her cleaned up Aarons.” 

“Yessir.”

Ross storms off, pausing at the exit, “I will deal with all of you on the Raft.” 

Aarons pulls two small folding stools from the cart and guides you into one with surprising gentleness. With your back facing the others he cuts open your shirt. You hear him let out a puff of breath as he sees the scars there. 

You have to hand it to him, Aarons works quickly, truly trying to not cause more discomfort than necessary. His eyes search yours on occasion, especially in moments he expects you to grimace or show pain. 

He finishes bandaging you up and guides you back to the chair. “Sorry,” he says, motioning for you to place your arms in a position to be manacled. You say nothing, simply do as you’re told. 

“You’ll need a transfusion. I’ll try to get to that before we land.”

“Thanks,” you say. He nods and leaves. 

They do not get to it. Not that it matters much. You know your body will heal, whatever Hydra had filled you with would ensure that. Your heart though… 

Already the distance and uncertainty weigh heavily. Every few minutes you have to talk yourself down, silently coaching yourself that he will be ok, he must be ok. They will succeed. But if they didn’t… Well, your broken heart would be the least of the world’s concerns then. 

As soon as they land on The Raft you’re shuffled out with the rest. Until now you didn’t understand what The Raft was—a prison, a floating prison for the worst the world had to offer. When you’d agreed that some of you would have to hold back you’d assumed they’d put you all somewhere but never this. 

They march you all down a long corridor, opening into a large space where several other corridors branch off. Everyone else is led to the right while they jostle you to the left. Terror makes alarms sound in your mind but your expression stays impassive.

“Where are you taking her?!” Sam calls out. “Hey, wait!” There’s a thud, you look back to see Sam doubled over, his eyes look up and meet your own. You shake your head no as they lead you away. 

He means well, but you have a feeling he’s never been a prisoner before. You on the other hand… you were a seasoned pro—captivity almost felt like an old, unwelcome, friend. The key was to give them nothing. Not fear, not anger, not even respect. The key was to become… nothing. 

Comply. 

Survive. 

You’re left in a cold room, cuffed to a metal chair--still with nothing more covering your torso than bandages and a blood-stained sports bra--for an indiscriminate amount of time. 

You don’t move, barely flick your eyes around the space, just stare forward. Because you don’t need to move to know your surroundings. 

Sending your power out you find the small pinhole cameras embedded in the metal walls, you feel just beyond those walls other rooms. You push it a bit further, into the corridor, to get a feel for the activity happening around you, and keep your focus there so you will know when someone is entering.

Is it muscle memory that keeps you stiff, upright, expression impassive? You’re bone-tired and should be fighting sleep in this quiet space, body demanding shut down. But no. You’re alert, ready at any moment for anything.

You aren’t startled when the door behind you opens, don’t even turn to look back. It’s not until Ross sits in a chair across the metal table from you that you realize you’d been bracing your body for a blow or the crackling feeling of a shock baton. 

He doesn’t say anything, studying you with a cold appraising glare. After a time he nods to unseen eyes and images fill the wall behind him. 

At first these photos of a woman going about mundane daily tasks—waiting for a train her hair in a messy bun, head thrown back in a laugh with friends around her, standing on a street corner impossibly balancing bags of food and four drinks, sitting on a bench looking out at the water—mean nothing to you. Just still life images. 

Clarity careens into you like a freight train. It takes effort to keep your impassive mask in place as you stare. That woman… that was you. 

How did you not immediately see yourself? How could you not see Nix, a portion of his Cheshire-like grin captured on the edge of one image? How did you not recognize the bright pink of Marcus’ hair in another? How?

Suddenly they’re gone. You want to beg them to bring them back, let you see just the smallest glimpses of the people you lost, the person you were. But you don’t. You sit, like a statue, as a video begins to play. 

A woman with long thick curls hanging around her face stares down an unseen person with a look that could strip paint— That’s me, you remind yourself. The audio is a bit crackly but you can make out the sound of your own voice well enough.

“I suggest you back off, mother fucker,” this past you growls. 

The camera becomes a blur, the sounds of scuffling and fabric obscuring a mic are all that can be heard for a time until—

A loud thud and a groan ring clear, the image clears revealing you staring down at your hands and back at the man. You look horrified and confused, a bit of blood trickling from a busted lip. 

Memory cracks through you like lightning. This was only a few weeks before they took a wrecking ball to your entire life. You’d run home and Nix had been furious that you refused to go to the cops until you told him what you did, how your ability lashed out. There was no more arguing after that, he understood the necessity of this secret. 

Nix helped you get cleaned up, ordered pizza, and braided your hair while you both watched old movies into the wee hours. You could almost feel his sure fingers finding their way through your curls, weaving them together in tight plaits.

Ross’ voice pulls you back from the void of loss threatening to engulf you, “When Ms. Romanoff released Hydra’s files to the public we took special interest in cases like yours. Of course, we assumed that you’d been put down… Reaper.” 

That fucking name. The code Hydra gave you. You hate that you flinch just a bit from it. Hate the burn of bile in your throat. 

“Or do you prefer Sara Madison?” The name you’d taken at 16 when you started a new life. “Or is it Y/N Y/L/N?” The name you’d been born with. New images flash onto the wall behind him. These faces you recognize instantly. 

“I’m sure they’d all say, Reaper, is far more appropriate.” 

It takes everything to fight the nausea, to keep the tremors at bay. Don’t give him the satisfaction, you tell yourself. 

“Nineteen confirmed kills. Given your methods, I don’t doubt there are more.” He opens a folder and lays out several more faces you know. “Heart attack, brain aneurysm, stroke—nothing suspicious about natural death.” He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “It’s a masterclass, truly.”

Such a good attack dog, that Hydra bastard’s voice rings in your head. 

“All of this is enough for us to try you on everything from first-degree murder to treason. I can assure you that it will not end well for you.” He moves his hands into his lap, “But, we’d be willing to reconsider legal action if you’d simply tell us where Barnes and Rogers are.” 

You almost laugh. Instead, you just raise a brow, continuing to stare straight at him. The quick flash of anger in Ross’ eyes fills you with satisfaction. 

He takes a deep breath, his own composure falling back in place, and stands, circling behind you. A heavy hand lands on your left shoulder, fingers reaching around to the tops of the freshly stitched wounds there. Slowly but steadily he applies pressure to them, pain exploding. You grind your teeth, fighting the scream. 

“I should also inform you,” Ross growls into your ear, “that for all rights and purposes you don’t exist. A trial would be a formality.” His grip tightens suddenly and you can’t hold back the hiss of pain.

“Personally,” his other hand grabs your hair, forcing your head back to look up at him, “I would rather not waste taxpayer dollars on trying things like you and Barnes. If you push me, I’m sure I can find creative ways to extract the information we need.” 

You can’t fully place why your face fills with a smirk or why it grows into a full smile. Maybe you’re delirious with pain and exhaustion because the smile breaks out into a belly laugh. It hurts your chest but you can’t stop. Ross’ backhand cracking across your face doesn’t even stop it. Peals of laughter pour from you. 

“Lock her up,” he barks to someone behind you. 

Rough hands grab you, dragging you from the room. You’re still smirking when they unceremoniously toss you into a cell. 

Stumbling forward you barely catch yourself before crashing into the wall. You rest your forehead against the cool metal until your knees refuse to hold you any longer. Turning you lean against the wall and slide down it. 

Across from your cell you can just see the edge of Wanda’s. She’s staring into your cell intently, arms bound in a goddamn straight jacket. Anger flairs in you—she couldn’t be more than 20 for fuck’s sake. 

She gestures to her chest with her chin then nods at you. Glancing down you notice that blood has soaked through the bandages there. You give her a weak smile and a thumbs up. She rolls her eyes and a true smile lifts the corners of your mouth. 

Muffled sounds outside the cell wake you. Honestly, you hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep on the hard floor. 

It takes a moment for your eyes to focus in on what they’re seeing—Wanda fighting back against guards trying to take her somewhere. She can’t use her ability without her hands you realize. Still, she kicks and thrashes, anything to slow them. 

You stand legs wobbling a bit, and approach the glass and metal door to your cell, letting your anger rise with each step. Taking as deep a breath as you can manage you push a wave of your power out. Unfortunately, it catches Wanda’s footing too but it’s enough to get their attention. 

Startled eyes slide around the room, unsure of where to focus their anger. One of the men stand and you immediately throw him back. Another does the same and you toss him aside, truly surprised at the amount of force you’re able to muster. 

This continues on for a minute before a flurry of new guards, led by Ross, pour into the cellblock. 

“What the hell is-” You grab Ross before he can finish and slam him against the wall hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs. He stares at you, hatred dripping from him. 

“Leave her alone. She doesn’t know shit.” 

Ross clears his throat, “You ready to talk?”

You shrug, “Thought you wanted to get creative.” Ross nods at you and they open your cell, dragging you out.

“No!” Wanda yells as they push her back into her cell. 

“It’s ok,” you tell her over your shoulder. 

While you didn’t doubt that the US Government could be very imaginative you did doubt they were true masters like Hydra. And if they were…you could take it, you already had before. All you needed to do was keep Ross distracted enough that he stayed off of Wanda and the others. 

It was the least you owed them.

Tag List:

@bluegirlusa1  @l0kisbitch  @tazzi-baby  @disagreetoagree  @woodyandbuzz20-01  @mooniightbucky   @saundrasays  @breezy1415  @alyssaj23  @mywinterwolf  @wonderlandmind4  @fairislesheets  @anamcg317  @buckaroo-barnes  @jazztherebel  @peachthatdrinkslemonade  @regulusirius   @auskitty @babyimp1967 @katecolleen  @handplucked  @stevehesaidabadlanguageword  @darkdragonphoenix  @issanitydead  @thestorydetective  @buckysstar  @wintersoldierswhore  @greyeyedsmile14  @watchoutforfrostbite  @for-the-love-of-the-fandom  @jewelofwinter  @siriuslycloudy2  @hardygal69  @marvelousmeggi  @jdoenson  @gamorazenn @wildmoonflower @cutie1365 @demonlover87 @winterboobearsworld @this-kitten-is-smitten​

[ericsonclan]

An Unanticipated Kid

Summary: Louis, Aasim and Willy bring back a surprise to Ericson.

Read on AO3:

It was a peaceful day at Ericson. Prisha and Violet were tanning some rabbit pelts while Omar started to gather wood for fire in preparation for the later meal of the day. Clementine and Ruby were off in the greenhouse gathering vegetables and herbs and maintaining the planters. AJ stood on the watchtower, the binoculars in his right hand as he stared out into the forest before him. Luckily it seemed like there were very few walkers roaming outside the gates today. AJ lifted up the binoculars to his eyes to count all of the walkers.

