#but if youre bringing other people into it?? pipe bomb. Pipe bomb to you good sir

[mydarllinglover]

Alone || Rescue Mission

Previous

"Are you going to take the cross too?" Gabriel asked.

After Daryl had introduced Noah, and explained about Grady Memorial hospital, the group devised a plan to protect the church whilst the others went into Atlanta to rescue Beth and Carol.

"What's the problem, I thought God was all around us?" Natalia asked, whilst her and Daryl planted the orchestra pipes around the stairs. "You don't need silly little symbols."

"The cross represents-"

"Talking to the wrong person, buddy." She cut him off. "My faith in God died a very, very long time ago, before the dead started walking around."

He bowed his head, walking away from the pair.

Daryl and Natalia were left alone.

"I'm glad you're back." Natalia muttered, hoping he hadn't actually heard her, but knew she was busted when he looked up at the woman, meeting her eyes. "Sully was missing you a bit, I think. But I wish Carol and Beth were here as well."

He made a gruff noise in agreement.

"We're gonna get them both back, we will, no matter what, we're not losing anybody else." She continued.

Daryl had been caught up about what he had missed whilst he was gone, Bob and the attack.

"I am glad though, that she wasn't there during- when we met... if anything happened to her because I... " Her voice broke off, but he knew where she was heading with that conversation, feeling a heavy weight drop in his stomach.

"We'll get them back." He repeated, nodding at her in some sort of understanding.

Michonne, Carl, Gabriel, Judith and Sully were staying at the church.

The rescue group were bringing Noah along, though Natalia had a bad feeling about him going with, she didn't voice it though, Rick had made the decision for a reason.

Daryl, Natalia and Rick were sat in the cab of the truck Daryl and Noah drove back from the city, Tyreese and Sasha were watching the teenager in the back.

"I've never been in the city after it fell." Natalia sighed, kicking her legs up onto the dash.

"Get your feet down." Rick pushed her legs off, as he drove. "Never?"

"Nope, stayed far from it, heard they were bombing the place, knew nothing good would come out of it, so steered clear." Though she side eyed him.

"We've been in there a few times." Rick told her. "It's dangerous, as long as you stay high and know what you're doing, you'll be fine."

"First time I met Rick, we went into the city cause he handcuffed Merle to a roof." Daryl told her.

Natalia looked towards her friend, stifling a laugh of shock at the revelation.

"Did he deserve it?" She asked.

Rick shook his head around, leaning towards a nod.

"He had to cut his own hand off."

"And you slapped that kid around the face with it."

Natalia looked between the pair as if it were a tennis match.

"Okay, why has neither of you ever told me anything about any of this, that is the funniest and grossest thing I've ever heard."

"They kidnapped Glenn, deserved it..."

"They what? Who?" Natalia asked.

"It was a group surviving in the city, called the Vato's and they were our friends."

"But they kidnapped Glenn?" Natalia repeated, confused.

"We made a deal with them, realised they were good people."

"What happened to them, are they still around?"

"No." Daryl put it bluntly. "They were taken out by another group."

"Oh. I fell off a roof once." Natalia said, not knowing what to say.

"That happened to someone else we knew, he impaled himself, Hershel had to fix him up." Rick told her.

"Oh, what happened to him?"

"Murdered." Daryl answered.

"Yep, course he was, duh." Natalia blinked. "Was it Shane, did he do it?"

Rick snapped his head at Natalia, looking at her with surprise before turning back to the road.

"How do you know about Shane?"

"I have my sources. Carl, he used to accompany me on my watches sometimes, if he was having trouble sleeping. Promised not to tell you, sorry." Natalia caved.

"It's alright, I'm glad he trusts you, and I'm glad you look out for him."

"Course, he's a good kid." She shrugged. "Beth and Carol used to gossip outside my room- cell as well, when I tried to take naps, I used to find it irritating, but now..."

"We're getting them back." Rick breathed, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.

"So how'd you fall off the roof?" Daryl asked, his arm was resting on the door, his left boot was on the dashboard, Rick hadn't told him to take it down.

"Doesn't matter." She shook her head, "I didn't die, though, which has been a recurring incident in your stories."

"You had dead people sitting outside your house when we met you." Rick looked at her.

"I didn't know them personally." She shrugged.

"At sundown we fire a shot into the air." Rick had begun explaining the plan drawing the map of what Noah explained on the floor, when they had got into the city, finding a place to hold up in. "Get two of them out on patrol. Then once it's dark enough that the rooftop spotter won't see us, we go. We cut the locks on one of the stairways, take it to the fifth floor. I open the door, Nat will take the guard out."

"How?" Tyreese asked.

"How do you think?" Natalia asked him. "Slit his throat."

"This is all about us doing this quietly, keeping the upper hand. They're not expecting us. From there we fan out. Knives and silenced weapons. We need to be fast. Tyreese, Sasha, take them. Daryl, you take care of whoever is in the kitchen. I got Dawn. If they're smart, the rest of them will give up. Then It'll be 6 on 3. 7 on 3 when we get a weapon to Beth."

"13 on three. The wards will help." Noah weighed in.

"That's best case. What's worst case?" Tyreese asked. "All it takes is 1 of those cops going down the hall at the wrong time. Then it's not quiet. All hands on deck. We're talking about a lot of bullets flying around."

"If that's what it takes." Sasha said.

"It's not. If we get a couple of her cops alive out here, we do an even trade. Theirs for ours. Everybody goes home."

"Yeah, I get it." Rick stood up. "And it might work. This will work."

"Nah, that'll work too." Daryl intervened. "You say this Dawn, she's just trying to keep it together, right?" He asked Noah.

"Trying and doing are two different things." Noah replied.

"You take two of her cops away, what choices does she have? Everybody goes home. Like he says."

"If even a hair is out of place on Beths head, I don't care who's going home." Natalia gave her opinion.

Rick decided to evaluate both plans, before siding with Tyreese and Daryl, assuring that if It failed, they were shooting the place up anyway.

Noah was their bait, he got in the position and fired the shots, gaining the cops attention.

Noah ran into the alley, letting the car chase him to the allocated spot.

They drove in front of him, hitting the kid with the car before hopping out raising their own guns at him.

"Put the gun down, Noah" The female cop told him.

"Put it down." The male cop repeated.

Noah did as they said, placing the gun on the ground.

"Hands up. Turn around."

The male cop walked towards him, pulling out a zip tie, and pulling his arms behind his back.

"I thought you were smart, Noah. Think we wouldn't hear you?" The female cop asked.

The group snuck towards the two cops, aiming their guns at the two's heads.

"Where are those rotters you were shooting at?" The man asked him.

Rick whistled, catching their attention.

"Hands." He said, when the cops turned around, aiming their guns at the five.

"What do you want?" The woman asked.

"Whatever this is, we can help." The man added.

"You do what we say, we don't hurt you." Rick said.

"Okay." The man put his hands up in surrender, no longer aiming his gun, the woman soon copied.

"Good. Now turn around. Put your guns on the floor and kneel."

They did as told, Natalia dealt with the woman, collecting her weapons and pulling two zip ties out, passing one to Daryl, who was dealing with the man, Tyreese helped Noah whilst Rick and Sasha continued to aim their weapons at the cops heads.

"We need to talk." Rick told them. "There's water if you need some and food"

"Mind if I ask you something?" The male cop asked, as their captors pulled them up.

Rick backtracked, looking at the man, waiting to hear what he had to say.

"The way you talk, the way you carry yourself, were you a cop? Believe it or not, I was, too." He smiled.

"Really? I thought that was just dress up." Natalia deadpanned.

"That's Lamson." Noah told Rick. "He'll be down for this. He's one of the good ones."

A car raced towards them, it's tyres squealing as it drove down the alley towards them.

The group jumped out the way, leaving the cops as they began shooting at the car. Tyreese shot one of the windows, revealing another cop shooting at them.

The cops got in the car, driving off.

Natalia shot one of the tyres, Sasha shooting the other one, air hissed out of it.

They ran after the car.

The car had stopped, Rick halted, telling the others to wait as they looked around at the burnt buildings, and the fried skeletons, that were still moving, but were melted into the tarmac.

They saw the cops running away from the car.

"Two, on me." Rick said following.

"I only saw the two." Natalia muttered to Daryl, as she looked around for the driver.

He nodded, in the direction of the RV, putting a finger to his lips.

Natalia opened the door slowly, whilst Daryl aimed his gun ahead, ready for attack.

No one was present.

Before either could realise, the cop flew out, tackling Daryl to the ground.

They wrestled each other on the ground, fighting as a burnt walker inched towards them.

The cop got his hands around Daryl's throat, forcing his head towards the jaws of the walker.

Natalia raised her hand gun, whacking it across the cops temple, knocking him off of Daryl.

Rick appeared, helping Daryl up.

"Nat." He said, as the woman took the gun off safety, aiming it at the cop, her boot on his chest, stopping him from getting up.

"You win, asshole." The cop grunted.

"We only need two, for Ty's plan." She said.

"No, three's better than two." Daryl disagreed.

"Nat, put it down." Rick told the woman.

"He tried to kill Daryl. We don't need him."

"Nat." Daryl said. "Three's better." He repeated.

She let out a sigh, putting her gun back on safety.

"You try anything again, I'll put a bullet through your skull before you even get a chance to run, I promise." She stood off of him, backing up to let Daryl make him stand, using a zip tie to restrain him.

They had gotten back to the spot, all three cops, under their watch.

"Your friend, what's his name?" The female cop asked. "I need to talk to him. Your plan is going to get me and my friends killed."

"We're going to make it work." Sasha said.

"It would work if you had different cops to trade."

This caught their attention.

"Dawns running Grady into the ground. A bunch of us want her out and she knows it. Pretty sure she knows we want Lamson to replace her, too." She continued.

"Dawn doesn't know that." The third cop said.

"She might. And she's smart. So there's a good chance you can't make this deal work and that'll leave us all dead. But if you let us go, we'll take care of Dawn ourselves and we'll let your friends go and this is over."

"No, we're not gonna do that." Lamson said.

"Do you want to die?" The woman asked him.

"No. I just need you to shut up right now." He told her. "You can make this work. But you've got to be able to talk to her."

"Noah told us all about her." Sasha answered.

"I've known her for 8 years, ma'am. I know this woman. And my only interest is peaceful resolution, not dying, and sleeping in my bed tonight. So, please, let me help you. Please."

"And I want my friends, but your people kidnapped them." Natalia shrugged. "I don't care about your wish for world peace or your bed."

Daryl pat her shoulder, turning around to look at Rick and Noah.

"Hey, Rick. You're gonna want to hear this." He said.

They made the cops sit against the poles, separating Lamson from the other two so that he could talk to Rick.

Tyreese and Sasha raided the car with the white cross, seeing what they could use.

Daryl, Natalia and Noah watched Shepard and the other man.

"You know, we could treat that, give you some ointment, clean the cuts on your face." Shepard said, looking at Natalia's back as she paced.

She stopped, looking at the woman.

"I don't need or want anything from your people, shut up and sit still."

"She's just trying to help." Daryl muttered to her, their faces were close as he talked, not letting the three other people in on their private conversation.

"And I don't need it, we're here for Beth and Carol, not trying to make friends, besides, they don't even hurt anymore."

"You still ain't a good liar." He shook his head, stepping away, starting his own pacing.

She looked over to Sasha and Lamson, they were heading out of the room.

"Sasha!" She called after the other woman. "What are you doing?"

"Just gotta take care of something, we'll be back soon." She said, walking out of the room.

A few minutes had passed, and Sasha hadn't returned with the cop.

Natalia was getting antsy, she had a bad feeling.

"I'm gonna go see what they're doing." She said.

"Alright." Daryl nodded at her.

Natalia walked out the room, heading in the way they had went, her gun was in her hand, the safety off, just in case.

She headed into the south side of the building, not hearing or seeing anything strange.

That's when she saw her.

Sasha was on the floor, knocked out cold.

"Rick!" Natalia shouted as she raced towards the other woman. "Rick! Sasha, Sasha, hello can you hear me?" She asked her, checking her over for injurys or blood.

Rick ran into the room, Tyreese followed.

"Sasha!" Tyreese gasped, running towards his sister, who was slowly waking up.

"What happened?" Rick asked her.

"Lamson, he's gone, he must've done this." Natalia said, helping Sasha sit up as she held her head.

"Alright, I'll find him."

"I'll help." Natalia went to follow but he put his hand up, stopping her.

"No, I need you here, keep an eye on the other two, make sure they weren't in on this."

"Rick." Natalia called after. "We only need two for the plan to work."

"Only if we're forced to." He looked at her, before leaving.

Tyreese and Natalia helped Sasha stand, walking her back into the other room.

Tyreese helped his sister to sit down, giving her some water.

Natalia headed over to the cops, pulling her knife out.

"Y'know he was gonna run?" She asked.

"No, we had no idea." Shepard told her. "We didn't know what they were doing when they left."

"And we're just supposed to believe that, right?" Natalia shrugged. "I told you that if you tried anything, I'd kill you." She looked at the male cop.

"And we didn't." He answered, not seeming threatened by the woman.

"Nat." Daryl called towards her, she looked over her shoulder, at him. He was shaking his head. "They didn't know."

She turned back, assessing the pair, trying to catch their bluff, before standing up, putting her knife back in the sheath.

"We need them for the plan." Noah reminded.

"Yeah, it's cracking up to be a great one, if we did it the other way, we would of had our people back by now, not chasing cops down streets."

Tyreese and Noah had moved the cops to sit in chairs by the time Rick had got back by himself.

Daryl and Natalia headed over to talk to him.

"He wouldn't stop."

"This change things?" Daryl asked.

"It has to."

"Maybe not." He thought.

"Well, she said the plan won't work. The guy who did is dead. Maybe we gotta rethink this."

"They also said the cop in charge didn't have any love for him. Maybe you did her a favour."

"I don't know if they'll play ball."

"So we don't give them a choice. They do what we say, or they die." Natalia said.

They walked over to the others.

"He was a good man." Shepard greeted them. "He was attacked by rotters. Saw it go down."

"Huh. You're a damn good liar." Rick replied.

"We're hanging by a thread here. He was attacked by rotters. That's the story."

"You said the trade was a bad idea." Daryl brought up. "What changed."

"Lamson was our shot. So its this or you go in guns blazing, right?"

"Pretty much." Natalia nodded.

"You don't want that."

"If this is some bullshit you're spinning and things go south..."

"I know. I know the good ones from the bad. Let us help you."

"What about you?" Rick asked the male cop. "You wanna live? How much?"

"Dawn's afraid she'll look weak in front of us. Thinks it'll tip things against her. Hell, it will. She'll see this trade as a rip-off if she thinks you took out one of our guys. So its a good thing Lamson got aced by rotters."

They were on board.

The plan was simple; Natalia, Sasha, Daryl, Tyreese, Noah and the cops would wait on top of the roof, Sasha and Daryl were going to keep lookout whilst Rick went to the agreed vantage point, waiting for the two officers to show up.

Daryl snapped his fingers when he spotted the cop car.

"Rick, they're heading towards you." Natalia spoke into the radio.

They waited in silence as Rick made the offer.

They had accepted it.

The two officers had led them into the hospital, Daryl and Rick led the still restrained cops.

They reached the 5th floor, heading down a hallway, behind the door, 4 cops were stood, their weapons in their hands.

Carol, who was being pushed in a wheelchair by Beth, were behind them, with a doctor.

When they saw the group, they put their guns in the holsters.

"Holster your weapons." The voice of Dawn came through one of the cops radios.

"You too." Rick told his group.

Natalia wasn't a fan of this idea, but done as told.

One of the cops opened the door, walking towards their side.

Dawn nodded at Beth, signalling to stand forward.

Natalia reached for her gun when she saw the two stiches alone Beth's cheek and forehead, and the cast on her arm, but a hand stopped her, Daryl's.

"They haven't been harmed." Rick told Dawn.

"Where's Lamson?" She asked.

"Rotters got him." Shepard answered.

"We saw it go down."

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that. He was one of the good guys. One of yours for one of mine."

"Alright." Rick nodded with his head, for Daryl's captee to walk forward.

"Move." He grunted, pushing the man forward.

Another cop pushed Carols wheelchair forward, letting Daryl take her bag and push her to their side.

Dawn then grabbed a hold of Beth's arm, pulling her forward as Rick did the same to Shepard.

Rick hugged her when she reached him, before letting her walk towards Daryl and Natalia.

"You alright?" He asked her, placing an arm on her shoulder, she offered a small smile nodding.

Natalia hugged the girl.

