#and yeah sometimes they go overkill with it. but at least they try :heart:

[biracy]

While there's Obviously an issue w people who make characters not doing their research on the cultures those characters are a part of and naming, designing, and writing them based solely on stereotypes, I don't really like the way people like to "counteract" that by acting like anything that could even be remotely deemed "stereotypical" is automatically Problematic. Bc I'm Latino I notice this constantly w Latino characters, like this whole push to act like Good Representation involves no "stereotypical" (Spanish-language) names and no Spanglish and no Latin music and no Latin dance and no futbol and no beisbol and no "stereotypical" (regionally typical) food and no big families and no Dios Mio and etc. Idk it just sucks man LMAO maybe it's just me but I don't want a Latino character to be John Smith who never speaks any Spanish and thinks reggaeton is lame and has never seen a taco before. Giving a Latin character a Latin name isn't "stereotypical" it's engaging with the culture you're giving your character. Oftentimes it's a good shorthand way to tell your audience that a character is Latino, which if your goal is "representation", should be very important, no?

[k-dokja]

PLEASE PLEASE DO WRITE A RYHEI X READER PLEASE

This is my first time writing him so... whoopsie-

Your boyfriend united the gangs of the Kanto region.

It was not something you thought about much. Hard to link the fact with his face when he followed you around with his tail wagging. You never thought of Ryuhei to be a terrifying figure either. Not even when you met him at the beginning.

The despondent boy who came for your help when he returned from Korea was never anyone for you to worry about. Then again, maybe it was because you were never in a position to have anything to fear from him. You could never know.

"Ah, look at this! I won another one!"

His cry of victory took you back to reality. What you expected to be your boyfriend's cheerful smile got replaced by an enormous pink bunny plush instead.

"Aha, that's cute but..." You glanced back at the mountains of gifts behind you, all harvested from the arcade you were in. "Isn't this many an overkill? How are we going to bring these home?"

"Nonsense," he set the bunny down beside you, "nothing is ever too much when it comes to you."

With that declaration, he pulled out his phone with a cheeky grin, "Besides, transportation isn't a problem."

You soon learned what he implied by that sentence when you saw his gang members arrive. After they carried the rewards he won for you back to his place, Ryuhei was once again freed from the burden of hard labour and turned to beam at you.

Truly, you might not see him as scary, but your boyfriend was far from normal.

Once the coast was clear, the two of you returned to the inside of the arcade once more, steering clear of the rewards booth which he wiped out. You put the cowering manager who bemoaned at the empty shelves at the back of your mind when Ryuhei tugged at your sleeve, his excitement more than apparent on his face.

"Ah, let's try that next," he pointed at a vacant photo booth at the corner of the arcade, "I haven't gotten any picture with you."

"You do look like the type who likes that kind of thing..." You commented halfheartedly while allowing him to drag you along, his fingers intertwined with yours even until you entered the tight space.

He shot you a questioning glance once settled down. "What is that supposed to mean?"

You only smiled mysteriously. "It just fits you, that's all."

Apparently, just once was not enough for him. The two of you went for at least three rounds before Ryuhei was satisfied. By the end of it, you were spent from the excessive activities while Ryuhei remained cheerful as ever, using the opportunity to monopolize the editing software.

"Hey, isn't this cute?" His grin was presented while he showed you an image of you both making wacky expressions, decorated by countless stickers from all sides.

It was awfully extra, yet, you found it cute somehow. Apple in the eye of the beholder, as it was. "Yeah, it is," you nodded, "do you want to keep that one?"

"Yup, this one is for my wallet," he stopped to think, "unless you want it, of course?"

"Nah, go on ahead," you smiled back at him, "I'm fine with whichever as long as it had Ryuhei-kun in it."

The answer was replied with the truth of your heart, yet, somehow it flustered him a little. He continued to beam when he turned back to the editing screen despite the blossoming blush on his cheeks.

Truly, even if he was weird and wore a reputation unfit for his appearance, he was too cute sometimes. You almost wanted to squeeze him tight and pinched his cheek, but refrained from doing public decency if anything.

It was not that you were afraid of display of affection, far from it. With a boyfriend like him, one had to be more open with the idea than some. However, whenever you instigated the act, Ryuhei had the tendency to get too excited.

And you didn't say that lightly.

The last time it happened, he had to wear his jacket at the front to conceal the proof of his excitement. It was a mortifying ordeal for every party involved.

Ryuhei was quick to work once the two of you exited from both. The back of his phone case was filled without a single free space with pictures you had taken the moment prior. He waved the phone case at you, his happiness unbridled in his movement.

"There! Now everyone will know Kuroda Ryuhei is now a taken ma-"

You scarcely got a chance to react before Ryuhei got bumped forwards by another man passing by. With his tall height and bulked physique, the glare he gave you and your boyfriend was an intimidating one indeed.

"Get the fuck out of the way, you're blocking everyone."

Moreover, it was strange how he even ran into Ryuhei in the first place since the two of you stood at an unobtrusive position in the arcade. At first, Ryuhei didn't bother to react, only leaning down to pick up the strip of photos he dropped when he got bumped earlier.

However, soon as he reached for it, the offending man stepped on his hand and crushed it down. The action alone shocked you into wordlessness at his audacity, and maybe out of fear for the man's impending demise.

"Prissy bitch." The man cursed at your boyfriend, who remained shell-shocked after the impact. It was then that it clicked for you what exactly happened. Apparently, Ryuhei's pretty boy appearance and his excitement around you had drawn him into a target of harassment.

That was, perhaps, the biggest mistake of his life.

The glow of green in Ryuhei's eyes following that interaction was an expected one.

While you didn't think to stop your boyfriend from getting even and some more, what surprised was how hard Ryuhei went against the man. By the time it occurred to you that he might get into trouble at this rate, his knuckles had gone bloody from bashing the offender's face in.

"Woah, hey, easy there," you caught his arm before he landed another punch while straddling over the man. "I think he learned his lesson."

The green glow of his eyes softened immediately upon seeing you, "Sorry, ruined our date there," he muttered the words after straightening himself into a standing position, "I should've just punched him and be done with it."

"Nah, it's fine," you pulled the previous photo strip which he dropped earlier, a smile on your lips in the hope to soothe his upcoming sulking, "all good, see?"

He smiled again, less bright than before. However, his cheer soon returned to him once he took in the images of you two within the photos. "Yup, all good," he then added, "sorry again for ruining the mood."

Softened by his quick obedience, you leaned forwards to give him a rewarding peck on the cheek. "It's fine, let's just get out of here."

As you stepped to walk away, your boyfriend shot you a hesitant grin. "Ah, while we're doing that..." His eyes glanced down and you followed him. The sight you witnessed was one you were familiar with and even had grown to ignore in the worst of situations.

However, the occurrence of it left you no less unimpressed every time it happened.

"Ryuhei."

His grin turned sly now. "Whaaaat~ I have no control over how my body reacted."

"Yes. Yes, you do." You deadpanned. Unimpressed.

"Aw, can we at least go deal with it?"

"No."

To your utter disappointment, it became more prominent despite his pouting. "Aw."

Your boyfriend was never scary or normal to you, he was even cute sometimes. Yet, there was an indisputable truth that your boyfriend could be insufferably annoying.

[steve-rogers-ruined-men-for-me]

Teach Me

Summary: Bucky’s worried about you overworking yourself at your teaching job. 

Warnings: some swearing, cute couple shit

Words: 2014k

A/N: this is my first full fic! I’ve really missed writing just for fun and I have a few more fic ideas and hc ideas in the works! please please please comment and let me know what you think! 

No matter what, you always came to bed when Bucky did. Sometimes you stayed up on your phone or reading but you always at least sat on the bed with him. He knew that you had a big week coming up, with your principal coming to observe you, midterms drawing closer, and your students struggling with the new curriculum the district was imposing. 

You were a high school English teacher and Bucky had met you when your school had put on an assembly about the history of the Avengers. He had noticed you in the back of the auditorium, wearing a soft blue dress and encouraging your students to ask him questions about his prosthetic. He shyly asked Tony to see if he could contact the school later and get your number. He had rolled his eyes at him and had walked up to you and asked in plain English, “The Manchurian Candidate over there wants to take you to dinner. If I set up the reservation and promise to make him show up, will you go?” Your jaw had dropped and you had numbly agreed. James Buchanan Barnes wanted to go on a date with you? Despite your doubts regarding the reality of the situation, you showed up outside the quiet Italian restaurant and the rest was history.

Bucky smiled at the memory of you dressed in a red silk jumpsuit with your hair braided back. You looked like a modern version of the girls he flirted with during the forties. Only, back then, he had been wondering how to get up their skirts but now he was more concerned with taking his time getting the jumpsuit off your gorgeous body. He felt a twitch between his legs and, smirking, shook the feeling off. He padded down to the kitchen, thinking you had gotten hungry. When that search yielded no you, he wandered through the rest of the downstairs. He noted that your car hadn’t left the driveway and checked the calendar on the fridge to see if he had the opening shift at the mechanic’s tomorrow (he mercifully did not). But he took note of how small your writing was on your to-do list for Monday. 

Feeling a pang in his chest, he remembered how he had begged you to let him have your full attention on Friday and Saturday.  While you’d reveled in your domestic bliss, by noon on Sunday, you had been buried in your office with your laptop, surrounded by books, papers, and highlighters. Smiling to himself, he realized where you were. He headed up to the attic loft, converted into your office. The walls were a soft gray and the couch the two of you had bought for your tiny first apartment was squeezed against one wall. 

Bucky’s heart tightened as he saw you sprawled on the couch, wrapped in one of his massive flannels. Your desk light was on and the desk was messier than he’d ever seen it. Your blinking phone alerted him to the fact that you’d set an alarm for midnight, but had been so tired you’d slept through it, a given considering you were working yourself to the bone and it was two a.m. Afraid to ruin your organizational system on your desk, he returned the pens and highlighters to the little decorative cups you kept them in, saved every file you had open on your laptop before closing it, and pushed the papers in imminent danger of falling onto the floor farther back on the desk. 

Content that he had lessened the burden of cleaning you’d have to do tomorrow, he crouched next to the couch. Gently smoothing a stray hair out of your face, he whispered, “baby...come on, get up, let’s go to bed.” You opened your eyes slowly and then jerked upright, sending your phone flying and Bucky scrambling backwards. 

“What time is it!” you cried, frantic. You ran towards your desk, frantically pinging your phone from your Apple Watch. Your clock on your desk blinked back 2:05 a.m. at you. Bucky picked up your incessantly beeping phone and handed it to you as you slumped in your desk chair, head in your hands. 

“I just wanted to get this stupid assessment plan done,” you whispered. You hugged his flannel tight around you as tears started to fall. Bucky turned your swivel chair so you were facing him as he knelt in between your legs. You dropped your upper body and rested your forehead on his shoulder as you sobbed. The weight of turning in grades, making assignments, checking in with your students to make sure they were doing okay, it was weighing on you. Bucky had noticed you sleeping less and drinking more coffee but hadn’t truly realized the toll it was taking on you. Kicking himself for making you spend time with him instead of alleviating your burdens at work, he pulled you out of the chair to sit between his legs, curling you into him and rocking gently. After a few minutes, you tilted your chin up and scooched back. Sitting criss cross between his legs, you cupped your chin and closed your eyes.

“I don’t know what to do, Buck,” you said sadly. You tugged on a loose button on your sleeve, looking like a lost puppy. Bucky knew how much you adored teaching and how much you loved your students. You were always baking treats for them when they did well on exams, buying bagels so that they could eat breakfast, and extending deadlines for the kids who worked. He knew that the American school system had changed since the 1940s and when you had shown him what you had to teach in a week and just how much time and energy went into lesson planning, he almost formed his own teachers union to advocate for you. 

When he found out your dismal salary, he had to take a walk. He spent an hour with Tony railing against your pay and the administrators who punished you for the test scores of students that you had no control over. Tony sat him down after an hour of not being able to get a word in edgewise and finally pledged to harass the local school boards (and the Board of Education if they would call him back) about raising teacher salaries. Bucky had walked home to you pouring over birthday cards your sixth period juniors had given you because they’d gotten a tip that it was your birthday. (Peter helped Bucky hack your Google Classroom). He felt a wave of pride come over him as he looked at you, his selfless girl, thrilled that she was having an impact on the kids she loved the most. You getting so down on yourself broke his heart. 

“What’s wrong with your assessment plan?” he asked, intertwining your hands with his. You looked up angrily. “What ISN’T wrong with it is a better question!” you cried. “The district made the test up and it’s on a fucking scantron because what fucking isn’t these days and it’s not taking into account the fact that school is not the main focus for so many of these kids that have to fucking work and help support their siblings and all they are is numbers on a fucking piece of paper that tells you nothing about the effectiveness of my teaching or the district’s ability to educate them as a whole!” Bucky blinked rapidly as you huffed. You didn’t get angry very often, but when you did and you started to monologue, he understood why you received a distinction with your English degree. 

“Baby,” he started gently, “can I ask you something you may not like?” He knew that you were a planner and that the odds were you were beating yourself up about a task that had taken your coworkers thirty minutes to do. You always wanted to do right by your kids but if you didn’t start sleeping and taking care of yourself, you were useless to everyone, including yourself. You looked up at Bucky through teary eyes.

“Are you going to ask me if the plan’s done and I’m just being picky?” you asked in a small voice. Bucky stood up, taking you with him. He pressed your frame against him, putting your arms over his shoulders and resting his hands on your waist. He stayed to sway slightly, trying to lull you back to sleep and to try to help quiet your mind. “I wouldn’t say picky I just...look. I’m being selfish. I want you to come to bed with me. I want you to play with my hair and whisper that you love me when you think I’m out cold asleep,” he gushed, noting the slight blush that crept up your cheeks. “You are incredible. Your admin are literally fucking stupid, doll. Nothing you do will change that. You are trying your best and if you think that your kids won’t benefit from the 12 different plans you’ve cooked up, then you’re crazy. Your kids don’t need a version 13, baby. They need you whole, in one piece, and ready to fight for them if they need.” He kissed your forehead, trying to ease your creased brow. Giving in to his ministrations, you sighed. You thought about how this plan should’ve probably only taken an hour. But then you rewrote the plan for the week based off of if your kids took a lot of time on the test, a little time, got anxious during it, caught on fire during it, committed larceny during the test and you had to contact the police. You knew it was overkill but you also knew that budget cuts were coming, contracts were up at the end of this year, and you and Bucky were saving to buy a house instead of living in a condo forever. 

“Buck?” you whispered. He lifted his chin off your head and looked down.

“Yeah, doll?” 

You felt the exhaustion settle into you all at once. “Can we go to bed?” 

Picking you up and putting you in a fireman’s carry, Bucky held you the whole way down to your bedroom. He pulled out a shirt of his for you to sleep in while you brushed your teeth and rinsed off in the shower. He walked in right as you were towelling off and he slipped it over your head with ease. He offered to blow dry your hair but you declined, favoring slipping into a warm sleep with him. He cuddled you close, forgoing asking you to play with his hair in favor of trying to hug all the pride he felt about you into your body via osmosis. Your head was resting soft on his chest, one arm curled protectively around his torso. His metal arm was tucked up and around your shoulders, keeping you comfortable. His flesh hand caressed your arm around him to remind you that he would always be there for you. He loved you more than anything. As your breathing evened and his hand on your side rose in gentle time with your breath, he decided that he was going to call Tony tomorrow. He knew a few people who owed him from his time as the Winter Soldier and if they didn’t want their dirty laundry exposed, dammit he was going to make someone in the district fix the stupid test until it worked how you wanted it to work. He hugged you closer to him, giving you one final squeeze before he started drifting off to sleep. He slipped into a dream where he was a professor and you a naughty schoolgirl and he had just convinced you to bend over to pick something up behind his desk when...a loud snore from you jolted him back to the reality of his exhausted teacher girlfriend wearing his baggy shirt, with hair going every which way. There was no plaid skirt here. Only love and admiration. Bucky kissed your temple and willed sleep to come again. 

[millennial-star-gazer]

A Fire Dragon, His Princess and The Not-So-Terrible Party Aftermath: Chapter:5

A Fire Dragon, His Princess and The Not-So-Terrible Party Aftermath

Nalu week 2020 Prompts: Voice, Flirt, Charm & Smile(All implied)

Genres: Romance, Humor, New Adult Fanfiction

Pairing: Nalu/Endlu (Natsu x Lucy & E.n.d. Natsu x Lucy)

Rating: M for language, steamy and mature/adult sexual content (all consensual) in these and future chapters. Reader Discretion is advised.(You've been warned!)

Summary: God knows it was all fun and games at an outdoor guild party until a drinking contest results in a not-so-great time for a certain celestial wizard much to the dismay of a protective dragon slayer and company. Even worse is Lucy's hangover with some kind of mild flu and busted ankle to boot . At least a doting Natsu is more-than-willing to provide his mate plenty of TLC. One of my entries for Nalu week 2020 and part of the Nalu-centric anthology series The Dragon Demon and His Celestial Princess anthology series (slight au/ canon divergent).

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Chapter: 5: Of All The Over-Protective Loved Ones And Nonsensical Health Remedies

A/N: Hey folks, it's your girl back with another installment of AFHCPATNSTPA! Apologies for the delay! My beta and I have been somewhat busy on and off for different reasons which will be explained further in the bottom author's note. Anyways, Chapter 5 is finally posted for your reading pleasure with plenty of Nalu fluff, Gray and Natsu rival-related hijinks and humor to go around! Many thanks and a special shoutout to the awesome @mannyegb for helping me edit and further develop this chapter yet again! Seriously, words can't express how grateful I am for this dude's contributions or how invaluable they are ! Make sure to hit him up on Tumblr and Discord. Now without further ado, here's the chapter-enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Fairytail which instead belongs to the one and only Hiro-sensei instead!

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Legend

Italics: Fantasy, flashback & literary/ song quotes

Bold: First Person Thoughts

Bolded Italics: empathized word

Bolded Italics: outside of main story): A/N

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"Friends are the family you choose".

(NIN/Ithilinin: Elven Rogue)

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"Seriously Natsu? Again?! "

Lucy's exasperated voice echoed through the stairwell of the couple's duplex after returning home from a trip to the local physician's appointment and some errands. Can't believe we're having this conversation again. Little did the other nearby tenants and neighbors know that this wasn't the first time that the two disagreed over his sometimes -overprotective nature instincts or the level of " safety precautions" for the sake of his mate's well being.

Bloody Hell ...

"I'm not a porcelain doll, y' know!" The wizard grumbled, arms crossing over her chest. "I mean, really!"

"Mhmmm." Nastu merely hummed in response with a lazy smirk illuminating those sage eyes much to her chagrin.

"Are you even listening to me right now?"

"Course I am , beautiful" came his reply without missing a beat. "But damn." Difficult to miss the hint of a flirtatious purr in the fire wizard's voice or how his eyes swept over his mates form in apprecation that sent her pulse jumping into a frenzy . "Do you know what seeing ya' all flustered like this does to me? I mean you're even more adorable, gorgeous, and irresistible than you already are right now. Kissable too."

"Well, th-thank you" Lucy mumbled, heat rising and pooling in her cheeks. God knows how she couldn't but be a little subconscious over the effect of his natural charms despite being irritated. "But I don't think no's really a good time for flirting."

"Aw who says?" Natsu challenged with a throaty chuckle. Agree to disagree, princess ." Notto mention the gleam of mirth dancing in his eyes or the languidly smooth empathis on one of her beloved nicknames that he knew turned her knees to jellow .

Cocky bastard..

And damn were those supple hands currently settled on the curve of the summoner 's waist distracting in all the best possible ways.

"This couldn't be a more perfect time for flirting…"

One of the dragon slayer's hands was reaching to drag the blonde's locks through his fingertips. and Holy Hell did that blush deepen all thanks to that shit-eating of his and the way he continued to play with her hair .

Fuck ... there he goes again.

"Don't you think,Luce?" He finished, twirling, and tucking a stray tendril behind her ear as if to puncture his point further.

Damn it...

God damn did all those calculated ministrations kickstart the flustered girls heart into overdrive .

Again. So hard to focus right now. He 's that good…

As if that soft gasp tha wasn't t slipped out of her mouth wan't already enough. And pretty clear that noise undetected by Natsu if the way his sage eyes were glittering like coals was any indication.

"Someone' s flustered" His words came out as infuriatingly goading and yet velvety at the same time. " But I know you're into this as much as I am…. and you're falling prey to my charms." Natsu let his thumb lightly graze along the contour of her cheek. "Oh yeah. I can tell. Your heart's racing and everything." Now the fire dragon slayer wizard's forehead was mere inches from Lucy's. All that was needed for for her heart rate to skyrocket for the third time just as he so brazenly pointed out.

"Nastu..." the blonde started only for the words to die in her throat when her breath hitched from Natsu 's lips brushing against hers.

Shit...

"Are...you…trying…to…distract...me?" Was what she finally managed to force out, desperate longing seeping into her breathy tone.

"Me? Never." Natsu denied, the soft vibrations of his smoky timbre against her lips sending a tingle rippling across all those nerves. "Just having a little fun, is all."

"You are?"

"And I succeeded!"

Wait...what!?

Nastu was pulling back ever so slightly from Lucy without so much as a warning. God did that unwelcome disruption not fly so well with the mage who moaned in protest.

That pompous little...

"So that entailed luring your your mate in?" She eventually objected with a sour glare at her pompous -ass-of boyfriend." And then leaving her hanging? Pretty sure that classifies as some kind of entrapment! Just how much of a shameless flirt can you be?!"

"Opps.. guess you're not a happy camper right now," Natsu snickered, flashing her an awfully impish grin as if he were caught red-handed like a delinquent high school student drinking in class. "I mean I'm definitely a 'shameless flirt 'when it comes to you but I'm not going to leave you out to dry like some emotionally or romantically dead-beat loser. Knew exactly what I was doing and can't get over how cute my girl is when she's all flustered. No need to worry though." He gave a sly-yet-rougish wink that nearly left the summoner 'a heart stuttering.

Not that I'm going to tell him that.

"I promise to deliver on that promise of plenty of kisses and affection that we both crave so much. You'll see!"

"I... you ... y-you're such an ass!" Lucy stammered, entire face flushing an deeper shade of crimson. "Did you even hear what I said about... God damn it!"

"You mean about you not being made out porcelain?" Natsu was quick to supply, automatically clueing in. "Yes Luce, I did." His voice was all business now but more patient than cross. "And you're definitely right but that busted ankle of yours might as well be with how fragile it is right now. That's what having a sprained ankle means. A finger pointed down at Lucy 's sandal -clad foot with a tensure bandage .

"And why I need to carry ya'. Either way, you wanna get upstairs, right?"

"Well gee thank you for stating the obvious and what everyone already knows about sprained ankles." Lucy huffed, rolling her eyes. "And of course, I wanna get up upstairs but why is carrying me all the way up and down even necessary? You already gave me a piggyback to the clinic for God's sake! Not to mention pushing me around on a god damn platform cart while we were shopping for medicine and other supplies at the pharmacy without letting me set foot on the ground even once!

"Both were necessary to keep you from falling again." Natsu reasoned, still not budging on the matter; even when in the process of methodically removing the key holder's shoes. "Plus, I love having ya' in my arms and that cart had lots of room for you to comfortably stretch out on. Pretty practical if you ask me."

"More like total overkill!" Lucy tossed back, vein ticking above her eye. "Anyway, I might not be as fast, but can still definitely make my way up and down the stairs with a walking assist! Can't you just let me try at least?!"

"No can do, sweetheart," Natsu rebutted with a shake of his head. Good lord it was astounding how this extremely persistent man was able to unwittingly shoot down all of her ambitions for any kind of semi-independent mobility. and yet be so damn patient and even-tempered at the same time. "Can't risk you missing a step and taking another tumble down these stairs."

"Ugh...Oh My God- you're unbelievable!" Lucy couldn't help but yell; throwing her hands up in ggravation. which was met with an infuriating laugh of amusement from a certain pyro .

"The most unbelievable of them all.! Now quit complainin' relax and enjoy the ride up to our apartment!"

"Natsuuuu!"

Such a debate became a common occurrence in the Dragneel-Heartfilia household over the week with neither Natsu or visiting friends— Celestial spirits included- letting Lucy out of their sight or use stairs by herself. The extremely disgruntled mage would often gripe about her "stupid over-protective boyfriend and friends" even though ;despite secretly melting from being in the dragonslayer's arms all the time along with the rest of his "TLC." Not so much with Ezra, however, who'd often insist on personally escorting Lucy up and down the stairs herself ;when it wasn't by Natsu, Happy or anyone else.

My God is that woman overly cautious! It's beyond irritating!

Other than that, one minor pet peeve, Lucy supposed she couldn't really complain too much. Not when she was blessed with spending quality time with the love of her life and phomoneal comrades/friends who were all more than willing to keep her company. Well, okay save for that one time involving a nonsensical squabble about ailment remedies between Natsu and Gray one day.

"I'm telling you— these will help Lucy feel better!" Natsu insisted, dumping a paper bag of what could be described as god-awful-Scotch-covered-eye-sores-with-strings-attached on the counter. "See?" A hand patted the side of the misshapen bundle of items.

Uh...

Lucy meanwhile, couldn't help but steal a furtive glance of disbelief from her coral-haired soulmate; who was currently sniffing the unsightly abominations with an particularly intense focus for some inexplicable reason.

"The hell are ya' doing , charcoal-brains?!" Gray demanded, voice coming out in a mixture of incomprehension and disdain. "And what even are those things?"

"Inspecting these babies for germs," Natsu replied with an eye roll as if the answer was the most obvious in the world. "Duh! What else would I be doing'? Can't have em' infecting Lucy. And they're a supposed to be a special kind of talisman for health and good luck. Even an ice overrated snowcone like you should know that. Basically Scotch-taped covered piles of leaves and Vic patches wrapped in tissue paper. If I hang these around the apartment, then they should do wonders for Luce's health."

"You know by gradually sucking the virus toxins from her body until she's better," he tacked on with an 'exuberant grin. "Or so I heard from Nab, Maco, and Wakaba. Dudes bought entire boxes full for 20 jewel a piece from a pop-up vendor of some merchant in the market. The lady swears by them and everything. Either way, aren't they awesome?! Right, Luce? His head turned towards Lucy. "Bet you'll be better in no time!"

"I ...uh... " The blonde sputtered, still too bewildered for words." I don't…."

"Oh Good God," Erza muttered, smacking a palm against her forehead. "Of all the—-Natsu, I highly doubt those would be effective in treating Lucy's illness."

"Huh? Why wouldn't they be?"

"Well..."

"Oh jeez...How can anyone be this dense?"

Gray was shooting out of his seat at the table with an exasperated noise. "Step aside fire boy, I'll find Lucy something. Her fridge should have some suitable ingredients." A hand pulled opened the door of the fridge before rummaging around inside much to Lucy's confusion Course why a random assortment of food in the form of onions and ginger Along with some lemons were being cleared out was anyone's guess.

"Onions, lemons and ginger" The ice wizard announced, sounding tremendously pleased with himself. "Should be just what the doctor ordered for Lucy. I'm gonna chop these up and boil em' with some cinnamon in a tea for her."

Wha? Is he for real?!

"Wait….I'm sorry you want me to drink what now?"

Lucy 's brain short circuited with an owlish blink at the same time that some revolted noises could be heard from the rest of Team Natsu. More specifically Salamander 's gagging and Erza nearly vomiting in her mouth.

"Well at least Lucy gets it" Gray voiced aloud to no one in particular with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. "Now to find a knife and boil some water for the tea."

"Yo, you out of your mind, ice-dick?" Natsu demanded, more than a tad incredulous. "It's pretty obvious she doesn't want what you're selling and can't say I blame her." His eyes narrowed in revulsion with a flash of exposed canines poking through his lips. "That kind of 'tea 'sounds disgusting."

Just for Natsu's striking emerald eyes to immediately soften when landing on Lucy.

"Don't worry Luce," He soothed, his voice lifting to a sympathetic coo. "I'll protect ya' from that big meanie and his stupid ".

" Uh Yeah, please do," Lucy beseeched, words trembling slightly. Honest to God that the astral almost shuddered at the prospect of such a horrendous-tasting tea invading her tastebuds. "I don't even want a sip of that stuff."

"And Why would any sane person expect you to? Not me or Ezra. Can't say the same about droopy eyes here." Natsu tossed a pointed glare at Gray which was readily met with a raised middle finger. "You really that hell bent on brewing whatever nasty crap you call tea, buddy? Then be our guest and drink it yourself. But keep it away from Lucy and out of the kitchen. We don't need that shit stinking up the place."

"Tch— shows what you know" came Gray's disparaging scoff by way of a reply. "Pretty sure you wouldn't know a proper health remedy was if it hit you in the face."

Uh-oh ...

Gray's words really seemed to touch a nerve judging by Natsu's offended growl.

"The hell is that supposed to mean, stripper?" He sniped, vein throbbing in his forehead " What? Are ya really looking' to piss me off or somethin'?"

"Yeah, just maybe I am!" Gray countered with salty heat and matching his rival glare for glare. "You want to cry about it? And you heard what I said. God ... no wonder Lucy's still sick what with your clueless ass and all failing to take care of her.."

"You take that back asshole!" Natsu seethed, foaming rabidly at the mouth. Or rather smoke circumventing from his nose and mouth what with him being a fire dragon demon and "literal hothead "and all.

"Make Me—ow!"

The rest of whatever Gray was trying to say was cut off by a flying "talisman" that just struck him point blank in the face.

"Hey!" He snapped, grudgingly rubbing his temple with a hand." The hell was that for, ya damned fire hazard?!"

"What do ya think, dumbass ?" Natsu flung back without missing a beat. "You got some nerve….insultin 'a dragon's pride like that!"

"Yeah? So what?"

"Seriously?! You pretty much implied I don't know how to take care of my own mate!"

"Yes and?"

Uh-oh...

"And it was a total dick move, dingus! That's what! Where's your sense of common decency!?"

"Wasted on incompetent dipshits like you, apparently!"

"What was that, frosty?!"

"You heard me "

"That's it you, walking freezer burn! Them's fighting words!"

"Oh yeah? Bring it flame-bitch!"

"Take this!"

Oh god ….

The next thing anyone knew were that that the bickering rivals were launchimg projectiles—aka "Talismans" at each other much to her dismay.

No...

"No fighting in our kitchen!" Lucy squeaked; cadence raised to a higher pitch. " You could really break something! So stop!" The afflicted girl couldn't help but watch with alarmed eyes when her desperate pleas seemed to fall on deaf ears. Something always gets completely wrecked or destroyed when these two butt heads over anything!

Seriously, who could forget all the destruction those two left in their wake or millions of jewel racked in subsequent, property damage during their last scuffle? Like say the accidental beheading and subsequent toppling of that statue which also happened in Hargeon's beloved town founder for instance? Not to mention the scorched garden of the mayor's prized purple and white orchids. Not Lucy, that's for sure.

I really don't want them breaking anything….

Erza meanwhile. was practically frothing at the mouth from all that pent-up rage in a very-if-not-entirely-proverbial sense of the word.

"Good God—those two!" The re-equip mage ranted, vein pulsing right above her brow. "Always butting heads over one asinine matter or another! The hell is wrong with them anyways? Either way, enough is enough! I really should... no probably best not... Oh screw it!"

Erza was on the other wizards in a flash, banging their heads together with an audible crack. And good lord who could miss the stunned noises of pain that simultaneously cirumented their throats.

"OW!" Natsu and Gray whimpered in unison. "That really hurt ,Erza!"