One…. AJ moved the binoculars over to the right and spotted another walker beside a tree, running into it before turning and walking into another tree. That’s two… AJ moved his attention back to the left and spotted another walker moseying around a small patch of grass while a few birds flew off in fear. Three. That should be it. AJ placed his hands down. Watch duty was almost up for him. He needed to be sure to find Omar to let him know that it was his turn next. I hope there’s a lot of stew tonight, AJ’s stomach growled in agreement. His hand wandered up to his stomach, clutching it when suddenly out of the corner of his eye AJ noticed some odd movement.

Lifting the binoculars up to his face again, he looked straight down the center to see Aasim and Louis struggling to hold onto what looked like some sort of fuzzy, white animal. Aasim held on desperately to the rope along with Louis who seemed to be mumbling some words that AJ figured were probably encouraging ones thanks to the smile on his face. Willy ran forward, the pile of rabbits bouncing on his shoulder when he paused and drew his bow back, taking out the walker that was by the patch of grass.

“Violet, Prisha!” AJ turned around to look at the couple sitting at one of the picnic tables. “The hunting party is back! And they have some sort of animal with them!” Violet and Prisha shared a look before running towards the door by the gate where AJ had already jumped down. AJ waved for them to make their way over while Willy took out the walker that was still occupied by the tree in its way.

Willy returned the gesture before helping Aasim and Louis drag the animal inside. Violet and Prisha made room for them as Ruby and Clementine ran forward.

“What in tarnation? How in the world did you find a mountain goat?” Ruby looked on in disbelief as Aasim struggled to hold back the kicking animal.

Louis looked over at Clementine with his usual charismatic smile. “Hey Clem, I guess we have a kid now,”

Before Clementine could respond the mountain goat used its jet black horns to ram into Louis’ gut.

Louis let out a small gasp as he flew backwards, landing hard on his butt and sliding back a ways, causing a pile of dust to form in the air.

“Louis!” Clementine ran over to check on her boyfriend, waving her hand in front of her face to push away the dust. “Are you okay?” She offered a hand which he readily accepted.

“Who, me? Yep! I guess we ended up with an unruly youngster,” He flashed a smile when Ruby spoke up again.

“We need to get this goat secured before we can even think about what needs to be done,” Ruby ran forward and grabbed onto the rope to help Aasim.

“Omar, can you cover watch duty?” Clementine looked over at him.

Omar simply nodded before climbing up onto the tower.

“Ruby, need any help?”

Ruby waved a hand for a second then wrapped it around the rope to help rein in the powerful creature. “I need anyone who doesn’t have any large injuries to help out,” Ruby let out a annoyed grunt before looking back “That doesn’t exclude you though, Louis,”

Louis shook his head playfully while rubbing the spot where the goat had headbutted him. “I wouldn’t dream of it,”

“Less talking, more helping,” Aasim hissed while he spun the rope tighter on his arm. Willy and AJ ran forward to help, slowly guiding the mountain goat over to a nearby tree.

“Clem, Violet, Prisha. Can you start gathering wood and other things? We’re gonna need a pen to contain this here mountain goat.” Ruby took a deep breath while holding onto the rope.

The three girls were soon off and gathering wood here and there, trying to find what they hoped would be helpful for the animal pen. Soon the wrangling group had moved the stubborn mountain goat towards the tree. After a few shaky attempts due to the goat’s struggling, Ruby had been able to get a bowline knot securing it in place.

Ruby brushed away a strand of hair on her forehead, looking at the now contained goat with a proud smile. “Alright, we need to go help the girls with the pen,” Ruby instructed the four boys who had collapsed on the ground.

“Alright, time for round two,” Louis shakily got to his feet before helping up AJ. Aasim soon followed, helping up Willy who seemed to still have an abundance of energy left as he ran over to help Prisha with the load of supplies she was carrying.

With some instruction from Ruby and the hard work and determination of the rest of the group, the pen was slowly coming together. Bit by bit the team put together the animal pen. The sky slowly changed from a calming blue to the comforting, warm orange signalling that it was nearing dinner time. Omar had switched off with Aasim and had gone over with Willy to help prep for dinner.

When the animal pen had been completed to the best of the group’s ability, Ruby gave the signal, waving over Aasim and Willy to help out again. The white mountain goat struggled, kicking and bleating while it tried to free itself from the rope that helped pull it into the pen. It took all of the wrangling group’s energy and strength but they  successfully got the animal inside, tying the rope around a post until they could figure out the best course of action.

“Will this pen hold it?’ Prisha studied her handiwork, unsure of its durability.

“It’ll do for now,” Clementine held a hand up to her chin, “But we’ll probably have to keep improving on it.”

“So are you going to tell us why the hell you brought back a mountain goat?” Violet glared over at Louis, Aasim and Willy who all shared a look before starting to talk at the same time. Their overlapping explanations only seemed to confuse the others more. Ruby was about to try and ask them to start over one at a time when Omar spoke.

“Dinner’s ready! Get it before it gets cold!” he called out from over by the stew pot.

Everyone immediately made their way over. Violet was scary when angry, but it was nothing compared to Omar’s wrath whenever someone was super late to dinner. Soon everyone had gotten their share of food and started digging in when Clementine brought up the topic again.

“So, Louis, mind telling me why you and the other two brought back a mountain goat?”

Louis looked up at Clementine with a spoon still in his mouth. He slowly pulled out the spoon and with a rough swallow got his food down.

“Well, you see, we were hunting today and had finished up early and we wanted to check out a place to set up some more traps up north. That’s when we ran into the goat,” Louis awkwardly scratched the back of his head.

“So we wrangled it with some of the rope we had brought along,” Willy exclaimed happily. A few chunks of stew flew out of his mouth which caused Omar and Ruby to shake their heads in disapproval.

“But I’m curious why you thought to bring it back,” Prisha placed down her spoon.

“We figure it may be a good source of milk if we were lucky.” Aasim stated simply, taking another sip from his stew.

“It was really all because of something that we remember Mitch saying a few years back,” Louis mumbled into his stew, taking another big bite.

“And what was that?” Ruby leaned forward. The air around the conversation had turned more intense. It always did whenever the dead were brought up.

“He said he saw a mountain goat out past the safe zone,” Willy chirped in, his expression a mixture of joy and sadness at the memory. “But no one believed him.”

“It’s because it sounded ridiculous,” Aasim shook his head. “Marlon was really upset about him going past the safe zone.” The air took on an even heavy tone with that name.

“But…” Louis’ voice drew everyone’s attention towards him, “We found that beautiful creature,” He gestured over to the goat who was struggling against its restraints. Its patchy white fur blew in the gentle wind. It froze for a minute when it felt the group’s eyes looking at it. Its beady brown eyes looked back, staring deeply into Clementine’s as if it was looking into her soul before letting out a slow deep bleat.

Clementine looked away and back at the pair of boys. “Well, if it does produce milk, that could be a huge asset,”

“Yeah, but what do goats even eat?” Violet pushed aside her empty bowl towards the center of the table.

“I think it’s just grass,” Aasim replied. His eyes squinted in concentration as if he was trying to recall some facts he had read long ago.

“That sounds about right,” Ruby nodded in agreement.

“So are we going to keep it?” AJ leaned forward, a look of excitement in his eyes.

“I don’t know, kiddo, does everyone think it’s worth it?” Clementine looked at the group.

No one seemed opposed to the idea.

“I think it would be wise to keep it,” Prisha put down her spoon. “It could really help us out if it does produce milk.”

“Well, I’m glad you feel that way,” Louis spun around the chair he was sitting on, “Because I was hoping we could name it tonight!”

AJ and Willy shared an ecstatic look at the suggestion.

“Okay, that sounds like fun,” Clementine had a small smile on her face. “Anyone have any ideas?”

Oh, oh!” AJ bounced impatiently on his seat. “How about Shiv?”

“I like it!” Willy leaned over to look at his friend. The two boys seemed happy about the name choice even though no one else was.

“I don’t know, how about….” Clementine was hoping that a name would pop up in her mind but nothing appeared.

“Old Whitey!” Louis gave a playful smile but Prisha shook her head.

“No, we should choose something that sounds more… refined,”

Aasim nodded in agreement. “Like Sophocles.” Prisha and Aasim both seemed pleased with that name.

“Nah, it should be something cool that like Mitch would name it, like Kickass!” Willy leaned over, trying to sneak his leftovers to Rosie who had been pawing at his leg all throughout the meal. But one look from Omar made him rethink that and place the bowl back up.

“I don’t know, I think it should be something classic,” Ruby butted into the conversation, “like Billy or Wooly or-”

“Shitsticks,” Violet said with a smirk.

The group looked at her, unsure how serious her suggestion was.

“Anyway,” Clementine tried to steer the conversation back on track. “We don’t need to find a name tonight. We could always sleep on it and-” She suddenly stopped when she heard Louis excitedly gasp.

“I just got the best name,” Louis leaned his elbows onto the chair. “Honestly, I’m shocked it took me this long to think of it. But still, I guess my genius mind takes some time to-”

“Just say the damn name!” Violet snapped, crossing her arms.

Louis dramatically made a rainbow motion over his head. “Milky Way,” He flashed a proud smile at his family. “Think about it. It's a goat that may produce milk, it has white fur, and it’s just an awesome name.”

Everyone was silent at the name suggestion, from shock that it was actually a good suggestion although it was no surprise that Louis had chosen a pun name.

“I. Love. It!” Willy jumped up onto his feet with a happy grin. Garbage, who had been content with her nap on Willy’s lap, gave an annoyed hiss before running off to her small den.

“I do too!” AJ smiled over at Louis.

“It’s not a bad name, I'll give you that,” Aasim added.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Violet grumbled with a flat tone, but the small smile betrayed her, revealing her true feelings.

“Well, if everyone is for it,” Clementine looked around the group “You want to name it Milky Way?”

Everyone chattered in agreement.

“I should go check on Milky Way then after I get the dishes done,” Omar got up, grabbing his bowl. The two boys snatched up their bowls while offering to help Omar in hopes that they could also visit the mountain goat.

“Well in that case, Aasim, would you like to go talk about fixing up the pen and improving it?” Prisha glanced across the table towards him.

Aasim nodded and grabbed his bowl.

“I’ll join ya,” Ruby went around and grabbed the others’ dishes with a smile “My old man used to talk about his time back on the farm where he grew up so I might know a thing or two.”

Prisha and Aasim seemed grateful for the help and the trio went off to talk, leaving Clementine, Louis and Violet at the table.

“Well, want to visit the newest member of our family?” Louis gave an excited grin and walked over, offering Clementine a hand up which she accepted with an appreciative smile.

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” Clementine chuckled when she saw AJ and Willy dragging Omar over to Milky Way. “You coming, Vi?”

“Sure,” Violet shrugged. “Got nothing better to do,”

The three walked over, talking about this and that. Clementine felt her enthusiasm bubble up inside her. It really was exciting to have another resource to make Ericson a safe and prosperous home for everyone.

[kumeko]

Title: take a chance on me

A/N: For @princerazzie​, for the @talessecretsanta2019​! I like Zelos/Sheena a lot myself and went with a bit of an AU for them. Hope you like this!