"I'm so sorry." She whispered, kissing her hair, "I should of been out there with you."

"It's alright." She whispered back "What happened to your face?"

"What happened to yours?" Natalia copied, running a gentle finger just under the stitching on her cheek.

"Glad we could work things out." Dawn said.

"Yeah." Rick nodded, as his group started to walk back the way they came.

"Now I just need Noah." She said, making Rick stop. "And then you can leave."

"That wasn't part of the deal." Rick walked towards her.

"Noah was my ward. Beth took his place and I'm losing her, so I need him back."

"What is your problem, lady? They're kids." Natalia snapped, not able to bite her tongue.

"Ma'am, please-"

"Shepard!" Dawn hissed. "My officers put their lives on the line to find him. One of them died."

Noah went to walk forward but Daryl stopped him, joining Rick's side.

Beth intwined her fingers with Natalia as they waited to see how this turned out.

"He's one of mine. You have no claim on him."

"The boy wants to go home, so you have no claim on him." Rick replied.

"Well, then we don't have a deal."

"The deal is done."

"It's okay." Noah stepped forward, trying to defuse the situation.

"No. No." Rick put his hand out to stop him.

"I got to do it." Noah assured him.

Beth let go of Natalia walking towards her new friend.

"It's not okay." She said, when Noah handed his gun back to Rick.

"It's settled." Dawn replied.

"Wait!" Beth ran forward, towards Noah, hugging him tightly.

"It's okay." He assured her, hugging her back.

"I knew you'd be back." Dawn said.

This seemed to spark something inside of Beth, as she let go of the boy, walking towards the woman.

Natalia took a few slow steps forward, seeing what the girl was about to do.

"I get it now." She said.

She then stabbed something into the woman's shoulder, than a shot ran out, blood sprayed out of Beth's head as she fell to the ground, a gun was in Dawn's hand.

"Beth!" Natalia screamed, running forward, falling to the ground as she held the dead girl, her friend.

Dawn cried out that she didn't mean to, but Daryl didn't give her the chance to finish her sentence, firing his own gun, into her head, her body fell backwards as her own blood sprayed out, splattering the crying woman as she shielded the lifeless teen.

Everyone else in the hallway pulled out their guns, aiming at the opposing sides

"No! Hold your fire!" Shepard shouted. "It's over. It was just about her. Stand down."

"Beth." Natalia's voice broke, her hands shook as she ran her fingers down the girls face. "I'm so sorry, I'm so, so sorry, I'm sorry I couldn't protect you, either."

The cops put their guns away, but Daryl didn't still keeping his eye as he held back cries.

Carol walked towards him, sniffling as she patted his shoulder.

He bent down besides the woman, as they both cried.

"You can stay." Shepard offered

"We're surviving here." Another spoke up. "It's better than out there."

"No." Rick said, tears pooled in his own eyes. "And I'm taking anyone back there who want's to leave. If you want to come with us just step forward now."

Noah was the only person to walk back.

Daryl picked up Beth, holding her in his arms, as Rick helped Natalia to stand, as soon as she did, she went straight back to the girl, petting her hair, her whole body shook with her tears, following Daryl as they left the hospital.

To Natalia, it felt like the same pain as the night she lost her family, Beth was like the sister she never had, sure they had lost people before, but Natalia never felt close to them as she did with the teenager.

When they walked through the door, outside, Maggie dropped to the floor, sobbing loudly at the sight of her younger sisters lifeless, bloody body.

A funeral was held for the girl in the first field they had found outside the city.

Daryl and Natalia stood next to each other, their fingers were linked, just like they had done when Beth mourned her father at the morgue, the same place they had lost her.

When her body was buried, the group let Maggie have some space with her sisters grave, Noah had shared that him and Beth were planning on going to his old community, where his family were, in Richmond, Virginia.

They had taken separate vehicles, Rick, Michonne, Tyreese, Glenn and Noah rode in one car, the others in the rest.

Carol had a radio, Rick had the other one, that's how they were going to keep in touch with each other whilst Rick and his group headed towards Noah's home, perhaps their new home.

It had taken two weeks to get to Virginia.

It wasn't.

Another funeral was held, for Tyreese.

They had each taken turns of shovelling dirt onto his grave whilst Father Gabriel gave the sermon.

His beloved hat rested on the cross, just like how he had worn it everyday.

Rick had decided that they would carry onto Washington, Eugene had lied about the cure for a reason, and they were going to find out why, even as they dealt with their grief and regrets.

Next

[tea-with-evan-and-me]

"Let’s see if she stops now that she knows I know who she is and she’s risking prison time - as per her state law. "

This is what gftwd said about you 😭 PRISON TIME LMAO she also calls you her "bully". You did nothing wrong and to no point bullied her. She bullied everyone else and suffered the consequences and now her fragile ego can't deal with being called out. Also isn't she the one risking prison time trying to find your personal information and trying to doxx? She really needs to log out for good, for the sake of her own mental health and for other blogs...

oh boy, an update! thank you. you're absolutely right. there she goes again with the legal threats, can she please retire this concept? 🙄 the irony is not lost on me that the day after one of her jilted discord buddies ends up in my ask box, confessing her deranged stalking/doxxing attempts and plot to “ruin my reputation”, she magically identifies me and knows who i am and where i live! okay, then go call the ''local police'' and report my nefarious deeds so i can be locked away forever.

but really.. let class begin. trust when i say this humble tumblr blogger knows a little bit on the subject of laws and prosecution 😉 now, i am aware that she’s in another country, and for my global readers, let me explain, as some folks on this app throw words around expecting us all to be naïve, fearful dummies. in the united states, cyber bullying as a criminal offense is generally most common among school age teens. this is why a lot of the language you’ll find on the web is particular to events happening or originating on school grounds between pupils, speaking to how online drama (between people who know each other in real life) can escalate to in person violence, or even suicide attempts because someone was constantly being intimidated.. or had a questionable photo or video spread, for example. it’s not, like.. calling someone on twitter a stupid twat. cyber bullying becomes a crime punishable by law when you repeatedly intimidate or threaten with physical violence, make death threats, extort/sextort, that type of thing. serious shit. the parameters for this type of conviction is incredibly stringent. no one is going to get sent to prison for posting that they disagree and hold negative feelings about another internet user, who is not being identified by their legal name. the only one threatening to bring real life identities into this scenario is gftwd. anyhow, the laws surrounding internet activity is quite literally why gftwd could get away with running what could be described as a hate blog, dedicated to spitefully critiquing the every move of a regular person (frances mairead), with no legal consequences. i am a grown woman, i’m not scared of some mentally ill teenager a million miles away who has a vendetta against me. her discord pal already told me what her goal is: she was evidently going as far as to scope out someone to manipulate images and screenshots to spread lies about me, with the intent to ruin my reputation.

even if she were able to hop online and post my name, address and a photo of my bare (amazing, glorious) tits, what is she or any one of her multiple personalities going to do with that information? send me a pipe bomb, or maybe an anthrax laced letter disguised as a nude photo of evan peters? ok girly. do that, then call the popo and tell them you’re mad at someone on the internet. i know those folks could use a laugh.

[idle-lyla]

i made a list of things i have to read before possibly doing something bad for me — 

you go to my office high. you drive me home high. you get overly touchy and reckless when you're high. you smoke everyday. you say you don't have enough money but you spend as much as 20k for weed and psychedelics every other month. also, your weed pipe looks like a fat dildo.

you don't want to be seen with me in public. there's always a pretty dress put to waste.

my therapist says you are a narcissist who's been alternating between love bombing and devaluing me the past three years. this cycle has destroyed my self-worth and self-respect for the sake of building yours. at first i found this hard to believe because you never appeared self-obsessed. my therapist said, narcissists have low self-esteem but hide it very well. you appear charming and accomplished to the world with your meaningful career and advocacies. you invite me to group meditations where you speak about lovingkindness, as if you were a priest preaching the gospel. you are worse than most men, because you go out of your way pretending that you are not like most men. you are smart with your deception. truth is, you have never been good in your personal relationships, you only want an audience so people can think that you are capable of goodness. looking back, you have only been nice to me so you could take advantage.

you never say sorry. you have taken away my freedom in saying what's on my mind. whenever i feel bad and try to communicate it, you twist my story to turn yourself into the victim, so much so that i end up apologizing and regretting i ever said anything to hurt you. now i overthink the validity of my emotions rather than accepting them as they come.

you bring out the worst in me. i forget to take care of myself. non-stop crying in the hospital, in the shower, in the grab ride home. i was told i was showing PTSD symptoms.

this relationship has driven me away from my family and friends.

it was not always consensual.

it hurts that you talk to too many girls. it makes me feel very disposable. it hurt so much that day we were watching netflix on your phone and a message notification flashed on your screen. you feigned innocence and acted like it was a message from a friend.

you have daddy issues. you hate him but you are so much like him.

messy room. messy life.

i thought it was a bit romantic how we have kept this alive for so long, how we have managed to live our own lives and meet other people, only to cross paths again in the end. but i now realize that you are never letting me go, not because you (could) love me, but because you needed me to boost your ego up. you will always want me but you will never care for me.

[cyndecreativity]

Promptober Day 1 - How To Make Friends

So this is a bit of a warmup and I’m not sure if I’m done with it, but I wanted to post it and see what people thought of it. The husband encouraged me to write stuff that didn’t involve Zodiac this year, and I didn’t want to put pressure on myself to write 1k words for every prompt, just get enough of an idea to write something, you know?

"I chose you." - Bat - Wearing Each Other’s Clothes A LITTLE OUT OF THE ORDINARY (Adverse Effects | Unconventional Restraints | “This wasn’t supposed to happen”)

Not every rivalry can be fixed. But Lefty won’t let down his team, or his game.

~700 words

---

The underground area of Umbra Stadium was affectionately called The Dungeon by those that frequented the building, but not those that worked there. Players typically only moved through the locker rooms and the dugout. They had no reason to go deeper.

Not always.

Even breathing deepened into heavy, muffled and struggled around cloth. Lefty, left-handed left fielder of the Umbra Hulks, darted his dark eyes from the pages of a book toward the source. With a swift motion, he stood and dogeared his page to slap the book down on the chair behind.

“Hey, kiddo, you finally awake?”

In the other chair, a young man lifted his head, pale eyes wide at Lefty. He took in his surroundings - a dingy room with poor lighting and pipes across every available wall and ceiling. Water dripped from connections and joins, a valve ticked every so often with high pressure or low pressure. He tried to sit up, to move his hands, and grunted. Panic opened his face and he tugged.

“Ah, yeah, you’re gettin’ it now.” Lefty chuckled and took a few steps forward. “Welcome to The Dungeon, Spooky.”

Spooky’s white eyes focused on Lefty, brow furrowed. The man wore a Tombstone Wings uniform. His uniform. He attempted to swallow around the dirty sock in his mouth, held fast by a belt tied around his head.

“You may be wonderin’ what brings you here.” Lefty smiled to his captive. “Now me, I’m not one to keep a guy waiting. Fastest hands in the region, me.” He reared his left hand back, stepped, and threw an invisible ball. “So lemme tell you a story, Spooks.

“See, in the game of baseball, there’s usually a fun rivalry between teams, yeah? That tension helps keep players motivated, gets the audience excited, gets butts in seats, right?” Lefty paced around in front of his captive, hands moving, punctuating his sentences by looking to Spooky. “Maybe that tension boils over and coaches do their best to remind the players what they’re really here for: the game, right? I’ve been a part of these kinds of rivalries over the years, but I always try to meet with the other players and hash it out, take ‘em to a bar, maybe even go on a quick adventure.” He smirked at the boy. “Nothin’ brings you closer than trusting the other person to cram a potion down your unconscious throat.

“Some of my best friends are people I’ve had beef with in the past. You’d never know it to see us nowadays.” He wandered closer to the chair with his book. “So I don’t mind a bit of… discord between players.” Leaned against the wall beside the chair stood a baseball bat. “But you, Spooks,” he grabbed the bad and pointed it at the younger man, “you just don’t seem to know what’s good for the game.”

True to his name, Spooky could not turn any whiter, though panic filled his eyes. He shook his head, protest muffled by the sock in his mouth.

Lefty spun the bat, a grin on his face. “Oh, but I know you’re just new, Spooks. A rookie just followin’ orders from his Captain, right?” Spooky nodded vehemently. “But, see, Captains don’t get to where they are without becoming some kind of untouchable, right?” He stepped closer. “They got bombs ready to go off if anybody tries to sneak up on ‘em. Someone else’ll take the fall for ‘em, maybe they got friends in higher places. But you gotta send a message somehow, right?” Both hands gripped the bat’s base. “Maybe find someone they care about, like… a family member or somethin’. Or someone they love like family.”

Spooky’s brow furrowed, white eyes darting between Lefty’s face and his hands on the bat.

“I’m pretty fast, throwing the ball, makin’ enemies, makin’ friends, even makin’ connections. That’s why I chose you.” Dark eyes fell on Spooky, the bat moving slowly into position. “I know how bad it’ll hurt Sherriff to find your body in the dugout tomorrow morning.”

[lacroixqueen]

sevika tries to make you jealous (18+)

Summary: sevika tries to make you jealous by bringing a bunch of girls to the bar right in front of you

Pairing: bartender reader x sevika

Word Count: 1.4k

Tags: jealousy, teasing, messiness, useless lesbians who cannot communicate, salty reader, mean sevika, rude sevika

You were working part-time as a bartender at The Last Drop. You figured it was a pretty sweet gig with solid pay and good hours. But your favorite part about the job was your most loyal patron.

Sevika would usually come in during the middle of the night, plop herself down at the bar, order a whiskey on the rocks, and flirt with you for hours and hours on end. You would be lying if you said you didn’t look forward to her antics every single day.

You loved how she paid attention to your little details. She always noticed whenever you style your hair, or wear a different color skirt, or experiment a bit more than usual with your eye makeup.

You would notice how some butterflies would flutter in your stomach whenever her hand brushed against yours when you handed her the bill, or when her intense gray eyes would flicker over your chest.

Sometimes, after you closed the bar, you would sneak into the stockroom, lock the door behind you, and just touch yourself, imagining all sorts of terrible things Sevika would do to you if you let her.

How good it must feel to have her slam you against the wall and kiss you hard, how rough her leathery pants would feel against you as you rode on her lap.

Ugh. It just wasn’t fair.

You also felt yourself beginning to fall head over heels for her. You were never the type to wear your heart on your sleeve, but she made it so damn difficult not to. Every single time she flashed that stupid smirk, or said a cheeky joke, or told you a funny story, you fought so hard to fight the urge to just lean over the counter and kiss her already.

But in your heart of hearts, you knew it would just complicate things for no good reason. Sevika was a scary lady. She worked for a lot of very powerful people, and knew all the behind-the-scenes secrets of the undercity. She didn’t have time to get invested with ordinary, everyday people like yourself.

Besides, you were more than convinced you were just another pretty face she could talk up at the bar. You weren’t anything special to her. You just had to be okay with that and move on.

It was yet another Tuesday evening. The dinner rush was more or less over. You were drying a scotch glass behind the tab when you heard the soft sound of the front door swing open.

Sevika stumbled in with two very pretty girls on either arm. They ambled on over to the couch pushed against the back wall of the bar. Your eyes immediately glided over to their direction.

It seemed like the ladies were both workers at the Gardens, and Sevika invited them out to drink.

You were straining your ear to gather every last tidbit from their conversation. Something, something Sevika was the best they’d ever had. Blah blah blah about how she fucked her so good. Ugh. Whatever. You weren’t salty at all.

Just be cool, you thought to yourself as you smoothed your apron skirt and picked up a spare notepad from under the counter. Take her order, be in and out. Don’t say anything weird.

You could feel your heart pounding against your chest as you approached the group of women. One of the girls was a very alluring, beautiful redhead. She had one of her legs draped over Sevika’s thigh, pushing her body as close to her chest as possible. The other was a drop-dead gorgeous, petite blonde. Sevika had her mechanical arm wrapped around her waist, smoking a cigar in the other hand.

“H-hello..” you stuttered, pretending not to know Sevika. “How can I help you today?” Your eyes couldn’t help but glaze over her neck, noticing a long line of fresh, violet hickeys.

“Um…” the redhead looked you up and down, very obviously judging your plain bar uniform. “I’ll have.. A cherry bomb and..”

“Oh oh! I want a lemon gin!” the blonde would pipe up, clearly the more bubbly of the pair.

Sevika’s eyes never left your face. She was watching you, meticulously documenting every expression. She wanted to see how you would react.