"Yeah!?" Erza barked . "Well maybe you two dolts should've thought of that before you started acting juvenile and making a mess! I mean take you for instance, Gray! Disrespecting a dragonslayer's pride was a garbage move just as Natsu pointed out! Haven't both Master and UR taught you more sense than that? Oh, and let's not forget you doubting Natsu 's ability to effectively tend to care for Lucy despite doing more than a standup job so far for the most part! No wonder he's offended!"

"Hey, it's not my fault if the dude can't take a joke," Gray grumbled, defensive resentment leaking into his tone. "Or that he has a ridiculously overinflated and fragile ego."

"Neither helpful or okay, Gray!"

"Yeah, so there dickwad!" Natsu cut in with his tongue shooting out for good measure. "See?"

"Oh yeah... you really..."

"Oh no you don't!" Erza whirled on Natsu who shrank under the heat of her glare with another whimper. "And yes, I'm talking about you Natsu Ignatius Dragneel! Don't think for a minute that you're getting out of this scott- free!""

Oh shit ... Erza just used Natsu's full name…. She must mean business.

"What? Me, really?" Nastu spluttered, hands still raised in defense as if fend the intimating scarlet woman off. "What did I even do anyway?"

"Hmm, what did you do?" Erza questioned, rolling her eyes. Oh, and her words were just laced/ dripping/ trickling/ with just the right amount of pointed sarcasm. "Care to take a wild guess? How about those godawful abominations you call talismans for one? Look at them! Anyone can tell these are a sham! I mean really, Natsu! The hell were you thinking?! Normally, you're much better at sussing out onpossible scams and cons. How could you let yourself be duped out of your hard -earned money like that?"

"Aw- come on!" Natsu bleated "Didn't mean to, honest! All I wanted was to help Luce recover more quickly and honestly thought these things would help. That's all! I won't buy any more—swear to God! Just please don't bust my balls, Erza! I need those!

"Calm down. I'm not going to do that. It's easy to tell your intentions were pure regardless which is most important."

"Really? Thank you, you kind, merciful, woman!"

"Yes, yes,.. that's all fine and good," Erza chuckled in amusement with a light shake of her head as a response .

"Now about those talismans. They are a problem. " Erza's voice fell into a more sober tone with a hand cupping her chin in thought. "Word on the street is that Fiore is being targeted by a fraudulent band of thieves and con artists. Popping up in various towns and cities with those "vendors", posing as legitimate shop keepers and merchants —that sort of thing. and from what I've heard , these people are trying pass off bogus goods as authentic souvenirs."

"So, ya think there's some kind of link between those and what I bought?" Natsu quickly caught on matter-of-factly. "As in all that crappy stuff you mentioned ?"

"Yes, precisely that. I'm sure we can all agree that how poor unassuming customers are being ripped off by those criminals just isn't right. Something must be done."

"Okay—like what?"

"Helping folks of Magnolia getting their money back for one —yours included. And there's also the matter of filing a report with the magic reinforcement unit and other authorities . They'd want to be informed of the culprits' criminal activity ASAP. In fact, why don't the two of us go now?"

"What? Ya' mean that you actually want us to leave right now?!"

Natsu visibly balked at Erza's suggestion as if being ordered to watch Ichyia perform a strip tease in nothing but a pair of - sparkly -Leather, assless chaps.

"I.. don't…"

"Yes, I figured that would be the most efficient course of option" Erza reasoned, lifting a questioning brow at his response. "Why? Is there a problem?"

"Uh yeah..., a big one!" Natsu protested with a vigorous nod. " Going now would mean leaving Luce's side" His whole tone shifted into a whine. "Especially when she's still not feeling 100% or if it means being without her in my arms for too long. And right now, looking after Lucy and being able to spend time with her is what's most important. Not to mention what I want the most! Please… just let me take good care of my mate and queen and hold her! That too much ask?"

"No, and your feelings are understandable. That in mind, it would still be unethical to turn a blind eye to petty crimes at the expense of innocent civilians."

"Yeah, of course. But it's just…."

Sheesh… Natsu's being a bit of a drama king right now. I mean I love the guy and its always great having him around for the most part despite the fact that he sometimes gets on nerves. Completely normal for all couples even ones like us but that's besides the point. Anyways, he's being super sweet and everything but there's no need for him to blow a gasket when they would only be gone for a couple hours at most. Plus Erza's right about putting a stop to those jerks and getting those other people compensated. and it's not like I won't be okay without them or by myself a for little bit...

"Hey guys," Lucy finally spoke up after a few minutes, drawing their focus of everyone's eyes back on her. "Not that your efforts and spending time with me aren't appreciated, but pretty sure I'll be fine on my own for a little while if you want to report those people and get your money back." No real heat to her words though.

"Hmm... don't think that's a good idea, "sweetheart." Came Natsu's reply, his timbre pitched soft; though she didn't miss the pleading note in his words. "You're still not in the best shape right now. Like Mavis knows I don't really feel comfortable leaving you alone to fend for yourself right now, y' know? I mean what if ya' end up barfin' with your head over a toilet bowl or falling again?"

Not really that much of an nasty shock to say the least especially seeing how the couple were practically inseparable ever since that hazardous incident at the party.

"Don't be too surprised if Natsu's refuses to leave your side." Levy's kind voice from a recent lacrima video call echoed inside Lucy's head "or even let out of his sight-or sense range for that matter. You remember learning about how dragon slayers, demon's and hybrids are essentially hardwired to be extremely protective and territorial of their bonded, right? Well those already -fierce instincts are get an even bigger boost during certain times... like say when they're in heat . Not to mention when their soulmates are sick, injured or both in your case. In any case, Natsu's no exception especially with how you're one of the people he's been most protective of even before you two were officially an item node as we all know. Anyways, be prepared for him wanting to remain extra close to you and special attention. Think plenty of affection and physical contact like snuggling, kisses, doting on you —things like that which is always a bonus. And pretty sure he is going to hoard you. I mean the dude going isn't gonna take kindly to anyone he feels is trying to steal/snatch you away from him. Gajeels the same way. It's not so bad though."

Levy was right. Not that I'm complaining...

"We really should get going Natsu," Erza chimed in after a few minutes. The sooner these matters are sorted out the better. Either way, it shouldn't take us too long-a few hours tops."

"Yeah, I know..." Natsu replied , an unmistakable flicker of reluctance in his eyes. "But…I still don't want to leave Lucy right now…." Sage fully connected with honey-brown as a hand was reaching to gently caress Lucy's cheek. And Mavis knows she couldn't help but naturally lean into the warmth of his touch or the content smile forming on her lips.

"Pretty sure I made my reasons clear anyway."

"Yes, but…"

"Hey bro," Gray piped in —not unkindly this time."I can easily hold the fort down and keep Lucy company while you guys are out."

"Wow…Really?"

Natsu instantly seemed to perk up.

"Yeah, I'd be more than happy to. Plus, we can summon one of her spirits and Happy to help for a fun but chill time. That way, you can trust that your girl is in capable hands and won't be bored."

"Good point!" Natsu rhapsodized, bumping his fist with Gray's. "Thanks, bro!"

"Yes, I agree" Ezra concurred, an approving smile crossing her lips. "That's very gracious and cordial of you. Way to be a great friend."

"That's what I'm here for and my pleasure, Natsu."

"Guess you're not so bad after all"

"Course' not. I am pretty awesome, after all."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Sometimes... So, what about it, Luce?" Natsu went on to inquire, far more chipper now. " You gonna to be okay with Gray and some of the others taking over for a bit while Erza and me are out ?"

"Yeah Lucy, what he said," Gray followed up with a cordial smile of his own. . "You and me can kick it and chill for a little while. Maybe even break into the candy stash and watch movies with everyone."

"Sure!" Lucy chirped, heart leaping in excitement from the prospect of a low-key but fun kickback with splendid company. "And Natsu and Erza can, join when they get back from their errands, right?"

"Yup! Now here," Natsu instructed, pushing a glass of water on the table towards her." "Drink some more of your water. Anyways, Erza and I can bring back some goodies from the local bakery after too,. You good with that ,Erza?" He tossed a hopeful glance the armour- clad wizard's way.

"Sure—sounds good to me!" Erza jumped on board, eyes lighting up with delight. A trip to the bakery would be most excellent. All those delicious confections, yummy treats like gourmet cupcakes and strawberry shortcake. Ooooooh." The scarlet woman's hands clapped together in giddy enthusiasm.. "I can practically taste it now —so divine!"

"Yeah but think about lava- brains though" Gray quipped without missing a beat. "What are the odds he'll devour whatever he doesn't give or share with Lucy?"

"Ohhhh valid point" Erza echoed, lips pulling up into / a smirk. I wouldn't put it past him to cleanin out half of the bakery's front counter. Now why don't we get a friendly little wager started? Is 20 jewel acceptable?"

"Sure. I'm game."

"Ooh... why not make it ...30?" Lucy joined in with a light giggle. "I mean what's to say he won't clean out most of the shops and the other desert shops in town?"

"Hey! Not cool!" Natsu objected, though such sour words were belied by the glimmer of mirth in his shamrock eyes. "Makin' bets about whether or not I'll stockpile deserts and shit! I mean talk about takin' cheap shots at your leader! I am Salamander of Fairytail, damn it! Alpha drake of the dragon nest, and a Mighty and fierce dragonslayer -demon hybrid! I deserve your respect and praise!"

"Oh?" Erza spurred him on, clearly entertained by the salamander's theatrics. " Is that a fact?"

"Damn right it is!"

"And you, Luce!" Natsu bemoaned with extra melodramatic flair. "Even my own precious soulmate is betting against me and egging' the other two on?" Impossible not to notice how Natsu's hand clapped over the heart in a display of feigned offence. "How you' wound me, woman!"

"Opps," Lucy uttered, a teasing lilt to her words. "My bad. Are they really that wrong though?"

"Ooh, you got me there!" Natsu jibed s, lips breaking into a cheek into a cheeky grin agrin that set Lucy 's heart all pit-patter. "Touché and shit."

"Just as I suspected."

"Yeah, I figured!" Natsu laughed, mussing her hair with one hand. "Anyway, how about Erza and me pick up some dumplings on the way home? Maybe a Party pack with plenty for everyone to share? We can get some other things for dinner too— Our treat!"

"Ooh yes please!" Lucy crowed, mouth practically watering from the zesty-flavored-packed dumplings from one of many Magnolia's local fusion joints. "Can some be fried? And be filled with beef? Maybe tandoori chicken and cheese too? And could I have 3 or 4?"

"Yeah, sure." Natsu agreed, goodnaturedly as always. "Whatever you want. You really must be cravin that stuff today, huh?" And God she couldn't help how her heart stuttered at the way her grin morphed into a another kind of smile entirely; More subtle, tremendously fond, even. "Normally I'm the one askin' for all this different kind of food. Good to know that you have great taste and that I'm rubbing off on you more and more each day though."

" Uh, yeah… thanks. Though you don't think it's a bit much?" Lucy questioned, now glancing up at her boyfriend with a smidge of tentativeness. She couldn't help but second-guess her request especially seeing how it was partially driven by voracious craving for carbs. "Cuz I'm wondering if that many dumplings is a tad too many now."

Maybe something healthier would be better...

"What? Are you kidding?" Natsu refuted, bursting into stunned laughter . "Of course it isn't. Why would it be?"

"Well, when you put it that way" Lucy resounded in agreement, the corner of her lips twitching into a sheepish grin over how silly I'm being. "Guess I was overthinking it just a little."

"See?" The dragonslayer pointed out, punctuated by a light tap on the tip of the blonde's nose with his finger. "Now you're getting it! And hey, look at it this way! Whatever my princess and queen wants, she gets."

"Well, who am I argue to with that? Anyways, you guys heading out now?"

"Yeah," Natsu sighed, a touch of reluctance seeping back into his gravelly timbre. "Guess we oughtaa . Really don't like the idea of leaving your side though there are some things to take care of. And besides the sooner we leave, the sooner I can get back to you."

How the summoner's heart gave a little thump at those touching words that reached her ears!

"What you're saying is definitely true" Lucy breathed, finding herself adrift in those arresting eyes of his. Onyx with flecks of jade that always seemed to shine in just the right angle of sunlight on bright days. And did she mention the sensation of Natsu's fingertips brushing her cheek, the tucking a stray lock of blonde hair behind her ear? How it all sent sparks racing through her nerves! "And I can't wait for you to get home so that I can be in your arms again too."

"Mhmm yeah" Natsu hummed in agreement., stroking along the side of her temple now. "I'm definitely looking forward to all that too. Also cuddling with ya' on the couch of course. Should be great! Anyway, make sure to take it easy and stay hydrated, okay? And don't forget Erza and I are one just one call away if you need anything."

"Okay, Thanks Natsu."

"Anytime," he rumbled with that same affectionate smile that always melted her heart . "See you soon, Luce." Lips pressed a light kiss atop the celestial mage's crown with a hand palming the side of her head. God such a rush cozy seeping through her bones and warming her soul to the core.

I truly love him and that'll never change..

"Yeah, likewise.. Hurry back, okay?."

" You know I will."

"That I do".

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A/N: All right that's Chapter: 5 ,folks! Apologies for the delay again! As stated previously, both my beta and I have been busy for different reasons related to differing schedules, life circumstances, responsibilities, appointments, hobbies and a somewhat more active social life among other things (with increasing vaccination rates unless everything goes south again). Not that this has necessarily prevented me from writing or working on my wips but there's also been days where I haven't been feeling well, a case of writers block or there simply just not being enough hours in a day to accomplish everything I want for whichever reason lol. In any case, this chapter is posted now and I'm trying to get back into working on writing projects more often. So that's that at least.

Anyways, hope you enjoyed the chapter! Once again, please don't hesitate to drop a comment/review and share. Check out the rest of my writing and stay tuned for new projects along with updates to my other WIPS too! ((Corresponding links are above in this post, bio and navigation bar if reading this on tumblr. Also in my FF and A03 profiles.) All right. that's all I have to say for now. Thanks to all my friends, mutals, followers and readings for their ongoing show of support over the years. You all rock! Take care until next time! Bye!

[dork-empress]

Singing in the Dead of Night

Damian Wayne meets a new masked persona in Gotham, and everyone has to adjust to her.

AKA I have a lot of headcanons about Lucy Quinzel and I'm making it other people's problem.

I want it up front that I haven't read these comics, just a lot of wiki pages and tiktoks. If there's a fun thing in the comics you can tell me, but this is my own version of this universe and these characters.

This is going to be the main story, but I may do some offshoots. If you want to subscribe, chapters are also posted on my Ao3 (link in my description).

“You need to take things less seriously.”

Damian looked up, looked down, and then looked back just to be sure it was really his father who asked. It was hard to tell sometimes if your superhero father had been replaced or possessed or something. “Are you serious? YOU’RE telling me that?”

“That should enforce to you how dire the situation is.” Bruce said, leaning back in his chair. “You’re still a kid,”

“I’m 15,” Damian said, then thought about his varied adventures, “Technically…”

“My point exactly,” Bruce said, turning a page on his crime reports, “You should enjoy being a kid, for a while.”

“Oh, did you enjoy being 15?” Damian said, and maybe that was a low blow, but if Bruce wasn’t ready for him to call him out he...shouldn’t have made him upset. Hmm.

Bruce looked up and stared into his soul, and Damian worried he might have stepped in it a bit. He backed up a step in case. Bruce took a deep breath, looking at him. “My childhood was stolen from me, but I at least had one. As did all the other Robins. You’re not responsible for what happened to you,but I think you could use some time. I couldn’t offer you a childhood then, and I can hardly do that now, I know, but I can do what I can.”

“And what are you doing?” Damian asked, narrowing his eyes.

“You’re suspended from Robin duties.”

“WHAT?!” Damian exploded, getting in his face. “What are you talking about?!”

Bruce didn’t flinch, “Until the Wayne Manor Christmas Party,” Bruce said, “I’ve called Tim and he’s willing to cover for you until then.”

“He doesn’t NEED to cover me,” Damian snarled, “I’m right here! I’m not injured, or dead, or ANYTHING I just--WHY?”

“I told you,” Bruce said, “You need to find other...hobbies, or form connections or SOMEthing. Anything other than the lifestyle. You have two months, you’ll live.”

Damian curled his fists, shaking, but had no more arguments. “You’re the WORST!” He said, and went off to his rooms.

The room was left in stony silence for a moment. Alfred came in, changing out Bruce’s cup of tea. “You don’t actually expect that to work, do you?”

“Not really, no,” Bruce said, “But he’ll be out of my hair for a little bit.”

Alfred was very dignified and so did not snort. But it was close.

Damian went out at night, saying he was off with a friend. Best to keep things vague, but if Bruce pressed, he’d say he was with Jon, and could probably bully Jon into vouching for him.

He dressed all in black, jumping from the rooftops, looking for trouble. There was usually plenty of it in Gotham. He just had to avoid the Bat Signal hanging in the sky and he’d be fine.

He heard a crash and looked down. Jewelry store robbery. Perfect.

He jumped down to ground level and approached the broken in window, taking out his sword. “Anyone in here, it’s better to surrender now,”

Of course, because it was Gotham, he wasn’t met by a normal jewel thief. No, instead, what approached him was a small walking orange balloon animal dog.

Because of course it was.

With an act first, think later attitude, he stabbed at it. He regretted it instantly as it let out some sort of opaque gas, the effects of which he didn’t want to find out. He pulled his shirt up over his mouth in hopes of preventing himself breathing too much in.

“Oh wow,” a voice said behind him, “Are you Robin?”

Damian whipped around and scowled. The gas was obscuring whoever was there, but the silhouette seemed like something of a ballerina. Why couldn’t one criminal just be normal?

He jumped back, ready to attack, but she didn’t fight him. “I’m not Robin,” he said, “I’m…” he didn’t think of another name. Ugh, this was more complicated than it needed to be.

“Huh,” she said, heading over to the display case, “This city sure has a lot of teenage ninja fighters, doesn’t it? Is ninja appropriative? Hmm, will have to think on that.”

She picked up a diamond ring from the display case and headed for the door. “Put that down!” Damian yelled at her, lifting his sword up.

“What, are you going to kill me for one ring?” She said, holding it, “Kinda overkill, don’t you think, Blackbird?”

Damian put his sword up to her, blocking the exit. “I’m not going to kill you, I’m just going to stop you,” he said, determined, but then her words sank in. “Blackbird?”

“Well, I’ve got to call you something, isn’t that how these superhero fights all go?” She stepped forward out of the fog, a girl about his age with a white painted face, lips painted into a heart, and bright orange and pink eyeshadow. “I’m Commedia, the hero of funny, the dancing clown, the laughing knight, etc etc.” she said, “im still working on my name too.”

She did a fancy twirl, getting out of range of Damian’s sword, which he countered to block her from the entrance again. “Oh, you like to dance?” she said.

“Clown, huh?” he said, staring her down, “You work for the joker?”

She laughed, high pitched and sweet, “Very much no,” she said, twirling again through the store, “Though I understand the confusion. No, Joker is...well, a joke. He’s not even registered in the clown registry.”

“There’s a clown registry?” He swung his sword.

This time, it came to a stop, with a matching jingle. He frowned, and saw it was a tambourine that the woman had lifted and stopped the sword like a shield.

He stared at the girl, Commedia, in stunned silence. She smiled brightly at him. “Well, this has been fun. But I really ought to head out. Raincheck on that dance, Blackbird.”

With a spin and a jump, she made it past him and rushed out the door, throwing a pink flower behind. A gas filled up the room in her wake, obscuring the view. Damian unfortunately got a whiff before he could block his nose, but he knew a simple fog cloud scent when he smelled it.

Damian went back into the shadows before the police inevitably arrived. It did seem below his paygrade, fighting someone who only stole a single diamond ring. But it was even stranger for that fact. A strangely dressed clown woman engaging in very strange and specific crimes in Gotham screamed “beginning of a dangerous plot.”

He wanted to go in swinging as usual, then remembered that if his father heard anything about a young person with a sword threatening police, he might catch onto the fact Damian went out that night. So, he went with the subtle approach. Breaking into the jewelry store’s records.

He was glad he did. It turned out that ring in particular had a history. It had been bought, returned, bought again, and returned once more, all by the same man, a Matthew Crenshaw. A quick records search brought up that he was a simple caller at a center. Nothing special about him. But, he was tied to the ring, and that tied him to the girl, so that was his first stop.

He tracked down the apartment to find Matthew Crenshaw in the middle of a very strange day. Damien watched through the window as Matthew lay on the floor of his meager living room, looking up at Commedia herself. She held the ring out to him, offering. “Well come on, man! Take it!”

“I don’t…” he mumbled, “Who...who are you?!”

“Just call me your fairy godmother,” she said. “Come on, you said you wanted it! So take it!”

“That’s…” Matthew said, “That’s the ring that Jenny liked...that she…”

“That you said would make the perfect proposal!” She said, dancing around, “So? Here it is! Now you can propose for real!” she said, giving it to him.

He juggled it, nearly falling over. Commedia came rushing over, jumping through the window and onto the fire escape. “Alright, hands up,” Damian urged her.

She turned, smiling. “Why, Blackbird? We going on roller coaster?” She put her hands high in the air and swung around the fire escape ladder, “Weeeeee!”

Damian followed her, pointing his sword tip at her chest. “Stop,” he said, “What are you planning?”

“Well, I’m planning to go sneak up to that window up there so I can look in and see what Matty and Jenny have going on,” She said, “Wanna join--OH!”

Damian pressed his sword up to her neck. “Cut the games,” He said, “You’re up to something, I know it. So tell me.”

Commedia sighed, giving in. “Matthew doesn’t want to get married.”

“I...what?” Damian said, confused.

“Matthew Crenshaw, the guy up there,” Commedia said, “He’s a nice guy, and he cares for his girlfriend Jenny, sure. But she’s been pressuring him about getting married, even though he doesn’t really like the idea of getting married. He’s talked himself into saying that he needs the perfect ring, but when he bought it, he decided he couldn’t afford it, and gave it back. So, I got it for him.”

Damian’s scowl only deepened as she kept talking. “Who’s he to you?”

She tilted her head, confused. “He cold called me to try and offer me a deal on car insurance.”

Damian put down the sword. He just. She said it so sincerely. “Who ARE you?” He demanded, now out of confusion more than anger.

She smiled brightly once more. “Why, I’m Commedia! The hero clown, the dancing--”

“Yeah, you said all that before, but like,” He sighed, “Why?”

Commedia’s smile fell down to something simple and kind. She offered a hand to him.

Hesitant, curious, and just...confused, he took it.

She led him to the other window, where they saw Jenny walking through the door. She gasped and ran to Matthew. “Oh, Matt! Matt, yes! Yes, I do, I do, I never thought this day would come! Oh gosh, I gotta call my mom, I’ve got a few dresses all picked out. You’ll see, it’ll be a huge party with everyone we know and-”

“Jenny,” he said, “Jenny wait, I...you know I don’t...I’m not comfortable with crowds and...and I don’t--

“But it’s MY DAY!” Jenny wailed, “You wouldn’t take MY day from me, would you?”

“C’mon,” Commedia muttered.

“Please, Jen,” Matt continued, “Look it’s just...if, if we did get married, shouldn’t--wouldn’t it be my day too?”

“Oh come ON, Matt,” Jenny said, walking to the counter, “We both know I’m the one who knows what’s best for you. It’ll be good! You’ll finally get to shine, and if you don’t like it, you’ll have ME there to take the rest of the spotlight!”

Matt’s hands balled into fists, and his face set, “No.”

“What?” Jenny said, incredulous.

“I’ve had it! I’m tired of-of you telling me what I like and what I don’t!” his lip trembled as he stood up. “I knew I was hesitant, but I didn’t know why! Now I see it’s becasue I didn’t want you in the rest of my life!”

“Hey now,” Jenny said, “Matt, calm down--”

“Get out of my house!” Matt went to the open window Commedia left behind and tossed out the ring.

“Whoopsies,” Commedia said and dropped away. Damian, confused, dropped down after her.

She picked the ring up from the ground and held it out to Damian. “I trust you can get this back to the jewelry store.”

“So, all of that…” he said, “was to help a guy get out of a bad relationship? That you barely knew?”

“He sounded sad on the phone,” Commedia said, “Made me curious.”

Damian scoffed, staring at her. “Who ARE you?”

She chuckled. “My guess is you’ll find out sooner or later,” she said, “So I’ll pick later, for now. But I’m sure I’ll see you again soon, Blackbird.”

She took out another flower. This one shot off into the distance like a grappling hook, and pulled her twirling into the night.

Damian could have followed her, maybe. But, holding the ring in his hands, he didn’t see much need to.

Across town, Batman was called to a bank robbery in the middle of the night. Inside, however, he didn’t find the vault broken in, and nothing stolen, other than a number of complimentary lollipops. “You know there are easier ways to get my attention.”

“Aw, Come on Bats!” Harley said, swinging from the ceiling with one of the lollipops in her mouth, “Ain’t this a classic? Brings me back to the old days.”

“Oh, you’ve stopped doing crime then?” He said, leaning back and looking up at her, “News to me.”

Harley flipped down in front of him. “Batsy, you know I’m tryin’! I do good, is it a crime to have a little fun while I do it?”

“If you hurt people, yes.” Batman said.

Harley deflated. “I haven’t done that in a while now. I’m goin through some life changes.”

Batman hummed, staring down at her. “I’m guessing this is about the small clown that has been reported around town recently doing strange acts of minor crimes to help people?”

Harley brightened again, balancing on the teller counter. “She’s my new apprentice! A bit of a goody-two-shoes, but I’m doing my best to train her.” She did a handstand, “I came to ask for some advice at raising child soldiers, considering you have so much experience.”

Batman always scowled, but it seemed his scowl deepened on that. “I help some people come to terms with terrible things that have happened to them, and teach them to be a force of good in the world instead of falling to the world’s darkness.” He thought back on his children, “It doesn’t always work.”

Harley laughed, “No kidding,” she said. She sighed, thinking. “To be honest, Commedia is already pretty good. I can’t claim credit for that.” She rocked back and forth, feeling uneasy.

Batman approached, slow so as not to scare her. “Well, we both know she didn’t get it from her father.”

Her face was already white, but she blanched further. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, “She’s my niece, she ran from home so I’m taking care of her and-”

“Harley,” Batman stopped her rambling, “I’m a detective, remember?”

She frowned, shaking at him. “He doesn’t know,” she said, “No one knows, she...she’s never met him and I don’t want her to I--”

Batman held up his hands, stopping her again. “I know,” he said, “I understand, really. And I’ll help.”

She blinked up at him, smiling. “Really?”

Batman nodded. “I’ll help you protect her. As for advice....if you ever figure out a perfect way to raise masked vigilantes, let me know. I mostly just do the best I can, and make sure they can do a proper spin-kick if they need to.”

Harley snorted. “I’ll make a note of that.” She grabbed the box of free lollies on the counter, “I am going to be robbing these though, and you can’t stop me.”

She headed for the back entrance and away. “Harley,” Batman called her again, and she froze, “The year you were gone, when you disappeared and suddenly your sister had a child she wasn’t pregnant with. I want you to know, I noticed.”

Harley smiled, turning, “Thanks Bats-” When she turned, he was gone. “And people call me a drama queen.”

[amerrierworld]

Supposed To Be

Ocean’s 8 fanfiction

request: the reader finds out what Tammy does at party with the girls and maybe gets angry at Tammy for not telling her and lying to her. Then hets angry at everyone else and they all fell guilty. And maybe tammy says something that’s losses the reader of more. Then the reader walking out. The next morning the reader is ignoring all the texts and calls from Tammy and the girls. Tammy going over to talk to her...

Summary: Tammy is planning something for you with the team, but can’t let you know about it.

Characters: Tammy x fem!reader, the Ocean’s girls, (divorced!Tammy)

Word Count: 2,550

Warnings: Angst angst angst angst angst angst!!!!!! Miscommunication!! Hurt & comfort! Eventual happy ending :)

You first started feeling uneasy when Tammy’s text responses went from excited paragraphs and emojis to one-word answers. It was such a simple thing, but you barely got to see her in person some weeks, and this was the only thing that kept you connected.

After an inevitable divorce, Tammy moved to the city to be closer with the entire group, sharing custody of her children every other week. It had been stressful, but you had been there for her every step of the way, and a fruitful, happy romance had blossomed.

But now, even after all those months, there was a sudden barrier you couldn’t seem to get through. Her phone calls were hasty, her texts short, and no one else in the group seemed concerned like you were. You got no updates on her kids, which usually she couldn’t stop taking about. Frankly, it felt like she had gotten tired of you.

So, you shut your phone off and went out for the rest of the day, window-shopping and wandering around the city to get your fuming mind off of things. 

-

On the other side of the city, in Lou’s spacious loft, Tammy had gathered the other ladies, vigorously typing lists on her phone as she paced back and forth.

“Really, Tam, you’re overthinking this! Why do you feel the need to go through all this?” Lou sighed, swirling her glass of rye. 

“Because it has to be just right,” Tammy snapped back. 

Everyone knew how detail-oriented and perfectionist Tammy was. It was a life-saver for criminal activity and ensured safety for the gang to get through undetected. But sometimes, in ordinary life, it was a bit overkill.

“I really don’t think Y/N needs all this, babe,” Nineball added, lounging in a large, velvety bean bag and a joint between her lips. “Lou’s right, you’re overthinking it.”

“Listen, she’s my girlfriend, and this is my plan. Can you please just be a little bit supportive of this?” Tammy threw her hands up, exasperated. 

“Her birthday isn’t for another month,” Debbie pointed out.

“Exactly, I’m already running behind!”

The remaining seven shared a few bemused glances before Daphne handed Tammy a glass of wine to calm down. Debbie sighed, pulled up a chair and reached for the snack bowl.

“Alright, what’s the plan, TamTam?”

-

You still had one of Lou’s door keys from the last heist, and figured it was the best time to return it. It was starting to get late, and it was a bit of a walk, but you didn’t mind. The fresh air did good for your nerves and bad mood. 

You hadn’t seen Lou in ages either, so you figured a quick catch-up was needed too. Not even thinking, you used the key to let yourself in, washed over by warm light coming from inside, and-

Laughter? Music?

You froze. The first person you saw, of course, was Tammy. Your eyes were drawn to her in any room, always. She was laughing, nursing a drink in her hand, chatting with Lou and Debbie, who looked equally as pleased.

There was popcorn popping in the microwave, and the TV was showing a movie. Your heart sank little by little, as you realized that yes, they really had gotten tired of you. You didn’t register the pile of paper and notes on the coffee table, at all.

Lou saw you first, and went a little pale. She registered the keys in your hands were hers, and it clicked in her brain why you were there. She nudged Debbie, who immediately turned off the music, as if they’d been caught doing something illegal.

Then Tammy turned her head and saw you, her beautiful smile fading away instantly. Her mouth hung open a little, as if she didn’t know what to make of you standing there, in the flesh.

Suddenly your confusion melted into anger, and your heart broke little by little as they stood there, staring at you, not even bothering to say anything.

You tossed the keys to the floor, turned around, and slammed the front door shut. 

-

No one was moving. Tammy’s brain was lagging, still trying to register why you  looked so distraught, so betrayed. The rest of the group eyed her shyly. Constance had a mouth full of popcorn that she was afraid to chew down on because of how loud it would be in the silence.

“You fucking idiot,” Rose was the first to speak up- Tammy was shocked to hear her swear. “What’re you doing jus’ standing there? Get out and go after her!”

“Yeah,” Amita said, “she didn’t look too happy when seeing all of us.”

“Did you tell her where you would be today, Tam?” Debbie questioned her, looking her squarely in the eye. Tammy bit her lip, and shook her head. Cue a collective frustrated groan. 

“Tammy, we love you, but you can be so stupid sometimes,” Lou said, grabbing her glass from her. “Go on!”

Tammy nearly stumbled over her heels as she hurried after you, fearing she wouldn’t be able to find you in the dark.