…

…

…

Sheena stared at her physics textbook, at the carefully labeled diagrams of triangles and circles and odd-sided shapes. It was confusing, sure, but it was a comfortable confusing. She knew where she stood with physics and that was on the border of failing or passing the class.

 What was more uncertain, however, was the red-head smirking at her cheekily from across the table. There were many adjectives she could and would use to describe him—lazy, flippant, skirt-chaser. Smart was never one of them and she wasn’t sure what was worse, that he was tutoring her or that somehow, somehow, she was stupider than the guy who spent all of class flirting.

 Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe the teacher had swapped their papers by accident. She glanced at the textbook once more and sighed internally. No, she was definitely failing the class. Unfortunately, that meant Zelos was actually useful for once and she didn’t know what to make of that. He’d never shut up about it, that much she was certain. Every conversation carried forward would mark this day down. Considering that she’d known him since kindergarten and would probably, unfortunately, never stop knowing him, that was a lifetime of nose rubbing.

 She had to make new friends.

Zelos’s smirk grew wider as he caught her eye and shit, she’d been staring too long. “What’s wrong, beautiful? Can’t look away?”

 Her ears went red. It was a small miracle this was after school and no one was in the classroom right now. Or maybe that wasn’t such a good thing; it literally was just the two of them in a classroom, all alone. Sitting straight, she crossed her arms and scowled at him. “Of course not. I just…can’t believe it. How do you have the highest marks in class?”

 “Hey, I’m not just beauty, I’m brains too.” Zelos winked. He curled an arm and patted his bicep. “Maybe not brawn yet, but brawny isn’t nice to look at anyways.”

 “Ugghhhh,” she groaned. This was the nitwit she chose as her first and, for some reason, best friend. This was the man she was going to know for the rest of her life. No, not the rest of her life; she was never going to make it that far. Maybe even as soon as today, she was going to murder him. She’d been making progress with her juniors, with the air-headed pair of Colette and Lloyd. She didn’t need him anymore.

 Maybe she could learn physics just to hide his body.

 Stranger things have happened.

 “Hey, don’t groan so much.” Zelos tapped on the book to get her attention again. “It’s not my fault you’re failing.”

 “I’m not failing,” she snapped back, indignant. She crossed her arms defensively. “I’m just not passing.”

 “That’s the same thing,” he pointed out, his expression deadpan.

 He had a point. She didn’t want to admit. Sheena glared at him, before gesturing at the classroom windows. It was a surprisingly warm fall day, almost t-shirt weather, and she asked, “I thought you’d be out flirting or something on a day like this. Why’re you even here?”

 “And miss the chance for some alone time with you?” His tone was light, but his expression was serious. Sheena swallowed as he looked at her. “Never.”

 He was just flirting. It was like breathing to him. That’s all there was to it and Sheena tried to remember her skyrocketing heart that this meant nothing to him and even if it did, she didn’t care about it. She didn’t. Not in the least. “S-sure,” she managed, finally, her voice hitching slightly. “How many times have I heard that line before? You say it to everyone.”

 Zelos studied her for a moment. Did he see right through her? And what did that even mean, if he did? He broke into an easy smile and shrugged. “Caught me there.”

 Yep. That was to be expected. Sheena released the breath she didn’t know she was holding. Pushing forward the textbook, she tapped on the first problem. “Explain. The sooner we get through this, the sooner we can leave.”

 “So gung-ho.” Zelos chuckled, leaning closer to the textbook to read. His long hair brushed against her fingers and she resisted the urge to jump back. How had they done this when they were kids? She felt so much more self-conscious of him these days. He read the book, his lips mouthing the problem silently, and sat back. Cocking his head, he asked, “So…you don’t get what, exactly?”

 “Everything.” Sheena rolled her eyes. She’d thought it was obvious. “The whole thing. All that stuff about volts and watts and circuits and the funny diagrams. None of it makes sense.”

 “I thought you were paying attention in class. You didn’t even understand one thing.” His brow furrowed and he shot her a pitying look. “I knew you were an idiot, but I underestimated how much.”

 She bit back a scream. Every conversation they had left her feeling like this: mildly annoyed and frustrated. “It’s not like you’re much smarter.”

 Zelos snorted derisively. “I am.”

 “Ok, fine, you’re better in class, but you know what? Out there, in the streets? You wouldn’t last a minute,” Sheena growled, her hands curling on the desk. Her nails dug into the wood, as though she could transmit her irritation into the furniture.

 Now Zelos looked at her sadly. Reaching out, he tenderly covered her hand, his touch light. “I’m also better there too, honey.”

 She yanked her hand away, her skin burning. His touch was seared onto her skin and she could still feel his fingers brushing against her wrist. Flushing a bright red, she leaned forward and yanked on his tie, forcing him to her eye level. “Just. Teach. Me. Already.”

 Now that she was this close to him, she could see that his eyes weren’t quite as light blue as she thought. There were flecks of dark blue, a more haunting colour, and with his eyes as wide as they were now, they were impossible to miss. No, that wasn’t why, it was because she was so damn close. She hadn’t realized just how much she’d leaned forward. Their noses were almost bumping and she could feel his breath on her lips. There was a slight blush on his cheeks and she felt irrationally proud of that, of getting him to turn red instead of her for once.

 But he was close, too close, and Sheena felt a familiar flush colour her face too. Her grip on his tie loosened and she swallowed. “I…”

 His lips moved and she was aware of it, so keenly aware of it. “You…”

 She had to back away. This was a danger zone, the area she didn’t thread with him no matter how many years they knew each other. No, maybe it was precisely because of how many years they knew each other—she didn’t want to be his next conquest, his next short-term fling.

 But he was close, too close, and when he moved forward, closing the gap, all she could do was close her eyes as she forgot how to breath. As his lips crushed hers. As his hands threaded through her hair, pulling her impossibly closer. The desk pressed against her stomach and his chair scrapped as he tried to get nearer. His hair was softer than she’d thought, she realized idly as she gripped his head back. Her body seemed to have a will of its own, knowing just what to do, where to move.

 Finally, running out of breath, he let go, and she sank back into her seat. Her breathing was shallow, rapid, and she stared at him with wide eyes. At least he looked like she did; she didn’t know if she could handle being smirked at right now. She watched as he raised a hand to his lips, as he stared from his finger to her, and then back again.

 “This isn’t a dream, is it?” he asked finally.

 “A nightmare, more like,” she managed, closing her eyes. “This was a mistake.”

 “A mistake?” he repeated, and she could hear the undisguised hurt in his voice. “You didn’t want it?”

 “Of course I—” She cut herself off before she could say anything else. Cracking an eye open, she froze at the frown on his face, the way his shoulders slumped, at how small he looked at her words. Sometimes, she forgot he had a heart.

 Sometimes, she forgot that he did actually care about things. About people. About her. For all of their headbutting, he was one of her closest friends and she never knew what that said about her.

 “I didn’t mean it that way.” Sheena sighed, pinching her nose. Some honesty couldn’t hurt. Just a little, at least. “I…it was nice…and I…” Oh god, no, she was wrong, honesty could hurt. The words were like taffy in her mouth and she forced them out. “I liked it.”

 Zelos was caught entirely off-guard and his mouth fell open. “Hhh?” he managed unintelligibly.

 Sheena shook her head. “I’m not repeating that.”

 It was too late. She should have known better than to give him even the smallest indication that she maybe-kinda liked his attention. Zelos bounced back to his usual level of enthusiasm and leaned forward onto the desk. Resting his chin on his hands, he smirked at her. “You liked it.”

 “I…” She couldn’t even tell him to not put words in her mouth, those were the very words and phrasing that she’d said it. Sheena clicked her tongue, sitting back as far as she could in her chair. With a frown, she added, “But that doesn’t make it any less of a mistake.”

 “How so?” he asked and maybe he didn’t understand what mistake meant, because his smirk was only growing bigger with every second.

 “How is it not?” she growled back, trying not to gesture with her hands because when she did, she’d lean closer, and if she did, they were definitely going to kiss again.

 She just knew it.

 Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself. “You know how you are with girls. I know how you are with girls. We both know this is going nowhere. All this did was make our friendship awkward.”

 Zelos stared at her unblinking. “Hmmm,” he hummed, considering it all. She felt her cheeks redden again at the attention; the way he studied her did dangerous things to her heart. “Right. I see.” He sat up now. “But what if that isn’t what happened.”

 “What?” Sheena looked at him owlishly.

 “What if I don’t act like I do normally?” he said slowly, each word deliberate. “I told you before, I’m serious about you.”

 “That was teasing,” she managed to reply, falling back to her old defenses.

 “It wasn’t. It never was.” He held out a hand, palm up. “I’m serious about you. I always have been.”

 And for once, she had to admit the honesty of his words. There was no teasing lit, no flowery words. She can’t remember the last time she saw him like this, so earnest, so open. Never, really. No, that’s not quite right—he’d always been a little vulnerable with her, a little open. Not quite the player he always pretended to be.

 Sheena stared at his open hand, at his hopeful eyes, and swallowed. “You’re not kidding.”

 “I’m not,” he repeated.

 This was a mistake. Sheena was ninety-percent certain about that—she’d known Zelos for years. She knew his moves, what he did, how he left girls.

 She took his hand anyways.

 Zelos broke into a wide smile and she stared, transfixed. Even if it was a mistake, it was too late. They were always heading here, she’d just been too stubborn to admit it.

[therainroguefanfiction]

🔥 ℝise Ⱥbove I̾t ◈ Chapter 035 [Consequences]

📑 Table of Contents | ◂Backward

Word Count: 2,869

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〈“Will I catch my breath before I meet my end? Wish I could say I played a fair game, but I’ve been cheating death. Because the sun brings light to mistakes of yesterday.” Mosaic, “Hollow”〉

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“Honestly, what were you thinking, Winchester?” Midnight put her hand on her hip, looking at me expectantly. Principal Nezu was standing beside her, his paws behind his back and a cheerful look on his face.

I grunted, not even bothering to respond as I looked away, my arms crossed over my chest. I mean, I could tell them that I was legit contemplating shoving a chimichanga up his ass, but something tells that wouldn’t help my case here.

She sighed deeply at the lack of response, turning her gaze to the small rat beside her. “What should we do with her?”

“Well, she did attack another student outside of the event,” Nezu said cheerfully as he turned his beady eyes to me. “Do you deny this accusation?”

“No. Would it help if I said he deserved it?”

“It won’t help at all!” He smiled, before looking back up at Midnight. I bet he gets a lot of neckaches looking up at everyone. “Winchester should certainly be punished for her misconduct. However, I feel as though removing her entirely from the sports festival is a bit over the top. She worked quite hard to get as far as she did, after all. Do you agree, Midnight?”

She nodded. “In that case, you will forfeit your next match and accept fourth place. You should be thankful that you aren’t being removed from the sports festival entirely!”

I held back a groan. Man, Katsuki’s gonna be so~ fucking pissed.

“You’re also going to apologize to Monoma,” she continued. “Is that clear?”