“Right..” the redhead would finish the blonde’s sentence, starting to kiss Sevika all over her hickeys. “And um.. She’ll have a whiskey on the rocks, please. Thaaaanks..”

You rolled your eyes, jotted down their order, and spun around on your heels to return to the bar. You could feel Sevika’s intense gaze searing into your back, but you didn’t care.

You would be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t a little bit hurt, that you didn’t wish you were the one straddling her thigh, or kissing her neck. But whatever. Sometimes, reality isn’t what you wanted it to be and you were used to it.

You quickly made the drinks, trying your hardest not to focus on the ridiculous moans and giggles that traveled from the back of the bar. You tried to use the sound of the cocktail shaker to drown out the background noise, to no avail, of course.

Once you carried over the wooden tray of drinks, and was about to place it on top of their table, you noticed Sevika’s hands roughly digging into one of the girl’s skirts. For some reason, even seeing that sent you into a never ending spiral of pure jealousy.

“One cherry bomb, lemon gin, and whiskey on the rocks,” you said snarkily, setting down the tray less than gently, and turning back around without another word.

“Talk about rude..” one of the girls scoffed, curling back into Sevika’s arms.

You pushed through the side doors of the bar, leaning against the outside wall of the building in a dimly lit alleyway. You hastily lit up a cigarette, and took in a deep smoke while looking up into the smoggy sky.

You wished you weren’t so sensitive, and that you didn’t care so much. And fuck. Why were you crying? It’s not like you and Sevika were in a relationship or whatever. Hell, you didn’t even know if she was interested in you that way. Clearly not, if she’s bringing in other girls right in front of you.

You crossed your arms over your chest. Shit. Zaun always got so ridiculously cold at night. A few long minutes passed, until you heard the side door creak open. And there she was.

Sevika loomed over you, pressing her forearm above your head onto the wall.

“Shouldn’t you go back inside?” you couldn’t even meet her eyes. But her gaze softened. She could see your tearstained face.

“Nah, I told them something came up,” she replied simply. She noticed you were shivering, then removed her cloak and draped it over your shoulders. “You should take this.”

You ignored her, taking in another drag from the cigarette you held between your fingertips.

“Were you crying because you wanted to sit on my lap instead of her?”

You paused, still looking to the side. Sevika gently grabbed your wrist, causing you to drop your cigarette onto the ground. She pushed your arm above your head, leaning even closer into you.

“You know, sweetheart..” her lips were brushing dangerously close to your earlobe.. “If you wanted something from me, you could’ve just asked.”

“I don’t want anything from you!” you said, pouting a bit. God, you were an awful liar.

“What if I told you I brought those girls in specifically to make you jealous~?” she teased, pushing her thigh between your legs. “Would that change your mind at all?”

She could tell you were blushing hard, even in the darkness of the alleyway. You were biting your lip, trying not to spill all your guts out to her right then and there.

To admit that yes, you were jealous. That it did rile you up. That you secretly wished you were the one she wrapped her arm around. That she grabbed your waist, or kissed your lips, not hers.

“Maybe it would..” you muttered shyly.

Sevika smirked, grabbing you by the hand and leading you out into the main streets.

“H-hey, just what do you think you are doing?!” you cried.

“Taking you back to my place,” she said curtly. “To give you what you want.”

[huenjin]

soulmate bruises.

you could have been stuck with any other soulmate mark, so why specifically did it have to be the soulmate scars theory?

pairing | lee juyeon x reader (ft. a few of the boyz) genre | fluff / soulmates!au, high school!au word count | 1,654 words warnings | mentions of bruises, swear words author’s note | reposting of an old fic, edited specifically for lover boy here.

"That looks like a real bad bruise," Haknyeon mumbles. His thumb traces the corners of the bruise and you wince, the pain scourging through your nerves, tingling and rushing through your brain furiously.

"Your soulmate must have gotten hit badly," Chanhee chuckles, looking through the photographs in your camera. You frown and curse under your breath. Haknyeon looks through the papers by your side and you look around the photography club you started with these idiots for the school magazine.

"I’ve got an idea," Changmin's eyes glint mischievously as he walks up to your table, having overheard your conversation. "Let's hit Y/N to inflict pain on her soulmate for having hurt her. It's the perfect plan."

Chanhee raises an eyebrow at Changmin but Haknyeon seems to be all in for the plan. Your forehead scrunches in annoyance, your eyebrows furrowing together as you pinch the skin to distract yourself. You groan, mumbling, "Shut up for a second, will you?"

"Fine, spoilsport," the one who suggests the plan says, pressing his lips together in disappointment. He soon began, "My idea was great. All you low lives will never understand."

"I'm going to find this nasty motherfucker," you stand up, determined. The chair pushes back and the table jerks forward as you press your hand down on it firmly. "And he's going to pay for hurting me so much. These bruises take forever to fade away."

Haknyeon stands up soon after, "We just have to find another individual in this city that has the same ugly bruise on their face as she does."

Chanhee and Changmin follow suit, albeit reluctantly. The latter chuckles sardonically, "This is going to be easy. How many people do we even have to search? Yeah, just mere tens of thousands in this city."

Chanhee digresses, "Let's cancel all the nice-looking dudes because our girl here doesn't have good luck."

"You're an arsehole, dude. An arsehole, I say."

"What's with the weird We're Avengers formation you guys have on?" 

Younghoon walks into the room with a cup of coffee and Ray-Bans like he's making an entrance and you roll your eyes. He places the glasses on the table and sighs, "It's cool and everything but Juyeon's hurt, Chanhee. He won't tell it out loud, but yeah, he's hurt and he needs help. The nurse isn't in yet."

"He's hurt?" Chanhee asks, concerned.

"Hurt, oh yes. This is perfect." Changmin chirps and Younghoon raises an eyebrow.

"You're Team Rocket now?" He furrows his eyebrows and glances over at you disappointed, almost as if it is your stupidity that has nurtured them into these. "Anyhow, Chanhee, follow me. The rest of you stay put."

Haknyeon, Changmin and you listen because Younghoon was a mere acquaintance. He was, however, Chanhee's childhood friend, and since he is Chanhee's friend, you have seen Lee Juyeon around — at parties, at the basketball court, in the hallways. And that is it. 

So, why would you care if this man was hurt?

Unless he got hit like a bitch on his face.

Later that night, you hold yourself close, tears threatening to spill from the corners of your eyes. It feels like your ribs are being slammed into something and the pain is unbearable. It leaves you breathless and a little shaky on the ground. You scream at one point and slow winces leave your lips as you try to hold it in.

Haknyeon knocks and walks into your room when you don't reply. He shifts you slightly, his hands rubbing your back slightly as you lightly cry, "I hate that bitch but he must be in so much pain if I'm feeling this much." 

Haknyeon's angry. In all honesty, he gets the soulmate mark and how that should help people be happy but never has it led you to your soulmate, only providing pain along with the entire experience. Soulmates are not supposed to bring pain.

Your teeth clench in pain as you sit up. Your feet dangle for a while before it touches the ground and you stand up, ignoring the pain that seers through your body.

"I'm finding that motherfucker, that's it."

Haknyeon chuckles at your resilience. He helps you stand well and watches your determined expression, mumbling, "The boy's dead meat for sure. Either in your hands or the one that's hurting him."

Finding him is easier than you expected. Haknyeon helps you and the two of you leave the house in pursuit of the man with injuries — a bruised face and now, bruised ribs. You have always wanted to meet your soulmate for, a) he was nasty enough to get himself hurt without bothering about your well being, b) he is your soulmate, and deep down, you want to care for him, heal his wounds, and. . . slap some sense into him because it's a connection and he should respect it. 

You message Chanhee, knowing if you should start anywhere, it's the closest person you know who has an injury.

You: chanhee? [11:23 PM] Chanhee is a hoe: Juyeon's number? here. [11:23 PM] Chanhee is a hoe: [Juyeon's contact] [11:24 PM] You: what the fuck? [11:24 PM] Chanhee is a hoe: thank me later. [11:24 PM] Chanhee is a hoe: don't kill him. but if it makes you feel better, i'm shipping you two and that his bruise is nastier. [11:30 PM]

"It's Juyeon, isn't it?" Haknyeon pipes and you watch his smile curve upwards. "Turns out Chanhee isn't that useless."

"He is. That arsehole didn't tell me till I asked him of it. What if I didn't? Would he have let me go on a wild goose chase?"

Your phone pings again and you groan, albeit very grateful for his existence 

Chanhee is a hoe: [Juyeon's address] [11:36 PM]

Haknyeon laughs, "Knowing him, yes." He drums the bonnet of the car, waiting for you to hop in and when you do, he enters, igniting the engine and zooming away to the address Chanhee has sent you.

Upon reaching his place, Haknyeon wishes you luck and tells you that he'd rather wait in the car and that if you planned on staying the night, then, you should text him so that he could leave. You smile and storm away, trying to build up the rage within you to lash out at your soulmate.

"Lee Juyeon," you slam at his door. "Lee Juyeon, open your door." 

You hit the steel door as hard as you can, unbothered by the pain that now seers through your fist. At this rate, you'll be hospitalized with your soulmate and you could have your first date there. How nice; not.

"Y/N?" he opens the door, and you notice the redness around the sides of his fist. Your eyes widen and the air is taken away from your lungs as you stare wide-eyed at the man before you.

Lee Juyeon is gorgeous. He leaves you feeling dazed like a comet hitting the earth's crater, strong and hard. He is tall enough to tower you and his eyes sparkle with hope. You notice the bruise on his face under the dim street light by his house and you gape.

"It could be you."

"Huh?"

You run back to the car, tapping at Haknyeon's glass. He pulls it down and hands you a paper cup of hot coffee. You look at him with a snug expression. You notice Juyeon watching you with confusion. You take big strides towards the man and open the cup, only to throw the hot coffee onto his chest, in the same area that had you wincing moments ago.

It hits you a second too late. You drop the cup, holding your upper abdomen, your fingers digging into the underside of your breasts as you fall on your knees. You definitely did not think this through. Juyeon merely clenches his teeth tightly, and you realise that with all this experience you both shared, he's the only one who knows how to deal with the pain.

Haknyeon chuckles at the sight, and almost on cue, he pulls his car back and drives a bit away, parking it by a big tree. Juyeon kneels along with you and helps you up, "Let's put some ice there."

"That was a very bad idea. 0/10 would not recommend."

You're holding your chest and your abdomen messily and you're cursing at Juyeon, "Are you a gangster? A thug? Why do you keep getting hurt?"

"A boxer, actually and I keep getting hurt because Sangyeon will not go easy on me. I'm sorry. You must have been through shit," Juyeon's voice is soothing. Like a fresh warm bath with your favorite soap bombs and a ducky. He helps you into his house, lays you on his sofa carefully as he goes to grab ice.

"Maybe this wasn't all of a bad idea," you shout, and Juyeon chuckles. He even laughs beautifully; how? He asks if he could lift your shirt up as he comes back to your side with a bag full of ice. You nod and he lifts your shirt up, grimacing at the purple bruises that have formed by your abdomen and the area under your breasts. Juyeon is too worried to let his eyes stray anywhere else as he mumbles apologies after apologies.

"It's okay," you chuckle nervously, feeling conscious and slightly bad for your soulmate. "At least now I have you. We'll get through this pain together. You can take care of me and I can take care of you."

Juyeon feels his insides bubbling, his chest tightens, and his heart bloom. If this is what a soulmate's love feels like, he could get high on it. His face gets close to your skin and his lips slightly trace the bruises, before placing kisses on it and then, the ice, all while mumbling, "I'd like that. I'd really like that."

[foli-vora]

there she goes

A/N: Soft boi has arrived! Literally only watched his episodes of the Mentalist because Patrick Jane, quite frankly, annoys/bores the absolute shit out of me.

Pairing: Marcus Pike/f!reader

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: none that I can see but please let me know if you think something should be added!

+++

Standing in line at your favourite little café, you watch the rain pelt against the glass panels of the shop with disdain, cursing the bright sunny morning that tricked you into leaving your umbrella and jacket at home. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky when you woke and left for work this morning, and now it seemed like the dark grey clouds delivering the onslaught of rain stretched from horizon to horizon with no signs of a break any time soon. Typical, you thought to yourself. Like your day hadn’t been bad enough already.

Your landlord had dropped the bomb of a rent increase, your car had a flat, you had missed the bus and had to take a cab, your desk chair decided to die – leaving you practically on the floor trying to answer calls and use your computer and the office printer refused to print anything, no matter how many times you called it a piece of junk and kicked it. Suffice to say, you were more than ready for a strong hit of caffeine.

You’re dragged out of your inner grumbling when a finger gently taps your shoulder and you whirl to face the tapper immediately, sharp words of irritation dying on your tongue the second you meet their gaze.

Brown eyes, you notice instantly. Soft, soulful brown eyes. He was… nice. Understatement. He was gorgeous, with neatly trimmed facial hair and windswept dark hair falling just above his eyes.

He gestures towards the counter with a polite half smile, “Uh, you’re next.”

You blink in confusion before glancing at the young girl behind the register, seemingly waiting for you to step forward and order, and quickly apologise to them both. She smiles, making quick work of your regular order and then you’re stepping aside, throwing another apology towards the stranger before finding a seat and sitting with a deep exhale.

The rain comes down harder because of course it does. You mentally add embarrassing yourself in front of the first decent looking guy you’ve seen in a while to your list with a quiet groan. Melting back into the chair, you take a moment to fully bask in your somewhat dry clothes and shoes before inevitably having to end up running through the torrential downpour back to the office.

A to-go cup is placed gently in front of you, your name scrawled across the side, and you blink dumbly at it before following up along the arm until you’re looking at the man from the line. He’s smiling again, his own coffee in hand and the other now buried in his pants pocket.

“Someone’s away with the fairies today.” He notes light-heartedly, and then gestures over his shoulder. “They called your name – I hope it’s okay that I bought it over.”

You blink again, and only when his brow quirks ever so slightly do you snap out of your reverie. 

“Oh God, I’m sorry. I’m not usually this spacey.”

His face softens, lips quirking into a sympathetic smile. “Bad day?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” You reply dryly, eyeing the rain as you stand. “Thanks for bringing my coffee over. It probably would’ve been stone cold by the time I came back to Earth.”

You’re rewarded with a deep chuckle and it sends a little flutter through your chest. You made the pretty stranger laugh – not a total loss of a day, after all.

“I could try and make it better, if you want.”

You raise a brow, smiling shyly. “Oh yeah?”

He nods with a small smile, “Yeah.” He looks over his shoulders and shrugs lightly. “I could get you a slice of banana bread, a muffin, maybe… a gingerbread man? He has mini marshmallows as buttons.” His voice is light, playful, and when his grin widens, you find yourself unable to resist returning it.

You hum in thought, “Sounds like you’re a big fan.”

He chuckles, looking down as he nods. “Yeah look, I may eat colourfully decorated marshmallow buttoned gingerbread men more than a fully functioning adult of my age should.” He admits, grinning as you chuckle. “We could grab a table... maybe talk for a bit?” He watches you check your watch, hope growing in his chest at the thought of getting to know the pretty distracted stranger a little better over coffee.

“As tempting as that sounds, my break is almost over and I’m pushing it for time.” His face falls a little and you mirror his disappointment, briefly wondering if your boss would let you off if you tell her all about the pretty stranger at the coffee shop. “Thank you for the offer, though…”

“Marcus,” he smiles, shaking your hand firmly. The encasing warmth of his hand is enough to send a thrill through you, and your heart flutters in nervous excitement. The feeling doubles as he murmurs your name, pointing to your cup before you could ask how he knows.

You duck your head, smiling warmly at him before turning to the door and bracing for the wet chill that’s about to take hold. A warm hand softly pulls your arm back, and you turn back to him in question. He’s looking at your empty hands with a frown.

“Don’t you have an umbrella? Or a jacket at least?” Marcus asks, frown deepening when you shake your head.

“No, it was sunny when I left this morning – bad day.” You explain, a smile still tugging at your lips despite the downpour bombarding the street. There was something about this kind and pretty stranger that had you unable to stop smiling, and your cheeks were starting to pay the price with a lingering ache.

“Well, you can’t go out there without one, here – have mine.” He reaches past you and grabs the dripping umbrella propped up by the door, holding it out to you expectantly.

You recoil instantly, “What? No!”

“Please. It’s bad out there!”

As if to cement his argument, a snap of thunder crackles overhead, the rain increasing, and you cringe instantly.

Still, you shake your head and push his hand away, “I can’t take your umbrella! What about you?”

“I drove here – my car’s around the corner. Please, take it.”