“Y/N?” she called out, frantically looking out as the door closed behind her. She  spun around, looking left and right. “Y/N!”

“Stop yelling,” you snapped. She turned and saw you leaning against a streetlamp, face washed in eerie light. 

“You’re still here,” she said, relieved.

“No, I’m just waiting for a cab,” you said, not meeting her gaze. “You should go back to your party.”

“Do you want to come inside?” she asked you, wringing her hands.

“No, thanks,” you said, shoving your hands deep in your pockets. “I wasn’t invited, so.”

“Oh, Y/N, I didn’t mean to-,”

“No, no, you clearly did,” you shook your head, interrupting her. “It’s fine, really. But next time you get sick of me, have the fucking courtesy to actually break up with me, please?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re barely answering any of my texts, and every time we talk you’re miles away. And now you’re throwing a party with the whole team, except for me. What gives?”

“It’s not what you think!”

“What the hell am I supposed to think, then? Do you even realize what the past few weeks have been like for me? Jesus, Tammy, I’ve been worried sick.”

Tammy didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to lose you, she knew she couldn’t lose you, but to explain the plans and explain everything she’d prepared would ruin so, so much.

“Y/N, I love you with my entire heart. I can explain, I promise.”

“No, forget it,” a cab pulled up to the sidewalk and you yanked open the door. “Come back when you’ve made up your mind, I guess. Unless it’s something I don’t want to hear. Bye, Tammy.”

With that, the cab sped away, and you left a stunned Tammy standing on the sidewalk.

-

It was nearly two weeks later. You didn’t know how on earth you got this far without talking to Tammy at all, but you figured you made it clear where you stood. If she never talked to you again, you understood the message, and you were through.

A bit overdramatic, maybe, you wondered? If it was, you weren’t prepared to be the first one to cave. You wouldn’t go begging and crawling back to her. You were too stubborn and proud- even with the constant crying over the past few days.

You were sitting at a bar, drinking a sweet and fruity drink while watching some mindless sports game on the monitor when a familiar blonde slid into the seat next to you.

“Go away,” you said, not looking at Lou. She  waved her hand, and the bartender set to work on a drink for her.

“Good evening to you too, sweetheart,” she said. 

“What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing. This is my bar after all,” she received her drink and took a big gulp, leaning forward on the bar and looking over at you.

“No it isn’t,” you frowned, trying to piece your memory together. “Your club is dozens of blocks from here.”

“Yeah, and then I bought almost every bar and club on this side of the city. You’re looking at one rich-ass owner, Y/N.” Lou grinned, but you couldn’t be bothered to return the smile.

“Well, congrats Lou. No need to rub it in. Some of us are meant to just be broke.”

“Since when did you become such a downer?”

“Uh, since my girlfriend decided her life was better off without me?” you scoffed.

“Is that really what she said to you?” Lou asked, blue eyes piercing. You shifted in your seat.

“Not exactly, but I know when people are tired of me,” you muttered. “Walking in on the whole team who went through hell together having a party without me kinda sends a clear message.”

Lou chewed her lip, and sighed. She pushed the empty glass away from her and took her time to unwrap a stick of gum. 

It was quiet between the two of you as she got up and straightened her jacket, flicking her bleach blonde hair away from her eyes.

“It wasn’t a party, Y/N,” she said. “Talk to Tammy. She’s been absolute shit the past week.”

You bristled, not wanting to think about Tammy again. But Lou left you to it, paying for your drink, and headed out the door. You rubbed your face, tired, and lonely, and cursing yourself for letting it get this far. 

Hesitantly, you took out your phone, reading the ‘six new voicemails’ notification, and lingering your finger over the green listening button. All from Tammy. 

“Hey, Y/N. Giving me a taste of my own medicine, huh?” A weak laugh. “I’m sorry for not responding or talking more with you.. you have every right to be angry.”

You got up and headed home slowly, going through each voicemail carefully, listening at least twice.

“God I don’t even know where to start. It’s been so... empty without you. Please call me soon? There’s so much I want to tell you.”

Turning multiple corners, you put on your sunglasses, hoping it would hide the tears threatening to spill over. 

“I feel terrible. And the girls are mad at me for letting you get away. Not-not like you ran away, but- but not fighting for you, you know? For such a stupid, stupid reason too. I, uh, hm... I miss you.”

I miss you. You stared at your front door, listening as the voicemail ended, frozen. You were mere steps from getting inside, but there was something in the way.

Tammy looked over her shoulder, standing on your doorstep, and you nearly burst into tears all over again. She was startled just like you were, surprised to see you there.

Your arm dropped limply to your side, voicemail forgotten, and you took a shaky breath,

“I miss you too.”

-

You sat across each other awkwardly. You offered her a cup of tea, she politely declined. Tammy was carrying a large tote bag with things inside, and you were intrigued, but didn’t make any effort to start the conversation. You would remain stoic, and not cave. No matter how beautiful she looked, how rosy her cheeks were, how done up her hair was. But there were giant bags under her eyes that you could not ignore, and something pulled at your heartstrings. 

“You look well,” Tammy said, smiling weakly.

“No I don't,” you replied. Her face fell. “Neither do you.” Ouch. 

“Crazy what only two weeks can do to a person, right?” she chuckled hoarsely.

She continued, “I realize that... that I didn’t handle things very well, with how it ended.. on the sidewalk that night.”

“Hmm.”

Her fingers were shaking, and your resolve nearly crumbled. She reached into the bag and grabbed a massive binder, nearly bursting with the amount of pages. Your name was written in thick letters on the front. 

“This is why I wasn’t talking to you,” she muttered, bashfully. “And I realized that keeping this a secret from you isn’t worth the risk of losing you.. like, actually losing you and never getting to have you in my life again.”

Your mouth fell open as you turned to the first page. It was one of those massive wedding planner books that some young girls like to have when dreaming of their future wedding. 

Only it was for your birthday. Lists and lists of your favourite music, your favourite foods, restaurants, colours and clothes. Plans for venues, DJs, special outings and reservations. Plans for each member of the team to take care of little things; drinks, dances, meals, performers...

“Oh my god,” you whispered.

“It was going to be your first birthday with the two of us really together. It was supposed to be a surprise... perfect and special. I guess I went a little over the top..” she rubbed her neck with her hand and blushed.

“Tammy... oh my god,” you kept saying, with every new page, and new intricate lists and ideas. “Oh my god.”

“This is incredible,” you breathed, tears falling freely now. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“No no, I should be the one apologizing,” Tammy replied firmly. “I should have told you.”

“But then it wouldn’t have been a surprise! Oh my god, I should have been more trusting in you,” you cried softly. “Tammy, oh, god. Tammy, I love you so much.”

Every detail was spot-on. She knew you inside and out, like no one else ever  knew you. No one had ever cared so deeply for you, to think so deeply for you. 

Now Tammy was crying too, and you were two blubbering messes, clasping hands across the table and spilling tears on the pages. Thankfully, they were laminated.

“I’ve scrapped it all,” Tammy confessed. 

Your head snapped up, “What?”

“Well, when I say scrapped.. I rescheduled it for next year.. I didn’t think that you would want this anymore. Not after what I did.”

“Debbie thought it a good idea to just move it to next year, in case you still wanted it, and.. well, in case you and I are still...” she cleared her throat, face red, not wanting to finish her sentence for fear of jinxing it.

You pushed your chair back and walked over to her, cupping her face and kissing her sweetly. She melted in your touch.

“Of course I’ll still want it,” you said, brushing her mouth with your lips. “I want you.”

“So-, are- are we o-okay?”  Tammy’s breath hitched with increasing sobs and you kissed her, again and again.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you laughed, kissing her tears away. “I don’t want anything except you.”

“Good,” Tammy giggled, “because I don’t think I had anymore energy to finish these plans.”

“When did you start making this?”

“About a month ago.”

“Oh, Tammy, my God,” you threw your head back, understanding why she had gotten so distanced now. “You can’t possibly think all of that-” gesturing to the thick book, “would be possible to plan in just a few weeks right? Not with your perfectionist habits, at least.”

“Hey,” Tammy warned, but her eyes were twinkling. 

“Plus, I love every single detail you put in there, I swear, but I don’t need anything except you and the people we love on my birthday. Seriously.”

“Good, because that’s exactly what Lou offered after she slapped some sense into me,” Tammy confessed. “A party at her loft or one of her clubs? And then.. cake?”

“Yes!” you clapped your hands. “Our friends, and cake.”

You slid forward to sit in Tammy’s lap and pressed your warm face in her neck, kissing her there and hugging her closely.

“That’s all I need,” you murmured. “That’s how it’s supposed to be.”

Tammy let out another sob, wrapping her arms around you tightly and kissing the side of your head, nuzzling your hair without abandon. 

A/N: A bit longer than usual but I wanted to do the lovely request justice :D Miscommunication is such a bitch... especially when it doesn’t work out, but in this fiction land it does!! We love soft!Tammy~

[cozyforjate]

MacGyver 5x03-Review

MacRiley fam, this will be my last MacGyver review. Thanks for the support and the great feedback on my reviews so far. You guys are awesome! But i’m taking a looong break from this show. I’ll be watching the Jack episode and if we get a Bozer, Matty or Riley centric i’ll tune in to watch. But my passion and excitement for this show is mostly over now.

I have so many things to say about 5x03 but if i start to express all my feelings i’m afraid i might break Tumblr. LOL 

This probably wouldn’t feel like a proper review coz i’m gonna focus on the RETCON that the writers pulled out of their asses to keep MacDesi together.

Ok so for people who are not familiar with the word “retcon”; it means changing an aspect of a fictional work by introducing a piece of new information, typically used to facilitate a dramatic plot shift or account for an inconsistency.

The writers usually pull a retcon, when one aspect of an already canon plot isn’t working well. You can call it a “fix-it” method.

In terms of MacDesi, they retconned some moments from season 4 that defined this relationship. I think the new showrunner and the writers team realized that MacDesi has become quite “toxic” during season 4. But because the additional episodes kept them together, they needed to at least fix this relationship.

From their POV it’s understandable to a degree. But from a viewers POV it’s total BS. Because what we watched in season 4, can’t be changed.

We remember the unhealthy dynamic between them, we remember the lack of trust between them, we remember how incompatible they were, we remember how they couldn’t communicate with each other, we remember Mac not letting her in emotionally, not opening up to her at all, we remember how much they BOTH hurt each other, we remember Mac’s own words on their relationship.

Most importantly we still remember 4x12. How quickly Desi turned her back on him, how she brought his mothers and aunts names into their ugly fight, how Mac said he’d say anything to get her off his back, we remember how she and Russ left Mac no choice but to improvise a plan to save lives, we remember Riley risking everything to protect him and be there for him. WE REMEMBER.

So when you dismiss all of that and re-write MacDesi as if they’re this great couple, it’s not going to work for people. And when you tease MacRiley the whole week with promos, exclusive pictures, articles, SM promotion; promising progress between Mac and Riley only to walk over everything that made them special, you get a lot of NEGATIVE reaction from the fans. With good reason.

* * *

Episode started with Mac and Riley on a picnic mission. The scene was amazing in every sense. The colors, lighting, the conversation between them, the almost kiss, the way Mac held Riley and they lied down for a while, the smug smile on his face and the looks he gave to Riley were all awesome! The car chase was super fun too!

But then everything went down the toilet. Coz in the next scene Mac was complaining to Bozer about how Desi wasn’t spending time with him and avoiding his date attempts. In this scene they retconned Bozer too. For the first time, Bozer encouraged Mac to go ask Desi out and fix their relationship.

Normally Bozer would never do such a thing. Why? Bcoz he’s been against a romantic relationship between them ever since Desi first showed up in 3x14. Bozer thought it was a bad idea from the start, called them Mesi (messy), he didn’t think it was a good idea to bring Desi back on the team in 4x01, coz MD break up was NUCLEAR. So up until 5x03 Bozer was never on Team MacDesi. Lets also remember this exchange between them:

In 4x12 when Bozer was trying to save Mac and Riley’s lives, he turns to Desi... 

Bozer: Desi, back me up here.

Desi: Sometimes we need to sacrifice the things we love for the greater good.

So after 4x12, one would only expect that his thoughts on MD would get stronger. But guess what? Bozer is now supporting MD. Just like that. I don’t buy it writers, sorry.

Back to the scene… Mac wants to go on a date with Desi. And he is so desperate about it. We had to witness one of the most awkward scenes between them. Not only that but we had to sit through Riley throwing smiles at MD, saying her feelings for Mac was just Codex adrenaline. Riley, who couldn’t watch any interaction between MD, is now totally cool with them!

And lets just say that Riley was pretending she’s over Mac, that she lied to Bozer bcoz she’s trying to move on. We already watched her having feelings for Mac, hiding those feelings and pining for him. Her one-sided love can’t drive the plot anymore. 

Besides she didn’t need to give her blessings to MD. It was an overkill. I really hated the scene where she says “Don’t screw up this time” to Mac…That was totally out of character for Riley.  

Riley who reminded Desi that Russ & her were gonna nuke them,

Riley who said she went after Mac coz she trusted him &asked Desi "Why didn't you?",

Riley who risked it all to protect Mac, tells Mac not to screw it up with Desi.

By saying those words, Riley makes it known that Mac was the one screwing up his rl with Desi. Desi had no fault. Once again the writers used my favorite character to prop my least favorite character. Shame on you!

***

I’m not gonna talk about every MacDesi scene in this episode. But let me just say that the writers turned Mac into a desperate, begging, lovesick puppy. He asked Desi for a date like 5 times, apologized twice. Kissed her out of the blue. Bcoz lets face it, that scene was so unnecessary. Nobody was onto them, the police car was passing by slowly and if the police were really suspicious, why would they look at the couple kissing instead of checking who’s in the car? So stupid. Oh and while they were kissing for minutes with great lighting and all, General Ma escaped. Mac acting this stupid, is not something we are used to see. But what you gonna do? I guess love is not only blind but also destroyes brain cells in the process.

Anyway, Mac literally begging Desi to go on a date with him was agonizing to watch. Every time he offers a new dating idea, Desi’s answer is NAH. Back in the picnic scene she made it sound like she wanted to date Mac, but of course she needs to make him suffer first!

I only like to point out the scene where Mac –finally- opened up to Desi about the fishing trip he and his father went together. This story is obviously precious to him. He called it a happy memory. Clearly he misses his father, still mourning for his loss. So he shared his happy memory and asked if she would like to go fishing with him. Desi’s answer? “Not gonna go fishing with you as our first date!” You can read the dissapointment on his face. And my heart breaks for Mac but this kind of treatment is something he’s asking for.

He is desperate to get Desi back. The fact that they are the worst match ever, doesn’t change sh*t. Mac wants Desi and he loves Desi for god knows why.

***

Btw- the whole “lets blame only Mac for Codex and ignore Desi’s wrongdoings” plot is disgusting. Yes, Mac suffocating Desi and Russ to escape Phoenix with Scarlett was wrong. Yes he hurt her, yes in a sense he betrayed her. AND HE APOLOGIZED. But what about Desi? What about her betrayel? 

First they made Riley apologize to Desi for following Mac and now they made Mac apologize… But no apologies from Desi. The writers are obviously worshipping Desi and they’re ready to sacrifice every character to make her look “perfect”. I’m sorry but i’m not here to watch the Desi show, or more MacDesi nonsense.

***

Mac said Desi is the woman he loves… but not only that, she is also the woman who guided him back. And the RETCON is really strong with this scene.

Lets remember…

In 4x08 Mac loses his father, at the end of the episode Desi wants to go with Mac but Mac stops her, telling he’d see her tomorrow.

In 4x09 Desi says he can share his burden with her, Mac’s not interested, he says what he needs is to stop Codex.

In 4x10 Mac makes apocalypse kits for Riley and Desi. Desi’s so happy she got a crossbow and didn’t think those kits were a bad sign. But Riley notices that Mac is not in a good place, he needed help and support. Riley shares her concerns about Mac with Desi. She probably thinks it’s not up to her to be the one doing that when Desi is the girlfriend. So after her conversation with Riley, Desi makes soup and gives Mac a compass. Saying he’s not lost (he clearly was tho). She askes if everything’s ok, he looks different but Mac says, he’s just tired.

In 4x12 Mac is lying in bed, lost in his own mind, he gets up, leaves the compass on her side of the nightstand… On the run he ignores Desi’s calls.

Then things get really ugly for MacDesi. Desi says “You are so drunk on somescrewed-up cocktail of your mom, your aunt, Codex science...”… She says “You're compromised”…  Mac was just trying to get Scarlett on their side to stop Codex but Desi couldn’t see it. She thought Mac was losing it!

And then Desi sides with Russ and turns her back on Mac. Russ dismisses Mac from the Codex mission. Mac's forced to improvise. Bcoz he wants to stop Codex without bloodshed.

So as you can see they completely re-wrote the events of 4x12 to fix MD.

Desi says: “I had front-row seats to the war that raged in you last year, and I can't do that again. Lose you.”

She was ready to sacrifice him for the greater good. But yeah, sure! Why not.

Mac says: “Des, I know it looked like I was lost, but you were there the whole time, guiding me back home.”

THE WHOLE TIME.

In 3 times she “tried” to be there for him, Mac didn't let her in emotionally but lets just say that she brought him back to his senses.

Lets just say that the compass he left on her side of the nightstand represents that it guided him back. (btw lets also ignore that the compass Mac gave Desi back was a different one. Who knows, maybe he threw it in the garbage during the pandemic and bought a new one)

Lets just forget who really brought him back. Lets just ignore what Riley did for Mac. How she saved him, how she was the one who risked everything for Mac. How she was the one there by his side when they were facing a missile.

Only if we forget and retcon history we can all buy MacDesi. 

But i can’t… I can’t forget, i’m not ok with a retconned half-ass love story that they want to sell with MD. I can’t sit through the episodes and keep watching the “flawless Desi” show.

This show isn’t entertaining to me anymore. I can’t recognize Mac, i’m pissed that my fav characters are being used as tools to prop Desi.

One last thing before i say my final goodbyes:

The lighting in this episode was so weird. In almost every scene, heavy light effects distracted me. Usually they use it when they show you a flashback, a dream or a hallucination to seperate the real-time scenes from others. But this episode had them from the start to the end. So i don’t know what to make of this.

Some of the dialogues had subtexts…

Leland to Russ: Now, I know you don't care about much in this world, but even the best of us can be blinded by those we love.

General Ma to Mac: I was blinded by him (Leland) once. I-I won't be blinded again.

Mac: Many things blind us. Anger, betrayal, even love. But sometimes, a little blindness can work to your advantage. You can create a fog that will cause the world around you to disappear.

Normally i would dive deep into the subtextland. But i don’t think the writers were trying to give some deep message or anything. 

I do believe that Mac is totally blinded by his “idea” of love… But i’m done waiting for him to open his eyes. The Mac i watched in this episode is not My Mac.

Writers made their choice. They made Mac's feelings crystal clear. He's all about Desi. At this point, Desi breaking up with him would mean nothing to me. Just like Riley still having feelings for Mac means nothing anymore.

Official accounts tweeting “There’s more to come for MacRiley” means nothing to me anymore.

Noone wants a rebound plot but unfortunately it's the only possibility they left to MacRiley. My ship is tainted forever. 

And as a Riley stan, i don’t want this Mac with my girl. She deserves better.

[jo-the-schmo]

Red, Dead, Reflections Ch. 1

A/N: Alright so... I started writing this fic over a year ago, and was posting it as I wrote it. I fell out of it for a few reasons but I’ve missed it. So I decided to start writing it again. The original versions of the first 5 chapters already exist on my blog but I want to repost them and do some editing. This way I can make the series more polished. I also want to try and do a once a week maybe schedule to give me some time in between writing chapters and so I can take some feedback into consideration.I hope some of the people who originally wanted to keep up with my series see this and I want to apologize for falling back on this. I feel really bad about it. I’ll try harder to commit to this. Thank you so much for being interested in my work. If anyone would like to be tagged just let me know, I don’t wanna assume the people who did before want to now. 

Summary: At the age of 23, you and your pseudo-family perform a heist gone wrong, leading you into a dangerous and seemingly impossible position. Discover your own history, the story of those around you, and gain new relationships along the way in this (sorta) choose your own adventure.

Warnings: Explicit language, blood, death, violence

Word count: 5,988

From Out West

“This is a little too ballsy for my liking, Austin.” You warned as you carefully adjusted the colored contact lenses in your eyes.

“Since when did you turn into a little pussy-willow?” He smirked at you while he turned a corner. 

“This is a bank, not a home robbery, so forgive me if I’m a tad nervous about this! We’re robbing a god damn bank in the 21st century, in a busy city that we aren’t necessarily familiar with!”

“Maybe you aren’t familiar, you know I’m a regular ol’LA boy.” You turned your head to look at the two in the backseat.

“Miguel, you can’t seriously be okay with this.” You questioned but were confident in it enough to make it a statement. He shrugged his shoulders, making that confidence literally evaporate. 

“We gotta trust Austin, as crazy as this plan is. We haven’t gotten caught yet.” You crossed you arms and made sure your wig was pinned right.

“Doesn’t mean we won’t be startin’ now.” You grumbled. 

“Come on, sissy! This plan is fool-proof! They’ll never even know it was us!” Eli chirped. 

“Oh yeah, except for the fact that this is a fucking bank and the FBI CAN get on our asses for this!” You swore it was exhausting being the only realistic one sometimes. “On top of that, there’s only 5 of us! We’re insane!” 

“6.” Austin corrected. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Your girlfriend won’t be in the damn room with us.” 

“She’s the ace up our sleeves, it would be silly for her to be in there with us.” The car smelled like old cigarettes, it made you sick. The band around your chest dug into your ribs. You opted to stay silent and relent for the time being, instead focusing on your disguise. The wig was carefully pinned to your real hair, it was short enough to be confused for a men’s haircut but had enough length to not require any glue. Dark brown hair, abnormally vibrant green eyes. And with the mask covering your face, that would be their only descriptions they could give to the police. Flat chest, boyish haircut, baggy black hoodie, just your average deviant. The destination was in view. 

“Alright,” Austin started. “everyone knows the plan, yeah? Gina is inside, she’ll send us the signal. We go in quick and make our presence known. I go behind the counter to make sure the tellers ain’t up to no funny shit. Miguel, you round up the lovely citizens into a corner, hit Gina a little to make it convincing. Eli, you take care of the money. And Y/N, I need you to stay in character, be loud and intimidating, keep the tellers in check when I’m helpin’ Eli, and the civils with Miguel, got it?” You all nodded. He looked back at Miguel. “You got the fake bomb ready?”

“Yes’ir.” 

“I’ll pass the big boss to you once I pick him out. Zoe is waiting for us in the alleyway between the bank and the office building. We get in, make some noise, scare them shitless, get the money, and go.” He parked up front of the white walls, you saw a mother walk through the glass doors with her toddler in a stroller. You immediately felt bad. 

“You promise this is the last job, right?” You looked at him seriously. “At least the last of something this big, I don’t think I could handle with again.”

“Of course! This is just to get us enough money to get us all out. The economy is garbage, think of it as taking what should already be ours.” You heard the crackle of the walkie on Austin’s lap. He threw it into his bag. “That’s the signal, masks on everyone.” Austin’s was a fox, long, fake salt and pepper hair rolled form under his hood. Eli’s was a raccoon, convincing copper bangs swooped between the ears. Miguel had an owl; disturbing blue eyes pierced your being. You strapped on your black dove and joined with group as they exited the stolen vehicle. You kept both your hands in the front pocket of your hoodie, trying to be discrete about the two handguns inside. Only one was loaded with real bullets, that was the backup, You preferred to use the blanks. Unable to trace, and when used properly, won’t hurt anyone. Austin and Eli took the leads. 

The doors were kicked in. 

“EVERYONE GET ON THE FUCKING GROUND RIGHT NOW! HANDS UP, ALL YOU! THIS IS A ROBBERY!” He screamed, pointing his gun at a man behind the counter about 3 yards away. Miguel was quick to shout at the people in line to get into the corner of the room. Gina pretended to try and defy, he slaps her, needless to say it’s convincing. 

“Dove, handle the worms.” You traded spots as Austin grabbed one of the men behind the counter. Your eyes locked with the poor woman, she was covering the stroller with her torso. You pointed your blank gun at some random person. 

“Stay on the ground or I’ll fucking shoot, ya hear me?” You lowered your voice, made it coarser, time to be a ‘man’. They nodded hysterically. The woman was crying. You could hear Eli screaming his demands in a fake accent. “Everyone hand over your phones. If any of you give me a reason to even SUSPECT you’re up to anything, I will shoot.” Everyone put their phones on the ground and slid them over toward you. You turned your attention to the back. “What’s the hold up, owl?” 

“I’m handling it.” He strapped the fake bomb to the teller’s chest, making him kneel down in the middle of the bank. “Listen up, everyone! This man has a bomb attached to his body. We have someone hacked into the security cameras. If you don’t follow our instructions to the T, they will blow a hole in this lot.” He paused to let the cries and gasps die out. “Now, for those said instructions, listen close. We will exit the building soon, you will stay down for 5 minutes.” He pointed at a clock on the wall. “Do not touch anything or move a muscle. When 5 minutes have passed, the big guy here-“ He patted the man’s shoulders and dropped a key wrapped in tissue in his lap. “will take a little drive off the premises. He will keep going until he reaches the designated location written on that tissue. If any of you contact the police before the end of the day, he will die, along with any other drivers in his vicinity. So, unless you want a substantial amount of blood on your hands, I’d suggest you keep quiet until midnight. As for the rest of you, you have permission to leave the building once that 5 minutes are up. But I would suggest keeping a low profile, for your safety and others’.” There was a loud crack. 

“I got it!” The phony Australian accent rang. Austin led the rest of the bank tellers to you, making them sit in the flood of civils. 

“Staying alert, Dove?”

“Don’t patronize me, stupid Fox.” This whole situation pissed you off. The baby was crying, mom was too, trying to hush the whines. 

“Fire a shot, Dove!” What? “Don’t let their insubordination stand.” He demanded. This was a fear tactic. He was trying to teach a lesson to the others. 

“I’m not firing a warning shot over a fucking baby, you psycho!” Your blood was boiling, this was overkill, he was way out of line with this. Of course, he wasn’t telling you to shoot the baby or the mother, but you weren’t going to cause more grief where it didn’t need to be. 

“Take the shot!”

“Fuck you!” 

“Why are you going against me?” Was he seriously doing this now? You felt like your head was going to explode. She was the only person with a child present. You put both of your pieces back in your hoodie and knelt next to her. She flinched as you approached, but that was to be expected. 

“Ma’am, I’m making an exception for you because you have a child with you, and that prick is really getting on my last nerve. You’re allowed to exit the building now, but the other rules still apply. People will die if you talk, maybe not you, but other people who have children like you do, most certainly. Take your kid and get out, don’t do anything out of the ordinary, and get out.” Her red eyes shook you to your core, familiarity. She nodded in both fear and appreciation. 

“Than-than-thank y-“ She was choking on her own misfortune, you decided to spare her. 

“Yeah, yeah, just get out.” She got up and collected herself, checking around the room as she walked out of the building. You could only see his eyes, but you could tell Austin was reaching his limit fast. An older gentleman stared at you. 

“At least one of you has a heart.” You were glad Austin was too focused on being pissed to hear that. You got up, kicking the phones toward the door as you walked. Austin grabbed you arm. 

“You’re lucky I didn’t kill her for that.” By letting that woman go, you showed weakness. It was a hint at your identities, but you didn’t care. 

“And you’re lucky I’m not shooting you for saying that. I’m not a killer like you, Fox.” Your voice was laced with venom. Eli had interrupted your dispute. 

“Alright lovebirds, time to play nice, we’ve got precious cargo.” He gave both of you a duffle bag, they were pretty hefty. Austin took a deep breath, putting on his best showman voice. 

“Alright folks! That right there is our cue to hit the road. Remember, 5 minutes on the clock. No one likes a-“ The doors were filled with red and blue, sirens. The police were here. “Shit!” Shit was right. “How the hell are they here?” Austin screamed. He gave you a shove. “It’s probably because of that god damn woman!” 

“There’s no way she would’ve had enough time for that.”

“And no one had a phone out, I was watching the whole time.” Miguel chimed. 

“We have bigger fish to fry right now! We gotta go.” You all dashed over to the back door, all you had to do was move towards the alley, if you could just get to the dump van, everything would be fine. Drive up to get the real car, leave that one with no prints or hair, and you’d be home free. The 4 of you booked it out the door. But the van was no where to be seen, instead, there were about 3 cops on either side which was 6 in total, trapping you in. 

“They must’ve got Zoe!” Yeah, no shit. 

“Put your hands up!” You all raised your arms, except of course for Austin. You kicked his calf. He didn’t budge. “I said put your god damn hands up!”

“In case you didn’t notice, pal, there’s a bomb in that building. If you don’t let us pass, I’ll blow that building out of existence, along with the man attached to it.” He pointed his gun to one of the cops to your left. “So, I suggest you let us through, or else you’re gonna piss me off more than I already am.” 

“We know the bomb is fake, drop to your knees or we will shoot!” Another one barked. Someone had ratted you out. You looked at Miguel and Eli, you weren’t letting this go down, not by a long shot. You tuned out Austin’s ramblings and whispered to the other two. 

“Be ready to run. I’m gonna buy you guys some time. Don’t kill any of them, disarm them.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Y/N?” Miguel questioned with panic. You took a deep breath. 

“Thank you for being my family.” You swept your leg behind Austin’s knees, and he collapsed to the ground as you stood. 

The world slowed to a crawl, pulling a gun out of your pocket, these were real bullets. You’ve never missed a target. You drew the attention of all 6 police officers, but no amount of training could prepare them. You fired 3 shots, each one hitting the hands of the officers Austin had been talking to. Their weapons fell from their hands. You felt bodies push past your legs, down the alley way away from the bank. You were glad the streets of LA were confusing. Now was the time. You whipped your body around to face the rest of the officers, firing rapidly at their shins. You weren’t gonna put blood on your hands. 

But deep down you knew, there was no making out of this one. You would buy them a few minutes while trying to subdue you. Just as your haphazard shots began, they fired precise ones of their own. Two passed through your skull, three in your chest, and one got a through almost half of your jugular. Both pieces fell away from you as gravity swaddled you. Bits of your wooden mask, blood, head pushing back unnaturally, seeing the backs of your made family run, they were almost home free. There was no pain after that point, you waited patiently for your back to hit the ground beneath you, but it never did. You kept falling. 

And falling. 

The midday light felt like it was slipping away, there were leather walls encompassing your lifeless form. No sound, no sense of texture, just the smell of dirt and decay. Then there was nothing but darkness, but that void that beckoned you, that pulled at your very being, was gone just as quick as it appeared. 

Your body shot forward with a violent intake for air. The gasps filled your lungs to the brim, your chest and head ached, throat tight. The coughing erupted from deep in your chest, which also held a different pain from the ever-tightening band around it. You threw you hoodie away and made quick work of loosening it just a bit, and in doing so noticed that your body was free of any physical wounds. There was still a soreness, and blood wiped off your skin, but there were no open wounds. You were incredibly cold, and at first you assumed that to be attributed to your near-death experience, until you looked up high to see to see an open window with snow falling outside. 

“I don’t think we’re in California anymore.” You muttered to yourself. You shivered, the place was covered in hay and in low light, that’s when the smell hit you. It reeked of animals, that would probably have something to do with the fact that you’re in a barn. Shakily, you got to your feet. Knees wobbling, your eyes adjusted, there were horses. That certainly explained the stench. A chill ran up your spine, the cold tickling at your vertebrae. You scanned the room for where you had tossed your hoodie, only to find it in a horse’s mouth. Your eyes widened in fear. “No, no, no, no, no, no!” You exclaimed. You rushed forward and grasped at the hanging sleeve, tugging on it with all your strength. “Drop it! Drop it right now!” 