“Yeah, whateva,” I muttered.

“You can be such a pain, Jen,” she sighed, running a hand through her hair. “We better get the next match started before they start to riot again. Go back to the seating area and stay out of trouble!”

“It’s not my fault trouble is attracted to me, Midnight. I mean, look at me, I’m sexy as fuck!”

She deadpanned.

“What, you don’t agree?”

“Go, Jen.”

“Che,” I did as she ordered, heading straight for 1-A’s seating area. From the direction I was walking, I would have to pass by class B before reaching my own. I hesitated for a moment, having an internal debate with myself before finally taking the steps down. Monoma was sitting in the first row. Half of class B glared at me, while the other half just gave me a confused look. I stopped in front of the blonde. Recovery Girl had clearly fixed his nose, but there was a white strip of bandage over the bridge.

I took a deep breath. This kinda hurts my fucking pride, but… fuck it. “I’m sorry for punching you. No matter what you said to me, I should’ve had more control over myself. Sorry, Monoma.”

His eyes widened, cheeks dusting with color as his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Kendo, sitting behind him, smacked the back of his head and he cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. “Y-Yeah… me too.”

Ryuu smiled proudly at me, his fingers brushing mine as I passed. It was his way of saying that there were no hard feelings between us, and I really appreciated the sentiment.

I returned to my class, stifling a yawn. The class noticed me and their chatter died down. I tried to ignore all the eyes on me as I sat between Bakugo and Sparky.

“What happened?” Sparky asked, softly.

I shrugged, sharing a look with Bakugo. It was obvious that the two boys had told the others about what they saw. “I had to apologize to ’em.”

“That’s it?” He breathed out, giving me a grin. “We were worried!”

“You better not be lying,” Bakugo’s eyes narrowed at me and I chuckled, ruffling his ash blonde hair.

“No lie, bro.”

“It’s the second match of the third round! These two heroes in training have both been front runners in the sports festival! It’s Midoriya!! Versus! Todoroki!! But which of these rivals will advance to the next round?! BEGIN!”

Before Mic’s voice could even fade, both boys sprung into action. Todoroki launched an ice barrage at Zuku, who used a small smash with his finger to break it apart before it could reach him, sending a strong gust of wind across the stadium. The only thing that kept Todoroki in bounds was the chunk of ice he created behind him.

“Wo~w! Midoriya managed to break Todoroki’s insane opening move!”

They did this dance again. And again.

“He countered it again!”

My eyes narrowed as I watched them. The battle’s only just begun and he’s already broken three of his fingers on his right hand. For fuck’s sake, kid. Ain’t there another way to use that insane power of yours? Like I get it, it’s the superior quirk, but still…

“Oh crap!” Kirishima came running up. “I’m missing it!”

“Hey, nice job making it to the third round, Kirishima,” Sparky commented.

“Thanks, man! Looks like I take down Bakugo next!”

“I’ll kill you.”

“Heh, yeah, sure. In your dreams.” Kiri grinned brightly, hands on his hips. “No, but seriously. It’s crazy how both you and Todoroki have moves that blast the whole stadium. Must be pretty nice!”

My eyes narrowed at him. There’s that lack of self-confidence again…

“Plus, you don’t have to pause between attacks,” Sero added with a jealous look in his eyes.

“It’s not as easy as you think, ya morons,” Bakugo responded. “If you overuse your muscles, you risk tearing them apart. If you sprint too much, you run out of breath.” He paused, looking down at his hand. “Quirks are physical abilities, too. They can get worn out, you can’t just use them non-stop.”

“It makes sense when you put it that way,” Kiri admitted. “I wonder if that’s how Midoriya thinks he’s gonna beat Todoroki.”

“Todoroki withstood Midoriya’s power and is now rushing his classmate!”

Midoriya tried to avoid the ice, but it grabbed a hold of his foot and his fist clenched, power rising drastically. I shifted in my seat, a drop of sweat rolling down my cheek. Bakugo sent me a look but said nothing, his eyes snapping back to the match. Zuku broke his arm defending against the ice. Fuck, kid, do you even have a plan?

“Woah! Todoroki continues his overwhelming attacks! Could this be his finishing move?!”

Ice shot toward Zuku at an alarming speed and he released another smash to counter it. Todoroki was barely able to stop himself from being thrown out of bounds that time.

“You’re trembling… Todoroki,” Zuku’s voice reached out to us. “It’s easy to forget that quirks are physical abilities and that means… there’s a limit to the cold your body can take, right?! I get it. Usually, you’d make up for the drop in temperature by using the heat from your left side, but you refuse to do that now. Listen… we’re all giving it our all… to try and win… to make our dreams a reality… to become number one! You think you can win with half your strength?! Look at me, Todoroki! You haven’t managed to put a single scratch on me yet! So come at me with all you’ve got!!”

What the fuck is he thinking? While it’s true that Todoroki’s ice hasn’t hurt him, he’s already broken four fingers on his right hand and his left arm. He’s quickly running out of options. Is he trying to bluff? No, that’s not it. My brow furrowed. Wait a minute… I shot out of my seat, eyes widening. “Don’t fucking tell me…”

“What’s wrong, Winchester?” Kirishima leaned forward, his hand on my back and voice full of concern.

Izuku, you… you’re trying to save him, aren’t you? You’re risking the finals, your body, everything to pull him out from the darkness he’s lost within. I can’t believe this.

“Midoriya… what are you trying to do here?” Todoroki demanded, his voice growing angry. “You want my fire?! What, did my monster of a dad bribe you or something?!” He rushed at Zuku. “Now I’m mad!!”

Zuku’s slammed his fist into Todoroki’s stomach.

“A solid punch! That’s the kind of action that I like to see!”

You’re literally tearing your body apart, Izuku! Is it worth it? My hands clenched tightly, nails digging into my palms. There’s no way in hell Gran can heal all of those injuries at once, but you know that already don’t you? You don’t care…

Izuku used his cheek to pull back his thumb, releasing another smash.

“Why are you putting yourself through this?” Todoroki demanded.

“I wanna live up to people’s expectations! I wanna be able to smile… while doing something good for them! I wanna be a pro! Whatever it takes to be a hero!” Izuku cried, headbutting Todoroki in the chest. “That’s why I’ll give it my all… just like… you should be! There’s no way I can know what you’ve gone through, or why you’re even here. Your life has been so much different then mine, but right now… stop screwing around! If you want to reject your father, fine, but you don’t have the right to be number one if you’re not going to use your full power!”

I stepped forward, my hands clutching the railing. I can feel… so much raw emotion coming from those two boys. Sadness, pain, frustration. I swallowed hard, my heart clenching within my chest.

“Winchester, are you okay? You’re shaking…”

No… no, I’m not okay… because neither of them are.

“Shut. Up.” Ice was spreading rapidly across his right side.

“That’s why I’m going to win this!! I’ll surpass you!” Izuku punched him in the stomach again, sending him flying back into the air.

Todoroki was silent for a moment, clearly lost in thought before shaking his head. “I will reject you… I refuse to use my left side…”

“It’s yours!!” Izuku cried. “Your quirk, not his!!”

Todoroki’s power shot through the rood as flames erupted from his left side, blazing like an untamed wildfire, fueled by pure, raw emotion.

My hands clenched tighter around the metal. Those flames… they’re so goddamn beautiful, so powerful. I… I want to fight him. I want to feel those flames for myself, I want to see how my flames stack up against his. Can my body withstand them? Goddamn it!

Arms wrapped protectively around my waist, but their words were muffled, distant. My mind could only focus on the sheer amount of power and emotion that was crushing the air.

“Yes, Shoto!! Have you finally accepted your purpose?!” Endeavor stalked down the stairs, a smug look on his face as he approached the railing. “That’s it, very good! This the dawn of a new era for us! With my blood in your veins, you’ll surpass me! You will live up to the reason I created you!!”

My eyes snapped to him, glowing red as my blood boiled within my veins. I’m already in trouble with the staff, I should fucking punching that bastard in the balls so he can’t have any more fucking kids. I should punch him in his smug fucking face, too. Maybe it’ll make him attractive if I rearrange those ugly ass features of his!

“Endeavor suddenly shouts words of… en… couragement? What a doting father…”

My eyes snapped back to the arena as a wave of power shot through the air. Fucking hell, that power is… incredible. Todoroki covered the arena with ice, which Izuku dodged, flying toward him. In an instant, Todoroki switched to his flames, melting the ice he had created. Five thick cement slabs shot up from the ground between them, lessening the impact of each of their attacks, but the raw power from both sides shattered the cement easily, exploding them into bits. A fierce wind pushed against the stands. I braced myself, feeling the arms around me tighten and several voices crying out in surprise.

The intense pressure slowly started to fade and I felt like I could breathe again.

“What happened just now? What the heck is up with your students?” Mic cried.

“The air around the ring had been thoroughly cooled down and then rapidly expanded when heated up.”

“Wait, that’s what caused the explosion?! How hot did that fire get?! Jeez, I can’t see a thing! Is the match still going on or what, huh?”

The smoke finally started to clear. Zuku’s body was flush against the wall, smoking. His body shifted before falling to the ground, unconscious.

“There…” Midnight’s voice was shaking. “Midoriya is… out of bounds! Todoroki wins! He advances to the fourth round!”

I took a shaky breath. “Let go of me.” I shoved the person away, seeing a flash of red as I took off toward the nurse’s office, ignoring the calls of my name.

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“The bones in your right arm were shattered. I’m afraid it’ll never be the same as it was before.” Gran explained sadly as she stood beside the best. Izuku was covered in bandages, his arms wrapped thicker than Aizawa’s. “I need to remove the bone fragment or they’ll get stuck in your joints. I’ll heal you afterward.” She sighed deeply before turning to Toshi, who was standing beside me. “You lit a fire under this child and pushed him too hard. Look at what he’s done to make you proud. I don’t like it one bit.”

I scratched my cheek. “Come on, Gran, that’s not fair… I mean, he did push him, that’s true, but… Toshi ain’t completely to blame. I know Zuku wanted to make him proud and help Todoroki, but he should have had the sense to stop before it got too far.”

Toshi rested his hand on my shoulder.

Gran shook her head in disappointment. “You’re going too far, you hear? You and the boy. Don’t praise him for what he’s done today.”

“Midoriya!” The door slammed open, nearly making Toshi jump out of his skin as Iida, Ochaco, Tsu, and Mineta appeared in the doorway, all looking worried.

“You scared the crap out of me,” Toshi muttered, holding his hand over his heart.

“Getting jumpy in your old age?” I snickered, raising a brow. He shot me a look, pinching my hand.

“Are you okay?” Ochaco asked before she noticed Toshi. “Oh, it’s nice to meet you, sir.”

“Oh, uh, yeah.”

Real smooth, Tosh. Real smooth.

“He’s in no state for visitors,” Gran said firmly.

“Hey, guys…” Zuku said with a soft, low voice. “Shouldn’t you be watching the matches?”