You weigh up your options, not wanting to leave the handsome stranger with nothing to keep himself dry, but ultimately, it’s his pleading puppy eyes that completely win you over and then you’re reaching out, taking the umbrella softly and desperately trying to get a hold of your rapid heartbeat.

“Thank you, Marcus.”

He shrugs, an easy grin stretching his features and your eyes fall to glance over it appreciatively. He had a damn good smile. “Don’t mention it.”

“My knight in shining suit.” You coo, chuckling at the flush of faint pink that washes across his cheeks. “I can’t tell you how much this has turned my day around.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” And he truly is.

You linger a moment longer, grinning as he turns slightly bashful under your heavy scrutiny. “It was really nice to meet you, Marcus.”

He beams, “You, too.”

With a small wave, you disappear into the rain and Marcus sighs softly, watching you go with a small flicker of regret at the missed opportunity. Umbrella and your number next time, Pike, he scolds himself solemnly.

His nose curls as he watches the rain for a moment and then sighs deeply, reaching for the lapel of his jacket. He pulls it over his head and briefly thinks about his car, still parked in the nice and dry parking garage back at the bureau. He’s not at all sorry for telling you a little white lie to get you to take his umbrella, you needed something in this weather and it was his absolute pleasure to provide. Knight in shining suit. It had him smiling to himself the entire run back to the office, despite the downpour that had him saturated in the first two minutes.

He keeps an eye out over the next few days, intentionally going for lunch at the same time as that rainy day in hopes he’d see you again. Every day, he was left walking back with a feeling of disappointment, but not letting it crush his hope for the next day.

It’s not until over a week later when he’s standing in line, the café busier than usual, when he hears a familiar voice pipe up from behind him.

“I’ve heard the gingerbread men here are pretty good.”

You’re already smiling when he turns to face you, a grin of his own creasing his cheeks.

“I’ve been keeping an eye out for you.” He admits, nodding when you tilt your head with a curious oh? “Just making sure you’re not holding up any more lines – people need their coffee, after all. Can’t be waiting around all day.” He teases, laughing when you softly shove him playfully.

Shaking your head, you step up next to him and lean in to his side, “So guess what?”

He chuckles softly to himself, looking at you expectantly. “What?”

“I took a long lunch. Well, actually, I’ve been taking long lunches all week hoping to see you.” You admit, somewhat shyly. Were you coming on too strong? You hope not. It’s only been a week and you had missed him like you had known him longer than five minutes. You weren’t sure whether to be slightly concerned that a literal stranger had you so caught up in a whirl or thrilled that you had finally met someone who seemed genuinely decent.

He smiles softly, relieved that this little thing between you both wasn’t one sided. “I’ve been hoping to see you, too. I actually –”

“Hey, move it along!”

You startle, turning to frown at the irritated man behind you when Marcus chuckles and offers a small apology over his shoulder, before reaching for your hand and gently pulling you the short distance to the counter to order. You barely take notice of him and the barista talking, instead focusing on your hand now wrapped up in his, his thumb rubbing softly across your knuckles, and how it’s making your body thrum with electricity. You smile to yourself, eyes flicking back up to his face to find him looking at you expectantly, brow firmly raised with a small smirk.

You blink. “What?”

[sir-subpar]

Where have you been? (Part 2)

*Warning: Blood/Gore*

Five weeks. That's how long Boyfriend had been missing. Five weeks with still no sign of the blue-haired man, it was starting to drive Pico mad. The longer this went on, the harder it was for Pico to think positively. He was starting to struggle with sleep, sometimes going days without so much as a wink of rest. His fiery orange hair was messy from him constantly running his fingers through it. It was hard to relax when someone you care about was unaccounted for. Whitty and Hex were still helping out, which Pico appreciated, but it did little to ease his fears. The three of them met up and searched for Boyfriend as often as they could.

It was late in the afternoon, another day going by with no luck finding Boyfriend. The trio had resorted to putting up missing posters for Bf, splitting up to scatter them around town. It did little to help, especially when random vandals would tear them down or draw all over them. Every time Pico saw one of the posters being ruined it pissed Pico off to no end. He didn't think it was possible to want to strangle a graffiti artist as much as he did. By some miracle of willpower he refrained from doing so (that, and he didn't know who was doing it). Pico sighed angrily as he hung another poster, his thumb turning white as he pushed the tacks into a wooden pole. His gaze lingered on the poster. In the picture, Bf was smiling. He looked so happy.. Pico felt his chest tighten around his heart. It felt hard to breathe, but not impossible. He clutched the front of his vest, fidgeting with the teeth of the zipper. Pico could only imagine what Boyfriend was going through, and his imagination was not kind. As much as he tried to ignore the worst possibilities, he struggled to stay positive. 

What if Boyfriend was dead? 

He hated the idea. He didn't want to think about it. Surely he was alive. He had to be somewhere! Anywhere! He couldn't be dead! Pico tried to ground himself by thinking of other possibilities. Maybe Bf was just hiding from everyone because he didn't want Gf and her family to know where he was. Pico grit his teeth as more anger suddenly rose from his core. Girlfriend… he was honestly starting to resent her. Sure, most people don't want to see their ex after a breakup. Pico understood that, sure, whatever. But when someone goes missing, it's good to help find them. Especially when you're the last one to have seen them…

Pico was suddenly brought back to reality when he heard his phone buzzing in his pocket. Whitty was calling. The two exchanged phone numbers after they went to that diner weeks ago. Pico tapped the green icon to answer, and brought the phone to his ear. "Hey Whitty. What's up?" Pico asked, his anger faded a bit, now being distracted with the sound of Whitty's voice. "I just wanted to let you know that Hex can't help us for a few days. He's got some computer virus that's apparently been a bitch to remove." Whitty sounded agitated. Pico figured he was probably worried about his best friend. "Is he gonna be ok?" Pico asked, he was already missing one person, he didn't want to lose another. "Yeah, some tech guy's helping him out. He should be fine soon..." Whitty paused. "Hey, do you want to meet up? I'm out of posters to hang." Whitty's tone changed a bit, Pico couldn't quite figure out why, but he brushed it off. It didn't matter anyway. "Yeah, I'll pick you up. Where are you?"

…

Pico drove in silence as Whitty sat in the passenger seat. He felt a little bad for the bomb man as even with the seat pushed all the way back, he barely fit in the car. Pico's car just wasn't designed with people over 8ft tall in mind. Whitty had the chair leaned back so he wouldn't hit his head on the ceiling, his knees were bent just so he could fit in the car. Whitty's hands were in his pockets, despite the lack of space in the car, he seemed like he was relaxing a bit. 

"Hey Pico." Whitty broke the silence. Pico let out a hum, signaling he was listening. "I had this random idea for the next place we should check."  "Hmm?" Was Pico's only reply. He was tired, but he wasn't gonna quit for the day just yet. "You know that bridge close to the freeway? The one over the ditch?" Pico had to think for a moment before he caught on. "You think he might be hiding out in the ditch?" Pico asked, a little glimmer of hope making itself known. Whitty shrugged. "Maybe. I dunno. It's a common place to hide." Pico turned on his blinker, he had to drive to the opposite side of town to get there but at this rate it wasn't a big deal. If there was even a chance of Boyfriend being there, he had to take it. He had to make sure Bf was safe. 

…

After Pico parked the car, he and Whitty climbed down into the dry ditch. It was now night, the darkness making it hard to see anything. Except Whitty's eyes, that is. In the complete darkness, Pico noticed Whitty's orange eyes were glowing. He could partially see the tall man's body as the warm light from his eyes reflected off of him. Pico found it fascinating. It was oddly comforting, like a fireplace. Pico found himself getting lost in them.

 "... Pico?" Whitty's voice interrupted Pico's stupor. Turns out the inside of Whitty's mouth glowed too. "Huh? What?" Pico asked, a little lost thanks to his little daydream. "Are you alright? You seemed out of it." Whitty asked, shifting awkwardly as he stood. Pico felt uneasy, did Whitty see something in the dark that he hasn't noticed yet? Were they alone? Pico quickly shoved his hand in his pocket and whipped out his flashlight. As soon as he turned it on, and the light flooded the ditch, he realized no one else was near them (at least no one was close enough to see). So why was Whitty uncomfortable? Like someone was staring at him? 

Wait… 

Pico had almost physically face-palmed. He was staring at Whitty. He just stood there in silence and stared at this dude's face in the darkness. From Whitty's point of view, that probably came off as creepy. Now he felt a bit guilty for being so weird. Damn it, he had to say something to break this weird silence! But what? Should he apologize? Or just brush it off so they don't have to talk about it? 'Damn it Pico, say something! Anything!' He mentally chastised himself. Just when he was about to blurt out what probably would have been nonsense, Whitty piped up. "Did my eyes creep you out?" Whitty asked, sounding disheartened. Pico suddenly panicked, speaking before his brain could filter it. "What- No! No. Not at all. Your eyes are cool! Like a jack o lantern or something. They're neat! They like.." Pico cleared his throat to compose himself again. He had to give a rational response. "I think your eyes are fascinating. I didn't mean to offend you, I just got distracted. I'm sorry." Pico's face turned a light shade of pink out of embarrassment. He hoped his disjointed response would somehow make the situation less awkward. Whitty's eyes widened, and his cheeks glowed a bit as his expression shifted from surprised to bashful. He started rubbing the back of his head, a nervous habit, Pico assumed. "I… thanks. I've had people say my eyes remind them of Jack O lanterns before, but I think this is only the second time someone's used it as a compliment. Bf was the first." Whitty confessed, his tone sounding fond. Pico smiled a bit, of course B would say something like that. Pico snapped out of his trail of thought before he got more distracted with reminiscing. "Speaking of… we should get back to looking for him." Pico stated, bring their focus back to the task at hand. Whitty nodded. The two chose to walk throughout the ditch, hopefully they'd eventually find a sign of Boyfriend under these bridges. 

Each step they took echoed off of the cement around them. It was a little eerie. Pico was glad that he wasn't alone, Whitty seemed like he could hold his ground. It was comforting. After a few minutes, they came across a blanket laid out next to a few plastic water bottles. They couldn't necessarily say they belonged to Boyfriend, but it felt like they were on the right track at least. They continued their walk, hoping to find more signs of Bf. A few more mostly uneventful minutes went by, then they saw someone not too far ahead of them. Pico lowered his light a bit so it wasn't shining in their eyes, but he could still see them pretty clearly. They were leaning their back against the wall of the ditch with their arms crossed. They had what appeared to be a goat skull for a head with long horns er.. Horn. Pico noticed that one of their horns had clearly been broken off. Their face had multiple large cracks all over it. He wore a dark blue hoodie that matched his hat. His jeans were either a darker shade of blue or black, Pico couldn't quite tell. The skull-faced stranger had turned their head to look at Pico and Whitty, clearly having noticed Pico's flashlight. His black eye sockets with glowing yellow pupils staring them down. Pico admittedly got a shady vibe from him, but he was accustomed to shady people due to his type of work. He decided to approach the man, but not get too close, he just needed to know if he had seen Boyfriend. "Hey. Mind we ask you something?" Pico called, hoping the stranger would cooperate. "What do you want?" The horned stranger rudely snapped in a clear Russian accent, he was clearly agitated. Pico wasn't that fazed by the man's rudeness, again, he was used to that kind of behavior (not to mention he wasn't all that polite or well mannered himself). "We just have some questions. We're looking for a friend of ours, maybe you've seen him around." The man appeared to relax a bit after hearing that. His expression was less aggressive. "What does your friend look like?" He asked, his tone a bit less harsh than before. Pico pulled his phone from his pocket and scrolled through his gallery until he found a picture of him and Boyfriend. He turned the phone around to face the man. As soon as he saw the photo, his eye sockets widened, and he tilted his head back a bit in surprise. "Boyfriend?" The man questioned.

Now it was Whitty and Pico's turn to be surprised. "You know him?" Whitty asked, bewildered at the man's recognition of Bf. "Yes, we are… acquainted. I see him a lot lately." That, admittedly, made Pico angrier than it probably should have. This guy knew where Bf was while no one else did. B had trusted this guy instead of Pico? Or Whitty? Pico once again asked himself the question that plagued his mind for weeks. 'Why didn't he come to me?' Pico tightened his grip on his flashlight. He should be glad. They finally had a potential lead. Pico forced the irrationality down for what felt like the 100th time that day. "Do you know where he is?" 'Please. Tell me you know where he is.'  Pico begged internally. The man nodded his head in a 'sort of' fashion. "I know where he's been hiding lately. It's not too far from here." He looked around a bit, as if checking to see if they were alone. "You know that little theater on Chavez road? The closed one? He's been around there lately. You'll find him if you go there." Pico suddenly felt a small rush of relief. That sounded promising. "Thank you, Mr..?" "Tabi" "Thank you Tabi. We appreciate it. Oh! I'm Pico, by the way. This is Whitty." Whitty waved, and Tabi nodded in acknowledgment. Tabi bagan to walk away. "Take care of Boyfriend you too. He's fragile right now." He called before departing. "We will," Whitty replied, "Thank you." Pico mumbled one more time before he and Whitty rushed towards the car. 

…

For the first time in weeks, Pico felt hope. He felt almost giddy in a sense. Soon this nightmare could be over. Soon Bf could be safe. But there was still a chance that they wouldn't find Bf. There were a lot of emotions running rampant in his head. Nerves, excitement, doubt. He couldn't remember the last time he was this conflicted. Various 'what ifs' both positive and negative coming forth to give their piece of mind. Pico gripped the steering wheel of his car tightly, his knuckles turning white. 

Tabi's words echoed in his head. 'Take care of Boyfriend, he's fragile right now.'   

Was this all really because of Bf and Gf's breakup? It just felt extreme. Most people don't go missing for weeks after a breakup. Especially Boyfriend. This was out of character for him. He hated being alone. There was more to it. There had to be. Pico was sure of it. 

Pico pulled over as the old theatre came into view. The decorative walls were a bit worn, but still beautiful. He knew this old place fairly well, it made him a little sad when it was shut down. Pico and Whitty stepped out of the car. Whitty stretched his arms, glad he could stand at his full height again. The bomb man looked at the various posters on the theater's walls, each one advertised some sort of play or performance. "Huh." Was all Whitty said. "What's up?" Pico asked. "I don't know why, but I thought this was going to be a movie theater. I didn't realise it was one of those performing arts places." Whitty replied. Pico turned to Whitty. "You've never been here before?" Pico asked, genuinely surprised. Whitty only shook his head in response. "Aw man, that's a bummer. This place was nice. It was family-owned, a local theater, ya know? It went bankrupt, but when it was open it was cool… B loved it here." Pico's tone shifted as he reminisced. Going from casual to bittersweet. Whitty tilted his head curiously, waiting for Pico to continue. He didn't make eye contact with Whitty, instead focusing his gaze on the theater's doors. "Ya know… sometimes, after a show, the owners would let B and I use the stage. We'd sing there for as long as they let us. We did it almost every week." Pico couldn't help but feel nostalgic. He remembered those times so well. It was years ago, back when he and B were together. They were memories he cherished. "Sounds like it was fun." Whitty commented briefly. "It was." Pico's tone continued to be bittersweet. Deep down, he hoped that he and Boyfriend could have what they did back then. He always regretted letting B go, but never said anything. Once Boyfriend found someone else, he figured he'd never have a chance again. Pico's vision started to blur slightly. 'Goddammit Pico! Now's not the time!' He mentally chastised himself, he didn't want to cry. Not when Bf was still lost. Not in front of Whitty. He was able to bury this before, he could do it again. Pico did his best to refocus on the task at hand. He needed to stop doing this. 

Pico cleared his throat.