The horse did not listen, in fact, now it seemed more hellbent on consuming the thick material. After hurtling a few curses at the horse, you heard a distinct rip. You fell back, the remnants of black cloth now in tatters. You let out a muffled scream of frustration. Even with the long sleeves of your cotton shirt, you were still freezing. It suddenly struck you how odd it is for it to be snowing at all. You figured you weren’t in California anymore, but you were somewhere that snows in the middle of May? How far were you? You couldn’t think of any states that snowed this late in the year. Were you in Maine? Up north, Canada? How did you even get here? 

“Did those idiots come back to get me? I could’ve sworn…” You could’ve sworn they ran like you told them to, and that you had experienced several fatal injuries. Is this hell? Purgatory? The other side? It was cold enough to be Hell that’s for sure. Nothing made sense. You found your mask on the ground, chunks of the painted wood were replaced with vacant space, splintered bullet holes. You fastened it to the first belt loop, it rested against your left pant leg. Pins dug into your scalp, wigs still surprisingly attached to your head. Your eyes watered, your contacts were drying out. You opted take them out now rather than waste your time trying to find drops in a barn. You flicked them away once they were out. “Now, if there’s a barn with animals, there’s gotta be a house with people.” You walked over to the large wooden doors as your talked to yourself, but today just had to be the worst day of your life. Something landed on top of you, or more accurately someone. 

You were surprised you didn’t feel any cracks as the weight crashed on you. Shifting your weight over, you elbowed the man in the jaw. He rolled off of you with a grunt of pain. You were quick to jab him in the stomach with the toe of your boot. Sputtering a cough with saliva dripping out the mouth, the man rushed to stand. He was trying to fight. 

“You’re on the wrong side of the mountains, partn’r.” He slurred. “This here is O’Driscoll territory, Which you don’t got no business bein’ in.” I’m in the mountains? Where the hell- He didn’t give you enough time to finish that thought before he was throwing a punch at you. If this basic boy thinks he can step in my personal space, he’s got another thing coming. You blocked the fist with your forearm and redirected the force toward the ground. With the base of your wrist, you hit his throat. The force of your own strength and the ever so impeccable sense of gravity caused him to wheeze, choke, and writhe on the ground. 

“Listen here, buddy,” you pressed your boot down on his chest “I have no idea where the hell I am right now. I don’t give a single shit about territory or whatever the fuck you’re going on about, but if you put your hands on me again, I’m gonna mangle your entire lower half with a rake.” You applied more weight. “I didn’t come here of my own volition, someone put me here. Which means, you’re little punk ass better tell me what’s going on or get out of my way so I can-“ Gunshots. Mystery man took your distraction as an opportunity to wriggle out form under you. They were ceaseless, did someone drop you off in the middle of a gang war, what the hell is going on? You were about to duck behind whatever cover was around you if the idiot of the room had decided he didn’t learn his lesson. 

“Are you with those crazies?” He yelled, peeking out the barn doors for only a second. “I should’ve known.” His voice was cold and malicious. “You’re with that son of a bitch, Dutch!”

“Who?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, pretty boy, they must’ve sent you up to spy on us! I’m gonna kill you for-“

“I literally have no idea what’s going on!” But he wasn’t listening to reason, clocked you in the ribs before you got the chance to block, then using your surprise to his advantage, hit you on the nose. There was a familiar crack and blood rush. “Did you just fucking break my nose, you ass?” You screeched toward the ground, wiping away the blood. 

You took him off guard by doing that, so you were quick to knock him in the jaw. The shooting stopped but you were a little preoccupied and decided not to waste anymore time. His arm bent to caress the side of his face. You rushed forward, lacing your arm between the gap his made. Using all your weight, you swung your legs out and forced him to drop to the ground. His back slammed forcefully and with a swift adjustment, your shins trapped his neck, locking him in place. You squeezed his neck enough to make him gasp. He tried to push away from you, but with the position you left him in, there’s no way he’d be able to without some sort of outside assistance. 

“Who are you calling pretty boy now? Huh? Who, bitch boy?” You heard the door start to open, you let lose and pulled the man up to shield you, locking his head so that you peek between a gap in your arm and his head. A man wearing a blue coat and hat walked in, his hands resting on his belt. 

“Well, well, what have we got ourselves here?” You couldn’t quite place his accent. You noticed he had a holster. 

“Don’t fuck with me, dude. I’ve got your friend trapped between me and you. No need to make this get crazy.” You warned, tightening your grip to enunciate your point. What sounded almost like a chuckle escaped his throat. 

“You must not be an O’Driscoll if you think he’s my friend.” You panicked, you tried to think of your next move, but he had plans of his own. “What’s your name, son?” Your suspicions were correct, it seems. This isn’t the first time someone’s confused you for a man, especially when you were trying so hard to not look like yourself. But maybe, you could use this to your advantage. 

“James West.” That was Austin’s code name for danger. If someone introduced you or called any of you James, it meant they weren’t trust worthy. You and Gina would usually use Jamie, but now James felt like the safer option. 

“Now how in the hell did you get involved in this, West?” He rested his hip against one of the stable posts.  

“I have no idea.” You threw the man away from you, there was no point holding him anymore. “I woke up here, and this guy just started attacking me.” You thought for a moment. “Are you Dutch?” You asked. This time, it was a single, hearty-

“HA!” He had a spark in his eye. “Me? Dutch? I ain’t that old yet, kid.” You rolled your eyes and pulled yourself up. 

“Well, my nose is broken because this little shit thought I was with you, so I have some choice words for this ‘Dutch’.” You huffed. “And don’t call me ‘kid’.” You brushed your fingers across the bridge of your nose, preparing yourself for what you were about to do. One deep breath in, out, pop. You pushed your nose back into place and winced. A wad of blood shot out. “Jesus shit!” You coughed, you never get used to having to do that. The blue coat cowboy looking mother-fucker looked semi-impressed. 

“Well, I’m not Dutch, but you could sure meet him if it pleases.” Something caught his attention. “Speak of the devil…” The door opened again. A man walked in with very distinct black hair. He was also a cowboy looking mother-fucker. Oh god, am I in yeeyee country? His eyes immediately locked on you. 

“Did you cause this mess, Arthur? Or have we just met a new friend?” The man who you presumed to be Dutch, had a deeper voice than the man apparently called Arthur, but their accents were similar. That was not promising for you. 

“That depends, his name is West, James West. I walked in a right fine mess between him and that there O’Driscoll.” Arthur pointed to the man still struggling to steady himself. Dutch choked a deep laugh, he seemed more amused than Arthur was. 

“Right fine is right, Arthur. You did this?” He asked. You nodded reluctantly. “You’re a good fighter, boy. Real good, it seems.” He strode over to the guy on the floor and picked him up by the collar, tossing him over to Arthur. “Morgan, you deal with this trash while I talk to our new pal.” Dutch walked over to you, confidence in his step, while Arthur threw the man back on the ground. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and shook you around a bit. “James West, huh?”

“Yeah, what’s it to ya?” 

“Oh, this boy’s got spunk, Morgan!” You looked over and saw Arthur yanking the man around by the shirt. Dutch forced your attention back to him. “Now West, you’ve gotta understand our position here. We can tell clear as day you ain’t involved in a lick of this mess. But we don’t have a single clue as to what your business is up here. Now, you seem like a considerate young man, but I got worried folks on this mountain, and I can’t have no scamps running around and hellraising” He squeezed your shoulder. “So, don’t take any offense to what I’m about to ask, but what are you doing up here?” He looked you dead in the eyes. In your opinion, the question was fair. You couldn’t fully let your guard down, but they appeared to not be whoever put you here. Then again, these O’Driscoll’s didn’t seem to be either. 

“I can’t give you an answer to that one, Mr. …?” 

“Van Der Linde.” That’s one hell of a name. 

“Mr. Van Der Linde. Frankly, I have no damn clue why I’m here. One minute, I’m getting shot down in the middle of the day, and then I wake up trapped in some barn in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, in what looks like the ass end of winter. So, I’m a little confused right now to say the least.” You were clearly frustrated with your situation, he wasn’t oblivious to it. 

“Where are you from, son?”

“California.” That was a safe enough answer. 

“James West from out West. That’s certainly an opener.” He scratched his chin. “I’m gonna put you to a test young man.” He turned you around and lead you over to where Arthur had just gotten off the now bloody man. He was whimpering, begging under his breath for mercy. 

“I don’t think he’s got much to say, Dutch. They apparently happened upon this place and took it over. That’s all I’m getting’” 

“I’m going to give our new young friend a choice.” He pulled a revolver out of his holster and held the handle out to you. “In normal circumstances, I’d let Arthur handle this situation himself. But I’ve got an itching curiosity with you, kid.” You felt obligated to hold it in your hand. Looking down at the man, pity flared in your chest. “Should we kill him, or let him go? I’m letting you make the call.” What kind of question was this? Who were these guys? The choice wasn’t very difficult, you’d be a hypocrite if you did otherwise, and you weren’t compromising your promise on the off chance these guys might not like your opinion. 

You handed the gun back to Dutch. 

“Just because he’s an asshole, doesn’t mean he deserves to die. Let him go.” Dutch was intrigued by your answer. He looked over to Arthur with a smirk.

“I think I like kid!” 

“Please don’t call me ‘kid.” You requested. Arthur pulled the man to his feet and threw him outside.

“Get outta here before he regrets it.” The man darted into the snow, leaving a trail behind him. 

“Grab the horse, Arthur. We gotta get something out of this.”  You were lead outside to find a horrific scene, bodies were strewn about the snowy landscape. Whoever these guys were, they were not to be trifled with. You should play this safe. 

There was a house not too far away, the snow was dense. It was more than freezing. You sent a glare to the horse Arthur led past you. You’ll pay for this, you dumb fucking horse. With your adrenaline dying down, your whole being felt frozen. 

“Normally, I wouldn’t be one for disrupting dead for anything other than money, but you’ll die out here without something warm, Mr. West.” Dutch gestured to one of the several bodies riddled through the snow. You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying your best not to think about how you were robbing from dead people. It wouldn’t be the first time, but you still didn’t feel good about it. You separated from him and carefully stepped around the bodies littered in the snow. You found a man with his face in the snow, you pretty much picked him so you wouldn’t have to see his face as you stripped him of his coat. It didn’t look particularly warm initially, but anything would be better than this. The arms bent limply back as you peeled the sleeves away. Luckily upon further inspection, you were happy to learn there was a sort of wool lining inside, that would at least help insulate your own body heat. A sudden commotion broke out from inside the rustic home. A man yelling for Dutch and a woman screaming. Your instincts made you spring into action, you lept through large portions of the snow to make it to the steps faster and before you knew it you were bursting through the door. A blonde man wearing another cowboy-looking hat was chasing a woman around a table. 

“What the hell are you doing, Micah?” Arthur questioned as him and Dutch followed you in. 

“We got a feisty one over here, boys!” He hollered. Oh, you were not comfortable with this type of language.

“Stop chasing the poor woman, ya moron!” He warned with more intensity. You weren’t gonna see this go down, that’s for sure. You ran up behind the man called Micah, grabbed his collar, and used his weight to pull his back towards you, and then to the ground. His body slammed, he let out a surprised yelp, followed by a pained groan.

“Fucking sicko! Stop chasing her around, she’s scared!” 

“Get out of my house!” The woman bellowed. Admittedly, you had no idea what was going on, but you knew you could at least try and defuse the situation. You put your hands up to appear less threatening. 

“Miss, I don’t know who you are or what in God’s name is going on, but I promise I am not here to hurt you.” You spoke to her in a calm voice. Whatever was going on, it clearly had her frazzled. “I don’t have any weapons, and I don’t make it habit of hurting people who don’t need hurting. You clearly have been hurting for no reason. Can you explain to me what’s happened so that I can help you with this situation?” You took a cautious step around the table to make sure she wouldn’t dart away from you, you kept steady eye contact. 

“They…they killed my husband a few days ago! They took over my home and locked me in the basement!” She wept. Maybe these O’Driscolls were the ones to stow you in the barn, they sure seemed like the type with this new information. 

“I’m so sorry for your loss, ma’am. I can assure you that those men won’t be bothering you anytime soon. Can you-“ You heard glass shatter, looking over, you found Micah scattering to his feet, fire was spreading from the floor to the wall at an incredible rate. It was already crawling up the right-side wall before you had a chance to react. There was no way you could put that out by yourself, and the others weren’t exactly jumping at the chance to help you. You settled on running to grab some blankets from the bed across the room. The boys were leading the woman out of the house and she reluctantly followed. Micah sent you a glare as you passed him out of the house. “Oh, don’t you look at me like that, you weren’t any help!” You knew you should keep your mouth shut, but you knew you were right on this one. The group was walking toward some horses, you followed behind. 

“Micah, lead the horse back to camp.” You handed the blankets to the woman. 

“Thank you.” She seemed genuine but was also hurt by your sentiments.

“It’s no problem, ma’am.”

“Adler, Sadie Adler is my name.” She wrapped herself in the blankets.

“Well, it’s no problem, Mrs. Adler. It’s the bare minimum to what I could’ve done.” You hoped whatever camp Dutch mentioned was close by. This cold was blistering. 

“Mrs. Adler, you may ride with me, we’ll get you back to people who can help.” Dutch hopped up onto a white horse, lending a hand for Sadie to pull herself up. “Arthur, please take our new friend with you. I don’t think he’s in any shape to be riding.” Arthur nodded, heaving himself with ease onto a spotted mare? You couldn’t tell if it was a girl, but you just got that vibe. He did not give you a hand. Oh yeah, I’m a dude. A manly man. You gripped the back of the saddle and used all the arm strength you had to get onto the bare back on the horse. You hoped this ride wasn’t going to be too bumpy because you were not about to get punched because you had to grab onto this man and couldn’t tell if someone was a homophobe or not. You sure hoped these people weren’t, but you weren’t exactly in the position to be picky. 

“Pearson’s not gonna happy about this.” Arthur mentioned as the horses pushed forward.

“Mr. Pearson isn’t happy about anything except his drink. He’ll be alright.” Now seemed like a good a time as any to start asking questions. They couldn’t go anywhere away from you at the moment. 

“Not to interrupt or anything, but could someone tell me where I am, or what day it is. Could someone please tell me what the deal is?”

“We’re north of New Hanover if the maps are correct. We’re planning to head down there as soon as this winter passes. God knows how long that’s gonna take.” Dutch complained. You had never heard of New Hanover, but apparently it was winter. Maybe you really did get shot, put into a hospital maybe? Then these guys… You panicked for a second. O’Driscoll wasn’t another name for them was it? It didn’t make much sense but no one else would put this much effort into stealing you away. “As for the day, I couldn’t tell ya exactly. It’s winter in the year of our Lord 1899.” He laughed. What?

“What?”

“Ah, just bit of a joke, son. We live in dark times. We’re hurtling straight into a new century.” Wait was he joking or not joking?

“It’s 1899?” You tried to keep your voice neutral, but he seemed to pick up on your worry.

“Yes, it is, son.” He paused. “Are you alright?” You were anything but alright. These people are crazy, I’m trapped on a mountain with some insane cultists who think they’re in the 19th century, I’m fucked. “Arthur, we need to hurry, the boy’s looking pale.” 

Your head felt fuzzy, colors were blurring together. I am not stuck on a god damn mountain in 1899, I’m not, that’s physically impossible. This is all a dream, or some weird set up. You felt like you were 19 again, disconnected, afraid, losing it. You weren’t gonna go back there again, you wouldn’t! You didn’t know you had stopped breathing. You didn’t feel Arthur’s arm catching you so you wouldn’t get trampled. Everything was black. 

[writingblock101]

Are You Fucking Kidding Me? (Jason Todd x Reader)

What is a short Jason Todd fic? I don’t know her, so I broke this into two parts, again. Also, you can pry italics from my cold, dead hands. I had so much fun writing this, I really enjoy this debate. After this, I have a Harley Quinn!daughter request to write, so keep an eye out for that one. 

Summary: As an ER nurse, you deal with a lot of shit, but Red Hood is not one of those things. 

Warnings: Injuries are mentioned? It’s not very gory, this is very dialog heavy 

Word Count: 4,000

You’ve seen a lot of shit working as a nurse in the emergency room. Last week, an eight-year-old who still wore pulls ups came in, despite being physically and mentally capable of learning how to use a toilet at an earlier age. Three nights ago, you watched a mother hug her teenage son and sob with relief after the doctor stitched his wrists up after a suicide attempt.  Yesterday, you performed CPR on a three-week-old only for the infant to die. Some nights were better than others. 

Then the Red Hood shows up in Gotham. 

He’s fighting crime, you guess, but geez, is killing people really necessary? You might understand if it was someone like Joker or a serial killer or something, but this guy isn’t even going after the masked psychopaths that run around Gotham. He’s going after drug dealers. And not just throwing them in prison, no, he’s murdering them. 

Seriously? Gotham is practically a superheroes’ playground, but this guy, this Red Hood is running around murdering drug dealers? Yeah, you understand what they’re doing is illegal, but come on, rape is also illegal and you don’t see rapists showing up dead on the news. Instead, you see some dude who was selling crack on the corner, dead. 

And yeah, you might be slightly biased against using death to solve problems as someone who entered a field dedicated to saving lives, but this Red Hood dude? He’s kind of an idiot. 

. . . 

After a twelve-hour shift ending at 6 AM, you head to your apartment, hoping to relax, but that plan is promptly thrown out the door when you open your apartment door to see no one other than the Red Hood sitting on your couch, pointing a gun at you, and holding his side. 

Are you fucking kidding me? 

“Shut the door,” He orders quietly, his voice sounding just as gravely and deep as you figured it would. 

You sigh, flick the lights on, and shut the door. 

“Pretty convenient for you to break into a nurse’s apartment when you’re bleeding out,” You state boredly, setting your things on the counter. “I have a feeling that wasn’t luck.” 

“You’re going to help me,” He threatens, cocking the gun. 

You roll your eyes. 

“Or what? You’re gonna shoot me and bleed out on my couch? Stellar plan.” 

He slowly lowers his gun, probably hoping for more fear to be struck in your heart as opposed to sass. 

“Will you please help me?” He asks quietly. 

You huff to yourself and shake your head. Unbelievable. But, you go to your bedroom and dig out the trauma kit gifted to you by your sister’s military medic husband. Stupid murdering criminal or not, he’s trying to do some good in the city, you guess, so you’re not going to let this dumbass bleed out on your couch.

“Scoot over,” You command as you walk back into the living room then sit down next to Red Hood and snap on a pair of gloves. 

He shifts and removes his hand, letting you look at the deep stab wound which is oozing yellowish discharge and has scabbing gathered around the edges. It seems to be an old wound that got infected then reopened. A ripped Kevlar vest is discarded on the couch. How the fuck? 

“I wasn’t going to shoot you,” He mutters. 

“Really?” You retort sarcastically, digging for disinfectant in your bag. “You know, I was always taught that you only point a gun at someone you have the intention of shooting,” You glare at him, but he looks away sheepishly. 

“It was supposed to be extra motivation. It’s hard to tell who hates me and I’m kind of desperate.” 

“I wonder why," You mutter sarcastically.

You grab a pair of scissors from your bag and cut a bigger hole in his shirt to expose more of the wound then begin cleaning out the infection.  

“I’m guessing you’re not my biggest fan.” 

“Wow, you’d really give Batman a run for his money with that whole “world’s greatest detective” status,” You remark dryly. 

“Well, do I even get to hear your gripes against me?” 

You sit up and stare at him. 

“Why bother asking? I know you don’t give a shit,” You continue cleaning the wound, your teeth grinding against each other. 

He shrugs. 

“Yeah, not really,” Red Hood admits. “But you’re keeping me from dying so I could at least listen.” 

“How the hell did you do this?” You demand, ignoring his last question. “It looks like you got stabbed, but you were wearing Kevlar. Who gets stabbed in a gunfight?” 

“Someone that isn’t expecting the other guy to be carrying a knife sharp enough to cut through Kevlar,” He snaps. 

“It’s almost like people have started picking up on your M.O. and are arming themselves,” You roll your eyes. “Crazy.” 

“Seriously, what is your issue with me?!” 

You pause to put away the disinfectant and pull out a suture kit, but before you thread the needle, you stop to look Red Hood in the eye through his stupid helmet. 

“I’m in a field dedicated to saving lives. What do you think my issue with you is?” 

He scoffs. 

“Great, another person with the morals of Batman. Should I also toss down some pillows before they hit the ground? They’re drug-dealing pimps!” 

“Yeah, they’re pieces of shit, but out of all the shitbags in this city, you’ve decided that drug dealers are the ones worth killing?! I’d understand having them arrested, but murder? It’s overkill,” You grumble, beginning to stitch up his side.  

“You underestimate how much of the crime in Gotham is controlled by the drug trade.” 

You roll your eyes again. 

“Yeah, maybe I do, but who died and gave you the power to be the judge, jury, and executioner?”

“I’m cleaning up Gotham! I’m doing what Batman won’t do!” 

“Have you ever considered that the ideas of good and evil are subjective?” You snap. “It’s not always so black and white. Sometimes people make mistakes or get desperate and they’re scared. They think this is their only out and they’re too wrapped up in their own lives to consider the consequences. They don’t deserve to die! Send them to prison!” 

“You haven’t seen the type of evil that plagues Gotham,” Red Hood responds darkly. 

“Oh bullshit! I see the worst side of humanity every fucking night! Three hours ago, I helped a doctor stitch up a two-year-olds head because her mom’s shitty boyfriend grabbed her by the legs and slammed her into a wall because she was crying. Even I know that this shit isn’t black and white.” 

“Yeah, you’re right, send them to prison, then five months later they’re walking the streets again, doing the same shit! People don’t change.” 

“You don’t give them the chance to change.” 

“They’ve already proven they don’t deserve that chance!” 

“For dealing drugs? Come on, you gotta see that killing them is kind of extreme!” 

“I don’t.” 

You groan, shaking your head. 

“This is why I didn’t even want to bother to have this conversation. I know I’m not going to change your mind.” 

“I’ve got bigger fish to fry.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I’m going after drug dealers right now to get someone else’s attention.” 

“So, what about all these people you’re killing to “get someone’s attention”? What are they? Means to an end?” 

“I don’t see one less drug-dealing pimp on the street being a bad thing.” 

“I don’t see one more drug-dealing pimp in prison being a bad thing. You murdered five people last night--”

Red Hood scoffs. 

“That they know about.” 

You roll your eyes and tie off the last stitch then prepare the bandages to cover the fresh stitches. 

“It doesn’t fucking matter,” You growl, wrapping up his side with gauze and tape. “You murdered five people, all under the age of twenty-two last night.”

“Your point?” 

“My point is they’re stupid kids who don’t deserve to die!” You snap. “They’re young and stupid and unaware! Let them go to prison! They don’t deserve to die!” 

“Like I said, all of this is to take out someone bigger.” 

“Really?” You raise an eyebrow. “And who’s this “bigger” person?” 

“You’ll see soon enough, and you’ll thank me,” He hisses. 

“Right,” You nod, placing the last piece of tape. “I’m sure I will.” 

As you pack up your supplies and gather any bloodied material, you walk Red Hood through the aftercare for his stitches. 

“Keep them covered for forty-eight hours and try not to reopen them. You really don’t want to stretch the skin too much. Don’t shower for twenty-four hours, then you can start washing them with soap and water. Rest and laying down will help with pain and swelling,” You glance over at him, slowly nodding along with what you’re saying. “If it gets infected again… Go to the hospital or something.”

Red Hood nods then slowly stands up, carefully puts his jacket on, and heads to your window. He slides the window open and rests a foot on your window sill. 

“Hey!” You protest. “What did I just say about not stretching the skin?!” 

“I don’t think your neighbors would be pleased to see me roaming the hallways,” He remarks dryly. “Besides, I don’t need some drug lord to know I have a loose end in this apartment complex.”

“Whatever,” You groan.

Rip your stitches out, see if I care, dumbass. 

“Thanks for the stitches,” He fully steps out the window then pauses and pops his head back inside. “Oh, and those five dudes you saw on the news? The ones under twenty-two or whatever? Yeah, they were dealing to twelve-year-olds,” Then he disappears with the last word. 

Twelve-year-olds? Even you will admit, that’s pretty despicable, but still. 

“Good riddance,” You mutter to yourself, going back to your bedroom for a shower. 

Red Hood is an asshole. 

. . .

Two weeks passed and as you hoped and expected, you didn’t open your apartment door to a gun being pointed at you. You figured that night was the last night you’d see the Red Hood unless he was on the news, and you were very content with that. While the news of killing the dealers who dealt to kids was surprising and slightly admirable, you had no desire to see him again. 

So, you can imagine your annoyance when you open your apartment door to see a familiar figure sitting on your couch. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” You groan. “What, no gun this time?” 

Red Hood chuckles. 

“Well, I would just because, but I don’t have the means to hold my arms up right now.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed together and you drop your stuff on the counter before walking over to him. 

“What the hell did you do this time?” 

“I uh… Dislocated one shoulder, which I would put back in place myself, but my other elbow and wrist are broken, so I kind of… can’t.” 

“Uh-huh…” You say slowly then eye his leather jacket, hiding his arms and shoulders. “Hopefully we don’t need to cut this off, because I’m not sure I have scissors strong enough to get through leather on hand.” 

“You better not cut my fucking jacket,” He grumbles. 

“Well, you should’ve thought about that before dislocating your shoulder and breaking your elbow and wrist!”

“Right, because I definitely left my apartment thinking you know what would be fun tonight? Getting my ass kicked!” Red Hood retorts sarcastically. 

“Who did you lose to?” 

“Nobody,” He snaps. 

“Really? Because this doesn’t look like a victory to me,” You gesture at his arms. 

“The other guys look worse,” He responds smugly. 

You roll your eyes. 

“Yeah, I’m sure they do,” You mutter digging two splints, tape, and gauze out of your expansive first aid kit. “You bleeding anywhere?” You ask, sitting down on the couch next to him. 

“Not this time,” He grumbles. 

“How are your stitches healing?” You ask, unraveling the gauze. 

“Fine.” 

“Alright, let’s try to get your jacket off,” You focus on his right arm first, the one with the dislocated shoulder, and carefully push the jacket off his arm. 

He winces, barely audible, but you manage to get the jacket off his right arm. 

“Now this side will be fun,” You groan, moving over to Red Hood’s left side. 

You easily pull his jacket off his left shoulder, but once you reach the elbow, the jacket gets stuck. Understandably, his elbow has swelled so pushing the jacket down isn’t an option. 

“You really don’t want me to cut this?” You ask, frowning at the leather. 

“If it’s avoidable,” He responds in a pained voice. 

Although he’s been fairly quiet, you know he’s in a lot of pain. 

“Okay,” You sigh, thinking over your options. “Well, we’re not going to be able to push it off. Your elbow is too swollen… But, I could grab the cuff and carefully pull it off. It’s going to hurt really bad though--”

“Do you think you could get it in one yank?” 

“Um… Maybe? But that might mess your elb--”

“I don’t care. I don’t want to sit here for twenty minutes while you try to be gentle. Just yank the damn thing off.” 

“...Okay,” You blink. “Um… let’s see… How much can you straighten your arm?” 

He pulls his arm out at a slightly awkward angle.

“That’s the best I got,” He says through gritted teeth. “And I can’t hold it for long.” 

“Right,” You quickly stand up to get the best leverage, then grab the cuff with both hands. “Okay, ready?” Then you yank as hard as you can and the jacket comes off. 

Red Hood yells then doubles over in pain, his head against your coffee table. He continues cursing, banging on the table before finally sitting up, breathing heavily through his helmet. 

“Holy shit, you weren’t kidding about it hurting.” 

“Yeah,” You nod. “But it’s off and your jacket isn’t cut, so the next question is what do you want to be done first-- your arm splinted or for me to relocate your shoulder?” 

He groans. 

“Wow, they both sound like so much fun.” 

“Splinting probably won’t be that bad after pulling the jacket off,” You note. “I found an old wrist brace in my stuff so I’ll use that on your wrist then the splint for your elbow.” 

He nods along, probably still recovering from the force it took for you to yank his jacket off so you start splinting his elbow and wrist. 

“You’re actually going to have to rest,” You tell him, finishing up the tight wrappings. “Broken bones are no joke, you’re actually going to have to rest if you want to heal.” 

“Yeah, yeah I know,” He grumbles. 

You move to his shoulder and maneuver his arm into place. 

“Alright, you ready?” 

He nods. 

“Okay, I’m going to count to three. One, two--” Then you shift his shoulder into place, rolling the ball back into his socket. 

“Shit!” Red Hood doubles over. “I thought you were going to count to three!” 

“It’s a trick for putting stuff back in place,” You explain, putting away any extra supplies. “If I had put your shoulder back when I said I was going to, your body would tense up in preparation and make it harder to put it back.” 

“Right,” He grumbles, rolling his shoulder then stands up to leave. “Thanks for the help.” 

“Wait,” You call to him as he reaches the window. “Why did you wait so long to tell me that the dealers you killed were dealing to kids?” 

He shrugs with one shoulder.

“Does it really matter to you?” 

“Kind of! I’m not on board with killing people,” You remind him. “But at least it makes slightly more sense.” 

“I don’t go around justifying myself to people. You rather agree or get the hell out of my way.” 

“What a motto,” You roll your eyes. “Do you kill everyone you don’t agree with?” 

“You’re still alive,” He points out. 

“How reassuring. What, do you have only child syndrome or something?”

“Stop trying to guess shit about me, you suck at it,” He snaps. “See you next time, doc.'' 

“I guess I don’t get any say in that matter, do I?” 

“As long as I’m the one holding the gun, nope,” He winks, stepping out of your window. 

“Guess I’ll just have to invest in a gun then,” You retort. 

Red Hood snorts and fully steps onto the fire escape outside your window. 

“You won’t shoot me.” 

“You don’t know that!” You protest. 

“Yeah, I do,” Then he hops off the railing, already ignoring your advice to rest his injuries. 

“I might,” You mutter to yourself. “Go break your arms again, see if I give a fuck,” You mumble angrily, walking to your bedroom. 

Red Hood still an asshole. 

. . . 

Two months later, you open your apartment door to be greeted by a familiar gun. You sigh, locking the door behind you. 

“I thought we moved past the whole “threatening me with a gun” thing?” You roll your eyes. 

“Last time doesn’t count,” Red Hood reasons through a pained voice. You notice he’s laying down this time instead of sitting up. “I couldn’t hold up a gun.” 

“What did you do this time?” You ask boredly. 

“Got blown up,” He responds casually. “I think I got some stuff stuck in my chest.” 

“If you stain my couch, being blown up won’t be your biggest problem tonight,” You growl at him. 

“Love it when you threaten me,” Red Hood remarks with an eye roll. 

“Shut up,” You mutter, grabbing your trauma kit. “I don’t know how I became your personal “doc in the box”,” You grumble, sitting down next to him. 

“Because you keep helping me.” 

“I don’t know why I keep doing that either.” 

“Probably morals or some shit.” 

“How ironic of me,” You remark. 

Red rolls his eyes. 

“I have morals.” 

“Would’ve fooled me,” You retort, looking over the shrapnel lodged in his chest. 

“Last time I talked to you, you seemed impressed I actually killed people doing really shitty things.” 

“I know every drug dealer you kill isn’t dealing to kids. It doesn’t cancel each other out.” 

“They all have the potential to,” He points out. 

“Yeah, and every person has the potential to be a serial killer, but you don’t see me going around murdering every person I can find,” You snap on a pair of gloves then use a pair of tweezers to begin picking out shrapnel. 