“The stage was far too damaged,” Iida explained. “They’re taking a quick break to repair it now.”

“That match was the scariest thing I’ve ever seen in my life, Midoriya.” Mineta’s small body shook as he spoke. “What pro’s gonna want a sidekick that hurts himself?”

My eyes snapped to him and I was about to punch him in the head when Tsu slapped him with her tongue. “You’re just rubbing salt in his wounds. Probably not a good time.”

I sent her a smile, which she returned.

“Hey, I was just speaking the truth.”

“You’re much too noisy!” Gran scolded, ushering them toward the door. “I know you’re worried, but I’ve got to focus on surgery now.”

“Surgery?!” They chorused in shock.

“Go on, get out of here!” She kept pushing.

“But -”

“Surgery is a big deal, isn’t it?”

“Will his wounds be healed?”

“Don’t worry, just leave me to it.” She assured them.

“Ribbit…”

That… was the saddest fucking ribbit I’ve ever heard in my entire fucking life. I fought the urge to rush over and pull Tsu into a bone-crushing hug.

“With all due respect, ma’am, shouldn’t Winchester be forced to leave, as well?”

My eyes narrowed at Iida. Got his ass beat and he still doesn’t know when to fucking call it quits. Annoying fuck.

“I need to check on her injuries from earlier, now go on.” She finally got them out the door, closing it behind them.

“I’m sorry…” Zuku spoke up, his voice soft and defeated. I rested my hand on his uninjured leg, rubbing gentle circles on his outer thigh to help calm him. “I couldn’t do what you asked of me. If I had shut up… not said anything… I might’ve been able to beat him… but I…”

“You got Todoroki to realize something very important about himself,” Toshi responded.

“I guess so. In his first match, he looked so sad. I was trying to figure out why, when I should’ve been focused. I made a bigger mistake, though. Whenever we were fighting, I was just so… so frustrated. I couldn’t see the bigger picture or what it would take to win. I’m sorry…”

“It’s true that the match didn’t go how we wanted it to, and realizing where you went wrong won’t change that… but, listen. Meddling where you don’t technically have to is the essence of being a hero.”

I squeezed his thigh, giving him a smile when his eyes met mine. “Toshi’s right, you know. Helping Todoroki was more important to you than winning the match. If you ask me, you’re already a damn good hero.”

He made a strangled noise, trying to hold back tears as his hair fell over his eyes.

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[bountybossier]

Don’t Be F*ckin’ Rude | Julie & Nic

This.

With: @purelikeviolence

“Get the fuck out of here.”

Julie didn’t enjoy being manhandled by the bouncer and might have fought back but whatever, fuck him. She’ll find another bar to bother. “Don’t fucking touch me,” she broke out of his grip as they exited the bar. She glanced over the other guy who got thrown out as well. “This is all your fucking fault.” She grumbled, blaming him for getting kicked out. They both lost their temper and thought fighting in bars was a good idea. Julie didn’t particularly enjoy fighting but the asshole got some good punches in. She hated that. Much rather enjoyed someone else doing the punches for her. Arms crossed against her chest, she started walking just behind him, not wanting to walk alongside him but they were going the same way.

How many fucking times was Nicodemus going to have his drinking time interrupted? Apparently, it was just going to push itself up into the hundreds whether he bitched about it or not. Since when did bar fights not get sorted out inside and they just cracked open a cold one? They didn’t do that in White Crest and he added that to his white board of his reasons that the town blew ten ways to Sunday. His knuckles smarted and he flexed his fingers. And now he was getting blamed. “Oh, is it? Who was the one that threw the bottle?” He was annoyed, but it was also a little funny. “This ain’t the only bar, you’ll find another one.” He heard her walking behind him and paid little mind to it, until heavier footfalls followed and approached. Quick. “Hey asshole!” A voice not hers called out. The hunter turned on his heel and squinted at a pack of frat kids. He grunted. “Which one? There’s two here.”

Julie gave a smug smile, recalling how the events transpired and proud of what went down. It’s not her fault some people just can’t handle their alcohol and say rude things in return. Just like how it isn’t her fault if she retaliates because of said rudeness. As she heard people heading toward them she turned, wondering what the fuck they wanted. “Fuck off, alright?” Julie waved them off, not needing them to bother her because they definitely we’re talking about her right.

“Both you and your friend.”

“He’s not my friend.” Julie said but still didn’t know if they were talking about this dude or her. Didn’t matter though. The way they started to run toward both of them said plenty. Julie slid back her foot, took her stance… and waited.

Nicodemus rolled his eyes at her cheeky smile. Deep, deep, down, he wished he had been the one to think of throwing a bottle. At least they shared the same sentiment in regards to the Frat Pack ahead of them. God, he really wasn’t in the mood to beat up children. “Yeah, what she said, fuck off. Ain’t gonna ask you a second time.” The lead bro scoffed with his entire body, the wax bits of his hair quivering. “You bumped into my bro, brah,” the younger man said. “When you and that chick decided people needed to catch hands.” Nic’s brows shut up and he glanced at the woman next to him. “Huh, he just called you that chick.”

The hunter was glad that they stopped talking and went for the direct approach. He was tired of talking anyway and he was still pissed from not finishing his drink. The first haymaker he threw out felt like coming home after a long day and he grinned.

The guys were easy to maneuver around, they were slow as fuck so just a timed hit and Julie struck at his stomach with her leg and pulled down on him by his head. Gravity did the rest, toppling his drunk ass over. She grimaced at the sight of her new bar friend just straight up punching one of the frat guys. Just all brawn, no technique, typical. Having been preoccupied judging her companion’s fighting style, one of the guys thought it would be cool to just grab her and pick her up. Really? Asshole. Swinging her leg up, she managed to bring it down on his knee. As he winced in pain he brought her low enough for her to get to her feet and once again use his own weight and lack of balance against him. She leaned over just a bit, the frat guy’s weight allowing both of them to roll with more strength but her roll was softened by his body while his back met the hard asphalt. It really wasn’t fair. These guys didn’t know fuck all about fighting but it was an advantage she’d abuse.

Whatever Julie did in her life, she had a hell of a lot more intensive training than Nicodemus did. He had his bar and prison yard fights, sure, but watching her was something else. He'd need to pick that up somewhere. Somewhere he wasn't in the middle of pressing his forearm against a man's throat and looking him in the eyes. This wasn't that kind of fight and the frat kid wasn't that kind of monster. He was just a drunk fuck that couldn't let something go. Instead, Nic headbutted him and shoved him back. The younger man crumpled at the impact and went down hard. Copper burst along the inside of his mouth and colored his teeth red as a fist caught his lip. It wasn't much to him, but the intent behind it was enough. Alright, he could work with that. The new threat turned from him long enough that the hunter hooked his arms under his and caught him there, fingers entwined behind the frat kid's neck. He looked up at Julie, spat the blood out of his mouth, and called out. "Y'mind?"

“What,” Julie played dumb, “need help fighting your battles?” She asked as she walked closer. Without a second thought, her hand shot out, smacking the side of the frat guy’s head and he was out like a light. She looked around and the rest of them were still recovering but backing away. It seemed they had taken care of them and they weren’t drunk enough to still keep fighting. “Let’s get out of here before one of them calls the cops and ruins the rest of our night.” She told the other guy, the two of them now joined together by this fight. Maybe they could find another bar and she’d buy him a drink or two. Nothing more than that. “Come on, I think there’s a bar up ahead.” She picked up her step, wanting to create distance between that mess. “So, what’d you say your name was?” She figured they had earned each other’s names now.

Nicodemus’s eyes rolled back so hard he saw his previous life, but even then, he grinned when he heard the smack and the guy in his arms became dead weight. Without much, he tossed the guy into the nearest trash bag. Last thing he needed was for him to crack his head on the concrete and die or something inconvenient like that. The hunter rolled his wrists as the others groaned and pulled themselves away from the pair. “You can say that shit again. Last thing I want is some fuckin’ boy scouts showin’ up.” Not too bad for a back alley bar room brawl, he thought. And they still weren’t done for the night. He glanced at her with a sly grin and shook his head. “Yeah? Round two?” He laughed and spat the blood out from his mouth before he picked up in pace to meet her stride. Already, it was starting to slowly mend itself and they’d be off to another bar like nothing even happened. “Nic works fine. You?”

Julie watched as he spit blood and grimaced. “Who the hell taught you to fight that you managed to get bitch slapped so hard by a frat guy that he made you bleed? Embarrassing.” Julie would have sooner died than to get herself knocked around by some human. She’d wrestled with many over the years and it’s been a while since any human has gotten the best of her in a fight. Grabbed her, yanked her but she always ended up turning it around. “I’m Julie,” she introduced herself, still keeping her eyes on this Nic guy. He talked funny. Not an accent she’s heard before. “Where the fuck are you from?” Her voice had no malice in it despite the swear, it was just how she talked to people. Most people (especially online) didn’t really get that.  Was his accent southern? It sounded southern. American accents were difficult for her - she didn’t have the most experience with them as she did with others.

“Oh fuck off, Iip’s still healin’ up from the fuckin’ bull fight I had yesterday,” Nicodemus rebutted. The werewolf had headbutted him so hard it knocked the headache out of him and jostled something loose, let alone split his lip something ugly. Hell, that was half the reason he had been at the bar they were at earlier. “A big fuck named Samson and I’m pretty sure he’s dead in a hole somewhere, so I think I’m doin’ alright.” Julie, as she introduced herself, was a breath of foul-mouthed fresh air in White Crest and Nic grinned. “Hell of a hand you got there, Julie. Who taught you that shit?” He huffed at her question. “The swampy ass of Louisiana. Not from here either, huh?” Lo and behold there absolutely was another bar down the way and he went in first, not bothering to hold the door for Julie. She could knock a shithead out, she could get her own door.

A bull fight? Where the fuck does that take place in town? Julie kinda wanted to check that out. “You fight a lot of bulls?” She asked, curious. Considering the way he fought, she didn’t take too much pride in his compliment. It was clear no one taught him anything like she knew. He just swung and Julie supposed, it worked for him. He was stronger, heavier while Julie was lighter and (unfortunately) weaker in terms of strength. Every move mattered for her, each blow needed to land. “Dad taught me,” the mention of him made her sick. “Until I started kicking his ass and I taught myself.” Now that Julie got the fight out of her she was sure there would be no fights at this new one. At least not until she had a drink. She followed Nic, sitting alongside. “So you gonna buy me a drink for saving your ass back there?” It wouldn’t hurt to ask right? “I’m from Singapore, actually. So, I’m new to the states here.”