"A-Anyway, we should look for Boyfriend. He's probably around here somewhere." Whitty nodded. Pico was thankful that Whitty didn't pry into his emotions. He'd rather NOT talk about that at the moment, thank you very much. "Let's check inside." Whitty proposed, Pico gave a brief sound of agreement before pulling the front door's handle. Surprisingly it was unlocked. Was Tabi right? Was Boyfriend here? Did he unlock it? Pico made a mental note about the door and continued inside, Whitty following just behind him. Once again he needed his trusty flashlight. The theater was usually dark as is, but it was extra dark with it being the middle of the night. While in said darkness, Pico was briefly reminded of earlier that night when he stared at Whitty's eyes for an uncomfortable amount of time. Pico's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. This was definitely going to be one of those memories that kept him up at night whenever he thought about it. Then, Pico had another thought. "Hey Whitty." "Hm?" "How come you haven't been using a flashlight too? I mean, I don't mind sharing mine, I'm just curious." Pico hoped it wasn't a rude question. "Oh, well, uh.." Whitty began, Pico once again noticing how the inside of Whitty's mouth glowed like his eyes. "I don't really need a flashlight. I can see in the dark." Whitty's cheeks glowled orange a bit, now Pico was convinced that was how Whitty blushed. He found it kinda endearing, to be honest. "That's really cool. Wish I could do that." Pico said and chuckled a bit, feeling a bit lighter in spirit. Whitty also laughed coyly, feeling a bit flattered. "Let's check out the stage first." Whitty directed, already walking towards it. "Yeah, good idea." Pico agreed, following suit. The 'house' was dusty, and the seats clearly hadn't been used in a while. Well, most of them hadn't. Pico paused, getting a better look. He quickly noticed that a few of them had been folded out, the armrests were raised, and what looked like a shiney red blanket was draped across them. Someone had been using them as a makeshift bed, Pico realized. Someone was definitely here. "Psst, hey Whitty." Whitty turned around to face him, Pico waved his hand in a 'come here' gesture. Whitty nodded and approached him. 

The tall bomb headed man leaned over Pico, looking down the same row of seats he was. It didn't take him long to catch on. "We must be on the right track. Wait, is that a curtain?" Whitty reached over Pico to pick up and hold the 'blanket' which was, in fact, part of a stage curtain that had been cut. Pico felt his heart clench. B was using a curtain for a blanket, he must be cold. Pico looked at the chairs/bed. One of the seats had a pile of clothes/costumes haphazardly bunched together, probably being used as a pillow. This was just… sad. Bf didn't deserve to live like this. 

While Pico looked at the seats, Whitty took a second to inspect the curtain. It was red on one side, and white on the other side- wait, no, the other side had red too. In weird splotches and smear-like patterns. Whitty held it stretched out in front of him, the white and red patterned side facing him. The patterns looked inconsistent not just in size and shape, but in hue as well. Some of the red splotches looked darker almost..wet, while others looked faded, like stains. Whitty touched one of the darker red spots with his thumb, surprised when it was actually wet. Realization suddenly dawned on him, this wasn't a pattern. Now he was worried. "Hey Pico?" His scratchy voice quietly called, Pico turned around to look Whitty in the eyes. Whitty held the curtain in a way that only let Pico see the shiney full-red side and not the 'patterns'. "I'm not entirely human, so correct me if I'm wrong but… human blood is red, right?" Pico gave him a confused and worried look, then nodded hesitantly. "That's what I was afraid of." Whitty admitted, turning the curtain around so Pico could see. Pico's white eyes shot open wide, before giving Whitty a panicked look. Pico's heart dropped.

Just as Pico was about to say something, there was a loud *CRASH* from a distance. 

Pico and Whitty's attention snapped towards the stage, it looked like a shelf had fallen over from backstage. Frantic footsteps could be heard. Neither of them had to say anything, they both bolted towards all the noise. Running up the small stairs to the stage. They ran towards the backstage area. Their own footsteps echoing as their shoes hit the wooden floorboards. Whitty, with his longer strides, took the lead ahead of Pico. Once they arrived at the backstage room, they saw the metal Exit door slowly closing. Whitty slammed it back open, dashing through it, Pico not far behind him. Once outside, they had stumbled into a fenced in parking lot. Street lights illuminated the empty lot, now they could see the other person running away from them. They were short, around Pico's height. They had a black hoodie on, the hood was up so they couldn't see their head. Even so, Pico was sure that it was Boyfriend. It had to be. 

The hooded person ran into the parking lot's locked gate. Attempting to climb over it, but they weren't fast enough. Pico and Whitty were on their tail. They still tried, though. They were clearly struggling to get up the fence's bars, it looked like they kept slipping, like they couldn't grip the bars. Just as they were about to make another attempt to climb, Whitty caught up to them. The tall bomb man swiftly wrapped his hands around their torso, easily lifting them off the ground. Like holding a kitten. They helplessly swung their arms and legs, attempting to free themself from Whitty's grip. Amidst all their wild flailing, the hood came down, revealing a familiar face with blue hair. Boyfriend. They found him.

"N-no! Let me go! P-Put me down!" Boyfriend yelled, his voice filled with panic. His eyes were closed, and tears soaked his cheeks. Whitty knelt down to bring Boyfriend closer to the ground, still not letting go. "Hey! Hey… Boyfriend, it's just us. It's okay." Whitty did his best to keep his scratchy voice steady, hoping to calm down the terrified bluette. Despite not having the most soothing voice, it seemed to help a bit. Bf stopped flailing and yelling for the moment, his eyes snapped open. He seemed to have come to a sudden halt. His fearful eyes scanned the environment around him. Pico tried to approach him slowly, he didn't want to spook the poor guy more, but he too, was shaking. He had seen Boyfriend scared before, sure, but not like this. This was a new level of absolute terror. He looked so… fragile. Like if someone so much as flicked him, he'd fall to pieces. This was a far cry from the Boyfriend Pico knew. The dumb, reckless, confident man was no where to be found. What really struck Pico though, was the noticeable dampness of Boyfriend's hoodie sleeves. Pico figured he must have been injured, and he had to help. 

In the moment though, he was overwhelmed. He was happy that they found him. He was also worried about him. Part of him was angry. After all the weeks spent searching for Boyfriend, after spending those weeks bottling up all his frustrations, fears, grief, worry. He had reached his tipping point. He couldn't hold back anymore. The tears in his own eyes couldn't be stopped this time. Pico threw away his inhibitions, and just ran up to hug Boyfriend. Pico buried his face in the crook of Boyfriend's neck, and dug his fingers into his blue hair. He was there, they actually found him. And he'd be damned if he lost Bf again. His own face was wet with tears. "G-god Damn it you- you fucking idiot. Don't scare me like that again. F-fuck." Pico's voice shook, sobbing, his cries making it harder to speak. Whitty let go of Boyfriend's torso, instead wrapping his arms around both Pico and Boyfriend, trying not to cry himself (emphasis on tried). A few of his hot, orange tears fell onto the other two boys, but neither seemed to notice.

After a few moments, Whitty and Pico pulled back from the hug. Pico kept his hands on Boyfriend's shoulders, he didn't want to let go. His attention was once again brought to the dampness of Bf's hoodie, he knew it had to be blood. "B… let's go home." Apparently that was the wrong thing for Pico to say, as soon as he did, Boyfriend panicked again. "I-! N-no! I don't want to see her again please Pico-! Don't make me go back!" Pico rushed to ask what was wrong, startled by Bf's reaction. "B, who are you talking about?" Pico gently grabbed Boyfriend's hands, he wanted to be comforting, but that changed when he noticed Bf heavily flinched, and his hands were wet. Pico gently brought Bf's hands into the light. His hands were cracked and bleeding. Badly. The skin and flesh looked like it was just barely holding on to the bones. Some of the blood was dry and crusty, while some of it was fresh. Pico furrowed his brow. "B… what happened?" Bf began crying again. "Gf.. She.." Bf's voice trembled, his lip quivered. He started sobbing. Whitty's orange eyes widened, in a spur of the moment, Whitty gathered both the shorter males in his arms. Lifting them off the ground and standing at his full height. "Hey Pico, why don't we all head to your place?" Pico nodded, still holding Bf's hands. "You can stay with me, B. I promise I won't take you to Girlfriend. She won't even know we found you, okay?" Bf looked into Pico's white eyes, then Whitty's orange ones, before slowly nodding and letting out a barely audible "okay". 

Whitty carried them to Pico's car, he decided to sit in the back with Boyfriend so he wouldn't be alone while Pico drove the car (they moved the front passenger seat as far up as they could to make more legroom for him). Bf was huddled to Whitty's side, the tall, warm, bomb man made him feel safe. Whitty had one of his arms wrapped around Boyfriend, hoping to comfort him. The bluette was still crying, but not as much as before, he seemed to have calmed down slightly. No words were exchanged during the car trip to Pico's house. 

Once they arrived, Whitty gently carried Bf into Pico's house and carefully set him down on Pico's couch. Pico ran off to grab his first aid kit from his hallway closet, mentally preparing himself for how wrecked the rest of Bf's arms might look. He didn't want to end up freaking out and scaring Bf more. Pico moved to sit next to Boyfriend on the couch. "Okay B, show me what hurts." Boyfriend seemed hesitant, Whitty, who was sitting at Bf's other side, rubbed his back. The small gesture seemed to comfort Bf a little, and he removed the black hoodie he was wearing, hissing as the fabric pulled away from his wounds; he was only wearing a tank top under it, so the damage to his arms was revealed easily. Boyfriend's arms looked worse than his hands did somehow. Cracked and bleeding, in some places, it looked like the skin had stitches only to fall apart more and undo them. He could see the bone in Bf's elbow and shoulder. 

Pico felt sick. It was a mystery how Boyfriend wasn't just screaming in anguish. Pico took a quick glance at Whitty, who also looked appalled at the gorey sight before them. Pico looked into Boyfriend's teary eyes, then back at his arms. "We should take ya to the hospital." Pico said nervously, his gauze and hydrogen peroxide couldn't fix this. "I-I already tried that. They couldn't- *sniff* they couldn't stop it. I-It's magic." Bf confessed, Pico noticed Whitty's expression changed from shock to sympathetic. Whitty gestured to Bf's arms "Was this Girlfriend's magic?" Boyfriend nodded. Pico felt rage bubbling in his core. His attempt to keep calm and collected was thrown out the window. "Did she do this on purpose!? That's it! Imma beat her ass!" Pico whipped out his gun. Furious. "I'm gonna pump that bitch full of lead!" Pico was about to storm out his house when both Boyfriend and Whitty stopped him. "PICO DON'T!" Bf and Whitty said in unison. Whitty gripped Pico's arm (which was super easy seeing as his hand was big enough for his fingers to wrap all the way around Pico's forearm), and Boyfriend hugged him, burying his face in the crook of Pico's neck. "Why the fuck are you two stopping me!?" Pico shouted, still undeniably pissed. "Please don't go, Pico!" Bf cried. "Listen dude, as much as I'd love to see ya give that girl more holes than swiss cheese, if you even try it, her family will kill you. Plus, if ya went to her now, they'll know we found Bf, and who knows what they'd do to him then!"

Pico hated to admit it, but Whitty was right. He'd just make it worse by confronting Girlfriend. Her family was powerful, her parents would definitely come after all of them if he tried to do anything to her. His anger was screaming at him to go and blast her with his Uzi, but reason objected to it. Pico sighed, and put his gun on the table. "Alright. Yer right. I'm sorry." Bf hugged him tighter. "Thank you." He said quietly. "Well, if I can't shoot that bitch, let's at least try to solve… this." Pico gestured towards Bf's arms, which were bleeding all over him in the hug. Whitty rubbed the back of his head, unsure. "Well, demon magic did this in the first place, maybe another demon can undo it?" Whitty offered, Pico thought about it, it made sense. If hospitals couldn't treat a curse, might as well try magic. "I can't say you're wrong, the issue now is finding a demon who would be willing to help. The only other demon I know I wouldn't trust as far as I could throw her. Do you know anyone?" Whitty shook his head. The three stayed quiet. Pico wracked his brain for anyone who might be helpful. Maybe his dad knew someone who could help? Probably not. His brother definitely hung out with demons and whatnot, but most people his brother hung out with were bad news. Not to mention he hasn't spoken to his older bro in a long ass time. That was a no go. Who else could he ask? Pico glanced at Whitty, he appeared to be going over various options in his head too. They were silent until Boyfriend chirped in. "I might know someone. Maybe tomorrow we can find her?" Pico shrugged. "I guess that's just what we gotta do. For now though, you should go get cleaned up. You remember where the shower is?" Bf nodded, and started walking down the hallway. "I'll bring you some clean clothes you can borrow!" Pico called, Bf replying with a distant "Thank you" before disappearing around the corner. 

Pico made eye contact with Whitty. He might not have known this guy too well, having only met him a couple weeks ago, but the time they spent working together trying to find Boyfriend made Pico appreciate him. He wanted to know more about him. Whitty was so helpful, even managing to calm Pico down when he was two seconds away from snapping. He found the gentle giant fascinating and comforting. "Hey Whitty?" Whitty let out a curious "hmm?" 

"I just wanted to say thanks.. For everything. You've been really helpful and great and.. I really appreciate it." Pico's earnest tone made Whitty's cheeks glow slightly. "It's no problem. You don't have to thank me or anything. I just.. Wanted Bf to be safe too, ya know?" Pico nodded understandably. "I wish we coulda met under better circumstances. You seem like a great guy, I uh… I'd really like to keep hangin out with you. Maybe once we get this whole curse thing sorted out, we should do something together? Maybe all three of us should." Pico felt color flooding in his own cheeks now, feeling somewhat nervous. Whitty smiled. "I'd like that." Pico let out a small chuckle. "Cool. Cool. Sounds good." 

An awkward lull took the conversation, neither saying much. Whitty eventually stood up and stretched, feeling a bit sleepy. "Well, I should head out. I'm gettin tired. Want me to meet up with you guys here tomorrow?" Pico hesitantly nodded, he almost offered to just let Whitty stay the night, but if he had plans to go home, who was Pico to stop him? "Sounds good. Imma uh.. Get some clothes for B." Pico attempted to make the situation less awkward, he was never good at goodbyes. "Yeah, that'd be good. I'll see you tomorrow." Whitty and Pico parted ways after that. Now, Pico just had to help Boyfriend. Hopefully this woman he was talking about can reverse whatever demon spell was on him..

Pico let Bf borrow his spare pajamas, and threw Bf's clothes in the wash. He wasn't sure if the washing machine was gonna be able to get all the blood out. As he was going through it, he noticed that the inside of Bf's jeans were bloody too, the curse must've been affecting his legs as well. Pico kept the 1st aid kit out, that way he could bandage what was left of Boyfriend's limbs. While Pico tended to the bluette's wounds, he made small talk with Boyfriend, hoping it would put him at ease. It seemed to help. Eventually it became time to turn in for the night. Both boys were exhausted.

 "Hey Pico?"

 "Yeah B?" 

"Can I sleep in your bed with you? I don't wanna be alone."

"... Yeah. C'mere."

"Thanks Pico."

"No prob. G'night B."

"Good night Pico."

[kalimagik]

Strawberry

Fred Weasley x Pregnant!Reader

Word Count: 5k

Requested by @coffee-wihtout-caffeine​ - “Can I request Fred x reader where it’s throughout her pregnancy with supportive Weasley family? Like the entire pregnancy just bits through each month and dealing with the symptoms. Tia”

A/N: I had SO much fun writing this. I was so excited the whole time (i love babies and think pregnancy is beautiful, so I may have gotten carried away). It’s super fluffy, has something for each month, and a whole lot of cute Fred and a supportive Weasley family! It’s not my usual writing style, but still so fun. Feedback is always welcome! Comment, like, reblog! Happy Reading <3 (also, I got too excited to wait til tonight to post it, so its coming early)

Month 1

It had to be the stomach flu, what else could it be? Fred left you in bed that morning after you spent most of the night with your head over the toilet. You racked your mind, trying to figure out where you would have caught the stomach flu. That’s when it hit you. Running to the nearest convenience store, you bought the tests, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

You looked at the pregnancy test again and the other 3 that sat on the vanity, all positive. No, you and Fred weren’t trying for a baby, but you weren’t not trying either. A baby…you were going to have a baby, Fred’s baby.

The butterflies in your stomach were going to have a roommate. The thought made your lips curl into a grin as you looked into the mirror. A baby! Now you just had to tell Fred. Knowing you had a few hours, you rushed around the house like a mad woman. The rest of the day consisted of picking up, making dinner, and making yourself look presentable and not like you had spent most of the day in bed. The day also included throwing up every now and then, but you were actually kind of excited each time because it was just a reminder of the little boy or girl growing in your stomach.

When Fred walked through the door, you had your favorite “Love Songs” playlist playing, the dinner table set, and candles lit throughout the entire flat. “Is someone feeling better?” Fred called out above the music.

“Freddie! I’m in here,” you sang, still cleaning up pots and pans from dinner.

“What is all of this?” Fred asked, eyes widening at the sight laid out in front of him. “Did I forget an anniversary or something?” he chuckled, knowing very well that he didn’t. “This is wonderful, love. But, what did I do to deserve this?”

“Just sit down and you’ll find out!” You beamed, bringing Fred’s favorite food to the table, his mother’s meatballs with onion sauce with a treacle tart and cream puffs on the side for dessert.

“24 hour stomach flu pass?”

“Uhhh, for the most part,” you skirted around the subject a bit. You had a plan to tell him about the baby.