“No, but you certainly wouldn’t let the ones holding a knife to people’s throats go free.”

You clench your jaw, already annoyed. 

“Who tried to blow you up?” 

“Batman.” 

“Nice,” You nod. “And somehow, you still think you’re in the right.” 

“You don’t know shit about Batman or the things he’s done.” 

“You sound like every other masked psychopath in this city with a vendetta against Batman.” 

Red snatches your wrist, squeezing tightly. 

“I am nothing like them,” He growls out. 

“Really?” You ask, unphased by his grip on you. “And what makes you different?” 

“I’m being what Gotham needs.” 

“That’s a pretty subjective answer, if you ask me. You don’t think someone like Two-Face at one point thought he was being what Gotham needed? Or what about Catwoman and Poison Ivy? They seem to be a lot like you.” 

“The villains that run around Gotham, they don’t fear Batman,” Red releases your wrist. “You wanna know why? Because they know he won’t kill them. But they’re scared of me because they’ll know I’ll finish the job. Gotham doesn’t need justice. She can’t even carry out justice. She needs an iron fist, vengeance.” 

“Gotham needs a lot of things, someone else going around killing people is not one of those things,” You mutter, dropping the last piece of shrapnel on a paper towel you laid out. 

“You’re right, we don’t need anyone else going around killing innocent people, so it’s a good thing I’m not killing innocent people.” 

“So, what happens when that line becomes blurred?” You ask, sitting up for a moment to look at Red Hood. “What happens when your judgment becomes clouded and it turns out the people you thought were evil aren’t actually evil? What happens when you start killing innocent people?” 

“I won’t let it get to that point.” 

“Nobody thinks it’ll get to that point,” You point out, beginning to clean out the cuts. 

“Yeah, well, I have certain… past experiences that set me apart.” 

“Really?” You raise your eyebrows. “And what’s your tragic backstory that sets you apart?”

“None of your business,” He snaps. “And also not what I am referring too. Didn’t anyone tell you about what happens when you make assumptions?” 

You roll your eyes then grab a pair of scissors and cut a small section of Red Hood’s shirt only to be met with the strangest thing you’ve ever seen in all your years of practicing medicine.

“Is this…” You stare at the scar longer, just to be sure. “Is this an autopsy scar?!” 

“Don’t worry about it,” He brushes you off quickly. 

“Holy fuck it totally is,” You curse. “Who are you?!” 

“You know, the whole point of the helmet is for you to not know the answer to that.” 

“You literally have an autopsy scar! And you’re not going to give me any explanation for that?” 

“Nope. It’s none of your business, sweetheart.” 

“Don’t call me sweetheart,” You growl. 

“Then stay out of my business.” 

“You brought your business to my apartment when you broke in and threatened me with a gun!” 

“And?” 

“What do you mean “and”?!” 

“And none of what you just said makes me obligated to tell you shit!” 

“I’ve kept you from dying, multiple times!” 

“So? You’re not the only one.” 

“Are you fucking serious?! Dude, you have an autopsy scar! Do you know what that means?!” 

“I would love to hear your thoughts.”

“You rather got tortured by someone who is seriously twisted, or you straight up died and were dead long enough for an autopsy to be performed and are now somehow alive.” 

He pauses then slowly nods. 

“Yeah, that actually just about sums up what happened.” 

“Which one?” 

“Both.”

“...What?!” 

“I gave you an explanation! Can you just finish?!” 

“None of your explanation makes sense! How are you alive?!”  

“I don’t know!” He snaps. “And I’ve had a shitty night so I’d really like to leave so can you please finish?!” His voice cracks on the last word. 

You frown but know you’re not getting any further explanation. Instead, you finish stitching Red up without another word. He stands up and carefully puts his jacket back on and walks toward the window. Before opening it, he stops and glances back at you. 

“I’m… I’m not fully sure how I am alive. All I know is I woke up in my coffin. I died a few years back and a lot of shit happened and now I’m here, for better or for worse.” 

You stare at him for a moment then frown. 

“Are you… okay? Not physically, but mentally?” 

He chuckles humorlessly. 

“Not really. Dying kind of fucks you up. Coming here is fun though. You don’t take any of my shit and it… It makes me feel like myself again. Thanks for the stitches, Doc,” Then he opens the window and disappears into the night. 

You stare dumbfounded at the window. Red Hood is still an asshole, but he just got a whole lot more complicated.

Part two is soon! Wow, I went from never writing multiple parts to needing to split them up because I really love writing for Jason. I’ve also been so blown away by all the love I’ve received on White Flag. Thank you guys so much! 

Part 2

[hollyxqx]

playing with fire  //  yoongi  //  04

↪ PARING: Min Yoongi x Reader ↪ GENRE: angst » smut » idol!au » enemies to lovers ↪ SUMMARY: Yoongi hates you. Or at least he thinks he does. (AKA the one where you work for BigHit and Yoongi is bad at feelings). ↪ WORD COUNT: 6.7k ↪ WARNINGS: heavy angst | sex | secret relationships | jealousy | mild possessive behaviour

ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE

Over the next few months Yoongi and you began to text back and forth. He couldn't help but feel a little thrill every time his phone pinged and your name popped up on the notification. You were just as busy - if not busier - than he was, so often the replies could be sporadic and at odd times in the day but he appreciated each one.

Yoongi had found out from Namjoon that your birthday was approaching and he had an idea. He was actually going to show you a genuine sign of affection. It made him feel anxious and weird but with Namjoon's encouragement he was going to commit and do it.

"Do you know where she's staying?" Namjoon asked discreetly as the two boys made themselves comfortable in their plane seats. They were flying to America and had 14 hours to kill.

"Yeah." Yoongi nodded, unravelling his headphone wire. Namjoon was fishing through his backpack, no doubt looking for a book. "She's in the States too. Chicago."

"It makes it sound like she's close but America is massive."

"I know." He muttered. "I don't even remember when she was last in Korea."

"So what's your plan for the birthday then?" Namjoon asked, pulling out not one but three books. Yoongi fought the urge to roll his eyes at the overkill. Classic Joon.

"Tell me if this is lame, and don't lie," Yoongi began, feeling a little shy at the prospect of what he was about to say. "I'm going to send flowers and champagne to her hotel room. I also got her a gift."

"What's the gift?" Namjoon asked, eyebrows arching in surprise. Yoongi shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"It's a limited edition signed copy of an album she loves. It's vinyl that's out of print." He said quickly, hoping it would make his confession seem less pathetic is he said them faster. "We also saw them live...together."

"Awwww, hyung!" Namjoon exclaimed, punching Yoongi affectionately in the arm. "Who knew you could be so cute?!"

"Shut up." Yoongi grumbled, feeling his cheeks heat up.

"Cutie. Cutie pie Yoongi."

"I won't hesitate to murder you on this plane Joonie." Yoongi warned. Namjoon just grinned wider. He slipped an arm around Yoongi's shoulder and squeezed, practically squealing with glee.

"I never thought I'd live to see the day of Min Yoongi being an adorable sweetheart, all for a girl." Namjoon said as he dodged Yoongi's incoming smack to chest. "It's nice hyung. I think she'll really like it."

"I hope so."

They settled in for the international flight, Yoongi with his music on and Namjoon with his face buried in a book. Somewhere a few rows behind them he could already hear Taehyung snoring and Jimin complaining. It was going to be a long journey.

***

Yoongi watched the rookie boy group you managed on YouTube on the ride to the hotel, ignoring the rest of his bandmates. They were bundled into a minivan rather quickly after landing to avoid the crowds at the airport. He'd just spent 14 hours with his group, he could do with some quiet time alone. Taehyung had alcohol on the plane and was too giddy for his liking, talking too fast and giggling.

The group were called TXT. They looked young, but Yoongi was never great at guessing someone's age. He was watching a backstage vlog that one of the boys filmed. He would never admit it but he was looking for you in the background. It didn't take long for him to spot you, laughing and joking with the main rapper. An ugly feeling roared in him. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

You wore the same leather jacket he's seen you in a thousand times, the one adorned with cute metal pins. Your hair was longer and lighter than he remembered. You looked like you. The same, but slightly different.

He watched the video in its entirety, keeping a careful eye out for you in the background, occasionally catching a glimpse. It made him feel slightly voyeuristic, but it was the only way he could see you. Your instagram that he sometimes lurked had been made private (much to his dismay) and he wanted to know what your were up to.

"What's that?" Jin asked, nudging Yoongi with his elbow, gesturing to the phone screen.

"Nothing," Yoongi replied quickly, locking the screen so it went black. Jin eyed him suspiciously.

"That looked like TXT."

"How do you know that?!" Yoongi asked, incredulously.

"I recognised Soobin. I've spoken to him a couple times before they debuted." Jin explained.

"Oh."

"Nice kid. Didn't think he was your type though." Jin teased, a hint of amusement in his voice since Yoongi was obviously straight. "Unless...you're keeping tabs on y/n."

He felt his face flush with embarrassment getting caught in the act of snooping. It was intended to be a private thing he'd never admit to. "I was just checking out our competition hyung. These kids are the next generation." It wasn't the most convincing lie he's ever told but it was all he could come up with on the spot. Jin bit back a smirk.

"If you say so."

***

The sound of a ringing cellphone stirred Yoongi out of the sleep he'd accidentally fallen in to. After being in America for several days the jet lag was taking its toll and what was supposed to be a short rest on the sofa backstage turned in to a full on nap. Bleary eyed and still half asleep he fished through his pocket to find the device. When your name popped up on the screen he was instantly wide awake.

"Hello?" He answered, somewhat cautiously.

"Min Yoongi you are terrible."

Perhaps it was the fact that he'd just woken up but he was instantly confused. "Huh? What?"

"My gift!" You exclaimed and it suddenly clicked in his mind that yesterday was your birthday and you received the present he sent. For a horrible moment his heart sank, thinking you didn't like it. "I can't believe you did that."

"Did what?" He played dumb.

"Got me one of the most thoughtful birthday presents ever." He swore you were smiling as you spoke. "I was so shocked when the delivery guy knocked on my hotel door."

"I wanted to surprise you." He laughed a little. "It's not a surprise if you know it's happening."

"Well, you certainly did. I'm still in shock." You joked. "I just called to say thank you. It's perfect."

"You're welcome."

"I'm saving the champagne though."

"Why?" He asked. He had wanted you to enjoy it.

"For when we see each other next. We can share it." You explained. Yoongi bit back the huge smile that was tugging at his lips. "You know, we will be at the LA KCON at the same time right?"

He didn't actually know that. Yoongi wasn't the most organised person in the world, relying on the team around him to tell him where to be and when. He was aware KCON was approaching but that was it.

"This is news to me." He said and you laughed, knowing from experience just how he was with his schedule. "We probably won't have time to see each other though."

"Let's make time then." You sounded so confident and assured it took him aback. A part of him didn't expect you to want to see him, that you were comfortable with being just acquaintances and nothing more. It made him happy that you were insistent.

"There's the eager y/n I know." At the mention of your name Namjoon's head whipped round and his eyes locked with Yoongi's, a keen look on his face. No doubt Yoongi would get a million questions once the phone call ended. He looked away, trying to ignore the eyes on him.

"So wanting to see my friend is eager?" You played along. Although he couldn't deny the friend comment stung a bit. He fought the urge to make a dirty innuendo knowing Namjoon was within earshot.

"It is when you have more important things to do."

"Shut up. I know you want to see me too."

"I'm just coming for the champagne." He teased. He imagined the eye roll you were no doubt giving him right now. "Did you have a nice birthday?"

"Well," You sighed. "I worked twelve hours and had one of my boys injure himself then spent three hours in an emergency room."

"That sounds like a nightmare."

"It was. Your gift made my day worth it though."

Yoongi felt his chest swell with pride. That was exactly the reaction he had hoped for and he was glad he took the risk in the first place. The two of you chatted for a little longer before you had to go, duty calling you. When you hung up the phone he caught himself smiling a little too much and it was only when Namjoon laughed and threw a packet of snacks at him did he snap out of his daze.

"You look lovesick." Namjoon grinned, ducking when Yoongi threw the snacks back. "It's soooooo cute!"

"I'm not!"

Jimin walked over and flopped down on the sofa next to him, leaning his head on the older male's shoulder. "Were you talking to y/n?" He asked, yawning sleepily. Yoongi wasn't the only one suffering with the time difference.

"Uh, yeah." He replied, shifting so he was comfortable as well.

"Yoongi hyung is in love." Namjoon announced making Jimin snicker.

"I know, I saw him smiling from over there." Jimin replied. "It's the most I've ever seen you smile, hyung."

"So now I can't smile without everyone getting on my case?" Yoongi muttered with a frown but his bandmates just laughed. They continued to tease him throughout the day but he took it on the chin. It didn't matter, because he'd get to see you soon and that in itself was worth the mocking. Just.

***

Two weeks passed in a flash, and before he knew it Yoongi was checking into an L.A hotel room the night before KCON. Fortunately he was sharing with Namjoon which guaranteed a good nights rest. Together they dumped their stuff in the room and settled in for the night.

"Yoongi-hyung," Namjoon yawned, stretching on the opposite twin bed. "Shall we order room service?" He fumbled with the hotel menu.

Yoongi mumbled something in agreement as he checked his phone for the umpteenth time, to see if you had texted. You hadn't. He tossed his phone to the side, mentally cursing himself for being so affected by the lack of attention.

"Oh, Jin-hyung is joining us." Namjoon said, momentarily distracting Yoongi from his thoughts. "He met up with the TXT guys and he's on his way back, said he'd stop by."

Yoongi felt his stomach flip. "TXT?"

"Yeah they're staying at this hotel also." That meant you were staying at this hotel too. Combined with the fact that you hadn't got in contact only made him feel worse. His insides churned.

Jin joined them some time later after their food had arrived. He sat on Namjoon's bed as Yoongi and Namjoon tucked in to their food, face buried in his phone. "Those rookie kids are a mess." He told no one in particular. "They're so nervous for their interview tomorrow."

"Really?" Namjoon laughed, sipping some water. "Is it because they don't speak english?"

"Yeah." Jin replied. "I told them they'd be fine, Yoongi sucks at English and he manages."

"Your English is terrible too." Yoongi protested with a glare, both Jin and Namjoon laughed.

"I ran into y/n, too." Jin said, startling Yoongi a little. "She says hello."

That's it? That's the entire message? Yoongi frowned. He had expected something a little more, at least. Pushing the thought from his mind he attempted to distract himself with his meal. Once he was finished and still thoroughly focused on the sting of mild rejection he excused himself from Jin and Namjoon with the excuse of needing some fresh air. He decided a late night walk might clear his head.

Sejin would not be best pleased that Yoongi was walking around late at night, unaccompanied. What the manager didn't know couldn't hurt him, Yoongi thought as he made his way down to the swimming pool area. It was void of any other hotel guests given the lateness of the hour. It was peaceful.

The pool had lights underneath the water, giving it a relaxing glow. Combined with a cool breeze in the warm night air it was enjoyable. Yoongi sat on the edge of one of the sun loungers, leaning on his knees. It felt almost surreal to be literally in the same building as you but unable to see you.

He was unsure how much time had passed as he sat there, overthinking. "Namjoon told me you went for a walk, I figured you'd be here."

Yoongi looked up to see you standing there, a sweet smile on your face. It had been so long since he'd seen you in the flesh for a moment he thought he was dreaming. "How'd you know?" He smirked.

"I know you." You said simply. "You wouldn't go too far because you wouldn't want to piss off Sejin, you like quiet places so the hotel is a no and you like looking at the sky. So, hence the pool."

"Am I that predictable?"

"I wish you were." You teased. "Still, it's nice to see you."

"You too." He replied quietly. "Sit with me."

You did as he asked, mimicking his position on the sun lounger opposite. He swivelled round so he was facing you rather than the pool. Your knees brushed up against each other as he moved. "How are you? It's been a while..."

"Same old Yoongi, you know me." He couldn't help but study your entire face as he talked, like it was the first time seeing you again. "What about you, Miss Manager?"

"I'm so busy I think I've aged 5 years in the last 5 months." You sighed. "Right now is the first moment of the day I've had to myself." The thought that you came looking for him the second you could made up for the lack of communication from you earlier.

"Thanks for stalking me when you could, I guess." He taunted. You rolled your eyes but with a smile on your face, nudging him playfully with your knee. He noticed you shivered slightly. You were only in a shirt. "Are you cold?"

"I'm fine." You insisted. As if on cue you shivered again. Yoongi didn't need to think twice, he was slipping out of his oversized bomber jacket and leaning across the gap between you, slipping it around your shoulders. "No, Yoongi. Now you'll be cold." You tried to shrug the jacket off but he held it shut at the front of your chest.

"Don't worry about me." He held your gaze for a moment, enjoying just being in close proximity to you. He could smell your perfume this close. It was familiar, images of you underneath him in various locations flashed through his mind.  

"Thank you." You almost whispered. Yoongi didn't let go of the jacket.

"Y/N?" He wasn't sure what he was asking. You looked from his eyes to his lips and then back again. He knew you were thinking exactly what he was. It was as if you were both magnets, being pulled in towards each other when your lips met. Delicate at first, tentative, almost nervous. Like a first kiss. His hand slipped from your front to slide up the side of your neck, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

Unwillingly he pulled away, some rational part of his brain kicking into gear telling him how reckless it was to kiss you in a public space, even if it was deserted. It was always possible someone might be watching.

"Wow," You said breathlessly and he smirked. "It's been...a while since we've done that."

The two of you shared a small, slightly embarrassed laugh.

"I couldn't help it. Sorry."

"I liked it."

"I like you." Yoongi said without thinking, caught up in the moment. Your cheeks tinged pink at his declaration.

"Still?" You asked, avoiding his gaze shyly. "I thought you would have found some other staff member to fool around with by now."

"Nah, Sejin's not my type." He joked. "You are."

"I like it when you're like this Yoongi."

"Like what?"

"Nice." You squeezed his knee affectionately. He placed his hand on top of yours.

"Are you sharing a room tonight?" He asked. "I believe I was promised some champagne."

You grinned. "No, I'm alone tonight. Shall we go up?" He nodded and followed you inside.

***

Your hotel room was smaller than Yoongi's, given that it only had one double bed instead of two singles. Not that he cared. The second the door clicked shut he caged you in against the wood, palms pressed either side of your face. He wasn't going to wait a second longer. He couldn't wait a second longer.

His lips attached themselves to yours greedily, pressing his body into you as he kisses you. Yoongi can't help it, months of pent up want and frustration clouding his mind. You seemed just as desperate also, hands already sliding up the sides of his shirt to touch the bare skin underneath.

"You have no - " He kissed the side of your mouth. " - idea - " His lips moved to your jaw. "- how fucking badly - " Mouth on your neck he sucked the skin between his teeth, nipping at the flesh ever so slightly. "- I've wanted this."

You moaned in response, squeezing his sides. "Me too."

Briefly, he pulled away stripping his jacket and your t-shirt off of you practically growling at the sight of your tits. His memory of them was good but nothing compared to the real thing. He kissed them as he unclasped your bra, hands instinctively cupping them once they were free.

He dropped to his knees, pulling down your leggings and panties, giving you a moment to step out of them leaving you completely bare. Yoongi stayed in this position but hooked one of your thighs up and over his shoulder before diving straight to your leaking core and slipping his tongue between the folds. He felt you almost lose your balance, overcome with the sensation.

"Your pussy is perfect." He said, pushing a finger into you. "I've been fucking dreaming about it."

Your laugh turned into a long moan when he resumed licking your clit, pumping his finger in time with his mouth. Hands tangled in his hair, encouraging him as your hips rocked against his face. After he added a second finger it didn't take long for you to cum hard against his tongue. Yoongi groaned feeling you clench around him. He looked up at you, smirking.

"Jesus christ, Yoongi." You sighed, chest and cheeks both flushed from your orgasm.

"Good?"

"Better than good. Perfect. Amazing." You laughed making him chuckle. He removed his fingers from you and stood, kissing you sweetly on the lips. "Can you get naked now?" You whined. He nodded but didn't move right away, embedding the memory of you naked and pressed up against the door into his brain.

He shed his jeans and t-shirt quickly and you couldn't resist palming his cock over his boxers. Yoongi placed his hand over yours, kissing you deeply as you worked him. His cock was rock hard and any bit of relief felt amazing. "Where do you want it?" He hummed against your lips.

"Anywhere. Just want you."

He walked you backwards to the bed, pushing you on to the soft mattress and ridding himself of his last remaining piece of clothing. His knee went between your thighs spreading them open as he settled between them. Suddenly he remembered that it had been months since he'd last slept with you. It's possible you had had a partner or worse, partners since him.

"Do I need a condom?" He asked in a low voice. You bit your lip and shook your head no.

"Not if you don't want to. You're the only one I've been with in ages."

A wild possessive part of him roared to life, pleased that no one else had got to have you like this. His cock teased at your entrance and you moaned loudly when he dipped the tip of it inside you teasingly. "You want me huh?" He smirked. "Want me to fuck you like old times?"

"Don't care. I need you Yoongi." You whined with a buck of your hips, trying to encourage him as you clung to his shoulders desperately.

He pushed his entire length in agonisingly slowly causing you to practically whimper as you adjusted to his size. Stilling for a moment buried to the hilt he paused, savouring the moment as you made eye contact. "You're so beautiful y/n." He said quietly. Before you could reply he rocked his hips, delighted at the way your eyes closed in pleasure.

He pressed his face into the crook of your neck as he glided in and out of you, going much slower than usual. Yoongi didn't want the moment to end. His orgasm was already bubbling under the surface and he was fighting not to come too early. "How does it feel baby?" He hadn't meant to use the pet name but it just slipped out. In this moment it felt like you were his.

"So good, Yoongi." You moaned. "I want more. Harder, fuck me harder."

Yoongi gave in immediately moving just as you had begged him to. He found the spot in you that made your eyes roll and he drove into it relentlessly, determined to make you fall apart again. "Feels so good. Pussy so tight and wet for me." He grunted.

"For you." You repeated with a gasp. "I'm always so wet for you Yoongi."

"Fuck yeah you are." His pace quickened and when he felt you lock your legs around his waist he knew you were about to come. Angling his hips so that his body was pressed against your clit you cried out his name as you orgasmed. "I'm cumming too, fuck." He groaned, loudly into your neck as he spilled cum into you, eventually slowing his motions to a stop.

Once both of you had regained your breath he rolled off of you, laying on the bed beside you. He didn't know what possessed him but he grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together, wanting some kind of closeness still.

To his surprise you nuzzled in to him, placing a small kiss on his jaw. "That was amazing. I can barely think straight."

"I missed that." He mused. You gave him another kiss before rolling of the bed and heading to the bathroom to clean up. Yoongi lay on the bed, body and mind not entirely back to normal yet. He was still in the same position when you returned a few minutes later. "Come here." He said lowly, opening his arms to you.

You crawled into them, placing a head on his chest. Yoongi pulled the comforter over your naked bodies. "Don't you have to go?" You asked.

"Yeah. At some point. Not yet though." He replied, pulling you close. This was unfamiliar to him, you'd never really cuddled together after sex before. This time it was different and he knew it. Things had changed. He'd allowed himself to be more open to you and in return you'd let him in again.

"You're so much nicer to be around when you're not pretending to hate me." You teased, a gleeful tint in your eye. You went to poke his chest but he grabbed your hand before you got the chance to.

"It doesn't give you licence to be the mean one."

You just smiled at him and went quiet for a few moments. "Is everything you said before still true? About liking me?"

Yoongi gulped, suddenly feeling very nervous and vulnerable again. "Yes."

"You know I like you too, right?"

"In that conversation you literally said you hated me." He laughed.

"I was angry at you!"

"Still."

"Over the past few months you've just been different. I like this side of you. You're sweet. You just have this icy exterior sometimes and I don't know why." You said softly. Yoongi was half embarrassed, half secretly pleased at your compliment. "The first time I met you I thought you were so intimidating." You chuckled.

"Seriously?" He scoffed. "Why?"

"You didn't smile once the entire meeting. And you're hot."

Yoongi recalled that day in his mind, being dragged to lunch, annoyed with himself at how attractive he found you. "I remember being annoyed at how pretty you are." He smiled.

"Annoyed?! Why?"

"Because I wanted you and I couldn't deal with it." He laughed at himself. "Idiot, huh?"

"Yeah, kinda." You joined in his laughter. "It makes sense now."

"What does?"

"Your weird hot and cold behaviour. You didn't want to like me. Technically you're not allowed to like me. I get it now. You were just conflicted."

"So you're not mad anymore?" He smirked.

"No." You smiled.

"When can I see you again?" He asked before he could stop himself.

"Maybe we can find some time tomorrow?" You offered. Yoongi nodded.

"Tomorrow."

*** Yoongi regretfully tiptoed out of your room some time after you'd fallen asleep, holding back a silent smile at the untouched bottle of champagne sitting in the mini fridge. You'd both known it was only an excuse to be together anyway. He gave your sleeping form one last glance on the way out, a wave of affection surging through his chest.

Namjoon stirred when Yoongi re-entered their shared suite. The room was in darkness and the younger male sleepily flicked his bedside light on. "Whoosere?" He mumbled, half sitting up in bed. Yoongi tried not to laugh at the irony of asking that question with your eyes closed.

"It's me, Namjoon." Yoongi whispered, quietly crossing over to him.

"What time is it?"

"Late. Go back to sleep." He leaned over Namjoon to flick his light back off but was stopped by a hand on his arm.

"Were you with y/n?" Namjoon asked, voice still husky with sleep. He yawned and Yoongi nodded, opting to sit on the side of his friends bed. "How was it?" Namjoon smirked.

"Fine." Yoongi tried to bite back yet another smile.

"Fine?" Namjoon smirked harder.

"I'm back in the good books, if that's what you mean."

"And it's all thanks to Kim Namjoon: part time idol, part time therapist." Namjoon teased with a small laugh. It was no secret to Yoongi how much help and advice his younger (but wise beyond his years) bandmate had offered him. Not that he was about to give him all the credit.

"Yeah, yeah." He said, pretending to roll his eyes. "You're a genius."

"Why does it feel like you're being sarcastic?" Namjoon joked.  He sat up straighter in bed, feeling a little more awake. "What happens with you and her now? Are you dating?"

"I don't know." Yoongi answered truthfully. "It's not like either of us have much time for it. After tomorrow I don't know when I will even see her again." He sighed.

"You could always do the long distance thing." Namjoon offered, ever the optimist. Yoongi knew that with his lifestyle and career that is almost always the only option he has when it comes to dating. The risks of getting caught get substantially higher however. At least one night stands and flings are easier to keep from the public. Although he can't remember the last time he had one of those before you.

"Yeah, maybe." He said quietly.

"Hyung, you don't see it but you're totally different when you talk to her. All of us have noticed it. She makes you happy. Someone like that might be worth struggling for."

Yoongi sat silently, letting the weight of Namjoon's words sink in. He certainly had a point. "Yeah." Is all he can manage to get out, suddenly feeling a little emotional.

Namjoon finally looked at the alarm clock and swore loudly as he registered the time. "We have to be up in two hours, sorry Yoongi but therapy hours are over."

Yoongi laughed a little before wishing him goodnight and climbing into his own bed, trying not to overthink things as usual.

*** He knew he was being ridiculous. Logically, he understood why he was feeling that way. But it didn't help quell the bitter, ugly emotion rising like bile in his throat at the sight of you being affectionate with a man that wasn't him. Yoongi was jealous.

The unidentified male was a member of staff and foreign, like you. Yoongi guessed he was a sound engineer by the headphones and clipboard he had. You were laughing together, his arm loosely slung around your waist. It made Yoongi feel insecure - another ugly emotion he hated admitting to - maybe you liked this man more than him. Surely it would be easier for you to be with someone who spoke your native tongue.

Surely you'd want to be with someone who can openly put his arm around you like that.

He turned away and frowned, unwilling to watch anymore. His chest felt hot and tight. Jimin was talking as they waited in the backstage corridor and he tried desperately to focus on him but his brain was screaming at him to peek back at you again. He caved.

The guy held you in an embrace now that looked a little too intimate for Yoongi's liking. Before he could stop himself he was walking, headed in your direction, ignoring Jimin call his name.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but can I please talk to y/n?" He found himself asking you and the stranger. You looked completely startled.

"Uh, s-sure Yoongi." You said cautiously. "Andy, excuse me for a minute. I'll come find you later?" You told your friend. Even that sentence annoyed Yoongi. 'Andy' just smiled and nodded, stepping away to give you and Yoongi some privacy.

"Follow me." Yoongi told you, and although you still looked incredibly confused you did as he asked. He walked briskly, taking a turn down the hallway he remembered BangTan's dressing room was down. He stopped at the door opposite, looked left and right to ensure the hallway was empty and roughly dragged you inside.

"Yoongi what's going on?" You exclaimed. "This is a bathroom." You pointed out as you took in your surroundings. Yoongi shut and locked the door behind him. "Why - "

Yoongi couldn't help himself, before you could even finish your sentence, he grabbed you and roughly pushed you up against the door, his lips going straight to yours. Instinctively you kissed him back, so familiar with having your lips on his. His hands held your wrists up against the cool metal of the door.

"Who was he?" He asked gruffly, pressing his entire body in to yours, chest to chest, dark eyes boring into you.

"Who?"

"Andy." He frowned. "I thought you hadn't been with anyone but me."

"He's my friend." You say quietly. "What's the issue?"

"He didn't look like a friend." Yoongi scoffed. His head dipped down to capture your lips again in a heated kiss. He let go of the vice grip on your hands and gripped your hips, pulling you into him. "You let all your friends touch you like that?" He murmured as he pulled away, opting to kiss his way to your neck.

"Like what Yoongi?" You replied breathlessly. "I didn't do anything."

"He was all over you." Yoongi said into your neck. He started to slowly suck on the tender flesh there, taking it gently between his teeth. He felt your breathing begin to labour as he popped open the button on your jeans.

"You can't leave a mark." You told him, almost in a moan. He just hummed in acknowledgement, already suspecting that it's too late for warnings considering the pace he was going.

"Do you want him to touch you here too?" He asked huskily as his hand slipped in front of your underwear, cupping your entire core. "Is he next, after me?" Yoongi asked, pulling away to look at you for an answer.

"It's not like t-that." You stuttered when he started to rub you over your panties. "Don't be jealous."

"Hmm," He said, pushing your underwear to the side so he was able to touch your bare skin, fingers going to your clit instantly. You hissed at the contact. "How can I not be huh?"

You were silent as Yoongi started to rotate his fingers, keeping a languid pace. His head fell to your neck and he resumed his work on red mark that was starting to form, deliberately ignoring your earlier warning. He was going to mark you. If he couldn't have you publicly this was the next best thing.

"Yoongi," You whined, trying to wiggle away from him but he only held you tighter.

"This is so Andy can see he can't touch you like that." He growled, fingers beginning to go ever so slightly faster. Once he was happy that he'd sucked a dark enough bruise into you he pulled back, returning to your lips. "I want you." He breathed. "You have no idea how badly I want you. The way you look is so unfair."

You were too turned on to be mad at him. "I have an idea of how much." You smirked, rolling your hips into his very prominent erection.

"Do you have time to do this here?" He asked lowly.

"No," You murmured, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure - his hand hadn't stopped its ministrations. "But I want it. I want you too."

In one quick motion Yoongi withdrew his hand and flipped you around so that your chest was flush with the door. Your jeans were soon pushed down to your knees before he nudged apart your feet with one swift push of his thigh. "Put your hands on the door and don't move them."

He was quick to pull his cock out and push in to you. There was no time for teasing and foreplay, Yoongi was sure it wouldn't be long before people started looking for both of you. He set a brutal pace and you were gasping beneath him, hands balling into fists against the door.