“Somethin’ like that, yeah. Just wait ‘till rodeo.” Bulls seemed like a better explanation than giant fucking bats, demon moose critters, or fucking werewolves. Nicodemus wasn’t fighting any of that shit at the moment. He was fighting a raging headache and had just fought the bro committee, with her help no less. Now he just needed a drink to play nurse and he’d feel better. Even with his jangly nerves and senses, they were still beating strong. Something was near, he just couldn’t tell what. “Wish I coulda kicked my dad’s ass, but the fuckin’ coward upped and died before I could.” That was the case as far as he knew. The hunter got the attention of the bartender with a half-assed wave. “Whiskey on the rocks. Whatever she wants is on me. The first one at least,” he said as he gave her a dry smirk. “Saving my ass. Right. But Singapore?” He couldn’t help his curious expression. “Long way from home then. Personal or business?”

The fucks rodeo? The question lingered on her mind but she chose not to ask - honestly she didn’t care to know about this weirdo and his bull riding. “So kick his dead body’s ass,” Julie suggested with a shrug of her shoulders. At least his dad was in the ground. Julie could only guess what the fuck hers was up to. She hoped he was dead. Ugh, those were enough thoughts about her father for like the whole year. “I’ll just get whatever dark beer you guys have on tap.” She had already drank plenty at the other bar. She didn’t need to get shitfaced or start another fight. “I’m from Singapore. Didn’t say I came from there. I’m visiting someone.” It was all she was willing to give.

The hunter rasped out a loud laugh. Well shit, now why hadn’t he thought of that? Hell below, Nicodemus actually liked talking to Julie. It was a rare fucking occurence for him to enjoy talking to anyone. She was no bullshit. Take none and give little. A sentiment he appreciated. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll do that when I find it.” He didn’t want to talk about deadbeat, distant. It didn’t sour his mood, really, but it also did fuck all to improve it. Not like whiskey did, which he immediately took hold of and started drinking. “Alright, fair enough. The poor fuck willingly put themselves here? Goddamn.” The hunter shook his head and tapped his fingers against the bartop. The irony of his statement wasn’t lost on him. “Guess we’re all just poor fucks then, huh? Some of us maybe.”

Once she was poured her drink Julie grabbed it and chugged almost half of it. It wasn’t that bad but fighting made her thirsty so she needed it. “Speak for yourself, you poor fuck,” Julie scoffed before looking at him. “What are you doing here then?” Where was he from again? Fuck, she couldn’t even remember. Even if she did, she wouldn’t have known its distance from where they were. America was a puzzle for her. Not one she ever bothered to solve. “I take it you came willingly?” Who the fuck would do that? “You enjoying the mime and moose shit?” Probably was one of those. Then again he didn’t really strike her as a tourist. He didn’t seem that excited to be in the town like some of the tourists she’s interacted with.

“Ain’t gonna argue that. What’s that make you then, a charitable asshole for sittin’ with a poor fuck like me?” Nicodemus laughed, the fight from just a few moments ago leaving him in a pleasant mood. He didn’t even need the whiskey for that. “Here for work,” he said plain enough. “Bounty hunting. Don’t got one of those, do you? We both might after that...” If she did, he didn’t care. He only went after the ones he wanted to and after everything, he figured he was as good as done for the day. “I go where the work is, so yeah, willingly enough. I don’t plan on fuckin’ about here long,” he said and even as he said it, he was unsure. Typically, he stayed maybe a couple weeks. It was going on a month or more now. “You findin’ work here or what?” He took another drink. “Nah, the mimes don’t do shit for me and I’m just waiting for one of the moose to gore the shit out of somebody. It’d spice things up.” He turned slightly in his chair to look at Julie. “You know they got two fuckin’ mime places?”

“Hey, if the shoe fits.” Julie said with a shrug as she reached for her drink once more. She was just shitting him though, the last thing she’d call herself was charitable. Giving a smirk, she shook her head as she kept her eyes on her drink. “Not in this name,” she teased. “Not yet.” Julie has thankfully never had a bounty on her - ever. Her name was never given. Maybe people looked for her but she’s never found anyone doing so, so she must either be lucky or they must have been horrible at their jobs. Unlike her. “I doubt anyone’s gonna put a bounty on us for kicking some frat boys’ asses. Probably a typical Friday night for them.” The most that would happen would be sometime down the line they run into them again and they have to kick their ass one more time. “Yeah I don’t plan on sticking around here too long either.” However she was already here longer than she would have been usually but this one was particularly difficult. She snorted at the mention of the mime places. “Yeah, I think they have a bar. I sure as hell am not going over there for a drink. What the fuck is it with having to mime your orders? That’s so - I don’t know how those things stay open.”

“Not this name, huh?” Nicodemus repeated with a huff. He tapped his fingers against the bartop. Usually he gave Asher as a name to anyone that asked, typically clients and the ones he couldn’t be bothered to give a fuck about. But in White Crest, he had given more people his real name in two months than he had his entire lifetime. The thought was fucking weird and his nose scrunched at it. “Well, I’ll be sure to let my eyes just skip on over it if I see it.” He said with a tip of his glass, eyes slightly closed as he tipped his drink back to finish it. “Yeah, probably not. They might start callin’ us heroes.” Ah shit. What if those guys had been affiliated with Walker? Oh well. It was fine. If it ever came up at the Silver Bullet, it wouldn’t be hard to explain to a fellow hunter that they struck first and the pair of them had finished it. “Guess we’ll see which one of us gets the fuck out of here first.” He ordered himself another drink, scanned across the bar to look at every face that sat there the same as they did. How many people were just passing through in White Crest? Never in any other town had he met so many...interesting individuals. Maybe the town was cursed to burden people with connection. “How do you think one of those mime fuckers fights?” The question was serious, his brow furrowed. “Think they react the same to gettin’ punched in the teeth?”

He’d skip over her name just because she backed him in a bar brawl? Damn, Julie could only imagine what he’d do for someone who was nice to him. And he was a bounty hunter? She was sure all she had to do was give him some puppy eyes and he’d forget all about her bounty. She wasn’t about to call him a shitty bounty hunter though. “The mimes?” Julie wasn’t even thinking about that and had to take a moment and another sip of her drink. “The same as anyone else?” How the fuck else would they act? They were just performers after all weren’t they? “That’d probably make them break character…I don’t fucking know. Why? You wanna go test it out?” Not that Julie was against going up to someone and straight decking them in the face but she liked to have a reason - ah fuck that, she’d punch just about anyone for no apparent reason.

“Fuck yeah I wanna test it out.” Nicodemus said, face screwed up as if he was surprised that she might not want to. He shook his head and tossed back his whiskey. “When’s the next time we’ll get the opportunity to fight a goddamn mime horde?” The hunter flashed Julie a grin and bought them another round. He had plenty of money to spare and if they were going to spend the rest of their night shooting the shit over fighting stuff, then they would need more drinks. And they did just that until it was closing time.

[inquartata30]

Ancient AU: Thessian Edition

For a prompt from @thewritemoment from this summer (because if I posted it before, my search skills are terrible and/or tumblr ate it and I need to reference it later):

Time swap AU! Write a short drabble (no more than 300 words) in which your OC or favorite character gets sent to a time opposite their own. (Historical AU if your fandom is modern; modern if your fandom is historical or fantasy).

This overshot 300 words by a good 400 words but that’s my MO at this point.

Musa and Jinan are OCs of @theivorytowercrumbles

Athalassos (the name of the ancient au fic if I ever expand it beyond this)

Armalian Peninsula, Ancient Thessia.

“Etalis are a lot bigger when they’re standing on the ground. Right in your face, specifically,” said Thaia, the wet nose of the fully grown etalis a handspan away from her own nose. If the giant animal hadn’t been the friendly sort, the fact that she had to look up to look her in the eye would’ve been unnerving.

“You change your mind, Kallistrate?” asked Musa, the second in command of T’Soni settlement’s huntresses, who happened to be sitting on the top rail of the wooden fence.

“No.”

The etalis responded by gently bumping her nose against Thaia’s forehead.

Thaia bumped her gently back.

Then the etalis licked her cheek.

“Gross.”

“It just means she likes you,” said Musa.

“I don’t even know her name.”

“That’s stopped you before? I mean, it’s never stopped me before.”

“Well, no, but it isn’t like we were eyeing each other across the campfire all night, either. And this isn’t anywhere near the same with the etalis being an etalis and not asari and therefore not anything I’d look at that way.”

“Her name’s Pebbles,” said Musa. “One of Jinan’s kids named her, so if you make fun of the name, Jinan will do something scary to you.”

Along with being the best archer in the settlement, Jinan happened to be the huntress in charge of the village’s pack of etalis, and wasn’t someone to mess with. Also, only a colossal jerk would make fun of any kids. Thaia was a lot of things, but she wasn’t a colossal jerk and kids were fun, besides.

“Got it.” Thaia reached up and scratched Pebbles’s muzzle. After Pebbles headbutted her another time, Thaia showed her the leather ball Jinan had given to her. “Jinan told me you like to play catch.”

And Jinan might’ve understated it because Pebbles responded by jumping backward and spinning around in blurred circle, wind from the etalis’s wings buffeting the tall grass growing at the base the fence. Thaia raised the ball higher and Pebbles spun around so fast that Thaia twice had to duck to dodge both of its meter-long tails.

As Thaia cocked her arm back to let the ball fly, she caught sight of someone she hadn’t met before approaching from the opposite side of the fenced area. The new person waved in the direction of the field beyond the paddock, where the other etalis were, and then she broke into a smile that stole the very breath from Thaia’s body.

Thaia wanted to see that smile every day for the rest of her life.

She also completely forgot about the eager etalis who didn’t understand that the smile had lit up the new person’s whole face and—

Despite leaving her skin striped and burning where it’d slapped against her bare forearm, the first tail wasn’t what got Thaia. It was the second, slightly longer tail with beads braided into the tuft of hair at the end that did her in, whipping right across her forehead and sending her straight to the ground.

The ball rolled out of her hand and into the middle of the paddock, where Pebbles happily scooped it up with her mouth.

“Ow, fuck,” Thaia said as she clutched at her head, rolling on her back in the beaten-down grass.

A dropped ball thumped on the dirt, then tremors shuddered through the ground. Tensing her body to roll back to her feet in case of danger, Thaia cracked an eye open just in time to see the blurry shape of Pebbles running toward her. 

Like she was coming back to finish the job.

One hand still clutching at her forehead, Thaia leapt to her feet only for a huge mouth to—gently?—grab her shoulder and—even more gently?—push her back onto the grass.

Thaia was pretty sure the etalis was Pebbles, despite her vision being slow to clear. She blinked a few times and her sight went back to normal just in time to see Pebbles’s face directly in front of hers, studying her intently.

“What the fuck, Pebbles?“ Thaia moved her hand away from her forehead and discovered it was slick with violet blood. Fuck.

“Etalis don’t like it when their riders are hurt,” said Musa, far too gleefully. “Even dumbass riders who haven’t ridden yet and got hit by both fucking tails because they were distracted.”

“Well,” Thaia said to Pebbles, “that’s kind of you.”

Pebbles licked her forehead.

“Pebbles, no!” came a sharp voice from behind Thaia. “You’ll only dirty the wound more.”