Dinner went by with your usual conversations about the day, the shop, and how George and the rest of the Weasleys were doing. When tart had been dished out, you stood up from your seat and went behind the couch to get your little gift.

“Okay, what is going on?” Fred asked, now confused as to why he got his favorite dinner, dessert, and now a present. “Did you do something I should be angry about? Did someone else do something that I should be taking credit for?”

“No, silly,” you giggle, sitting the present in front of him. “Just open this!” You watch him intently while standing as he takes the tissue paper out of the bag and unwraps the first little gift. The white tissue paper fell to the floor as he unfolded a little white onesie that read “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.”

“What’s this for? I’m not going to be an uncle or something am I? Is George around here trying to punk me?”

You just shook your head, an amused, close lipped smile set on your face. “Open the next one.”

Fred stuck his hand back into the small, blue bag and pulled out the long box that had probably once held a bracelet. When he pulled the lid off, there was the 4th and final positive pregnancy test that you had taken earlier in the day. Fred looked up at you, eyes wide. The hand not holding the box with the test reached for the onesie as he put two and two together.

“Are you- Is this? Does this mean-” You just nodded as he stumbled over his words.

“I’m pregnant,” you told him with a laugh/cry. Honestly, you weren’t sure what the noise was, but it was a happy one. Fred flew out of his seat so quickly to embrace you that his chair fell to the floor with a loud clatter.

“You’re pregnant?” he asked again once he finally let you go and stopped kissing your face. You could only nod as the happy tears streamed down your face. “Oh, I guess I shouldn’t hug you so hard. Wouldn’t want to hurt the little lad or gal would I?”

“I think the little Weasley will be okay,” you smirk, hugging Fred a little tighter.

“So when can I tell George?”

You laugh as you kiss Fred’s cheek. “Not just yet, darling. Let’s see a doctor first”

Month 2

“So I can tell Georgie right after this right?” Fred asked as you sat in a room at St. Mungo’s waiting for the doctor.

“I enjoy you pretending to wait for my permission when I know you already told him,” you laugh, squeezing Fred’s hand while he helps you onto the chair for the mothers to be. “He was not very subtle when I came by the shop the other day. He was talking about inventing baby friendly products for the shop.” You rolled your eyes sarcastically at the memory.

“Okay, I may have apparated to our little flat above the shop where he was at the time after you fell asleep the night that you told me.” He pouted, looking for forgiveness from you.

You had to stifle your giggles when the doctor knocked on the door to let you know that she was entering.

“Good afternoon Y/N,” she smiled at you as she pulled out the contraption for looking at the baby’s growing form. “I see you have Fred Weasley with you again.”

The last appointment, he may or may not have dropped a dung bomb that made its way into his jacket pocket accidentally on their way out.

“Hello there, Dr. Woodson,” Fred grimaced. “Good to see you again. Don’t worry, I double checked my pockets before coming this time.”

“Very good,” your doctor nodded curtly. “Well then, let’s get started, shall we?”

Your doctor talked you through the images that you and Fred saw on the screen. “Your baby is now about the size of a pomegranate seed since you’re in the 6th week,” she finished. You sat and watched in awe. The baby was so much bigger than just a few weeks ago when you were in for the first visit that confirmed your pregnancy. “Do you have any questions for me?” Dr. Woodson asked at the end of the appointment.

You shook your head, already having read all about it in the pregnancy books you had bought a few weeks earlier. Fred was the one to pipe up. “So, my brother’s wife was pregnant a year ago or so, and she got really, really cranky. Is my wife going to do that too?”

“Fred?!” you scoffed, playfully slapping him in the arm.

“You see, it’s already starting a little bit and I was just wondering how bad it will actually get.” He continued ignoring you.

Your doctor chuckled slightly before she stood up with your charts in hand. “It was good to see you both again. Y/N, you can schedule your next appointment at the front desk on your way out. Send me an owl if you have any questions or concerns.”

After saying goodbye, Fred helped you off the chair, even though he didn’t have to, and you dressed back into your clothes that were not yet maternity wear, but starting to get a little snug in some areas.

“All ready, love?” he asked after you dressed.

“Let’s go.”

Month 3

“Are you ready?” Fred asked as you stood at the door of his childhood home. He was grinning from ear to ear. Today was the day that the two of you had decided to tell his family about the baby. You told your parents a few days earlier and they couldn’t be happier, but that was two people. Now it was time to face Fred’s parents, six siblings, and all of their significant others.

“Very ready,” you smiled back. Fred had been sitting on the edge of his seat for nearly a month whenever you visited. It was the end of your third month and therefore an appropriate time to start telling the family.

“Mum! We’re here!” Fred called out as he opened the door.

“OHHH! Y/N, Fred! Welcome. I’m so happy you both could make it!”

“We always come for Sunday night dinner, Mrs. Weasley,” you laughed while being buried into one of her notorious bear hugs.

“Woah there, mum. Don’t want to crush Y/N and our-” Fred cut himself off before he let the word ‘baby’ slip. Luckily, Molly was a blur around the house that she hadn’t even noticed. After giving Fred a quick hug, she called up to the rest of the family and feet began stampeding down the stairs.

“Wow, it is getting a little crowded in here,” you laughed as you hugged Ginny, Hermione, George, Ron, Harry and then Bill, Charlie, Fleur and little Victoire. “Even Teddy is here!” you smiled as you hugged the 3 year old with bright blue hair.

“The more the merrier is our motto!” Arthur Weasley boomed as he came into the kitchen as well.

“It’s a good thing that you think that way, dad!” Fred beamed, sharing a quick glance with George. At this rate, the family was going to learn the news before everyone even sat down for dinner.

Pre-dinner chats ensued and then Mrs. Weasley called them all from the living room to the table. That’s when she started handing out the wine. She had decided it was a special occasion because EVERYONE was at dinner. Bill and Fleur were in France the previous week and Charlie was back from Romania for a period of time. Even Percy managed to pull himself away from his busy work life. You looked at Fred with a small, close lipped smile, letting him know that it’s time to spill the news. Everyone would find out soon enough when you refused the wine.

You took your seat next to Fred with Ginny on your other side, leaning into Fred as he wrapped his arm around you and kissed your temple. Then, he cleared his throat to get the 12 other people’s attention.

“I’d like to make a toast,” he announced, raising his glass. “I can’t imagine this night being any better. Spending time with my amazing family, the extensions included,” he nodded to Harry, Hermione, and Fleur. “It’s a big family, but it’s about to get a little bigger. Currently a plum size bigger.” You nudged Fred slightly. He had been making fun of you for announcing which food your baby’s size matched each week.

“Oi, cut to the chase down there. I can’t hold it in for much longer! I’m bursting at the seams over here!” George hollered from the other end of the table.

Your smile grew as you made eye contact with Molly. You could tell she already knew what Fred was going to say, but was letting him break the news.

“Y/N and I are pregnant!” Fred’s signature grin was plastered on his face and you didn’t think that he’d been wiping it off anytime soon.

“This is brilliant!” Ginny cheered as she wrapped an arm around you. “I get to be an aunt, again!” she smiled at Victoire.

“Victoire,” Fleur got the little girl’s attention. “Yoo are going to be a couzin to a ittle boy or girl. Eesn’t zis exciting?”

“Ronald and I can babysit whenever you need a break,” Hermione offered, Ron nodding along, even though he wasn’t too sure if he wanted to be with a baby around his fiancé just yet.

The congratulations and excitement lasted all through dinner. By the end, Bill and Fleur offered you Victoire’s baby clothes if you had a girl, Arthur said he could fix up the cradle they used for all their children, Molly had already started knitting a little hat and bootie set. It was crazy and chaotic, but you loved every second of it. This was your wild family now and the wild family that your baby would get to grow up with.

Month 4

You paced around your flat with a hand on your forehead and one on your stomach. You had just gotten back from your appointment, the high of telling the Weasley family about the pregnancy two nights ago still lingering. Of course, once you went to see Dr. Woodson, the feeling changed.

-

“Oh, that’s interesting,” Dr. Woodson had said as she ran her wand over your stomach to look at the baby.

“What?” you asked. She’d never said anything like that before.

“It seems we may have missed something.” She pulled an image up. “Normally we would catch this earlier, but see that there.” She pointed and you nodded. “Well, there appears to be a second fetus and a second heartbeat that I must have missed before. Y/N Weasley, you are having twins!”

-

Laying down on the couch, you thought about what having twins would mean. Two of everything really. Fred and George’s shop was doing great again and they were acquiring Zonko’s in Hogsmeade too, so money wouldn’t technically be an issue. But, twins! They could be a little Fred and George exactly and that would be a handful. The doctor never said that they were identical necessarily, so you could have a boy and a girl.

“Honey! I’m hoooome!” Fred sang opening the door.

“With your favorite brother-in-law!” George sang after him.

Both twins sat grocery bags on the table. “What’s all this?” you asked, mind still focused on the news you got earlier in the day.

“We have decided to cook you dinner!” George said triumphantly.

You looked at the identical faces that stood before you, both grinning at you. “Fred, we’re having twins!” you blurted out at them, not able to hold it in any longer. Fred dropped the bag he was still holding, apples and oranges rolling all over the floor.

“Twins.” He said, eyes glazed over, looking past you and at the wall, where the onesie that you gave him the day you told him you were pregnant was hanging.

“You’re going to have a mini Fred and I?!” George squealed in excitement. He shook Fred’s shoulders, bringing him back to the present.

“That we are!” you smiled, appreciating the enthusiasm. “Well maybe, we could have girls, or a girl and a boy. We won’t know until the end of next month,” you explained, rambling.

That’s when Fred went into total care mode. “Do you need to sit down? You should be sitting down. Mum always complained about what Georgie and I did to her body and how hard carrying twins was.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. “Freddie,” you giggled, “maybe YOU should sit down!”

“Yes, perhaps I shall, love.” Fred plopped down onto the couch as you went into the kitchen to grab him a cup of water. “Twins, wow.” You heard him breathe out in the living room.

“He is happy about it, just processing,” George whispered to you as he started to put your groceries away.

“I know,” you smiled, “he is going to make a great dad!”

Month 5

Your stomach was really bulging at this point. Two little ones growing in there. You were beyond excited as you slid on a maternity dress with sunflowers plastered all over it. It had become your favorite dress, comfortable, stretchy, it had pockets. But, today, you put it on for your gender reveal party. Originally, you and Fred were going to wait and be surprised by the sex of the babies, but Molly and even George changed your minds.

They agreed that once they received the news, Dr. Woodson would write the genders on pieces of paper, seal them in an envelope, and send them with an owl to Molly. Now, you were getting ready for that party. You were more going along with Fred when you originally said you’d wait to find out the sexes, but now you were giddy!

“Love, are you ready? Everyone is downstairs,” Fred knocked on his childhood door as he opened to take in the room that hadn’t changed in years. You followed Fred down the stairs, him holding your hand the whole way to ensure that you didn’t trip down the stairs. He may be loud, boisterous, and reckless usually, but since he learned about the twins, he treated you as if you were a china doll, it was so sweet.

“Surprise!” a hoard of people called when you exited the Burrow. The Weasleys had completely decked out their yard on the spring evening. Twinkle lights flooded the area with light as the sun set to the west. Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom had brought in tons of flowers that surrounded the tables. All the pinks and blues were bright as can be, signifying the news that was about to be shared with everyone, even the parents.

“Merlin! It’s beautiful! Thank you,” you beamed, taking in as much of the yard at once as possible.

The party was a blast. Blue and pink food. Cute little presents left out with yellows and greens. Tons of little Gryffindor attire, even though you’d be okay with your children being in any of the houses. But the time for the reveal drew closer.

“Y/N, Fred. Stand here,” Molly ordered them. “George is out back setting everything up.”

You were shaking with excitement. Your family and Fred’s family all held sparklers that lit the darkness. The colors reflected off of your and Fred’s skin. He glanced over at you and whispered, “You’ve been glowing this whole time, but you’re really glowing now,” before leaning down and kissing your cheek.

“Everyone ready?” George called from behind the hedge. “3…2…1!”

The sky exploded with fireworks of blue and pink. Your hand flew to your mouth as you took in the sight. “We’re getting a little boy AND a little girl, Freddie,” you laughed, happy to now know. Fred hugged you tightly, leaving just enough room for your protruding belly.

“We’re having a boy and a girl,” he repeated, grinning ear to ear. Everyone let the two of you have your moment before flooding you with hugs and congratulations.

Month 6

“Psssst, Freddie.” You whispered, peaking at the clock quickly. It read 1:30 AM…oops.

“Yes, love,” Fred whispered as he yawned before turning over and lazily slinging an arm over your body.

“I’m hungry…” you said, big, pouty, pleading eyes already in place as Fred opened one of his. “Will you pleeeeease get me some chocolate covered strawberries and the cheesiest nachos you can find?”

“That is the strangest combination that I have ever heard.” Fred grunted as he pushed the blankets down. “You sure you can eat both of those things?”

So far, you had found that you could no longer even look at any kind of fish, tuna was WAY out of the question, the smell of tomatoes made you gag, and turkey was a big no go. In fact, most meat was starting to make you queasy and you could only eat it sometimes.

“It’s what I’m craving, so I think so?”

“Sounds good, love. I’ll be right back.” Fred threw on some pants and a jacket and apparated out of the flat. You laid back in your bed, feeling extremely content as you pulled the blankets up to your chin just to throw them off. You’d been going from freezing to feeling like a million degrees every few minutes.

That familiar pop could be heard as Fred brought the food to you in bed. “Nachos and chocolate covered strawberries for my beautiful, glowing wife. We can never go back to the Spanish restaurant on the corner or the market next to it ever again. You don’t want to know how angry the owners were when I woke them up.”

You had already dug into the food before Fred could undress and get back into bed again. “Are you going to save me any?” he chuckled, sliding back into the sheets.

“Yes, you can have some.” You told him, mouth full and chocolate dribbling down your chin.

“Let me run to the loo before I go to bed again,” Fred told you, getting up once more. By the time he walked back into the room, you were there fast asleep, box of chocolate covered strawberries on one side and box of nachos on the other. Fred couldn’t stop laughing as he picked up the open food and wiped off your face before kissing your forehead and pulling you close to him.

Month 7

“FRED!! It’s so hot!” you complained. You could feel the sweat sliding down every inch of your body and you felt disgusting. You felt huge and being pregnant was not fun anymore. You were big, couldn’t move easily, and your ankles had swollen to three times their normal size.

In the July heat, you just felt terrible.

“Let me get you another fan and some lemonade.” Fred offered.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so cranky with you,” you apologized to Fred when he came to sit back down next to you, handing you a glass of lemonade.

“You have every right to be cranky with me,” he smiled, kissing the side of your head as he had been doing so often now. “You’re carrying my babies. Speaking of which, we should come up with some names. It could be fun!”

You took a deep breath, trying to relax on the couch. “Yes, let’s do that!” Fred had already begun preparing the nursery and Molly and Fleur had sent over hordes of clothes. Planning was tiring you out, as fun and cute as it was, so maybe brainstorming names would be a blast.

“Now, George thinks we should name at least one of them after him. If we did that, we should name the girl Georgia because I think George would throw a fit if the girl was actually named after him. And then the boy could be Fred Jr.”

You looked dead eyed at Fred, not thinking his ‘joke’ was funny. “We are not making, no excuse me, forcing our twins to be mini-yous. Nope, not happening. Veto, next.”

“Okay, geez,” Fred chuckled as he took your hand in his own, knowing you would complain about being hot if he put his arm fully around you.

“Mhmmmm,” you thought out loud. “What about Andrew for the boy. You know, for my brother? I’d like to honor him after losing him 2 years ago in the war.”

“I think that would be nice,” Fred smiled softly at you. “Andrew it is. Andrew Weasley has a good ring to it. We can call him Drew for short too.”

“I think so too,” you agreed.

“Now, for a girl, this is a serious suggestion,” Fred prepared you. “Olivia. I’ve always liked that name.” he played with your fingers.

“Andrew and Olivia Weasley. I think it could work. That was much easier than I thought it was!” You laughed with joy.

“Fred, Y/N, Andrew, and Olivia. Our little family. You like your new names, kids?” Fred spoke to your stomach.

Month 8

“Nope, do not get out of bed!” Fred ordered after you tried to get out of bed. “Doctor’s orders. Plus, Mum is already here.”

Molly Weasley had been coming to your flat nearly every other day to help you and Fred around the house. Dr. Woodson placed you on bed rest the previous week and it was complete AGONY.

“But, Freddie, there is so much we still have to do. I can help.”