"No one fucks you like this, do they?" He panted, squeezing your hips for emphasis.

"Fuck - fuck, no." You choked out. "They don't - ugh - it's just you."

"Good girl." He's close now, hips relentlessly smacking against your ass. "I want you to cum, show me you're not lying. Show me I don't have a reason to be jealous again."

"Yoongi." You moaned loudly. He hoped there was no one on the other side of the door because you definitely would have been heard. "You don't have a reason to be jealous."

"Give it to me." He groaned. "Fucking give it to me, cum for me."

He drove in to you with such a force you stumbled a little, catching yourself on the door. You didn't have time to tell him you were cumming but he could feel it, pussy clenching tightly around him. Yoongi barely let you ride out your orgasm before he was cumming himself, as deep inside you as ever.

His head fell against your back as you both panted, spent. "Didn't take you to be the jealous type." You breathed with a laugh. He carefully pulled out of and went to grab some nearby tissue.

"I didn't like people touching you like that." He grumbled, unwilling to meet your eye as he handed you something to wipe down with. He felt stupid for letting his emotions get the better of him.

"You've got nothing to worry about." You said as you cleaned yourself. "There's no one else. I'm not sleeping with anyone else, that wasn't a lie."

"That might change though." Yoongi said, more so to himself as if he just realised it for the first time.

"If it does, you'll be the first to know." You pulled your jeans upwards as you walked to the mirror to fix your hair. "Jesus christ, my neck Yoongi!" You exclaimed, straining to see the darkening red mark. He peered at it behind you. That would definitely bruise, he thought hiding his grin.

"You can hide it with your hair." He shrugged.

As soon as the two of you were back to being presentable, Yoongi peeked out the door first to ensure a discreet getaway for you both. The coast appeared clear and he slipped out, you close behind. Before you went your separate ways you grabbed his hand. "Steal some of my time later?" You ask.

"Of course." He said and you smiled. As he started to walk away you shouted something that made him feel half embarrassed, half relieved.

"By the way, that guy I was with? He's gay!"

***

After the performance there were several press junkets the BangTan had to attend. Yoongi always found them marginally draining, especially in foreign countries. His English wasn't fantastic (although it had improved vastly since debut days) and it took a lot of mental strength to remain focused. Since they were the main act of KCON they had the most interviews. He was glad when they were over.

It was evening time when they arrived back at the hotel. He'd made plans with Namjoon and Jungkook to do some writing with a few ideas Jungkook had. Yoongi felt like a proud older brother whenever Jungkook took an interest in this side of making music. They holed up in him and Namjoon's room to work.

Yoongi was trying his best to text you discretely, keeping his phone turned away from his bandmates as best he could. He was making an attempt to meet you later, given that the next day would be the last of yours in LA. However it didn't work, Jungkook caught him rather easily.

"Yoongi hyung we're supposed to be working." Jungkook reprimanded from behind his macbook as he sat cross legged on the bed.

"Two guesses as to who he's texting." Namjoon smirked, exchanging knowing looks with Jungkook.

"Shut up." Mumbled Yoongi. "I can do two things at once."

"Like waiting to perform and fucking a bathroom?" Namjoon snickered, already laughing at Yoongi's wide eyed stare. "You idiot."

"What?!" Jungkook exclaimed, a shocked expression appearing on his face.

"I sincerely regret sharing that with you Namjoon, you dick." Yoongi swore at him.

"You are crazy, hyung." Jungkook replied with a shake of his head. "What if you'd got caught?!"

Yoongi just shrugged, trying to act like he didn't care. Obviously he would be mortified if he'd got caught but the truth was he didn't. "It was worth it. You'll know if you ever lose your virginity one day Kook." He grinned.

"I'm not a virgin!" Jungkook whined, making both the older boys laugh. He wasn't and hadn't been for a while but they still liked to tease him as he was the youngest. "I hate you guys."

"I won't judge you, it's okay." Yoongi teased.

"You should be careful though hyung, this girl is making you reckless." Namjoon warned, his tone a lot more serious now. "All jokes aside you shouldn’t pull a stunt like that again."

"God, ok. I won't. I won't even have the opportunity. She's leaving tomorrow."

"I know you like her, but don't let her make you stupid. Stop thinking with your dick."

"I think it's too late for that." Jungkook mumbled under his breath.

"Watch it, kid." Yoongi grumbled. He felt foolish knowing he let his bandmates, his leader down like that. Namjoon was right he shouldn't be so reckless. "Look, it won't happen again."

"You were lucky this time, Yoongi hyung. You might not be next time."

Yoongi shifted uncomfortably in his seat, feeling anxiety constrict on his insides. He needed to be smarter about this before he risked his career any further.

chapter 03 ↩           ↪  chapter 05  

masterlist

[bluepenguinstories]

Remoras Full Chapter XXX: My Only Sunshine

There was nothing that needed to be desired: interesting people have been met, mysteries uncovered, plans fulfilled. People were allowed to come and go as they please. Friends, lovers, family, strangers. It didn’t matter who, nor how close they were to the heart. If they weren’t allowed to go, then what agency did they have? So the sacrifices were made, and would continue to be made as long as there was a soul occupying the diner.

It was easier to separate truths from the self. Feelings weren’t what complicated things, but being a passive observer was more comfortable. Holding on...holding on...was a fool’s errand.

As for the diner, it, like me, sat still. Near-empty. Indeed, it would be so, if not for the child left behind. If not for the memories or the passerby.

Most of the windows were fogged, save for the one I sat beside. Steam billowed out from the cup of tea, chrysanthemum, its flowery scent transported from the steam and into my nostrils. ‘Alone’ was both a truth and something felt within. Being alone and loneliness weren’t the same thing, but the two could stand to make friends with one another.

Just a few days ago, Tigershark awoke from her nap and asked where her figurative older sister was. At the time, I sat at the desk in the back of the diner.

“Gone,” she was told.

“Where to?” Came her next question.

“That I don’t know.”

“When will she be back?”

“I don’t know that, either.”

“She will be back, right?” Her face contorted to a scowl and her hands placed on her hips as she leaned forth. As authoritative as it was, she wouldn’t receive a definite answer.

“I can’t say.”

“Why not?”

My head swung and I exhaled. Disappointment wasn’t a desirable business, yet at times such things had to be delivered.

“Because I have no way of knowing what is going through her head, nor do I know whether or not she will decide to return. There’s a very real possibility that she won’t, and we will just have to accept that.”

“Well it’s not fair!” She spat fire and stamped her foot. “She didn’t tell me she was leaving! She didn’t offer to take me with her! She just left me here!”

All fair points, and none of which I could provide a solution for.

“Sometimes people do things without considering how their actions will affect others. While I’m sure she didn’t intend to disregard your feelings, I also can’t speak for her.”

If she truly believed that she didn’t care for others, then even if Tigershark crossed Remora’s mind, it wouldn’t mean anything to her. However, if I were to offer an alternate perspective, sooner or later, it would cross her mind, if it hadn’t already, and when it did, she would feel regret. Yet at the same time, she would not return. Why I would believe so was because I felt similar about my own daughter.

She probably thought something like, “crap, I forgot about Tigershark. Oh well, she’s much better off with Ray and Sunny, anyway. I was never fit to take care of another person. She deserves someone who can actually care about her.”

(side note: those would be her thoughts, not mine. Likewise, again, I have no way of knowing what her actual thoughts were, and that was just speculation on my part)

My own opinion was both that she was plenty fit, and that while I was flattered that she would “entrust” Tigershark to me, I really wished that I would be prepared to do so. No matter. It wasn’t like I wasn’t going to abandon her.

“Sunny’s still going to come back, right?” Tigershark pressed. That should have been an obvious answer.

“Yes. That’s just how Sunny is: she goes off for long periods, but always returns. That’s what I love about her.”

She beamed, but I could tell behind it that there was a longing. Her eyes darted from the room Demetria occupied first, then her head turned toward Remora’s. While it was a split second glance with both, it was noticeable all the same.

Days passed since the two dearly departed, and being lost in thought made my tea grow cold. At least it matched the climate. If I dumped it out, made a new pot, I would have felt it disrespectful to the tea, so I finished it off all the same.

There was a reason that the outside world went without description, even as my eyes fixated on the window and not the interior; a thick fog obscured the landscape, much like the fog on the windows. As of late, it appeared that fogs were more frequent. Poised with danger, yet no danger to be seen. Thicker than pea soup, one could cut through the fog with a knife and it wouldn’t dissipate one bit.

Much like how one could cut through the tension in a room when unspoken concerns lingered.

Ah, the tea cup turned empty. As empty as the diner. While there were occasional customers ever since Aurora became the diner’s advertiser, it would be all too understandable why no one would wish to enter when there were heavy fogs. Not to mention how difficult it would be to find the diner in such conditions.

At least it wasn’t total emptiness.

“I’m a pengu-plane! Brrrr!” Tigershark ran around the dining room with her penguin plush held over her head. I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Are you bored?” I asked.

She stopped and her shoes skid against the tile floor. Much like a race car having to slam the brakes and make an abrupt stop.

“Yeah! There’s more to do when other people are here!” She pumped her fist as she declared. On principle, I was inclined to agree.

“Indeed. Were the weather more fair, we could go on a walk or play outside,” such ideas, as nice as they were, did nothing in the present. What I needed to do was offer a solution.

“You could make something,” I suggested.

“Don’t wanna.”

“You could make food.”

“Are you hungry?” She asked in turn.

“Not right now, no.”

“Then I don’t wanna. I’m not hungry right now and there’s no one else to make food for.”

“You could read a book,” I lifted my index finger. At last I might have found something to ease her boredom. Eureka.

“What books are there?”

“Plenty. Textbooks in various subjects, classic literature, obscure literature, novels in several different languages, and a fair bit of pulp fiction.”

“How can I read a book if it’s in a language I don’t know?”

“You can start with a single word.”

“But what if I don’t know any words?”

“Ask me what a word means and I’ll tell you.”

“Hmm...I’ll try, but reading makes me sleepy.”

“That’s the best part, though, isn’t it?”

She ran off to the back without another word.

While reading could be quite the relaxing romp, it was at its core an exercise just as much as any other. Like running, one could read in short bursts and tire out, having expended energy trying to rush things. Or, one could take it slow and go longer, but that would require discipline and practice, and run the risk of collapsing mid-sentence and losing one’s place.

It wasn’t long before Tigershark came running back out.

“That was fast,” I noted.

She flailed her arms about and made fast gestures pointing toward the back of the diner.

“I started reading this book called L’Astree but I stopped because I couldn’t read it, so I went into Remora’s room and her rifle is still behind the bed!”

It’s no longer her room if she no longer lives here. You do know that, right? I could have said if I didn’t know better. Whatever hope she may have, I wouldn’t want to snatch that away from her.

“How careless of her,” I smiled and pat her head as I lifted myself out from my seat. “We should keep it safe so it’s still here when she comes back.”

Her face lit up. How careless of me as well.

“She’s coming back?!” Her mouth was a compromise between a grin and a mouth open wide look of surprise. I shook my head.

“Sorry, I mistook. Maybe I’m hoping she will as well.”

As I strode toward the back, I expected Tigershark to follow behind, but she soon darted into the kitchen. Perhaps she began to get hungry after all, or wished to craft a snack. Or it could have been that she was afraid of the weapon itself. Although she never was big on fear, either possibility seemed likely.

Through the sterile halls was the unassuming white door, left ajar. Darkness surrounded the small room. Cold and dark, that was how she saw the world, wasn’t it? For what it was worth, I felt the dark.

I flipped the light switch, but the bulb must have long since burnt out.

We ought to get a lamp in here. Or just a new flashbulb.

Rather than a chill to accompany the darkness, there was a profound warmth. Suffocating in its warmth, in fact. She always did turn the central heater on so high, despite how little good it seemed to do. Behind the bed, indeed, was the rifle, but there was also a space heater.

Now that is a fire hazard. Why didn’t I notice this sooner?

That would have to be another thing to move elsewhere. I unplugged it, of course. There was a central heater for that already. Anything more was just overkill.

Sheesh, I can only imagine how uncomfortable Tigershark was.

So many blankets piled on the bed and a couple of them on the floor, alongside the sleeping bag.

Did she ever wash those sheets? Even if she did, I suppose they could use another wash.

Before I grabbed hold of the rifle, I paused.

“You know, if I close my eyes, it’s like you’re still here with us,” and in fact, I closed my eyes. There was little indication that such a thing was true. Her voice didn’t ring in my head and the image of her was blurred. Still, after that momentary stillness, I said into the darkness, “silly, isn’t it? You’re gone, and I can’t hear your voice.”

That was it. I packed it up. Brought the space heater into the adjacent closet and carried the rifle upstairs. Past Sunny and I’s bed, past all the little knick-knacks and treasures, off in the back where the weapons Sunny had acquired over the years sat, or stood against the wall. On one end of the wall stood a rifle of my own, one which I hoped not to use in the foreseeable future. Her rifle was set against the opposite end of the wall.

“You’re in a better place now.”

After coming back down, I grabbed the bedding and placed it in the washing machine, scattered some homemade detergent, and let it rumble. In spite of the noise and the distance, my keen ears heard the front door open. My heart made a little pendulum swing against my chest, anticipating someone who wouldn’t show. Still, curiosity was a grisly beast, one who I was at the mercy of. It grabbed me and dragged me across the hall and through the door until I was back in the dining room. All the while, I maintained a steady breath.

Seated at a booth off to the right of the entrance to the diner was a woman with bright purple hair which had a slick sheen to it as it slid down to her lower back. She sat hunched over, one arm folded flat against the table and the other propped up by her elbow as her hand was tucked under her chin. She faced to the left, her gaze fixed forward. My eyes darted to what she might have been staring at, and when I saw nothing in particular of interest, I concluded that she too was staring at nothing in particular. That was until I saw the shift in her pupils, even as she didn’t move, and her eyes soon met mine.

She released her hand from under her chin and waved. I gave a short wave back, then broke out of my trance and approached her. As I did so, I noticed a sheathed sword hanging off from the side of her pants.

“Good day, welcome to my diner,” I spoke, soft and polite in my approach. At that, she looked up and smiled.

“Rather unassuming place, huh?” Her voice was deep and slow, but with a casualness to it, as if the whole thing was amusing. Maybe it was.

“I’m an unassuming person,” I replied.

“No assumptions? None at all?”

I shook my head and smiled.

“I prefer the term ‘inferences’. Now, my name is Ray. I’ll go bring you a menu. Would you like anything to drink?”

“Do you have any sake?”

I pondered. Not a usual request, but there was a small amount stored.

“We do. How would you like yours?”

“Hot. Please.”

“A warm drink to warm up the soul, I see. I’ll be right back,” I assured her, then began to walk away.

“Thank you, Ray.”

I went into the kitchen, where Tigershark sat while attempting to read a book. When I opened the hatch, she jumped up.

“Is someone here?” She gasped, all excited and hopeful for something else to do.

“Yes. If you would like, you can greet them and bring them a menu while I gather their drinks.”

“Yay! Teamwork!” She jumped and grinned.

After coming back up with a bottle and warming up a cup of sake, as well as filling a glass of water, I brought the two drinks out and watched as the excited young Tigershark and the mysterious purple lady conversed.

“Yeah, and one day, I’ll wrestle a shark!” Tigershark proclaimed.

“Oh my, a shark? You might want to be careful,” she humored her.

When the two saw me walk by with the drinks, Tigershark hurried and handed her the menu.

“I almost forgot! Here!” She bowed her head and handed the purple sword lady a menu.

“Thank you, Tigershark,” replied the mysterious customer. She began to look over the menu, but then set it down and lowered her head and a sudden look of worry flooded her face.

“Uh. Yeah. Excuse me. Is there a dollar menu? I already spent most of my cash just to get here.”

I snorted. It probably wasn’t as funny as intended, but I just never expected such a question.

“Don’t worry about the cost. I won’t charge you,” I smiled and shook my head.

“But Ray, putting everything on the house isn’t good for business!” Tigershark balked.

“Yes, I realize that, but at this point, we’re more of a home than a business. Maybe if we get more customers one day, I can worry more about money, but as it stands, I have plenty to get me by. Besides,” I turned my attention to the guest. “I’m more interested in who you are than how much money you have.”

She tilted her head and a sneering smile took form.

“Is that so? But I’m no one interesting. I was just referred here.”

Ah, it must have been Aurora who referred her. Still, there’s something about her, but if that’s all it is, then that solves one mystery.

“Nonsense. Everyone has something interesting about them.”

Rather than answer, she glared with a gaze which pierced into me like a spider’s venom. I sensed no malice, yet I felt the intensity seep through all the same.

“Do you happen to see people less as people and more as pieces in a puzzle?” She asked at last, and I didn’t know what to make of it.

Despite my mouth opening to speak, I found no words.

“Don’t worry if the answer is yes. Lately I’ve been thinking the same thing.”

Well, if I wasn’t intrigued before, I certainly was now.

“Anyway,” she added, “I’ll just have a steak and some rice.”

“Right away! I’ll make the best steak and the best rice you’ve ever had!” Tigershark declared, then ran off into the kitchen.

“Shouldn’t you watch her?” Our guest addressed me.

“No need. She’s been at this for a while,” I assured her.

“How interesting,” she commented, then returned to her silent, yet pensive look.

“I’m going to sit off in the back and drink some tea, but if you need me, just give me a holler.”

“Thank you, Ray.”

Of course, I didn’t make it all the way to my seat when the door slammed open, almost torn from its hinges. One of those ‘one thing after another’ days when all the people seemed to fall into place.

“Hey Ray! Rev up those fryers! I got a rumbly in my tummy!” Boomed the boisterous voice of none other than Aurora B.

“Yes ma’am, right away, ma’am,” I groaned in a dull voice. Out of all the folks who could have entered, it just had to be her.

“Now there’s a face I haven’t seen in years,” remarked our purple haired guest. I stopped dead in my tracks. Did she say ‘years’?

Aurora turned to the guest and blinked.

“Have we met?” Aurora’s voice lowered, almost timid and visible confusion written on her face.

“You could say that,” came the cryptic words.

“I doubt I’d forget a face as pretty as yours.”

“Them’s flirtin’ words,” our guest imitated a gruff voice through grit teeth.

“Um, why are you talking like that?”

“This diner ain’t big enough for the both of us,” and it then became apparent that what she was trying to imitate was one of those old spaghetti western movies.

“Ray! She’s scaring me!” Aurora whined.

“Okay, seriously: who are you?” I couldn’t take it anymore.

“As I said, I was referred here,” our guest replied, rather than give a name.

“Yes, but what is your name?”

She shrugged her shoulders, then looked up in wonder.

“Hundreds of years ago, in another universe, I was known as Wendy Day. There’s a few people in Chicago who call me that as well. Recently, I told someone my name from a past life, although that was a fabrication. I am neither a gentle breeze, nor a still water. If you wanted, you could all me whatever you wanted. I find that names don’t matter, and it’s who you are as a person that matters more.”

“All right, Wendy,” I was grateful to be given a name, any name. “However, I disagree. Without a name, you may as well not have an identity. Unless the lack of identity is in of itself an identity.”

“Really, now? What’s the name of this diner? I didn’t see one when I entered.”

Damn. She got me there.

“In my case, the lack of identity is the identity. It allows a certain degree of obscurity, you see. If others do find out about this place, it’s like a hidden treasure. Although, I did tell somebody’s mother the other day that the diner was known as the Remora’s Full Diner.”

“Ironic. This place has no remoras, and it’s not very full.”

If you had shown up just a week prior, there would have been a Remora.

“Well, what about you, windy day?”

She shrugged.

“It’s more accurate than a gentle breeze. Speaking of Remoras...where is she?” Wendy asked, and that was when I froze. Goosepimples cropped up all over the field that was my skin, and I shivered. Once I regained composure, I told her.

“She left. Had a breakdown of sorts and felt the need to leave.”

“Doesn’t surprise me. She’s the type to go ‘therapy for thee, but not for me’.”

“I take it you know her?”

“In a sense. I know her about as well as I know a Clara Waters, or a Claire Skye, a Mira Image, or even a Rhea Flection.”

“What’s up with all these stupid names?” Aurora scoffed.

“I don’t know, you tell me, Aurora Borealis,” Wendy shot right back.

“Okay, first of all, how dare you?”

There was no second of all.

I sat down at the booth behind Wendy. Aurora sat at the same table as Wendy, across from her.

“I met Remora about a couple months ago. Along with Sunny and Demetria. Sunny didn’t give me such a warm welcome, for some reason she tried to kill me. So I roughed her up a little and sent her back home. There was something Sunny said, however, that got to me. She said, ‘Rhea? Is that you?’ And as I said, names mean nothing, but it was the context, y’know? Maybe it was the color of my hair, or the mannerism in which I spoke, but it was like she knew of someone else that I knew of.”

“Ah, so you’re the one who stabbed my wife’s knee and made it so that she had to use a cane for a while,” I pieced together.

“Ha! Yeah! Is she around?”

“No, and neither is Demetria.”

“Damn. Why are all the women leaving you, Ray?”

I shrugged.

“Don’t worry, Ray! I still come for the food!” Aurora boasted.

“Gee, is that all I’m good for?” I balked.

“Nah, Tigershark makes the food! She just happens to cook it at your place!”

Wendy took a sip of her sake, then looked up.

“Anyway, I got to thinking about how there was a request to kill me in the first place. Someone wants me dead, someone who knows about me. The question is, who and why? If it was a request on behalf of the company I left, I would have understood, as they didn’t take kindly to those who chose to quit. But the request didn’t come from the company, and the one who carried it out didn’t know who I was, but also knew who a certain co-worker of mine was.”

“I think I ought to explain that as well,” I interjected. “Anonymous requests occasionally come in to the diner, and my wife and I tend to solve them for a cash reward. Usually we don’t get requests to kill others, but my wife thought it wouldn’t be so bad, since it said you went around killing people.”

“So you don’t know who it was, either? That’s dangerous.”

“We haven’t had a problem with it in the past, but after Remora showed up, more strange things have happened.”

“Ah...my other point: Remora, or Rhea Alter, if you want to call her that. She exists because another Rhea died. Not to mention, all these things that started happening once Remora came to this world. The fact that Sunny didn’t know who I was, but knew who Rhea was...there’s a few ideas of why I was targeted, but one possibility could be that it wasn’t me that this person wanted dead, but Sunny.”

“Why would they use you to do that?”

“That I don’t know. It could be the association with Remora. Either way, why they didn’t want to kill me or Sunny themselves is another question.”

“It could be that they’re too weak to do so,” I suggested.

“That is one possibility.”

I thought it over. All the events that had transpired, some of the things out of the ordinary. What we had to face, both alone, and as a group.

“When I first met Remora, there was this huge beast that emerged from a mountain. The thing is, that mountain didn’t exist prior to that day. It was easily taken down, but the fact remains that it didn’t belong. Then, there were these beasts, much more powerful, and they looked like mutated mixtures of wolves, bears, grasshoppers, and sabertooth tigers. There were also illusions of penguins which would fade into shadow. Then, there’s the two crucial instances.”

“Which are?”

“When Demetria took on a mission to investigate a mansion, she apparently encountered a man who called himself Cronus, and he said he wanted to lure Rhea there. There was also apparently a creature there composed of various limbs and appendages which made people lose their sense of self and devoured them. Second instance was in a cave, where a man named Buddy Fairweather had strange powers and could control those mutant beasts. After he died, we saw no more of the beasts. We thought it was over. Remora wasn’t so sure, but there hasn’t been any activity since. So maybe the horrors are over.”

“That certainly is...something. Don’t know what to make of it, but it may all be connected.”

“Hey, I hate to be ‘that guy’, but I literally have no idea what either are you are talking about,” Aurora butted in.

“Don’t worry about it. Sometimes it’s better to be out of the loop,” Wendy replied.

“So how do you know me, anyway?”

“Same way I know of Rhea: I worked for the same company as her, as well as an alternate version of you.”

Aurora burst into laughter.

“Hun, I think your drink’s gone to your head.”

“Not yet, it hasn’t. You don’t have to believe me, but that’s the explanation.”

Now it was my turn. I decided to tease Wendy a little.

“Did this company have a name?”

“As far as most of us were concerned, no. In fact, most probably believed it was a nameless group. Officially, though, it was called the Custodian League of Interdimensional Technicians, or CLIT, for short. Probably best to pretend it doesn’t have a name.”

It was too late, however. The knowledge was already out there.

“Okay, I’ll humor you: was the other me good with the CLIT?”

“The best.”

Tigershark soon brought out Wendy and Aurora’s meals. Both of them were heavy meat eaters, it seemed. No shame, just an observation. As the two ate, we continued to converse. That all got interrupted when the door opened and three people crashed in, all bloodied and bruised, torn clothing. Two middle aged men, one middle aged woman, all in tattered clothing. They gave a collective groan and struggled to their feet.

I got up at once and helped one of the middle aged men up.

“What happened?!” I demanded, a shrill urgency overtook me. Wendy stood up as well and helped the other two. We brought them to a nearby table. They all shivered and shook their heads, inconsolable.

“Wendy, in the back there’s some weighted blankets in the closet! Grab them!”

She nodded and hurried back there.

“Did an animal do this? Was it a blizzard?” I tried to coax it out of them.

They shook their heads. Then, the middle aged woman spoke:

“We’re here on vacation. We wanted to explore the area, but then this fog appeared and we couldn’t see anything. We tried to make it back to our hotel, but were lost. Soon shadows appeared and they looked demonic. They clawed at us, but as far as we knew, it didn’t have a physical shape.”

I looked outside. All I could see was a gray blanket. No dancing shadows, nothing like that. But the damage was still real enough.

Is something starting up again? Is it a hallucination? I can only hope for the latter, but I fear for the former.

“Aurora!” I barked.

“Yeah?”

“When you got here, did you notice the fog or any shadows?”

She put her hand on her chin and looked lost in thought. I snapped my fingers.

“Quick. Quick.”

From that, she scowled.

“No one orders me around unless I order them to!” She growled.

“This is serious right now,” I then turned to sigh, even plead, “just help me out, okay?”

“There was a fog, sure. But we pretty much got your diner on GPS, so it didn’t bother us none.”

Should I let them be? Or would her and her crew be in danger as well? I didn’t know the answer. There were too many unknowns at the moment and little was being cleared up.

When Wendy came back, she set two weighted blankets on the guests. I then interrogated her.

“What about you? Was there a fog? Were there shadows?”

“Yes,�� her tone was much more serious than when she first entered. “I figured they were animals, or a trick of the eye. Some seemed to be trying to attack me, but I blocked any ‘attack’. Or rather, what I blocked wasn’t the attack, but their approach. They looked to be afraid of my blade, and backed off.”

“Why would that…?” My head spun. Everything did.

“Because, it may not look it, but my blade ain’t no ordinary blade,” she flashed a smile as she pulled it out. It was long, probably a little over a meter long, but that didn’t quite explain anything. “It’s infused with a special property. Acts as a sort of repellent for cosmic entities.”

“Cosmic entities...Remora suspected that was what the deal was in the mansion, but she later concluded it wasn’t the case.”

“No offense, but Remora is dumb. So was Rhea. Scratch that, they were smart. Wise, even, but they were also dumb. They had flashes of intelligence and wisdom, but lacked self-awareness and emotional maturity. Too literal minded.”

“Okay, but was that roast really necessary? We’ve got other issues right now.”

“That’s what I’m trying to say: whatever you’ve been dealing with before, it hasn’t gone away. Only changed its appearance.”

I put my palm over my forehead.

“So that blade of yours can harm cosmic entities?”

“Hell no. Nothing can. They’re called many things, angels, celestials, gods, but one thing’s for sure: they can’t die. They’re pretty much like a bogeyman for people in the know because despite their supposed destructive nature, the chances of one actually being the issue are more than one in a million. My blade cannot harm one any more than wishful thinking could. What it does harm is byproducts of them, which anything can harm, but few things can kill a byproduct. If left to sit, it will just regenerate. The only problem is that an infinite amount of creations can spawn from a single celestial, so really, all I’d be doing is repelling the few that I can.”

“So this is what we’re dealing with. Great.”

“Yes and no. I still think a person’s involved. But this is good. At least I have some idea of what this enemy is capable of.”

“That’s all well and good, but how this get resolved if one of those things is here?”

“There are a few options, and it all depends on what’s actually going on: if the entity itself is here, we have to find a way to get it to leave. If a person is possessed by one, then we either have to kill the person being possessed, or we have to find a way to rid the person of their possession.

“None of those things are possible right now…” I seethed. Out of all the things to happen, it just had to be something I wasn’t prepared for. While I wasn’t ready to believe in the existence of some space angels, the fact of the matter was that something was going on, something I didn’t understand. Were the circumstances different, I would have been eager, no, excited, at the prospect of something supernatural.

“You three,” I addressed the afflicted. “What are your names?”

“Hank.”

“I’m Orson.”

“Marjorie.”

I took note of their names.

“Hank, Orson, Marjorie, I do not know what the conditions are outside, nor do I know when they will clear up. I can’t promise that things will get better,” I gulped after uttering such words, a pit formed in my stomach.

“But our stuff!” Complained Marjorie.

“What’s more important?” I lifted my glasses and hissed out the question. “Your belongings, or your lives?”

They all fell silent.

“What I can promise is this: while you three are in my care, I will do everything in my power to keep you all safe and ensure your survival.”

“If you can even do that much,” Wendy chimed in. I scowled at her.

“I don’t know what I can and can’t do yet. I don’t even know what we’re dealing with here!”

“I told you, didn’t I? The byproduct of –” I didn’t let her finish.

“These folks are normal people. They’re not just going to believe it’s some otherworldly beings!”

“They were demons!” Marjorie wailed.

It seems I stood corrected.

Fine. They’re demons. Call it what you want.

I walked back into the kitchen. Tigershark stood on a stool and looked out from the small window.

“Do we have customers?” She asked.

“No. Refugees. We’re going to give them a nice meal, we’re going to let them rest here as long as they need to.”

“Are they going to live here?”

“They might. Temporarily. I don’t know yet.”

“What’s going on? Why are they refugees?”

“The weather’s bad. That’s all.”

That’s all I wanted it to be. Bad weather. One short, strange occurrence. She didn’t deserve to be stuck here, nor did those folks. Maybe nobody did. But nature nary cared for what others deserved.

I went back out into a kitchen and approached the guests’ table.

“Our head chef is cooking up a meal for you folks. We’ve got a couple of rooms in the back you can stay in. I’ll tidy them up for you.”

They nodded, accepting of their predicament.

I looked around. Wendy was right beside me. Aurora, however, was nowhere to be found.

I bet she’s back on the train with the rest of her crew. Maybe they’ve already left the diner. Maybe they’re safe in their train.

On the contrary, Aurora arrived back inside. Her face didn’t carry the same party going devil-may-care energy that she usually held. Before she already spoke, I knew the news wasn’t good.

“Bad news: our train won’t start up. Engine’s busted up,” she informed me.

“From what?” I was incredulous and gasping for air.

“Hell do I know?! Fact is, we can’t move.”

Great. One more thing to add to the list of complications. As if I needed any more.

“Not at all?” I was desperate. Not for them to leave, but so I could avoid the alternative.

“Look, chief, I may be strong, but I’m not Godzilla strong. I can’t just push a train with my bare hands.”

My mouth dried up and I sucked in for any form of moisture as a sour taste filled the inner walls.

“Fine. Can you and your crew continue to occupy your train?”

“Yeah. Of course. We’ve had situations like this before. We’ll freeze our asses off and we’ll have to ration our food, but we can do it.”

That’s probably what I’m going to have to do too.

“If it comes down to it, you and your crew can share food with us.”

I checked out the window; her train was nowhere to be seen.