[punchyline]

Catfight || Discord

Summary: Punchline crashes the party and a fight ensues. Trigger Warnings: Abuse mentions, violence, death, blood, Joker Written By: @harleenqueenzel, @antidyingantihero, @ofpowerfulmortal, @poisoned-kisses

Harley: Harley pressed a kiss to her adopted son's cheek, and scratched Bruce behind the ear. She felt eyes on her, turning her head to see a woman wearing clown makeup. Oh great. "Hey, Mike..." she said, looking away. "Is that clown still watching me?" she asked, feeling anxious.

Mike: Mike's smile turned genuine. Harley always made him feel better. He glanced behind her, looking at the clown. "Kind of. Who is she." he said as he looked back at the bar. "You want me to get her out of here?"

Harley: Harley let out a soft sigh. "I have no idea. But she looks like she works fer my ex," she commented, turning to look at the woman again. Her presence was making her uncomfortable. And if Pam saw her, she'd probably end up strangling her. "I'm not sure. Do I give her a chance first, or d'ya think I should go straight ta the throwin' her out?"

Punchline: "William." She mused, scrunching up her nose and giving him a cheeky smile. "I like that. I think that's what I'll call you." She decided and he wasn't about to change her mind. She liked the sound of it, the way it shaped on her tongue. She had another sip of her drink. She may be playing with him, but she was loyal to the Clown Prince of Gotham.

Mike straightened up. "Joker? If you didn't invite her get her the hell out of here. I  can do it if you want Ma'" he answered. No one was going to make her uncomfortable.

Harley: Harley bit down on her lower lip, nodding as she ran her fingers through Bruce's fur. She didn't want Mike to get hurt -- not that he could, really. "Could ya go an' ask her what her business here is or somethin' like that? If she starts bein' aggressive, I'll come over an' help. I've got a gun concealed beneath this dress," she shrugged.

Mike: "Of course." he said standing up and kissing Harley's head. He went over to the woman, not carrying about interrupting her conversation. "What's your business here?"  he asked serious. "Because I know you weren't invited."

Billy: Billy crinkled his nose, he was not used to having someone calling him by William. He felt as if he was in trouble when people did it and remind him too much about his mom, which hurt him. Even if he was extremely young when she left him at the park, he still remembered that she called him by his full name all the time, "I don't have a choice, do I?"

Punchline: "It's cute. You don't like it?" She asked Billy. She glanced Harley's way just then, catching the kiss. Half of Gotham hated her... but the other half. It praised her for leaving him. Idolized her for it. "I heard it was open for all." Punchline replied, taking a few steps from Billy towards the boy. "Did Pumpkin over there ask you to talk to me?" She said, glancing over towards Harley with an icy stare. "I'm here to paint eggs."

Harley: Harley watched as Mike approached the woman, and she heard her say 'pumpkin'. Her stomach churned and she started to walk towards Punchline, Bruce next to her, watching her closely. He'd attack if he had to. She stayed a few steps away, but was close enough to help Mike if he needed her.

Mike: "Well that was a misprint, you see it's open to everyone who don't work for a that piece of shit clown" he answered back. "I don't care what you came to do. The only thing you're going to do now is leave, and I'd rather not make a scene but I will."

Billy: Billy knew from the start that going to a villain part was a bad idea, now he was more sure, he didn't know what to do, he wasn't turned into Shazam, he had no powers, "Okay, now, let's not fight, we don't want things to end badly," he knew if they fought, more than one person could get hurt.

Punchline: Punchline eyed Harley as she came a little closer. This was who she was here for. Not her odd little bodyguard, not William. she was here for Harley Quinn. She wanted to see her. To know what she was dealing with. "I don't work for him." She corrected. She sort of did but she wanted to make it feel more intimate. More special. "We're partners." She took out her knife from her boot pocket and in one swift, cruel movement sliced open Mike's neck. Feeling the blood splatter on her face before she turned to Harley and Billy. "Oops... my bad."

Harley: Harley ran forward as soon as the woman pulled out a knife, but she was too late. She grabbed the woman by her ponytail, slamming her head against the top of the bar a couple of times. "Get the fuck outta my mansion," she hissed into her ear. She knew that Mike would wake up soon, but that didn't mean this bitch could come into her home and pull an attempted murder. "Don't make me pull out my gun, honey. I won't miss if I do."

Punchline: Punchline felt the woman tug her by her hair and smash her head against the table, not fighting against it. When she was done, she let out a small chuckle. Glancing up at her face from where she was holding her. "You liked him, didn't you? The little brat?" She whispered back. "Shoot me, dollface. I'm sure Pudding would just love that." She replied with a hiss before using her leg to kick Harley off of her. Immediately jumping on her so she could pin her to the floor. Pulling her face in close to the other woman's. "That's what you called him, wasn't it?" She said, ignoring the shouting all around her. All that mattered was Harley.

Harley: Harley slammed her head against the table again when the other asked about Mike. "Who I do an' don't like doesn't concern ya, toots. But I can tell ya one thing... I definitely don't like you." The use of the nickname she had for Joker caught her off-guard, and suddenly she was being kicked backwards. Her body pushed forward as the woman pinned her to the floor, and she headbutted her in the nose. "Yeah, 'cause that's what he was. My Puddin'. Jealousy is an ugly colour on you, sweetie!" she yelled, using all of her slightly enhanced strength to flip them over, now on top of Joker's new toy, her fingers wrapped tightly around her wrists as she pinned her down. "Tell me what ya want. Is it me? 'Cause I ain't goin' anywhere with you."

Punchline: Punchline's teeth grind together and her eyes bore into the other woman's. Anger clear on her face. She reached down to grab at Harley's neck and choke her when she felt the woman smash her head into her nose and she gasped. Blood dripping from her nose onto her snow white skin. She was as pale as he was and they'd never have that intimate connection because Harley blew up the Chemical Plant. "Say that again and I'll rip your tongue from your mouth." She snarled before Harley managed to get her down on the ground with her now straddling Punchline. "Oh... honey... I just wanted to meet you." She said before rearing up herself and smashing her own head against Harley's.

Harley: Harley could feel the woman's blood dripping onto her. It was disgusting, and she wanted to throw herself into a bath filled with sanitizer. "Rip my tongue from my mouth? Nice threat, Hannah Montana. I was with him fer years, d'ya really think a lil' threat like that is gonna scare me?" she growled. She stared down at the other, her grip on her growing tighter as she didn't get the answer she wanted. Before she could say anything in response, she was being headbutted. Their fighting styles were too similar. Had Joker trained her to fight like this? Her lip throbbed, and she felt blood dripping down her chin. "You fuckin' psycho," she screamed, letting go of one of her wrists to grab her gun from beneath her dress. "I'm gonna paint these walls with yer brains. It'll be the most beautiful thing anyone's ever seen," she warned. "I'll make sure ta invite Mistah J ta look at my new work of art. He loves it when I go feral."

Punchline: Punchline let out a deep chuckle and struggled to break free of the blonde's grip. "Hannah Montana? You're the one with the awful blonde weave." She retorted. She smacked their heads together and when she pulled back down, Harley was pulling for a gun and her wrist was freed. She could have easily grabbed a knife. She had two after all but... it was more fun to do something else. She grabbed a hold of the other's neck and forced her face closer to her own. Reaching her head back up and with her teeth biting down into her shoulder. "How's that for feral?" She spit out the blood to the side of them before moving her legs to wrap around Harley's waist and keep her still on top of her. "Go ahead, shoot me. Impress him. That is why you're doing this right. Because that's what you just said... and here I thought you were over him. My Prince."

Harley: Harley was ready to kill her. "Awful blonde weave? At least I ain't tryin' ta channel Ariana Grande with that high ponytail. Or is it just a cheap facelift?" she asked, a smirk on her face. Feeling a hand on her throat, she tried to stay as calm as possible. This was fine, she was into it. But when this stranger was doing it... It was a little scary. Her other hand reached up, grabbing the other woman's and trying to prize it away from her neck. A hiss left her lips as teeth sunk into her shoulder, and she pressed the barrel of the gun against the other's forehead. "Ya need ta keep those teeth where I can see 'em, Hannibal." As she listened to the other speak, she shook her head, feeling herself start to panic. It had taken her years to get to where she was today -- happily married, adopted kids... "He ain't yer nothin'. You think you mean somethin' ta a guy like him? Yer nothin' but a toy that he can mess with. That's why yer here now, right? He pitted you against me. Pathetic," she spat, lowering her gun and pressing a hand to the bleeding bite mark on her shoulder. "An' if ya ever bite me again, I'll pull yer fuckin' teeth out with pliers," she threatened, before sinking her own into the woman's arm. If she was going to have a scar on her shoulder, the other woman was getting one too. Fair was fair. She didn't stop, not until she was satisfied that she was causing pain. Pulling back, she grinned.

Punchline: She felt herself smile when Harley held the barrel of the gun pressed against her forehead. Tilting her head slightly back, Harley's blood bloomed at the edges of her lips and slowly dripped their way down her cheeks, like it was drawing a smile on the woman's face. She let out another chuckle at Harley's words and watched as she reacted to what she said. "You know... you kinda taste like he does." She commented, her voice low and her eyes wide. She was trying to make her jealous. Sure... Harley had been there for much longer then she had but she was his new thing now. She was there for him when Harley wasn't. She didn't run away, she took it. The bad, the good, the really ugly. Because she loved him. Harley didn't. Harley didn't know what that felt like and yet Joker never shut up about her. She was the one there everyday by his side and she kept having to hear him yammer on about how she used to call him Puddin'. How she used to smile better. Fuck that, she'd be smiling no longer. Not when Punchline had her way. "He loves me!" Punchline screamed at her when she tried to tell her that he didn't. "I'm no toy! I'm his right hand woman. He respects me. He cares for me. He didn't care for you!" She lied with a growl. Then Harley moved down and bit her back and she used her one free hand to grab at the back of her neck, at her baby hairs. Trying to force her off. When she finally was, Punchline glared ad her and used the way her legs were positioned as a way to force Harley down to the side. She then rolled them so she was on top and got up to her feet placing her foot on Harley's chest to keep her there.

Harley: Harley felt repulsed when she said that she tasted like Joker. They were nothing alike. Not anymore, at least. "Look, I'm inta some kinky stuff myself.... but that? That's just fucked up." She stared into the woman's eyes, seeing nothing but anger. Her own eyes used to be like that whenever she looked in a mirror. It was what being with a man like him did to you -- it gave you a hunger for violence and pain that you could never satiate. Eventually, his new plaything would see the light. After years of pain and abuse, mental torture. Harley didn't want that for her, even if she hated her right now and wanted to kill her. She was a puppet, just like she had been. But there was no way to make her see that. Being under his spell lasted for years. "He loves ya? Are ya sure about that? Does he love ya when he's leavin' bruises? Does he love ya when he's sendin' you out ta get hurt so he doesn't," she said, her voice low and angry. It was making her remember things she'd rather forget. This was supposed to be a fun night with her family and friends, and now it was a nightmare. "He doesn't care fer anybody!" she screamed back. "Nobody but himself!" The pain of the woman pulling her hair didn't really bother her. She'd been through so much worse, so she didn't even flinch. Once again, she was being put on her back, and she choked out a breath as the other put a foot on her chest. Reaching up, she dug her nails into her leg. "Did he teach ya this? Make yer victim feel small?" she asked, laughing as she lay there, looking up at the stranger. "Do ya feel powerful now? Like yer in charge? 'Cause you'll never be in charge of me. I'm in charge of me. Now get yer foot off me, an' go back ta kissin' his. This is yer last chance."