“Nope, George and I have it covered. Plus you know the rest of the family will help with whatever we need. You just sit here and rest. Liv and Drew are still growing in there.”

“Yes they are,” you giggled, rubbing your stomach. “I swear they were wrestling in there last night! They were being so active! Kicking and moving around. If these two fight during their entire childhoods, we will be in for some rough years!”

“I bet they will be best friends,” Fred smiled. “Look at Georgie and I! And, if they have any younger siblings in the future, they can team up against them.”

“I should hope not!” you scoffed. Your banter settled as Molly hurried into the room with a breakfast tray.

“Mum will take good care of you today and Ginny mentioned stopping by later, okay?” Fred told you as he kissed you goodbye. “I won’t be too late tonight. Everyone on Diagon Alley seems to know that you’re expecting, so even though business is booming, the shop is ready to be closed at closing!

“Sounds good, dear.” You replied, pushing the eggs to the side. You forgot to tell Molly that you weren’t eating those now because of the babies.

“I’ll take those for you,” Fred chuckled, eating your eggs, sipping some water, and kissing you one more time before leaving. “Have a good day!”

“Bye, hun,” you giggled again as she left. At least you had the company of all the Weasley guests throughout the days when he was gone.

Month 9

“They’re due any day, Freddie!” You squealed. You had attempted to jump a little, but that just made you have to pee, so you stopped that immediately. “When they get here, we can hold them all the time and I’ll be able to move freely!”

You had secretly begun doing the things that you hoped would speed along the delivery date. You were eating spicy foods, walking around when no one was watching you and forcing you back to bed, drinking raspberry tea, everything! Well, not everything. You had try to convince Fred to have sex with you the night before, but he refused. Said it was weird with two babies in there, even though you looked beautiful and he would love to.

You had just rolled your eyes at him in response, but you did try!

“You going to come out soon, little ones?” You asked your stomach. “At least one perk of being so large is that I can sit the box of chocolate covered strawberries on my stomach.” You hummed happily, eating another one of the treats that had been your favorites during your pregnancy.

You had eaten them so many times that Molly just started making them regularly for you so that Fred didn’t have to go buy them at all hours of the day randomly.

“Can I come to Diagon Alley with you today?” you asked hopefully. “I need to get out of this house. Everything is ready and I’ve been cooped up for too long.”

Fred stood there thinking, but you pleaded some more, getting him to finally give in. “Only if you promise to not walk around too much.”

“I promise! I’ll sit at Florean’s the whole time!” You drew and X over your heart to seal the promise.

You breathed in the air deeply as you took in the atmosphere of the Alley. The newer owners of the ice cream shop brought you more ice cream each time that you asked for some and whenever you tried to pay, they refused. Yet another perk of being pregnant.

Numerous people had walked by and chatted with you while Fred was at the shop and he came by every so often to check on you. It was a pleasant day. That was until an excruciating pain occurred in your stomach.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh,” you whined, hands immediately holding your stomach. “Excuse me,” you pulled one of the waiters aside. “Would you run down to the joke shop and get my husband, please?”

The trip to St. Mungo’s was a blur. Fred was holding your hand the entire way, helping you into your hospital gown, and just being an overall sweetheart as per usual. Molly Weasley and your mum filtered in and out of the room. It wasn’t until Dr. Woodson announced that just those going into the delivery room could stay that the chaos slowed. Even if it was just you and Fred in the room, you knew that every single Weasley and Y/L/N was in the waiting room and would be until your two children entered the world.

Four hours later, you had finished pushing, you had finished working your body to exhaustion. Four hours later, you held two little babies in your arms and they were beautiful. Fred’s smile was so wide and he was so proud as he took Andrew from you and then Olivia.

“You did beautifully, darling,” he whispered, looking at the two children in his arms. The tears were still streaming down your face, stupid post-birth hormones. “Are you ready for the family? They’ll come back in small groups.” You nodded laying your head back on the pillows. It was September 8th. The day your little family had its first addition of many.

You could see the little heads of Olivia and Drew peaking over the blankets as different family members held them. Their hair was strawberry red, just like your favorite snack.

[taizi]

Hi! I love your works! 71 + 72 for Luffy and Jinbei?

PROMPTS LIST

71. “I’m going to protect you.”

smile again

x

As a watchdog journalist, Jinbei's work takes him everywhere. He isn't always in the best position to receive phone calls. Sometimes, depending on what story his group decides to chase after and what far-flung corner of the world it leads them to, Jinbei goes weeks without internet access.

By the time he gets news of the accident, Luffy has been out of the hospital for a month and Ace has been dead just as long.

Jinbei has to go home.

His colleagues-- a group of solid, hard-working people he's known for going on twenty years, has worked with on the field and off, in smoke and fire and claustrophobic office spaces-- are entirely understanding.

Tiger drives him to a small airport, the truck bouncing along a bumpy gravel road. There's a single, hastily-packed duffel in the bed of the pickup. Jinbei isn't even sure what he shoved in there, having only made one mindless pass through his room. He would have left without his passport if Hatchan hadn't shoved it into his hands on his way out the door.

"It may be time for me to retire," Jinbei says aloud. His mind is ebbing and rising like a tide, a vast ocean of grief. Thoughts go bobbing away like loose buoys before he can get a grasp on them.

All he can think of is the last video-call he made home, over a month ago now. Ace and Luffy, pressed cheek-to-cheek so they'd both fit in-frame, competitive in all things and unwilling to take turns, even as Jinbei laughingly promised he had plenty of time to talk.

They made him promise to call again soon. He meant to.

"Don't worry about us over here," Tiger says. His eyes are on the road, hands tight around the steering wheel. He carries Jinbei's grief like it's his own. "Just worry about your boy."

His boy, Jinbei thinks. Not by blood or by law, certainly, but by something less quantifiable than that. Those scrappy kids that spilled into his yard one muggy summer evening, hiding in the hedges from their well-antagonized CPS caseworker and somehow claiming a piece of Jinbei's heart from the moment he first laid eyes on them.

Ace was so angry back then, and Luffy was so easily frightened, and they clung to each other in a practiced way, as if they were so used to the world trying to claw them apart that they didn't expect anything else, even from a perfect stranger. They didn't seem to know what to do with kindness. Ace watched Jinbei like a hawk for weeks, long after Luffy warmed up to him. His trust, when he finally gave it, felt like a prize.

Jinbei was working long, unpredictable hours, and knew it wouldn't be fair to drag two children into his household if he couldn't afford them the time and care they deserved-- but after school? Weekends? Holidays? Those he gave up freely.

His days gained some semblance of routine again, for the fist time since he finished college. His kitchenware came down from the cupboard, the pockmarked kitchen table was often set for three. He made dinner at home, more than he ate in the office with his colleagues.

Hell, his colleagues ate dinner with him at home more often, too. Within an hour of meeting the boys, each of Jinbei's friends, to a man, would have taken a bullet for either of them, no questions asked.

The sense of structure did wonders for the brothers. With a safe place to return to when they needed it, and someone to fall back on, Ace stopped looking at every potential foster home as if it was a threat. Luffy came out of his shell, bolder with each new day. He made a friend in the village, a boy with vivid green eyes, and they hardly spent a moment apart.

They were finally placed with a couple who lived nearby. Shanks was wry and good-natured, and Benn had the patience of a saint. After a few weeks, when Jinbei asked how they were settling in, his worries were soothed: Luffy clearly adored them, and even Ace grudgingly admitted they weren't so bad.

And when the time came, and Ace applied for emancipation as well as custody of his brother, he had a small army in his corner. A patchwork family collected in little bits and pieces, ready to support him through anything.

"I will always be here for you both," Jinbei had promised him, countless times. "You'll never be alone as long as I'm alive."

"Thank you," Ace said, a little bashful. But he was so pleased, and so full of hope for the future, and he said, "I'll feel better, knowing someone's around to look after Luffy if I can't."

He immediately got shouted down by his entire strange extended pseudo-family for daring to suggest they'd ever let anything happen to him, and it made him laugh so brightly, and now the memory sticks like needles in Jinbei's throat.

Tiger hugs him hard before Jinbei boards the plane. In the back of his mind, where there is a tiny corner free from drowning, Jinbei can't help but wonder when he'll see his friend again.

He keeps thinking of that last video call. He can't remember everything they talked about. He doesn't think he said enough. He almost certainly didn't tell Ace everything he deserved to hear. Foolishly, he assumed there would be another time.

He's learned from this. He won't take it for granted any more.

"Call me when you land," Tiger says. "Give the monkey our love."

"I will," Jinbei replies. His heart is so heavy he doesn't know how he manages the steps onto the plane. He doesn't know how the pilot manages to lift them up from the tarmac. It's a wonder they aren't sinking, straight through the earth.

Nami and Usopp are waiting for him at the airport, wide-awake even though it's well past two o'clock in the morning. They're familiar to Jinbei from the stories Luffy has told him, from the numerous video calls they've bullied their way into over the years, and the handful of birthdays and holidays Jinbei was able to make it home for.

"Luffy wanted to come with us to pick you up, but he fell asleep," Usopp says, apropos of nothing, as they're waiting for their Uber. "Sanji said it was a small miracle, and Zoro looked like he was going to hunt us for sport if we even thought about waking him up, so--"

"He hasn't been sleeping, then?" Jinbei asks quietly.

"After he came home, he was on some pretty heavy meds, and he slept a lot," Nami says. Her arms are folded tight against her chest in the nighttime chill, her eyes trained somewhere far away. "But he had bad dreams and he would wake up disoriented. Now he fights sleep tooth and nail."

"We've all sort of become the insomnia squad," Usopp pipes up. "Thank god I'm not taking any classes this summer."

"Sanji's gotten really good at making lattes," Nami adds with a small smile. "Wait till you see his shiny new espresso machine."

"I'm like eight-five percent sure he stole it from the Baratie."

Jinbei listens to their chatter, feeling at once anchored by them and adrift at sea. It makes sense that they would be ahead of him. They've been here all this time, practically from the moment of the accident, facing it with all the bravery and endurance of sailors in a typhoon. Jinbei, meanwhile, had been living in an unchanged world.

For the last month, Ace has been dead. How many times had Jinbei thought about him? Mentioned him to a friend? How many times had Jinbei wrongly said his name in the present-tense?

The house is warmly-lit when they arrive, but quiet. An old blue Irish wolfhound greets them at the door, wagging his tail. Robin looks up from the papers she has spread out on the coffee table and smiles. Chopper is fast asleep beside her, his head on her shoulder. Behind them, Jinbei can see Sanji at work in the kitchen, shaping dough. Something is baking that smells of cinnamon and apples.

They weren't kidding about their sleep schedules being a mess.

"Hello, Jinbei. It's good to see you," Robin says. Her voice is soft, in deference to the sleeping teenager. "Luffy is asleep, but you can see him if you like."

"Please," Jinbei replies hoarsely.

"I'll take him," Nami says. "Usopp, would you bring his bag to the guest bedroom?"

"'Course," Usopp replies, but he makes a detour into the kitchen first.

Nami takes Jinbei's hand and leads him toward the stairs. "I feel really stupid about this, but I was so angry at you," she admits as they make their way up. "It's hardly the first time we haven't been able to contact you, and I know why that is. But-- I don't know, I think I was going crazy. I wanted Luffy to have everything he wanted. I wanted everyone who loved him to be here every time he woke up. So I-- so there might be some angry emails waiting for you, but please don't hate me for it."

"I won't even read them," Jinbei promises gravely, his heart cleaved clean in two. "I can't imagine how-- how hard it must have been. I-- if I had gotten the messages sooner-- "

"I know," Nami assures him, pausing outside a closed bedroom door. "Franky spoke to you like six hours ago, and you're already here. You dropped everything to be here. We know the kind of person you are."

She stands up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, and Jinbei bends to accommodate her, the same way he does for Koala. Then Nami reaches out and pushes open the door.

Zoro is awake, sitting against the headboard with his phone in hand and earphones in, and his eyes are as bright and sharp now as they were when he was a child. He looks up when the door opens, and seems to relax when he sees Jinbei stepping in behind Nami.

"Go to sleep," Nami whispers, pointing at the second bed across the spacious room.

"Don't tell me what to do," Zoro replies, just as quiet, but he pulls his earphones out and extracts himself from the bed with all the exacting precision of a bomb disposal technician. Nami takes him by the arm, helping him get up so carefully that the mattress hardly moves. It's such a well-practiced maneuver that Jinbei thinks he honestly might cry.

"If one of you would stay for a bit, I'll grab a shower," Zoro says.

"Sure, stinky," Nami says, nudging him toward the door. "Jinbei?"

He nods, unsure of what he's agreeing to. Now that he's finally next to Luffy, nothing else seems to exist. He sinks into the chair beside the bed, only half-aware of Nami and Zoro leaving. Their murmured conversation is cut off by the closing door. The room is silent, save for the gentle, unobtrusive sound of Luffy's steady breathing.

He's lost weight since Jinbei saw him last. There are shadows on his face that don't belong there. He looks both older and younger than he has any right to, even now, when his face is untroubled and slack with sleep.

"Hello, little monkey," Jinbei says. His voice is quiet, but it still breaks. He's crying, he realizes, thick tears rolling down his face with abandon. "I'm sorry it took me so long."

He thinks of two little boys, spilling into his life on accident, taking up room in his home and his heart as if they always belonged there. They weren't his, not really, but he loved them anyway. Loves them still.

"I'm here now," he whispers. His hands are shaking. "I'm going to protect you, like I promised. I'm here, Ace. Please believe me, wherever you are. I won't fail you again."

[3wisellamas]

More Boxbot / Voxman Family Headcanons, Jumbo Bonus Edition!

Because I'm still here, dangit!

-Shannon's holographic "phone" is an actual thing that people in the OK KO universe have, but usually it comes built into a watch rather than their wrist. It's a super-expensive model, that she likes to show off to her siblings who are still stuck with regular smartphones.

-Since Ernesto is hollow, he likes to hide things from his siblings inside himself, and forgets about them. It's not an uncommon occurrence for him to split apart during a plaza fight only for confiscated magazines to spill out, or for the Bodegamen to explode him and have snacks fall out like a robot piñata.

-It's also the best hiding place for his diary. Which the Bodegamen always return to him at Boxmore, after reading it cover to cover (and even writing feedback in the margins) of course.

-ALL of the robots have issues sometimes with thinking out loud, and even blurting out embarrassing things or straight-up Boxmore corporate secrets -- the bigger the hivemind, the more likely this is to happen, with Darrell and Ernesto being the worst offenders. With hundreds of mouths to keep shut, sometimes they just miss one.

-Things the Boxbots are forbidden from eating/drinking, since they can melt, get stuck in their inner workings, or otherwise cause serious malfunctions: Marshmallows, chocolate, peanut butter, all varieties of cheese, WD-40, lit matches, dish soap, gummy worms, live worms (Raymond found this one out the hard way on a dare), live birds (ditto for Mikayla), glue, wet cement, broken glass, water.

-Things the Boxbots will eat/drink anyway, and just reboot themselves right after: All of the above.

-The main exception to this is the peanut butter -- Professor Venomous is allergic to peanuts, just like his son, and Boxman threw out everything in the factory containing them the day he moved in. The bots all miss their peanut butter and (petroleum) jelly sandwiches, but not enough to potentially hurt their stepdaddy!

-(They do still keep one last jar of the stuff hidden in their playroom, however, just in case. And so does Boxman, in his office.)

-Also, Mikayla doesn't care what it does to her, she LOVES chocolate -- it's her catnip.

-Mr Logic likes hip hop, and will actually get up on stage and freestyle sometimes when he and Gar go to open mic nights together. He's surprisingly good at it!

-Since he's just as embarrassed about his human feet as Shannon, if not more so, Darrell's got an extensive collection of cute patterned socks to cover them up, and wears a different pair underneath his boots every day that NO ONE is allowed to see but him. His favorite pair have tiny horses on them.

-The robots all wake up at 6AM, on the dot. They have to, in fact, since it's programmed into them -- they're physically incapable of sleeping in, though they can take short naps in the afternoon. They're also programmed to start feeling sleepy at 10PM, though their bedtime is a couple of hours earlier, and they are able to stay up if needed (for instance, if Boxman decides to do a late-night plaza attack...)

-And that line about having to "recharge every night" was accurate -- glorbs naturally replenish their spent energy when not in use, so the robots need to get a full nights' sleep every night or their glorbs could eventually burn out on them!

-Boxman also gets up at 6, or around there, because he MUST crow at the sunrise, every morning. Raymond sometimes joins him.