“Where did you park the train?” I asked.

“Off to the side. And I didn’t park nothing, it was all thanks to Allison.”

“Tell her she has my thanks.”

“You have my thanks too.”

Can you believe it’s not winter? Because I feel like we’re in for a long winter.

After a few days, the conditions didn’t get any better. Two more strangers entered the diner to take refuge, each with their own set of wounds. Wendy had stayed around to help out, no questions asked. However, when I came to a partial solution, questions were asked.

I sat hunched over at my desk, head under my hands.

“This is just the start, isn’t it?” I asked, fearing that I already knew the answer.

“It could very well be.”

“When were you planning to go back home, by the way?”

“Are you kidding? I’m a homeless old bat. I came here so I could see about making this place my home.”

You’re younger than me. What right do you have to call yourself an old bat?

“Of course. There’s always a catch, isn’t there?”

“Well, things went south in Chicago and I’m a bit of a drifter, anyway. I’ve never liked staying in one place too long. It’s just how I am. So when Remora referred me to your place, I wasn’t planning on visiting, but after some thought and some trouble with the po-po, I figured it was worth a shot.”

So it was Remora who referred Wendy here. More information I wish I had.

“You think she was planning to leave all along?” I pondered.

“Who knows? It’s hard to tell what’s going through her head.”

“That’s true enough. Often times I thought I had her figured out, only for her to say or do something way out of left field.”

“I know she’s pretty weird, but you also can’t just narrow people down to a formula.”

Yes. But if I could just sort people out, it would save a world of trouble. All I knew was that I didn’t want Sunny to be involved in this mess. So I began texting her:

Me: I think you should stay away from the diner for a while.

It didn’t take long for Sunny to answer. Wherever she was adventuring, it must have had good reception.

Sunny: I was thinking I’d be gone a while anyway, but what’s up?! Why say this all of a sudden?

Me: It’s not safe right now.

Sunny: Is it ever?

Steam boiled over my head and I felt a fever rise in me. Movements of my fingers turned frantic.

Me: I can’t explain, but you’ll just get hurt.

Sunny: Why can’t you explain?

Me: Because I don’t know what’s going on. Everyone’s getting hurt with no explanation. If I had one, I’d tell you. Don’t think that I wouldn’t. It’s no animal. No beast. Nothing but shadow. There’s a thick fog that won’t let up. That’s all I know.

Sunny: Got it.

Me: Thank goodness.

Sunny: I’ll come back as soon as I can! It might take a couple months, but it’s clear I should hurry back right away!

Me: …

Me: What?

Sunny: Don’t you trust me enough to let me get hurt? I live for the thrill, so why should I let a few scratches get to me?

Yes, I knew her. Yes, I trusted her. But that was beside the point. It might have amounted to a few scratches, or it might have meant her life. Whatever peril she got in elsewhere, that was up to her, but she didn’t need to put herself in peril when the peril was at home.

After a bit of contemplation, I gave in.

Me: Just tell me when you get here, okay? I don’t know how you’ll make it, either. Cybele won’t be around.

Sunny: I’ll find a way >:)

I should have known better. There was no way I could have kept her away. Even though it was danger that led to the decision to keep our daughter away from us. For the first time in over six years, I agreed with such a decision.

I should call her. I certainly can’t see her. Not now, not even if she wanted me to. But maybe we could still talk.

“Wendy, I’ve got a job for you,” I announced.

“Will you pay me? I don’t work for free,” she informed me, as if I really wouldn’t pay her.

“Yeah. Of course. I’m not made of money, but I’ve got enough to last several lifetimes, so I have no problem parting with it.”

“Good. I’m going to make you my cow and I’m going to milk you for all you’re worth.”

Couldn’t you have picked a different phrase? I dismissed her statement, however, for the request of my own.

“I would like you to see if you can escort some of these refugees to the airport. If they can catch a flight to some place safer, it would put us in less of a bind.”

“That could work. Just know that I can’t guard large groups. Three max.”

“Understood. Whatever you can do.”

“Also, it may mitigate some of the crowd, but keep in mind that there will be a crowd. I don’t see this going away any time soon.”

How long is not any time soon?

“Anything that will help, I’ll take, however small.”

She grinned at that. I wished that I could smile back, but I found little joy in such a predicament. All I wanted was to avoid casualties. If I could do that, it would be enough.

“One more thing,” I added, “my wife will probably be back in a couple months. When she arrives, I would like it if you could escort her here. No matter how strong she is, I don’t want to see her too bloodied up.”

“Oh good. For a second there I thought you did.”

Ha. I couldn’t laugh. She took the hint and her smile shrunk.

“Anyway, I’ll make preparations and take those folks there right away.”

She left. Not a moment’s hesitation.

I stared forward in silence and reached for my phone once more. First thing’s first, a call. After a few rings, she picked up:

“Hello?” Cybele answered.

“Cybele,” I greeted right back.

“Yes?”

“You know how I haven’t had you go on any flights lately?”

“Yeah?”

“I want you to go on one.”

“Oh boy!” She perked up. “Who am I taking?”

“Yourself. I want you to go home.”

“What? But this is my home. I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Find a new home. Fly somewhere. Anywhere. Buy a home. I don’t care how you do it. I just want you to leave this place.”

“Wha...wha…” She began to get choked up. I heard her struggle to form the word, the one she wanted to ask: why?

I too wanted to sigh, to cry, to pause and try to find the words to reassure her, but I just couldn’t manage to do any of those things.

“Goodbye,” was all I said instead, all I could say, even when there was much more that I should have. After that, I hung up.

Before contacting the next person I had in mind, I ran my hand through my hair and drew heavy breaths.

At least let me have one positive interaction.

Me: Is Elodie around?

Violette: Yeah, we just got done eating dinner. Wanna talk to her?

Me: Only if she’ll let me.

Violette: She said it’s okay. Here’s her number.

I dialed at once. Considering how strange it must have been for me to want to talk with her out of the blue, I found it stranger still that she would allow me.

“What is it now?” Her irritation shone through in her voice, soon to give way to hostility. I welcomed that tone of her voice just as I would any other tone of hers.

Please, let me fake just a little bit of happiness. Even if it’s an imitation, let me be my happier self.

“How old are you now? 13?” I chirped, and allowed myself to smile, even though my muscles tensed upon doing so.

“What does it matter to you?”

“I was just thinking of getting you a birthday card.” That wasn’t a lie, I had considered it. Whether or not it was likely with the current condition outside, I couldn’t say.

“If it’s from you, I’ll just throw it away.”

“That’s fine. Do with it what you want. You’re not really supposed to hold on to them for very long, anyway.”

There was a lapse, then her voice turned to incredulity.

“...Really?”

“Yeah. When my parents used to get me birthday cards, I’d throw them away right away. All I really cared about was the money that was inside.”

“So you’re saying you’re going to send me money?”

“If you want,” my voice nonchalant.

“...I’d rather take money from anyone other than you.”

“That’s fine, too. It was just an idea.”

“Even if you sent me something nice, so what? That still doesn’t make up for those lost years!” She pointed out.

“Honey, nothing can make up for that.”

“Exactly! So send whatever you want, I’ll spit on it, burn it, and then flush it down the toilet.”

My, how creative. Oh, to be youthful again.

“Are you having a bad day?” I asked, something which may not have been called for, as her anger was more than justified.

“Yeah. Of course I am. You called. How come it’s always a bad day when you call?”

That was a good question. I wish I knew the answer to that as well. Why I couldn’t just call during a joyous day, or even a mundane one. Then again, she probably mean that it was a bad day because I called.

“Because I don’t call often, and when I do, something bad is bound to occur,” I answered in earnest, unknowing if that was the true answer.

“One of my paintings got destroyed today. Some kids snatched it from me and ripped it up. I probably would’ve had a good day after I got home, I mean, I was ready to forget about the whole thing. Who cares about a stupid painting, anyway? I can just make another. But then you called and this is why I can’t have nice things.”

“I can’t undo the call, but we can stop talking if you want,” I offered.

“You can’t undo the call, nor can you undo the silence you and mom gave me for years. Just dropped me off, no explanation, and I’m supposed to be cool with that?”

“No. You aren’t,” my voice turned back to the darker flare, reflecting the stress brought on by the predicament I was in. Yet I resisted. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry a thousand times over. But you and I both know that sorry doesn’t mean anything when there’s nothing to make up for it. Actions speak louder than words, and I have neither actions nor words.”

“So why bother?”

Good question.

“It’s simple: just because I wanted to hear your voice.”

“That’s it? You must have seen this coming.”

Last time we talked, the first time in six years, I got off easy. Really, I had this coming, and I should have seen it if I didn’t.

“That doesn’t matter to me. You can be angry. You can hate me. If you wanted, you could call me every time you had a bad day, every time you were angry, and it doesn’t matter what the reason is. I won’t argue. I’ll just listen.”

“You really think I would do something stupid like that?” She laughed, but it was choked up through her tears. No longer angry, now grief stricken.

“I can’t say. I’m only offering it to you as an option. No matter the time of day, whether I’m busy or sleeping, I’ll pick up and you can shout out whatever comes to mind.”

“You’re exaggerating,” she scoffed.

“Maybe I am. Do you have any tissues nearby?”

“Yeah.”

“You should blow your nose. Wipe your eyes. If you start to develop a headache, take a benadryl. It’s almost time for you to sleep, anyway. That shit’ll knock you right out.”

She snorted out a small laugh.

“Thanks,” she said at last.

“Well, yeah. I’m not gonna blow your nose for ya.”

She laughed again, then fluttered down into a calm.

“Dad?” She asked.

“Yeah?”

“I hate you.”

I smiled. It was the closest to a genuine smile I could muster.

“Goodnight, dear,” I replied.

“Okay,” she said her last word in a soft and tired voice, then hung up.

Somehow, I enjoyed that.

Two months passed and Sunny returned, in peak Sunny condition. If only the fog would have subsided. If only I wasn’t busy taking care of the injured and the afflicted.

“That was surreal…” Were her first words upon entering the diner. If it could still be called that.

I stood up, having bent down to bandage up a couple of new entrants.

“Which part?” I asked.

It didn’t occur to either of us that we had yet to greet each other. Or, our greeting to each other wasn’t a greeting at all.

“All of it. When I heard there was a thick fog, I wasn’t expecting marshmallow hell. Not to mention, being escorted by the one who made me use a cane for a couple of weeks.”

“Hey!” Wendy snapped her fingers. “You’re the one who tried to kill me in the first place.”

“Let’s just chalk it up to a big misunderstanding,” Sunny chortled before looking away, distant. “It was like I could hear voices of the dead out there…”

“Voices from the dead?” I asked.

“I don’t know how else to explain it.”

“Welcome to my world.”

She then grinned and wrapped her arms around me, a brief respite, if any.

“I missed you!” She declared and squeezed tighter.

“There’s not much left of me,” I looked down and muttered.

She let go, then looked around the dining room.

“Where’s Remora? Demetria? You’d think they’d be helping out.”

“They both left.”

“What? Together?”

“No. But they left, all the same.”

“Damn it! Now I wish I didn’t go on my trip!” Her disappointment seemed paper thin, what with the perpetual grin she had.

“It wouldn’t have done you any good.”

“Still, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” This time her grin faded and she looked more like a sad kitten.

“If I told you, you would have wanted to come back right away. I wanted you to enjoy yourself.”

“Yeah…” She looked down and off to the side, unable to deny such a statement.

“Anyway, I’ll fill you in later. Get yourself something to eat, shower, relax. There’s not going to be a lot of time for that any time soon.”

“Hun?” She turned to a slight smile. “We’ll get through this together, okay?”

I had no answer to that.

In the coming days, she came to feel the weight I carried and carried it with me. We worked our asses off, tried to put on a smile through the stress. She more hopeful than I. For what it was worth, we got through each day. Together.

But I still had that lingering feeling, like it was only a matter of time.

Even Tigershark buckled under the pressure. Many meals, one after another. It was like we were operating an actual restaurant, but the circumstances were much more dire, and none of us were getting paid.

“Hey Ray, can I go outside?” Tigershark asked when there was some downtime between meals.

“Absolutely not,” I told her, and although I was serious, I kept a light tone to it. “You’re strong, and I need your strength here because I am but a fragile penguin man.”

She laughed and stuck her thumb up.

“You got it!”

I went into the back of the diner, Sunny was there with her arms crossed and blowing some bubblegum.

“How are you holding up?” I asked.

“Great! It’s just like when we used to have a thriving diner, only now there’s a sense of impending doom!”

“Heh. That’s the spirit.”

I sat down and tapped a pen against the desk.

“I doubt Remora will ever be back,” I mentioned offhand. “Even if she’s still alive and well somewhere out there, there’s no way to contact her.”

“You think she’s dead?” Sunny gasped.

I reached into one of the desk drawers and pulled out a phone.

“I don’t know one way or the other. She left her phone here, so it’s not like I can send her a message.”

“What would you even say?” She wondered.

“I’d tell her to stay away,” my face sunk and I spoke with a guttural grimness. “Just as I would have preferred you, or anyone else, do.”

“Why?”

“Do you really have to ask? You already experienced it. ‘Voices of the dead’ and all that. If I was alone, I could get by. I might have even gotten a chuckle out of it. But all these people are affected and their lives are in my hands. I want to keep everyone alive, and if I can’t do that, then at least reduce the damage for as long as possible.”

Reduce damages. Casualties.

“I’m going to send Demetria a message. Considering coming back here’s the last thing on her mind, she’ll probably take me at my word and keep away.”

Sunny’s face sunk, her posture as well.

“I don’t like this...but it’s probably for the best. This won’t be forever, anyway, right?”

“I wish I knew.”

There was a fog outside, and there was a fog inside as well. Both sought to consume me.

[athina-blaine]

Martin goes and gets himself stabbed. It's inconvenient.

For @thesmallestzita.

Chapters: 1/1 [Complete]

Words: 1,774

Tags: Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Season 1, Pre-Relationship, Canon-Typical Violence

Martin tripped over a stray soda can and the pain in his side flared. Hissing through his teeth, he pressed his hand deeper over the wound, taking a moment to collect himself, before continuing to shamble down the rain slicked pavement.

He takes some initiative for once, and this is what happens. Typical. The others weren’t going to let him hear the end of this. Especially not Jon.

Martin hoped Jon never found out about this. He’d die of embarrassment, first. Martin was walking a tight rope after the disastrous Rentoul follow up, as it were. There’s no telling what Jon would do if he knew Martin had to go and get himself bloody stabbed, all the while following up a case that had already been closed.

He pulled his mind back to the task at hand; get to hospital. It was more difficult due to the fact that every lone piece of rubbish seemed determined to get under his feet and trip him up. It didn’t help that his legs moved like they were fast filling with lead, heavy and sluggish.

It’s amazing, sometimes, the things you take for granted. Martin walked every day. He was pretty good at it, he thought. But, now, it took everything he had just to put one foot in front of the other.

The pavement swam before his eyes, the neon lights bouncing off rain puddles in a hypnotic display. It made him queasy. He had to lean against a brick wall. Just a short break, to catch his breath. Not for long.

This was harder than he’d thought it would be. His GPS said the hospital had only been a twenty-minute walk, but he feels as if he’d been going and going for hours.

God, he was such a moron. What had he been thinking? Skulking around the site of paranormal nonsense with no backup and no one knowing where he was. He had just wanted to know more about the fate of Carlos Vittery, and, maybe, uncover something that was missed the first time. Something that would impress Jon.

He hadn’t known someone was there. He wouldn’t have gone in if he had known that.

The woman had dark hair, filthy and caked with a thick, flaky secretion and when she had turned, she had … holes, in her face. And the bugs …

So distracted by the silvery worms, he hadn’t had time to react when the woman lunged with a rusty razor, slicing clean through just under his ribs.

“It’s okay,” she had whispered. “You don’t want to be here for what comes next, anyway.”

Flooded with adrenaline, Martin had managed to sprint out of the basement, away from the woman and her burrowing worms without any further harm. It had to have been Jane Prentiss. Nothing else made sense. And nothing good could possibly come out of whatever was coming next.

He grimaced, pressing his hand into his side, slick with blood.

He wasn’t going to make it.

He helplessly slid down the wall. No. No, this was bad. He can’t lie down. If he did, he didn’t think he’d be able to get back up.

Shit. Shit.

First things first, he had to tell someone about Prentiss. Someone had to know that she was planning something.

Pulling out his phone, he struggled to bring up his most recent conversations, fingers smearing blood onto the screen. Sasha. Sasha would know what to do.

He raised the phone to his ear, the streetlights swimming in and out of focus.

“Hello?”

Jon.

Martin’s eyes slid shut. Of course. His last text had been to Jon about the Popham follow up. Jon had said he had already finished recording the case and scolded Martin for being so late with his report. Tim and Sasha had had everything under control, anyway. Find someone else to bother.

He hadn't written that last part. Not out loud, anyway.

Through the phone, there was a familiar, irritated sigh and Martin blinked back to reality.

“I really hope this is important, Martin, I was rather in the middle of something.”

Martin swallowed, torn between, Oh, nothing, sorry to bother you, good night and, I’m dying and I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t tell you I love you so, so much.

The phone trembled in his hand and he gripped it as tightly as he could. If he dropped it, he wouldn’t have the strength to pick it back up again. Was he really going to bleed out here? In this dingy alley, in the middle of the night, in the rain? That would be … really bad …

“For God’s sake, Martin, I don’t have time for this.”

“S-sorry …” Have to tell him. Needs to know. “Jane …”

“Martin?” The bite in his voice fell away. “What’s happening? You sound—”

“Jane Prentiss …”

There was a pause, and then a sudden, violent clattering. “Where are you?”

“Um … I was just … Carlos Vittery …”

“Don’t move, I’m on my way. Stay on the phone. Martin? Martin?”

Ah. Now he’s went and gotten Jon all worked up.

“Sorry … tried to be useful …” He chuckled and it hurt. “Guess I should … know better by now …”

“Martin!”

At least he got to listen to Jon saying his name, like he was really worried about him or something. There were worse ways to go.

The phone slipped from his hand and everything fell away.

 Martin awoke, slowly, first to the sound of a mechanical beeping, and then, hurried footsteps and outraged shouts. The door swung open and his drowsy eyes slid over to the figures that stormed in. His vision was still blurry, and he couldn’t make out their faces, but he recognized one voice.

“—know the policies and if you think you have any right to stop me—”

An unfamiliar woman came in behind him, haggard and face lined with stress.

“Do you know this man, sir?” she said to Martin.

Martin blinked sleepily, eyes moving back to Jon. His hair was wilder and more unkempt than he’d ever seen it.

“Yeah," he said. "He’s my, uh … boss?”

Jon turned to the woman with a victorious smirk, but the woman was already backing out of the room.

“Just press the assist button if he’s bothering you,” she said, closing the door with a sharp click. Jon glared at the door, grumbling irritably under his breath. Martin opened his mouth, but a wave of nausea swept over him and his question was lost in a groan.

Jon snapped towards him, his irritation flipping to stark concern. Taking a deep breath, Martin tried again.

“Where am I?” he asked, faintly. “How did I get here?”

“Whittington Hospital. According to the nurse, a pedestrian saw you and called the paramedics.” Jon took a seat in the spare chair by his bedside, dropping his satchel by his side. His expression could have been cut from steel. “You are incredibly lucky.”

Martin squeezed his eyes closed. He certainly didn’t feel very lucky. Not with Jon looking so upset. He was still wearing the same soft, grey jumper from this morning, which means he had come here straight from the Institute, and for some reason that distressed Martin even more.

“How did you know where I was?”

“Obviously, the Carlos Vittery you mentioned was the same from case #0150409 and I figured you must have been near the Archway area. I’ve been trying all the hospitals nearby asking for a man of your description.”

What little energy Martin had drained out of him, and his head sank into the pillow.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Oh, and I suppose you’d rather have me twiddling my thumbs in the archives while you were dying?”

“Sorry ...”

Jon pressed his lips together and he looked to the side. The severity of his expression gentled, and he turned back to Martin, his eyes softening.

“Are you alright?”

Martin’s heart fluttered.

“Well,” he managed. “Not dead. That’s a good start.”

Jon nodded, and then hoisted up his satchel.

“You were in surgery for a while, so I went out and bought some food, considering the stuff in hospital is so abysmal.”

“Oh. That’s … nice of you.” Also, wildly unexpected, but Martin wasn't saying anything. Hospital food was, in fact, not the greatest.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so …” Jon dumped a truly outrageous amount of granola bars, yoghurt, and crisps onto the end table. Some spilled over and he quickly reached down to scoop them up. “Yeah.”

A chuckle worked its way through Martin’s chest. It hurt, a little, but the pain was soothed by the sight of Jon juggling Hot Flamin’ Cheetos.

“Slight overkill, don’t you think?”

Jon snapped open a bag of cheese puffs. “Good to know my efforts are appreciated.”

“They are! They are.” With a muffled grunt, Martin reached over and plucked up a bottle of orange juice. “See? Look how appreciative I’m being.”

Jon hummed, flicking a cheesy puffball into his mouth. They both sat in silence, Martin sipping his drink and Jon munching through his crisps.

It must have been the longest time the two of them had ever been alone together. Though they were both quiet, it was a comfortable sort of silence. Just two people existing alongside each other. Reassured by their presence.

Then, Jon took a deep breath.

“I had no idea what to make of your call,” he said, folding the plastic bag into a small square. “I thought you were … You …”

Martin bit his lip, not wanting anything to slip out. Swallowing, Jon lowered his head.

“You had me worried.” Finally, Jon looked back up at him. His mouth was his usual grim, disappointed line, but his eyes shone with dark emotion. “Please don’t do that again.”

Jon had been really upset, hadn't he? Martin didn’t know how to feel about that. Embarrassed, certainly. Guilty, for putting Jon through such an unnecessary ordeal. But also … nice.

He traced the lip of his empty orange juice bottle.

Yeah. He felt nice.

“Well, I don't really fancy dying, so I guess I'll do my best.”

A tiny smile quirked the corner Jon’s lips. Martin had only a moment to savour it, though, as it quickly slipped away as he pulled a pen and paper out of his satchel, and Martin mourned its loss. Jon opened his notebook.

“What happened at Carlos Vittery’s flat? You said you encountered Jane Prentiss, correct?”

Yes. Back to business.

Straightening up, Martin cleared his throat.

“Right. So, something about his case didn’t sit right with me, and I decided to go back and investigate some more. You know, observe my due diligence, and all that …”

[you-are-worth-the-wait]

man...typical get together when it comes to my auntie bernadette.  ordered waaay too much food.  8 adults total.  there was a full tray of crispy pata, shanghai lumpia, kare kare, sinigang, a desert dish, a tray of some kind of fish, pancit, chicken adobo, and maybe 1 or 2 extra things.  i know...overkill.  i didn’t even put a dent into it after coming from the gym and being hungry.  the backyard is amazing.  it’s so kewl.  it would be awesome if we just used it as a getaway for the weekend.  go and swim in the pool, relax in the jacuzzi, maybe utilize the place to make food and then just spend the day relaxing together and having our own outdoor picnic literally in “our own backyard” as yo ucan see is pretty awesome.  they leave this thursday and i’m kind of shame to ask for any access right away.  but he has reservations of turning over the keys to the people who are literally begging and letting it be known they want to “house sit” just for the fact that they may be able to utilize the place.  me, i’d just use it for the backyard.  i wouldn’t even have to do in the house.  my uncle is okay with that.  so i told him about maybe utilizing a lock box so technically he wouldn’t have to turn the keys over.  yeah, they’d still have access to the house anytime they wanted but at least i wouldn’t have to go through them just to go into the backyard.  we’ll see.  they plan on coming back again next month so i’ll prolly inquire more about it then.  

nope...no hair cut...it’s growing in wild...and it’s pretty crazy long...and awesome...*lol*  i mean, my dad hates it, my mom is indifferent or maybe likes it cuz my dad hates it :P  me, it’s getting long but i’m kinda okay with it.  i think i get looks and i can’t tell if it’s the good or bad kind.  hard to tell.  not like i ask the girls in the gym what they may be talking about when they keep looking over at me.  maybe it’s because i run in the serenity room?  but no one ever uses the treadmills in there.  and i run and do my own thing, don’t bother anyone, it’s prolly the “safest” place there since it’s tucked in the corner and not many people utilize the machines around me.  i figure as long as i don’t do anything stupid or harass anyone, i should be okay, right?...*ws*  i am curious as to how it will be when i start palying basketball again though.  

i don’t think i bothered to ask about smoking or drinking preference and i don’t think i bothered to look at that.  i just talk with whoever chooses to talk to me so the smoking thing did catch me off guard.  

did i sleep with her?  haha...what do you think? :P  i spent a total of maybe 2 hours or so with her.  i met her at 99 ranch because she needed to pick up kimchee supplies and other asian food items for her daughters.  we went to the boba place where she tried avocado and she was surprised that avocado could even be made into something sweet like that.  all she knew about was guacamole as a dip with chips.  we talked in the car and we never left the parking lot of 99 ranch and i only hung out with her for a couple of hours or so because i was supposed to do something with family and the way she scheduled coming into town, i had to kind of fit her in to my schedule since i had already made plans.  she knew that i wouldn’t be able to dedicate much of my day to her but she decided to come down anyway.  i felt really bad that i couldn’t spend more time with her.  i wonder where your curiousity and question stems from.  i only wonder because i wonder if it reflects the same reason why i may wonder that some question about you.  

yeah...it is unfortunate that my encounter didn’t necessarily have me wanting more or sparking that interest in me that i would have with others.  i was thinking about you trying to motivate me to try some more/again in reaching out to her and seeing if maybe what i’m feeling is incorrecet and maybe that i was passing judgement on her and my view on her too early or whatnot.  so then i started to think about how many “regrets” have i had in where maybe my intuition of “losing interest” may have been wrong and if i had nay regrets in not pursuing anything further with anyone.  i can’t count you and Taylor aas regrets because what happened was out of my control.  i didn’t end up with the ending that i wanted with her not because i made a mistake and regret it.  it was out of my control.  much as it is with you.  i may or may not have a chance with you.  but still, it’s not through any fault of my own or letting you go ir making the decision to not pursue you.  thinking about every person that i “lost interest” in and decided not to pursue, i actually can sleep at night and not necessarily lose a lot of sleep wondering “what if”.  sure i think about what could have been, but it’s not something i dwell about that keeps me up at night.  every girl i’ve “lost interest in”, i’m okay with having not pursued them any further and whatever happens in their lives, i’m not going to kick myself in saying i made the wrong decision.  there are maybe 3 girls i can say that i maybe i wish i had pursued but for one reason or another, i contiously chose not to.  and it’s not because i lost interest in them.  it’s because i never even got or took the chance with them.  for those reasons, i can look back and say that i regret not trying more/harder.  so whatever may happen with this girl in the near future or in the long run, a part of me is already okay with having let go and not necessarily feeling i need to pursue her any more in order to convince myself that i like/want/need her in my life.  if she still wants to pursue me, that’s a decision that i can’t/don’t want to make for her.  

yeah...that “excited feeling”...i totally feel that with you.  i still do.  we mainly communicated through snap so everytime my snap alerts me for a message from someone, for the slightest moment, my heart will beat a little faster, and i wonder if it could be you.  i try to keep myself grounded and try not to get too carried away but then there are days where i don’t chat with anyone and then my snap notification will sound and i get that excited/scared/random/anxious feeling again that it may be you.  and then i see who it’s from and i slowly have to calm back down and orient myself to reality.  truth...i sometimes can or can’t tell when you are calling from work.  there are a couple numbers i feel like i can recognize and some i don’t so i answer not knowing if i’m answering because it’s you who is calling.  sometimes i’m wondering and waiting for it to be an automated call or a tellemarketer.  i wonder what you would think of me if you sa my reaction every time i see a call coming in from a number i think may be you.  or like i said, when snap sends me a notification.  i can’t believe even after all this time, i still react that way.  but yeah...i don’t get that feeling of excitement from her the way i get in regards to you.  it’s nice to know that you understand what i’m saying since you feel that way about me and my messages/interactions with you.  i always told you that you were the highlight of my days.  my interactions with you, even though extremely limited, it makes me feel like i still have that chance with you.  it may be a fool’s logic/reasoning but it kind of makes me believe i still have a chance.  so trust me, there are girls i talk to who still have that chance of keeping my interest.  this girl does say a lot of great and amazing things and she is a very kewl person.  but as far as captivating me, keeping me interested, and wanting more...i’m not feeling it.  like you said, it’s not to say that i may not change my mind or she may be able to change my mind.  but as of right now, if we were to remain just friends, i would be able to move on with my life and say that i gave her a fair chance and i kept an open mind about things.  in the end, there was something/s that i couldn’t get past, and for that, it’s my lose, not hers, but i’m at peace with my choice.

[stinkyratshadowgod]

Crazy Storyline Apex Theory

(P.s: I’m reposting because Tumblr F*CKING ate my first post)

Okay in the trailer for the new event “Lost Treasures”, we see at the end that in Mila (in some way) spoke to Crypto through his drone, saying “Tae, it’s me. Be carefull! they’re watching you”. Naturally i was going to joke “Haha Mila is going to be the next Apex Legends next season lmao”. But then i stopped and thought more about it, and instead of making a joke, i decided to write a theory about why is that plausible and it’s going to be the next storyline (or maybe...this storyline)

Okay what do we know about Mila? Not much actually, she and Tae found a prediction algorithm that is directly related to the Apex Games (but we don’t know who made that and the real purpose), and then she saves it in a pen drive, leaves and is found “dead” next morning, with her brother being blamed as the killer

I know that this isn’t a lot to work with, but i think it’s enough to cook something. The name of my plate (aka theory) is “Apex is going to pull up a Winter Soldier and make Mila a brainwashed soldier (or expert Hacker) from Hammond”. You better enjoy it while it is still hot

1-Mila is still alive

Ok so why do i believe that? It’s because i believe that Mila is actually alive (even tho it’s a schrodinger cat paradox situation because shes alive and dead at the same at, and we will only know the real result when Respawn pulls her out of the “box”).

My evidences is that 1-The new trailer (lol) and 2-Shes actually pretty usefull: Shes a hacker, a good one, she was the one (with the help of Tae) to unlock the prediction programm, and she developed the system that unlock it (or at least had the knowledge that the system she found online would help unlock the algorithm). And because shes connected to the biggest hacker of the outlands, so perhaps they are going to use her to blackmail Crypto to stop going after the truth.

Respawn never explained how the brothers found the algorithm, but whatever the case is, if the sindicate would go out of their way to “eliminate” Mila and then go after her brother (but we know that this time they wanted for real kill Crypto) that must mean that the prediction algorithm must be really important, and we know why:

2-Season 4 (and the Override event)

Hammond had great interest in the Apex Games in the start of Season 4, and so they made a deal with the AG, and so Hammod brought us 1-Revenant (the best decision ever i love him but i better stop or else i will write a full essay on why i love Rev); 2-The evo shield (at least i headcannon that the evo shields are a Hammond creation in order to please the Legends), but in return they would build the planet harvester and do some promotion...it’s just me that thinks that a big company especialized in robotics (and titans) would only bring a harvester and do a propaganda to show that their hip and cool?