Punchline: Punchline: She hated her. Everything she said, she hated it. He didn't love her? Then how did she explain the good moments? Those days then he was good to her. When they'd dance together for no good reason. To no music. He'd say he just felt like dancing with her, when she asked him. How did Harley explain the times when they were alone and he'd actually let her kiss him? She felt Joker's love. She wasn't delusional or stupid. She knew it was there and the angry outbursts. That meant nothing. "Yes, he loves me then, too." She argued. Harley was screaming at her and Punchline just glared at her, watching her with a stone-cold face. She held the woman down and slowly pushed her weight against her leaning down to get a bit closer to Harley. "Maybe he did." She said. "He taught you it too, didn't he?" She said, her voice getting quieter. "I'm leaving, and not because you told me to. I could end you right now if I want." she said, taking the knife from her other boot and gesturing it towards her. "But I'd like to do it in front of him." She decided. "So he knows you're gone." She gave her one last kick before removing her foot from the other. Just noticing now the wave of dizziness in her head. She shook it, trying to get it back to normal. Taking a few steps away from her.

Pamela: Pamela had just walked into the ballroom as a woman, covered in blood, kicked Harley as she stood above her. She had been out and told Harley that she would be late to their party. She hadn't told her that she had began the process of creating more children. She would need a bette lab for that. Pamela quickly glanced around the room, noticing the blood all over their new ballroom. The shock of the scene wore off and rage bubbled up in her chest instead. The woman was thankful for the vines that grew on the outside of the house, because now she willed them to burst in through the windows. "Get the fuck away from my wife, you sad excuse for a clown! Who the fuck do you think you are? Did that bastard clown send you?" She screamed as she power-walked towards the woman, arms raised. Pamela didn't wait for an answer and she willed the vines to wrap the woman up tightly, squeezing her enough to hurt. She ran over to Harley and dropped to her knees. "Oh darling, flower, are you  alright?" she asked, panicked now, searching Harley for lie-threatening wounds.

Punchline: When the green woman burst in, Punchline frowned. She was on her way out but now she had to deal with the woman that Harley married. She didn't intend to fight Harley at all during this party. She just wanted to watch her, but ah, well. When in Rome.  The vines shot from the windows and came right towards her. She could get out of this but Poison Ivy would just wrap her up with what remains of the vines she would cut. Oh- She was rushing over to Harley now thinking that she had detained the problem. Focused on her wife. Her love. Oh, how week it was. Knife in hand she poked it through the vines. (They were pretty tough due to Spring but not actually that bad). Ignoring the pain from the squeezing in one jerk of a movement she sliced all the way through the plants and was able to release herself. Jumping down nimbly before quickly using the chance to leap out the broken window and out of the party. Hows that for an exit?

[myheartmightexplode]

As of Now I'm Down Straight Up

by MusicalSense

Summary

"He’s on his back again and this time he’s not looking at the sky; he’s looking right into the surprisingly blue eyes of Bert McCracken who just chokeslammed him into the ground and is now standing above him with his feet planted left and right of Gerard’s hips." Hallelujah.

In this AU Bert and Gerard didn't meet prior to warped tour and neither Three Cheers nor In Love And Death are out yet so technically it should be set in 2003, but like, the timelines don't really matter for this one. Inspired by an interview with MCR where Gerard talked about Bert chokeslamming a kid who got up on stage during their set.

There’s blood in Gerard’s mouth and he’s not sure if it’s his own. He runs the tip of his tongue over his aching front teeth and turns around to see if whoever headbutted him got away unscathed. He definitely felt his teeth slice through… something, which is kind of worrying since they are freakishly small and that means that he had a mouthful of some stranger which is… all a little unsanitary, isn’t it? A guy with a bloody nose bumps into him and Gerard gets a face full of Eau de Sweaty Armpit. He chokes a little and ducks and shoves – his go-to move in the pit – to keep Tall and Sweaty at a safe distance and then brushes his greasy hair out of his face. He’s standing at the edge of the mosh pit at Warped, probably too close to the speakers given his bad ear, but right now he does not care even in the slightest. He can feel each beat of the kick drum resonating in his bones and his heart is racing along with the music as the song crescendos and comes to a crashing, slightly off-key end. He will definitely have to incorporate something like that into their next record, he thinks.

“The next song is called ‘A Box Full Of Sharp Objects’.” Announces Bert McCracken. He looks good today, Gerard thinks. Really good. Sure, he’s just as sweaty as Gerard is, but the way his wet tangled hair looks with the red makeup smudges on his cheek and the manic glint in his eyes… Gerard gulps. Perhaps he does have a thing for boys who look like they would beat him up without hesitating and make out with him afterwards.

“Marry me!” Tall and Sweaty hollers next to him with the fervor and timbre of a frat bro after his sixth bear of the night. Gerard winces. Yeah, his hearing is definitely not going to improve anytime soon. Maybe he should start wearing the second in ear monitor too; he thinks he might be developing a tinnitus.

“Who, me?” Bert asks with wide eyes and an even wider grin on his face. He presses a hand to his chest in mock-surprise. Gerard’s not entirely sure but he thinks Bert’s wearing white nail polish on the left and black on the right hand. He wonders if it’s a Queen reference.

“Fuck yeah!” Tall and Sweaty yells. Gerard twitches. How did that guy even manage to keep his baseball cap in the pit? He’s pretty sure that he himself lost one or two pins and maybe his belt to the crowd.

Bert wags his eyebrows. “We’ll see about that later.” He turns to his bassist and giggles in that weird high pitched way of his. “Looks like I’ve got a date tonight, Jepha.”

Fuck. Fucking fuck. Why can’t Gerard be a sweaty frat bro? Sure, his Gran always told him to worry less and just ask for things because really, what could happen besides him getting rejected? But somehow he didn’t think that her advice would be applicable in this situation and yet… Oh god, she’d be laughing so hard if she could see him right now, thrashing wildly with the crowd at a The Used show mere hours before he had to be on stage himself just because he thought the singer was kind of cute and wanted to check him out live. The band launches into the next song, kicking Gerard back into action. He shakes his head a little and allows himself a small smile. So what if he has a tiny man-crush on another singer, he can still have a good time. He looks around quickly to check for people who look like they wouldn’t appreciate him throwing himself in their midst and when he doesn’t find any, he dives straight back into the pit.

God, he loves this so fucking much. The hot press of bodies around him, the elbows connecting with his ribs, even the feeling of sweaty skin sticking and unsticking from his. For a while he loses himself in the push and pull of it, careful to keep his head down so he doesn’t get hit in the face. Somehow he seems to be just the right height for that, not big enough to really stand his ground and not quite small enough to weave through the crowd like Frank does either. He feels someone pulling on the white stage shirt he’s wearing because it was the only semi-clean thing in his wardrobe after touring for a while. Somehow his stage clothes are always taken care of while his normal t shirts decompose in a smelly pile in a corner of their bus. Right now though, his last good shirt is dotted with small red blood splatters and he briefly worries about the state of his face which seems to be one big dull ache right now. He really hopes that the blood isn’t his; having to sing with a broken nose would suck balls.

His gaze connects with a short-ish dude with a bloody bitemark on his jaw and a bright grin. For a split second Gerard recognizes him as the person whose face he hit his teeth on but then he’s being hoisted up and carried on top of the crowd. He takes in a gasping breath and blinks up at the almost cartoonishly blue sky for a few moments. Sure, he’s crowdsurfed before, but usually inside smaller clubs and never at Warped where the audience looks like a boiling kettle full of rage and drunk scene kids. Maybe he should reconsider though, he thinks idly as he’s being carried away from the pit. Someone’s jewelry catches on his hair and the buttons of his shirt and he tries to keep his feet still so he doesn’t kick anyone in the head and there’s sky around him and the wavelike movement of the crowd under him, and he thinks maybe this is what it feels like to drift in the ocean during a storm, and then he’s being hoisted on stage.

‘Oh fuck’ He thinks. “Oh fuck.” He says. While no one’s technically going to kick him out for it he is technically also not supposed to be here and it’s taken him too long already; he should be jumping back right now; he’s seen other people do it and they always got away with it as long as they didn’t disturb the set, and he turns around and then someone grabs his throat and slams him to the ground and. Holy Shit.

He’s on his back again and this time he’s not looking at the sky; he’s looking right into the surprisingly blue eyes of Bert McCracken who just chokeslammed him into the ground and is now standing above him with his feet planted left and right of Gerard’s hips.

Actually, maybe he hit his head harder than he thought. He’s feeling a little faint right now. Bert’s hand is still around his throat. Gerard tries to swallow and chokes on his spit. He feels his pulse beating away frantically, even faster than the music now, and he wonders if Bert can feel it. The moment seems to stretch like the string of a bow being pulled back and Gerard worries that if he makes one wrong move he’s going to make it snap and hit him in the face.

Fucking hell. He’s going to die here. Above him Bert grins with all of his teeth and mouths along to the final chorus as the crowd goes wild. He locks eyes with Gerard and winks and then he. He licks his hand, from palm to fingertips, and wipes it on Gerard’s face and suddenly he’s painfully hard in his jeans. There’s sweat dripping down from Bert’s hair and his teeth still ache and he still can’t breathe properly and he thinks he just fell in love. He’s dying but man, what a way to go.

Bert, who doesn’t seem to have picked up on Gerard’s epiphany, gets up from his crouch and gets back to performing and after a second Gerard picks himself back up and leaps into the crowd before one of the security guys can usher him down and he still feels like he’s floating.

He doesn’t get back up on stage; it’s not like he could ask Bert for his number in the middle of a concert, right? Right. They’re either going to meet backstage or maybe they’re going to collab or, or, maybe they will never see each other again (‘Shut the fuck up Gerard you’re literally touring together’ His logical side tells him) but even if that’s the case, so what? It’s not like he just met the love of his life or anything. Ha.

He might be panicking a little.

Later that day, before he had time to change out of his blood splattered clothes (He thinks he might just keep them for the show, the red adds a certain element to the whole look…), he’s just wandering around when he comes across one of the billboards showing messages from fans and really just anyone who submits something via text message.

‘MCR rox my soxx’ He reads and smiles. Next up is a longer message. ‘Bleeding dude uknowho I choked meet me @10 bhind mainstg luv bert’.

Oh. Okay then. That’s definitely him, right? Gerard grins and touches the bruises starting to form on his neck. It seems like Bert wasn’t the only one who left an impression.