Even the harvester is a little weird, because: 1-The Apex Games takes ages after Titanfall 2 campaign (10 years i belive), and the war is over, so the need of building Titans wouldn’t be very necessary, yeah they can be used as heavy machinery in hazardous jobs, but the main use of the titans was military, and they already use MRVNS units to replace humans. I know that building robots and guns requires a lot of materials, but the harvester seems like a little bit of a overkill, also are we even sure that they are collecting materials for the robots? (which brings me to my next point)

2-What the heck is the planet harvester even harvesting?  By the looks of the big lazer, it looks like they are actually harvesting the core of the world edge’s planet (idk if it’s also sucking materials for robots and guns, but you never see pieces of scraps flying up with the lazer, and we don’t see a storage thing to store the minerals)

I believe the real reason that Hammond is so interested in the Apex Games is actually because of 2 mf’s: 1-Revenant (since he was killing all the Hammonds workers and those connected to the simulacrum project) and 2-Crypto, since hes the one going after their tail, and Hammond knows that Crypto has the actual powers to be a real problem to them, so they partner up with the Apex Games just to keep a closer eye to Tae Joon (and Revenant but who can blame them Rev is a real eye treat).

(Side point: While i was writting this theory, i remembered a critical point of the Override event...the rewards, the rewards you got when you gained points, and in the points reward’s menu, we see this:

At first we thought this was Rev doing, but when you think about, it doesn’t make a lot of sense since Revenant doesn’t give a crap about helping people, he just wants to kill (go you, you funky lil robot), and when you think more about it, hes couldn’t pull that off since hes not a computer specialist. The only character that could this is Crypto, but Tae A)Already knows that Hammond cannot be trusted or B)He coudn’t have predicted the partnership. My point is, Crypto also didn’t left the message (cuz it would be weird leaving a message about something that seems obivious to yourself). So the only one remaining is...Mila Mila is somewhere in the Outlands (maybe she escaped or she sneakily sended the message through the place she is being held) sending messages to Crypto.

2.5-The bunkers

You know whats weirder than The Planet Harvester? The underground holes (bunker? vaults? Its hard to use these words since they’re already taken) introduced in Season 5. In the trailer they looked like bunkers that you could open at any moment (like a trapdoor). In the release of season 5 the first thing i saw youtubers do is try to open the bunkers, they failed, and then they tried to use Loba (and they would usually fail and fall to their death, which was funny content). So i thought “Okay, maybe it’s going to be like Fortnite and with each week they are going to open one by one (and yes i play Fortnite casually, it’s actually a great and fun game), and nothing. So i ask “What is the purpose of those trapdoors?”

In the trailer of the new event, after Mila talked with Crypto through the Drone, it showed us a underground bunker opening, perhaps it’s Mila, or at least a secret base that Mila used to send Crypto the messages to warn him about Hammond. Whatever the case is, i strongly believe thats it’s going to be something related to Mila

3-The artifact and the “broken ghost”

The name “broken ghost” is actually a weird name for something that has something to with Loba, sure you can say “It actually refers to something that is going to be used against Revenant” or “It’s actually something that we are going to use to bring back Ash from the Titanfall 2 campaign” and while yes that can be the case (especially the Ash theory) i actually believe that what we’re building is a universal locator, a locator used to locate everything and everyone in the outlands. You may be asking “...okay...why?” And i tell you: “The legends don’t live together”

On what i mean by that: In a tweet sended by Tom Casiello, he told us that the legends don’t live in the dropship or in a big house like housemates  (even tho i decided that in my heart they are one big family of friends living together in a mansion, with each one of them having a room with their themes). And in the Chapter 4 of the storyline, it’s revealed that Bangalore and Lifeline live in diferent houses.

Where i am going with this is: Crypto is still living like a nomad, always running (and he even says in one of the elimination lines [“Sometimes you get tired of running, I understand, but you can't ever stop."], thus showing that even in the Apex games, hes running from the sindicate, the people who got his sister and now is after him, but as we can see, they still didn’t got him. Hammond could be building a robot (since the artifact [currently] looks like a skull, which spookes me a lil bit) that could pinpoint the exact location of Crypto and finally capture him.

Now for the most bonker part of this theory: They brainwashed Mila and turned her into a winter soldier

As i already said, Mila is actually pretty useful, not only because of her smarts, but because of the advantage that using someone that Crypto is closely familiar with could bring his downfall. So heres what i concluding: Mila gets brainwashed by Hammond in order to have someone to be a strong match against the best hacker of all the outlands and get rid of a big threat.

You may be asking “How?” and for that, i call my favorite boy:

4-Revenant (also yes this is a excuse to talk more about my main)

Rev doesn’t need a introduction, but heres one anyway: He was a hitman that at some point has died, so Hammond used his still somewhat salvageable brain to put it in a Simulacrum (in which i headcannon that at the same time they were also experimenting with some supernatural elements, but thats a theory for another day). after 200 years, during a hitjob he found out about who he really was and now here we are...do i need to say more?...really? Okay then: Hammond showed that they can brainwash simulacrums for an extensive period of time (200+ years i believe) in order to make them believe that they are actually human (even tho climbing a 15 store building, turning into a shadow and stabbing people with hands isn’t very...human). So in Rev backstory (and in the simulacrum lore) Hammond shows that they have the capacity to brainwash brains since the simulacrums are in a way cyborgs, being 99% robot and 1% human (that would be the brain btw). So using these techniques on a human would be very easy (i think?, i don’t know a lot of Simulacrums cuz they’re not real)

5-”THE broken ghost”

I want to touch upon is the name “The Broken Ghost”, i know that people believe that it’s actually Ash from Titanfall 2 (because spoilers she died), but don’t you think it’s weird that even 10 years after the main campaign, they couldn’t bring Ash back? I know that Simulacrums are diferent from robots, but couldn’t they just repaired Ash? And to answer myself: No. You see Simulacrums have an internal brain that is used to datastore information, but Rev is a special boy cuz hes handsome and his storage system is external, so in another words, when she died in the explosion caused by when a Titan is destroyed (or worse if you did an execution on her), her brain was destroyed, thus meaning that there is absolutely no way to bring her back. And yes, i just debunked the theories about how Ash is actually the broken ghost. Speaking of ghosts, that brings me on another point

6-Revenants and Ghosts

I wanna talk briefly about real life urban legends. First the Revenant myth is that a phisical deceased person who returns from the dead with an eternal rage for revenge, they are strong, smart and imortal, only leaving the world of the living when his thirst of revenge is sated (which fits very well for our baby boy Rev from Apex Legends)

And the Ghost is a spiritual deceased person who starts haunting the world of the living, sending chills down the spines of those who looks at them.

While yes their backstories are similar, their main diferences is that Revenants are corporial, and ghosts are spiritual, aka, Ghosts have the ability to dissapear and make people wonder if what they saw was real or not. Sounds familiar? If not, let me spell out for you: Mila. In the Crypto’s backstory, she suddenly dissapeared from Tae’s life, even in a surreal way since his life suddenly came crashing down overnight. And even better: If she was truly the broken ghost and got introduced in the Apex Games next season, that would really mess with Crypto’s brain, cuz his paranoia would make him wonder if his sister was back for real or not.

7-”Hold up”

-Said the handsome reader, scratching their brain (and yes i write fanfics)-”What does that mean for the future of Apex Legends and the storyline?”. I look at them, with the fire of knowledge burning through my eyes-“Let me tell you about the Winter Soldier movie from Marvel”

One key element from the Winter Soldier is that he was being brainwashed by Hidra (a Marvel version of the Nazis) and Bucky Barnes would transform into a emotionless killing machine, ready to kill the next target or those who got in his/Hidra’s way. But one thing that would turn him back into a normal human is his best friend Captain America, that through his pursue and persistence, by the end of the movies he saves Bucky from the brainwash trance and later movies he becomes Captain’s ally (and my OTP don’t @ me)

So if everything i talked about here is correct, heres what i think it’s going to happen: By the end of the storyline, it’s going to be revealed that Mila is alive, but she has been brainwashed by Hammond to kill Crypto. Even tho hes the main target and it would go against his better judgement, hes going to try save Mila from the brainwash trance, and not only that, hes going to use the help of Mirage. “Mirage?”-Asked the reader-”What the heck does Mirage have to do with an complicated story about family reunion, betrayl, saving someone from brainwash and fighting against a evil corporation?” and for that, i call Tom Casiello yet again (and a piece of Tae’s past):

8-Mirage, Casiello and a letter

In a early Season 5 tweet, Casiello confirmed that Mirage and Crypto’s story is far from done, and they would have many misadventures together, and while everybody (myself included) read it as Cryptage fuel, now i can confirm that Crypto is going to need Mirage’s help to make Mila remember who she was. You ask again ”But why Mirage?”, well, while i was researching Crypto’s page on the wiki, i found a peculiar letter that he sent for someone: “[Mystik -- I survived my first match, with only two broken ribs. Being as safe as I can, and keeping my distance. Unfortunately, the others are already asking about the Tower. The one Legend you love confronted me on the dropship. I thought he had evidence, but it turns out he’s just an idiot.There are two others here who are BIG guys. Like your son. Very intimidating. I’m sure one’s a sociopath, but I may have judged the other too soon. His name is Makoa Gibraltar, and he’s here to help Legends survive. I always chalked the Games up to neanderthals trying to prove something. Turns out some of them have a strong code of ethics. Ironically, the only neanderthal I’ve met trying to prove something… is me. Burn this letter as soon as you receive it. Will write when I can. Family forever. --TJP]” (https://apexlegends.gamepedia.com/Crypto)

Now you’re wondering “what the heck is that letter? Who is “Mystik” ”, and according to the wiki, Mystik is Crypto and Mila’s former caretakers at Ticacek Orphanage in Suotamo, aka the closest person they had to a parent. And in the letter, Crypto knows that Mirage is Mystik’s favorite legends, showing that him, Mila and their caretaker watched the Apex Games together

Thats where Mirage comes in: Crypto is going to use Mirage’s handsome and familiar face to remind Winter Soldier Mila the past, and then try to deactivate the brainwash (and headcannon, we are going to visit Angel City (the place where Mila and Tae used to live together) and collect parts of Crypto’s past and then bring it back to try make Mila remember who she was, but the FBI and Hammond is going to stop the legends)

Oh, and before you leave, ask yourself this: “How can a ghost get broken?”, now, instead of trying to find an answer, i’ll be kind enough to respond it to you (you’re welcome ;) ): Mila is the ghost that Hammond broke and put it together into Winter Soldier Mila, and then Crypto is going to have to break the ghost again to put back the right pieces

(I wanna thank everybody that somehow read everything, i do apologize if broke my english in some parts, it’s not my first language, also i would appreciate if yall could share my theory. It’s because i worked so hard on it, and it’s probably only going to receive like 10 likes and 3 reblogs. Also if you have a piece of information that could be considered important for my theory, please do let me know)

part 2 here

[lovelylogans]

gettin’ twitty with it

The Library Ghost (aka The Grey Lady, Gray Lady, Librarian Ghost, the Librarian) was the ghost of librarian Eleanor Twitty and the very first ghost that the Ghostbusters encountered. She appears to be a very odd reader as she likes to stack books up in the air. 

-The Ghostbusters Wiki

ao3 | read my other fics | coffee?

warnings: uh, ghosts, murder mention

pairings: platonic lamp

words: 1,093

notes: so, this is for the 13 days of halloween prompt over at @sanderssidescelebrations​! today’s prompt is ghost!side! it’s basically “ghostbusters-library-ghost-but-nice,” or at least that’s how it started.

Virgil's got a pretty good gig going.

He's technically an archival assistant in the depths of the library, but since the actual archival experts don't trust him to do actual, important, time-consuming work, and people so rarely need the archives of the library, most of the time, he gets paid to sit there and do homework and frown disapprovingly at people who come down into the depths of the library for an excuse to talk noisily, as if it's not still a library. That doesn't happen very often, though.

Virgil watches dispassionately as the latest gaggle of shouting college students sprint away, leaving behind the book that had suddenly flown off the table and hit one of the display skeletons hard enough to decapitate it. Virgil waits until the screaming's and the loud thumping of fleeing footsteps has quieted.

"Did you have to take the skeleton's head off his shoulders?"

The familiar, silvery, translucent form appeared, sending the pages of open books ruffling in the breeze, and a chill down Virgil's spine, and goosebumps sprouting over his skin. Really, he's used to it at this point, his body just hasn’t gotten used to the regular appearances from the paranormal yet, somehow.

"I thought it fittingly dramatic," Logan says, adjusting his tie—old-fashioned and way too thick, to Virgil, but probably quite fashionable when Logan was alive.

"Was it, ah. Overkill?"

"Maybe a bit," Virgil says.

"I used the phrase correctly?"

"You sure did, Lo, good job," Virgil says, and moves to reattach the skeleton's head.

Really, the fact that the library's haunted was half the reason that he'd applied to work in the library in the first place. And sure, the first time Logan had appeared, Virgil nearly had a heart attack and ran out of the library and had one of the worst panic attacks he'd had in years, but, well. The pay was nice, and he got free coffee from the much-less-haunted café upstairs, and the ghosts really weren't very troublesome at all, after Logan had appeared and apologized for making a fuss and that they hadn't known he'd worked there—apparently they didn't bother the librarians. Logan's pretty boring, ghost-wise.

"Was that a pun?" Patton asks brightly, poking his colorless, curly head around a corner. Patton's pretty cheery, ghost-wise.

"Absolutely not!"

"It kinda sounded like a pun, Logan," Virgil says, trying to stifle his smile—he ends up pretending like he's making sure that the skeleton's head is soundly attached, so that Logan won't see him smiling.

"It was my turn to scare off the noisy ones," Roman sulks. Roman's pretty... surprisingly normal, ghost-wise. Which is a weird way to describe not only a ghost, and also specifically Roman. Like, yeah, sure, he's definitely overdramatic and kind of annoying sometimes, but he's the most recent ghost, and therefore much more like Virgil in terms of, like, ability to understand pop culture references. The fact that he'd been murdered in a prince costume on his way back from a drama rehearsal kind of highlights that.

"Now, kids," Patton says, despite the fact that he's technically the youngest, in terms of how long he'd been alive, but he is the oldest, in terms of ghost-ness, so. "There'll be plenty of noisy people, you don't have to fight over scaring them."

Roman and Logan begin grumbling at each other, but quietly enough that Patton won’t lecture them again—Virgil can get how tensions will probably rise when you’re stuck in the same place for basically forever or until your soul moves on to the next plane, so they tend to pick their battles.

“So,” Patton says, propping his head on his hand, leaning forward. “How was your weekend? Didya do anything fun?”

Virgil’s weekend of being an absolute cave gremlin and not leaving his room until he needed to eat—watching Netflix, curling up under too-big blankets, eating probably way too much pasta than was good for him—and timing his ventures out into the kitchen so that he didn’t see any people flash through his head.

“Uh,” Virgil says. “Not really.”

And then Virgil feels bad, because Patton slumps, just for a moment, before he brightens again—the librarians are really the ghosts’ only source of outside world news, since they can’t leave the library—or, at least, they haven’t been able to figure out how to get them to leave yet.

“But I’m going out to dinner with some friends tomorrow,” Virgil says hastily, and Patton brightens again.

Well, he can. He’ll text some people and get together for dinner so it won’t be like he’s lied to Patton.

“Oh, tell me how it goes!” Patton says eagerly. “You work on Wednesday, right?”

Virgil nods, and Logan glances over.

“You mentioned you had a quiz today, last time, how did it go?”

“Pretty okay, I think,” Virgil says cautiously. “The formula thing you taught me helped a ton, that was, like, half the quiz.”

“Good,” Logan says. “Did you bring the paper you mentioned?”

“Yeah,” Virgil says, and digs around in his backpack. Logan had been studying to be a professor, before he died, so that means he’s basically set study-wise for sciences for life. Logan takes the paper eagerly, ready to edit.

“And the—” Roman starts.

“On it,” Virgil says, unlocking his phone and accessing the latest single that Roman’s been counting down the days for the start of. “Ready?”

“Everyone shut up!” Roman declares passionately, and Logan glowers at him briefly over his glasses frames before he turns his attention back to Virgil’s paper. “Okay, now you can hit play.”

Virgil does, and Roman sits with his eyes closed, listening closely, and by the time it loops back around, Patton’s already wiggling awkwardly along—he’d died before dancing outside of waltzes and foxtrots were popular, but he’s learned enough from Roman, who’s already rocking along, arms in the air, swaying happily.

“Logan, the paper can wait!” Roman commands. “Dance party! It’s dance party time!”

“Oh, no,” both Virgil and Logan chorus.

“Yes yes yes!” Patton says happily, clapping his hands. “C’mon, V, let’s dance!”

Patton takes his hand, which kind of feels like his hand got doused in ice water, and Virgil sighs, standing, as if Patton could actually pull him to his feet.

“Fine,” he grumbles, “fine,” and then starts to awkwardly sway along as Roman manages to distract Logan from the paper at last, already singing absently, missing most of the words that he’ll probably memorize as the single loops throughout the entirety of Virgil’s shift. 

Like he said—it’s a pretty good gig.

[lucastheunlucky]

Who Made Who | Luke&Blanche

Time Frame: Current Who: Blanche & Luke Possible Triggers: Body horror Location: Strawford Park Summary: Luke has been seeing a ghost around him and Blanche offers to help work out where she might be buried. Going back to the mass grave where he was disposed of a few years ago, causes her to lash out. She finally shows her face, and the horrors of exactly who she is and who hurt her.  

Blanche pulled her yellow jeep into Strawford Park’s parking lot with a low sigh, sliding into the parking space. She was overly prepared, as per usual. Some might call her paranoid, and they’d be right, but she had seen far too much to not be. She had enough salt in her bag to kill a baby moose, as well a small iron rod, wards, taser, mace, and acid mace. Probably a bit of overkill, but if she was going to be ghost hunting - sorta - with Lucas, then it was better to be overly prepared than not at all. Swinging her backpack on her back, she locked her car and stuffed her keys into her back pocket, walking up to Strawford Park’s gates, immediately tensing. Cemeteries were always haunted, she could feel the spirits lingering inside, and she winced as she lingered outside, waiting for Lucas. She felt him before she saw him, feeling the presence of a ghost coming ath er from a different direction, and she looked up from staring at her shoes and waved. “Hey!” she called, “What’s up? How are you feeling? Any better?”

So Lucas had only one goal in mind with all this-- and it didn’t actually involve him. ‘Do not, under any fucking circumstance, have Blanche get hurt.’ There was nothing else that mattered to him, because answers could always be found in other ways, and there wasn’t a super rush. Even with this ghost-- well-- it wasn’t good, but Lucas could handle it. He waved at Blanche, her smaller stature, backpack, and youthful energy making Lucas concerned already for her safety. “Hey there, Blanche,” he gave a soft smile, and sighed a bit. “I’m feeling a bit sick, but I’m good though. You have some gear on you, stuff to help with ghosts?” He asked, pushing the gate open, and looking out at the gravesite with a thump in his throat. “It's just on the edge, back I think-- better to not walk the middle, yeah?”

“A bit sick?” Blanche’s brows knit together in concern almost immediately. This was why she had wanted to go alone. In theory, the hard part was done, Lucas already knew where the grave was. She walked with him through the gates, grimacing slightly as she nodded. “Yeah, good idea. I - sometimes I have a nasty habit of drawing spirits to me. Something about my aura or something,” Blanche said with a shrug, “So staying away from most of them would be most appreciated. But I do have stuff in my bag that’ll help,” she patted her backpack slightly. “Iron, salt, wards,  you know, the usual.” After a moment, she paused and looked at him, concerned once again. “Here, we can go slow, okay? Are you sure you’re up for this”

Lucas chuckled, trying to keep his tone calm and slightly teasing. “Blanche, I don’t know what the usual is for ghosts, so I’m going to have to take your word for it. I’m not the type to grab weapons.” He’d have to remember that though, any new information on supernaturals wasn’t the worst to have. So the ghosts were attracted to her in a bad way, this put a frown on his lips, glad he hadn’t let her come alone. “Listen, if this goes sideways, I want you to come with my brother next time. There’s never a need to have shit like this bother you so aggressively alone.” He almost let out an annoyed growl, but it stopped in his throat. At her pause he looked back. “Of course, I know this seems grim and I don’t feel the best, but what if it helps? If we both feel like we need to turn around-- we will. Want a code word? Something we can just shout and we run like our ma’am’s have a wooden spoon and we’re on our last warning?” 

“Oh, I am,” Blanche said automatically, with a shrug. “The type to grab weapons, I mean.” She thought back to when she and Winston went to look at the cursed chest on the beach, going to snap photos and kill Karknoids. The back seat of her old, shitty car had been full of bats, bricks, wasp spray, and anything else she could find. She was a bit more prepared now. “Salt and iron are usually good for ghosts, though. I have wards on me in case I have to ward anything off while I’m here. But I don’t think anything’s going to go sideways.” At least, she hoped not. She let out a low sigh as she rubbed the back of her neck. “Your brother?” She frowned, not sure she liked the idea of that. Blanche wasn’t even sure coming here with Lucas was a good idea for Lucas’ safety, she didn’t want something bad to happen to his brother too. “If he’s alright with that. Does he know about this?” They continued walking, Blanche letting out a low laugh. “A code word? Like we’re spies or something? Do you think we’ll need something like that instead of just saying, Zoinks Scoob, let’s get the hell outta here?”

“Yeah, he will know. I don’t keep anything from him anymore, and he’s in search and rescue, he will be able to help out if we can’t find her body,” Lucas easily said. For some reason, while they walked along the edge, steps careful, and both vigilant to their surroundings, he couldn’t help but think about Regan and how she had suggested having a picnic in a graveyard. He internally smiled at that. Weirdo. She was something special. As they moved, Lucas felt the hair on his arms rise up, and he cracked his neck as it grew stiff, the muscles feeling heavier along his shoulders and making his body groan a little against itself. “Yes, Zoinks, please say that,” he said quietly. He glanced at his phone at the rough map, but in reality, he kinda knew where it was now that he was here. His memory was broken up from the day he was put here, hazy like they were echoes of moments over what actually happened. “Shit,” he glanced down when a surprise of pain made his chest suddenly ache and a wave of dizziness hit him. 

Blanche hated graveyards, always had. Whenever her parents would drag her and her little brother to see their great grandparents when they were small. Blanche would scream her head off, even though she was supposed to be the older, more mature one. Her screaming would set her brother off and it would always end with their father snarling at them to stop causing a scene and to behave. After a few failed times, they stopped going. Except Blanche never did stop seeing ghosts. “I can keep my old cartoon references going, if you want. Yabbadabbadoo,” Blanche snorted to herself, shaking her head. The spirit’s presence coming off of Lucas became stronger all of a sudden, causing her to pause as gravel crunched under her sneakers. She turned to look at him. “Lucas?” Blanche asked. Spots of blood were appearing on his shirt. He was hurt? What? “Lucas! Your shirt! Your skin - What - what’s happening? Are you okay?!”

Luke didn’t want to blame the ghost, even if it wanted to hurt him. It wasn’t her fault she died. It was Gotch’s. A low sound vibrated in his chest in a growl. “Yeah--,” he said. “I just felt suddenly sideways, vertigo, tired.” As he finished speaking the familiar southern drawl carried through the graveyard and his heart stopped for two beats before it started into a fumbling race that sent a tremble to his fingertips. ‘Another person with you? So comfortable.’ Lucas refused to look towards where it came from because he knew he wasn’t in town. He’d not heal from losing an arm that fast. “I don’t know what’s happening.” 

“She’s what?” Blanche gaped at him. And then she saw her appear before her eyes and Blanche stumbled back eyes wide. This was no girl - well, it was a girl, but it wasn’t quite how it should have been. She was instantly reminded of Lauren Langley’s true form, with intestines spilling out of her body. This was different. The girl was half formed into a wolf, bones bent and broken at odd angles, strange animalistic features and tufts of fur stretched over her skin. The streaked on her face from the large bullet hole in her inhuman skull. Blanche stared in horror, shaking slightly as her stomach churned dangerously.  No, she had a job to do. She could be sick later. Come on. She could do this. She swung her bag off her shoulder. “Lucas?” Blanche said. “It’s okay. She’s here and she’s trying to stop you.” Blanche forced some semblance of calm into her voice. “Let him go!” Blanche commanded. “We’re trying to help you. Let him go.” 

Stop him. Why? ‘Wouldn’t you want to be free of this suffering?’ The disjointed voice carried through him, and Lucas staggered into a standstill when Blanche tried to speak calmly to something behind him. When he laid at night, his nightmares were mostly seeing his packmates taken away, cut up, beheaded, but also it was this shadow of a monster that lurked in the very furthest points of his vision and whispered to end it. It’s always been this way for him. He’s been terrorized too long by Gotch. His voice would always lurk. Luke starred forward, determined to keep the feeling from scaring him, though his body creaked gently in want to defend himself. “She wants me to stop,” he swallowed thickly, taking a few more steps. He blinked a few more times, refusing to believe what he was hearing, the words kept slipping by, but it ached all of him. “Fuck--” his pulse increased. “Blanche-- forward or back?” he asked. 

“Let him go!” Blanche said firmly. She pulled the iron rod from her bag, though she knew the notes she had taken that it wasn’t going to be nearly as effective as she wanted it to be. Oh hell, what was she going to do now. “Lucas, listen to me. Can you hear me. Can you come forward to me?” Blanche asked. Panic was spreading in her body, but she desperately tried to make it go far away. Far, far away. There was a part of her that wished she told Rebecca or Nigel or anyone what exactly she’d be doing today. Mind racing, Blanche had to figure out what she wanted to do now. Go back? No, the longer this thing was attached to his soul meant bad news for Lucas. She didn’t want him to be tormented for that long, he didn’t deserve that. No one deserved that. Could she get the ghost to talk to her? “Look at me!” Blanche demanded. “No you, Lucas. You! The …. Girl. Hello? Can you hear me? Let him go this instant.” Blanche stepped closer to Lucas, almost ready to reach out and yank him towards her. “We want to help you find peace. Don’t you want that? Come on.”

Lucas had amber eyes on her, hair sprouted in places along the highest planes of his arms and knuckles, and he seemed heavier, almost denser as the muscles coiled in tension, but when he looked at her, it was him seeing her with a clear gaze. He refused to have this thing hurt this young woman. Luke could handle it, making him see his worst nightmares even if it made his heart thump at a dangerous pace that stirred him into a wanted shift. He’s been through worse-- he’s suffered so long-- this was nothing. Lucas was a beast with control, and he stepped forward, without restraint, nothing physically holding him back, not that a lot could against a werewolf’s strength. It was what was behind Blanche that made his stomach sour, making it so difficult to stop the paranoia.

‘I want to kill her.’ Gotch smiled and Luke almost shattered, “I can hear you, Velma,” he joked in hopes to not fall into that pitfall, pulling the first name from his pop culture list he could. Blanche’s pulse was high as well, and panic could be easily read and somehow, that was the reassurance he needed to know it was her. “Stay calm,” he took another step. “She has to do a lot to hurt me. I’ve already been to Hell.” The person behind Blanche was Gotch, missing his arm and holding a shotgun at her head. He exhaled and the side of the ghost surfaced just out of his vision near his cheek, her mangled face not the one he always saw but unable to speak from the damage. He took another step. “She hates someone. The one who killed her, it’s all she keeps saying. She keeps showing him to me.”   

Velma. Blanche let out a short laugh that sounded more like some type of high pitched tea kettle noise. “I’m as calm as I’m going to get,” Blanche replied. There was a whispering coming from the ghost that she couldn’t quite hear, and she wondered if it was because she was whispering lowly in Lucas’ ear and not to her. She didn’t want to talk to her - made sense, since Blanche actively wanted to get rid of her. But she also wanted her to find some semblance of peace. The girl would never be able to do that leeching off of people’s souls. She stared at Lucas, examining him closely for a moment. The more responsible part of her, whatever was left of that part, told her to turn back. To abandon this and come back by herself or with his brother. She met his eyes a moment. “She’s showing you things that aren’t real,” Blanche said carefully. After a moment, Blanche held out her hand to him. “Take my hand. We’ll go together, okay?”

“I have fallen for them before,” Lucas admitted, and he still couldn’t look Gotch in the eye, and a small part of him could hear Miles saying it would be extremely tough to face him in all fronts. He had to get better. When Blanche moved, and he took her hand, the illusion broke, the shotgun disappeared and the hallucination dissipated. Lucas stepped forward. His mind ached, like nails carving down his skull to believe it all. That it was real, and Lucas didn’t know if it was because he’d had nightmares for so long that he could navigate this, or because there was light before him-- Blanche’s bravery gave him pride, and appreciation. This was why you didn’t do things alone, right? He squeezed her hand to reassure her and the choice, the gravesite was close. They just had to go up a little more. Could he handle that though? Would he suddenly remember moving the dirt pressed on his face and trying to get out of the ground? 

“That’s okay,” Blanche said, quietly. She was relieved when he grabbed her hand. Gently, she lead him forward, her eyes still on the mangled form of the girl that was so desperately trying  to pull Lucas back. She didn’t understand why she was doing this - then again, Blanche supposed there was no need to know why, just that it was happening in the first place. Was that what her problem was? That she was so caught up in why things happened instead of just taking action and dealing with them as they came? Blanche didn’t know, but it caused a new round of anxiety in her. She clutched the iron rod in her free hand tighter as she pulled Lucas forward.

The weight on his soul seemed to pull and stretch. Like the ghost was tethered and bound to it and leaving his body behind like like a demented balloon. Suddenly something materialized near them and howled a broken, threatening sound. Lucas’ steps stopped, the very instinct to howl back came up without control, and he gritted his teeth as fangs crowded his mouth and his body shifted subtly, swallowing it down as his ribs creaked under his shirt. He turned around and it was Miles, with his face blown off, down to the bone, flesh hung off like a torn bed sheet, only his broken muzzle hung open to let the howl come through, and one eye illuminated and staring at him. ‘Late. Late. Late. This is what happens. Told you, I’d hurt them. I’d cut them. I’d kill him if you went to his side.’ Gotch’s voice whispered in his ear in familiar ways. Lucas stared at his brother, strong emotions a current in his chest, heavy in frustration and fear. His hand fell from hers, taking a step forward. “Don’t show me this--” 

Until he wouldn’t go anymore and she stopped too, squeezing his hand tightly. “Lucas?” She asked. She watched his inner turmoil, eyes going from between the girl and him. “Stop it! Leave him alone! Who are you?!” Blanche snapped. Shit. Lucas said a name, seeing some hallucination that she couldn’t see, turning and walking away, his hand falling from hers. Shit. Blanche rushed forward, practically running to cut Lucas off, holding her free hand up to stop him. “Lucas, look at me. It’s okay! It’s okay, it’s not real.” Blanche bit her like and then resigned herself. “Lucas, I need you to send me the map on your phone. So I know where to go, okay?” 

He closed his eyes so he wasn’t fooled. Did it mean she actually died here, and wasn’t disposed of? Did Gotch kill her so horribly? “Okay--” Luke opened his eyes, rings of gold in his brown, seeing Blanche. It was impossible not to feel this ghost’s presence now, and it was exhausting him fighting back. He pulled his phone out and quickly sent the map and plot location to her cell. “We have to go, it’s-- this is too dangerous now--” he said, wishing he could keep going but knew he didn’t want to put Blanche in any more danger. They got answers though. This wolf-- they deserved to rest. It was the least he could do. 

The ghost was wailing now. A deep, anguished howl erupted from her, and Blanche could feel it ringing in her ears. “Alright,” Blanche said softly, feeling her phone vibrate. She was overwhelmed now, over stimulated by the spirit and Lucas - it happened so often like that. It was easier to be around one instead of both, and Blanche spent the better part of her life wishing it was the live ones. But she could feel this spirit. This girl’s pain. More than that, she could feel just how desperate she was and feel just how close to breaking it was. A session or two with Rebecca hadn’t done much for her senses, other than her focuses on how different sorts of spirits felt, and if Blanche took a moment to breath, took a moment to look at the mangled body of the girl, she knew she didn’t have much time left. She reached for Lucas’ hand and pulled, this time back towards the graveyard gate. “Let’s go home,” she said. And then, she would come back later, without Lucas. So she could deal with this poor spirit herself.