-Darrell gets migraines, a side effect of having to convert and process all of his electronic thoughts on an organic brain. There's an entire protocol to swap him out for Shannons and Raymonds on the factory floor so he can shut down his hivemind and rest -- however, it can be tough to get him to admit he's in pain and to stop trying to work through it. (He hates the idea of his family having to go through so much trouble for him...)

-When PV found out, as a fellow migraine sufferer, he and Darrell actually bonded over it, and he got a little less resistant to taking "sick days" with his stepdaddy's encouragement.

-After he was upgraded to a robo-adult, Ernesto started refusing to celebrate his birthday, so that the other three quadruplets could have it all to themselves. However, they'll always throw him a small surprise party of his own a week later.

-For their dad's birthday one year, the bots got him a pet goldfish, since he used to be so into aquatic creatures. Boxman ADORED that fish, even if he claimed otherwise, and gave it the prettiest tank decor and fanciest fishy flakes he could. However, sadly, it didn't last long, with the robots doing the cleaning and water changes for him -- fish and rust don't mix. ;-;

-Though it's INCREDIBLY humiliating for them, you can in fact plug all six of the bots into a wall outlet if there aren't any glorbs available for them to run off of. Except for Mikayla, their AC adaptors are sold separately.

-Fink keeps trying to flush cherry bombs down the Boxmore toilets, Bart Simpson-style. It helps that she can just escape down them into the pipes if she gets caught (though, she's also blown herself up this way once or twice...)

-Leggy Jethro did eventually trust all his siblings enough to let them know he was still around, and they helped hide him from Boxman, reattached his limbs, invited him to their dance parties (the one in The KO Trap was him), and even got him out of there when things started getting bad with Shadowy -- though, since all they did was shove him into a waste pipe during one of their stepdaddy's and stepbrother's rampages, they never were sure if he made it or not until he showed up with Boxman at the Plaza Tournament.

-Post-reset, he's allowed to openly be himself as a member of the family! No labor uprisings or union talk at the dinner table, though.

-This was originally posted by someone else, but I love it so I'm stealing it: "Deathro" from Thank You For Watching the Show is actually just Jethro's edgy robo-teen phase. It lasted only a week before everyone else got sick of it, just like Ernesto's.

-The Boxman family is Corn-tholic (Corn Catholic), though Boxman himself doesn't really practice it too seriously. In fact, he didn't practice at all until the kids came along, and he started going to Corn Church again for them.

-He dragged PV along with the rest of the family one week, but the whole "corn-fessing your sins" aspect didn't go too well for our favorite professor, who already has problems facing and dealing with his checkered past...

-The robots are EXTREMELY multilingual, since they can just switch their language settings. However, Shannon and Raymond did try to legitimately learn French together once, though they eventually gave up. The only thing they can really say is "omelette du fromage."

-Sadly, this does not include sign language for the four original bots, though Raymond and Mikayla were updated to include it, and they'll sign to each other to in order to speak privately or hide things from / trash-talk their older siblings.

-Lord Boxman has no idea where Darrell got the Daddy belt, and it haunts him, as does whether his innocent baby boy knows the full meaning behind it. Darrell actually pulled it out of Boxman's old college stuff -- there may or may not have been a LOT of alcohol consumed the night he procured that belt, and he'd long since forgotten it.

-And Darrell does know exactly what it means. The fact that everyone, especially his dad, expects Darrell to act an innocent baby boy forever due to his personality, and expresses shock whenever he displays knowledge or behavior more appropriate to the teenager/young adult he is, really annoys him sometimes. Not that he'll voice his complaints, especially not to his father, but he does rebel in small ways, like his graffiti habit, and brute-forcing his way past the parental block on the TV to watch the PG-13 movie channels. (He absolutely can say fuck, and in fact has done so in private, he just chooses not to.)

-After he and Boxman reconnected, Mr Logic did eventually start visiting his family at Boxmore again, though only on rare/special occasions. And after a LOT of time and consideration, he agreed to let Boxman perform a few upgrades, and bring his construction more in line with the newer robots.

-Logic refuses to have a hivemind set up, though, or any copies of himself made, not even just as a safety precaution in case he's ever damaged or destroyed.

-Boxman made a copy of Logic anyway, and a backup of his memory during one upgrade, and just never told him about it. It's set to activate if something ever does happen to the original Mr Logic, even long after Boxman retires.

-Shannon LOVES roller blading, but is banned from every skating rink in the Neutral Zone, since she keeps trying to use her saws instead of actual skates.

-There's a villain-oriented equivalent to Sidekick Scouts, for minions-in-training, that PV took Fink to a few times, before she decided her own style of minion-ing was superior.

-She first learned how to blackmail people from their annual cookie drives, and even got a badge for it!

-In addition to robots, Boxman is a HUGE car guy, and can give you engine specs on any make/model from memory, as well as ways to tweak them for maximum horsepower. He originally went to Evil Engineering College for automotive stuff, but switched to robotics instead.

-He's actually trying to pass on his mechanic skills to Darrell, who he trusts to do all his own car's upkeep as well as that of the Boxmore trucks, and Raymond, who...can barely change a tire. (He tries, he really does, but it's just not going well in his case)

-Raymond actually does have his motorcycle from that one mobile game, and enjoys riding around the Danger Zone! However, since he stinks at maintaining it, it's almost always breaking down, and he keeps having to go to either his dad or Darrell to fix it.

-He passes it down to Robbie later on, who thankfully DID get the Mechanic Skills. ;v;

-Ernesto once tried to teach PV how to make a spreadsheet in Excel. He somehow managed to crash the entire factory computer system, including poor Ernesto's hivemind server, while trying to add two cells together.

[lokis-army-77]

If You Please

Chapter nine

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2200

This is technically a reader insert but without the (y/n) and all that. She also has no name mentioned so feel free to imagine as you please.

Follow the reader through the events of the Captain America movies and experience her love for Bucky Barnes.

Warnings: angst, mention of death

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Masterlist

It was nearing the end of December when we were given our first HYDRA takedown mission. The Howling Commandos, which was what we were calling the group of men that Steve and I helped put together, were eager to get back to the fighting. In the past month, we had all grown fond of each other, which was needed if we were to work as a team in the heat of battle.

Howard had given Steve and me our new uniforms a few days beforehand, although the dark royal blue, I still felt more comfortable in my old army uniform. I wore the suit only to ease the peace of mind of both Steve and Bucky, who were both afraid of me possibly getting hurt on these missions. Unlike Steve's uniform, mine had no stars and stripes, just some places where the seams had been piped in a light stone gray color. Howard also made sure to make a belt that would hold both my twin pistols and the bo staff when it was separated into two separate pieces.

It had taken a little over a year for our group to take out all of the Hydra bases Steve had pointed out on the map. The way we had worked, flowed like a well oil machine. All eight of us had our specific roles and we played them well. Bucky was our sniper, he hid out in the trees or on top of opposing buildings, watching for danger and alerting us when he did. Once he had you in his iron sites, he never missed. Gabe was our machine gunman, he came in for the heavy artillery when we needed to smoke the enemy out. Jacques or Jac, as we all liked to call him, could only speak french to Gabe and me, he was great at hand-to-hand combat but tended to be a little more reckless than everyone else, which was why he liked to do the more risky tasks. Jim was our tech guy, he had taken a few of the enhanced HYDRA weapons and put them to good use on the battlefield, he also ran our radio transmissions and dealt with helping me get feedback on HYDRA’s movements. Falsworth was one of the best explosives makers I’d seen in the field. He could create a bomb out of almost anything you handed to him. Dum Dum was our ace card, he was strong, handled guns like he was born to, and fought expertly. Steve was our leader, but I stepped in as second in command as needed. Lastly, I was our go-to on the stealth side of things. I snuck up on the unsuspecting, took them out, and gathered all the intel that could be useful to us. Getting in and getting out was my job, but I wasn’t afraid to get my hands dirty once in a while.

Now it was February of 1945 and we were standing on a freezing cliff waiting for a train carrying unknown materials to HYDRA. Steve, Bucky, and I stood at the edge of the cliff while Dum Dum and Jac winched in the zipline cable taught. Gabe and Jim were listening in on the transmissions from Dr. Zola on the train to a HYDRA commander, and Falsworth was looking out into the canyon with his binoculars.

“Do you two remember when we all rode the cyclone at Coney Island?” Bucky asked.

I shook my head in a laugh before rubbing my gloved hands together and brought them to my mouth to try and warm them up. “How could I forget, Steve threw up all over the new white oxfords that took me forever to save up and buy.”

“Hey, I said I was sorry!” Steve exclaimed.

"Well, I hope this isn’t payback for forcing you on it.” Bucky looked out into the distance, shaking nervously. I grabbed his hand and brought it to my lips and kissed it. He looked over at me and smiled.

“They’re headed this way and fast. Zola just got confirmation to open up the throttle.” Gabe called out.

“I can see them, they’ll be within distance in a few minutes with how fast they’re going,” Falsworth stated as he moved his eyes away from the binoculars.

“Well, I guess it’s now or never boys. Do you all remember the plan?” I looked to Steve, Bucky, and Gabe who would be the only ones with me on the train, they all nodded. I moved closer to Bucky and leaned up to kiss him, “I’ll see you when this is all over.”

“Be careful Doll,” he whispered into my ear.

“You know I will.” I turned from him then and grabbed onto the zipline handle. I would be the first to go down because it was my job to try and get the train stopped as fast as possible.

As the train came closer I jumped and skidded down the long metal line. I watched as the train moved quickly under my dangling body. Letting go of the handles, I drop, not so gracefully onto the engine car. There was no way in from the top like there were on most trains, it was completely smooth. Carefully walking toward the front of the engine, I noticed the gunner flaps open on the sides. They looked big enough for me to slip through. So without a second thought, I went straight for the left one.

Slipping down into the car I thought it was weird that no one was in sight. I grabbed both separated sides of my staff out of their holders and brought them up. The conductor's room was cut off from the rest of the car by a large metal door with a small glass window. I walked up to the door and listened carefully. I could hear most of what was going on thanks to the enhanced hearing the serum gave me.

“Stop them! Fire again!” Someone yelled. I quickly glanced through the window and saw only two people, one guard, and Zola. “Shoot him again! Kill him now!” He yelled again. Without waiting another second, I backed up and kicked in the door. It swung open and I strutted in. Both the guard and Zola turned around in shock.

“Now, you’re going to either step away from the control panel willingly or I can force you to do it, either way, works for me,” I said as I walked over towards the armed guard who was pointing his gun at me. “And you can drop your gun.” The guard looked to Zola and then back at me before lowering his gun to the ground. I picked it up and threw the sling over my shoulder. I grabbed the pair of handcuffs the guard had on him and bound his wrists, pushing him assertively to the floor. I then walked over to Zola and bound his wrists with the cuffs that I was carrying. I sat him down next to the guard.

At that moment Gabe came crashing in through a window above me, out of nowhere. “You know, you sure did take long enough. I've already got this handled.” I said as I went over to Zola and cuffed him with my own handcuffs.

“Hey, it takes a minute to walk down the length of a fastly moving train. Steve and Bucky are fine, so everything seems to be going smoothly. The Colonel and the rest of the special forces group are waiting for us on the other side of the tunnel.” he said as he took Zola's place at the control panel.

Soon the train started to come to a stop, we unloaded Zola and the guard, placing them in the custody of the military officers who had met us on the other side of the tunnel. I waited patiently in the falling snow for Bucky and Steve to make their way out of the train. I walked around to keep myself from freezing as I waited. As I walked to the other side of the train I noticed that a giant hole had been blown out of the side. I turned away when I heard someone call out my name.

Steve stood at the front of the train with a solemn look on his face. I ran over to him and gave him a hug. “What's the matter, Stevie?” I asked, concerned. He just shook his head and looked blankly at his hands. “Where’d Bucky go?” He didn’t answer me, just kept looking at his hands. I snapped my fingers in front of his face to try and get his attention. “Hello, earth to Steven. Where is Bucky?”

“I tried. I really did, you have to believe me.” He choked out. I moved away from him slightly, giving him a questioning look.

“Steve, what do you mean? You aren't making any sense.”

“He was right there, I almost had him, but.” He stopped mid-sentence.

“What happened to Bucky, Steve?” I raised my voice. He pushed me away from him but said nothing. “What happened to him!” I yelled out. Something bad had happened to my fiancé and was going to find out what. I stepped back closer to Steve and pushed his chest hard. “Tell me!”

“He got knocked out of the train. He held onto the siding and I went to pull him up but he was too far out of reach. He slipped before I could get closer to his hand.”

“No. No, you’re lying to me.” I could feel my eyes burning as I tried to keep the tears from falling. “This isn’t funny Steve, where is he?” My voice shook uncontrollably.

“I’m sorry, I really tried, but he’s gone.” Steve choked out the words. I hit him hard in the chest as I started to cry. I hit him over and over again.

“Don’t just stand there, bring him back,” I sobbed out. The tears were streaming down my face now, almost freezing instantly in the cold wind. I went to hit him again but he just wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into him tightly. “Bring him back please,” I begged, crumpling to the ground. Steve followed suit, in order to not let go of me. “I didn’t even say I love you to him before we started the mission.” I gasped out. It was getting harder to breathe as I kept sobbing into Steve. He sat there quietly petting my hair as I kept murmuring to myself.

The only man I had ever loved was just ripped away from me. I had so much of our lives planned out, from our wedding to when we died of old age together. Now all of that had been taken and I felt empty inside, I was just a hollow shell. My ears were ringing and everything around me sounded muffled like I was underwater. The world started to dull and I just closed my eyes.

I woke up in a hard bed with a bright light shining into my face. I blinked my eyes several times before I could even open them properly. I looked to my left and there sat Steve in a small wooden chair.

“Glad to see you’re awake, how are you feeling, all things considered?” He leaned in close.

“I feel like I just woke up from the most terrible nightmare, only the nightmare is real. How are you dealing with it? He was your best friend.” I laid there, numbly playing with the fraying edges of the blanket.

“Did you know we can’t get drunk? I tried when we first got back to London. You’ve been out cold for three days.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “If you’re feeling up to it, we’re having a meeting about finding Schmidt in thirty minutes.” He stood up, grabbed my hand, and squeezed it before letting go and walking out of the room.

I felt the tears coming again as I sat myself up. To my right was a small table with a glass of water. I took the glass and gulped the contents down. Being awake without Bucky here was worse than dying. I contemplated for a good while if I was going to join the meeting, My only motivation to get up and dressed was the thought of killing Johann Schmidt.

I made my way through the halfways of the base quickly. The meeting had started ten minutes ago. The doors were closed when I got there, so I threw them open. They slammed into the wall, which startled the whole room. I could feel the pity in their eyes as they all turned to look at me. I just held my head up high and walked to the open seat next to Steve.

“What did I miss?” I questioned.

“Schmidt is hiding out in a base in the Alps. We have just under twenty-four hours to find him. We're gonna hit them head-on.” Steve relayed to me.

“Okay then. I’m coming with you.”

“Are you sure about this?” Peggy asked with concern all over her face.

“Most definitely. I want to be the one to kill Schmidt.” I was set in my way and no one was going to stop me.

Tag list: @ginger-swag-rapunzel @underc0vercryptid-reads @geek-and-proud @intothesoul @leyannrae

[disasterfandoms]

After Action Argument, Part One|| A Trent Sawyer and Full-Metal Oneshot

Co-wrote with @bravo-four-seal-team

A/N: So this was formed while headcanoning about Full-Metal and Trent’s friendship and their crazy asses with @bravo-four-seal-team​ and it eventually became writing a fic on how we thought this would go. This is long, so I divided it up into 2 parts.

Summary: Missing scenes from 2x21 and 2x22 encasing Metal’s concern for his brother’s mental health and sanity. Aka Metal and Trent argue for eternity with some fluff at the end.

This is the first piece of work in a series I’m working on on AO3 called “The Medic and The Rambunctious Brothers.” There are two OC’s in this, but one is only explicitly in the story.

TW: Talks of death, talks of a land mine, war, deployment, blood, being in an explosion, talks of suicidal thoughts, talks of therapy, arguments

Taglist: @himbohondo, @a-kate3, @rebelwrites, @thegirlwhoisalwayswriting, @supervalcsi, @jayhalsteadfan-2417, @mrsmarvelous1995​, @chibsytelford​

Of course, of all missions, this was the mission he would step on a landmine. The mission where they were busting ass to save Ray, to get the guy who was responsible for the bombings that took out Clay. 

He stood still as soon as he felt something underneath his foot. Dammit. Jason walked a couple more steps ahead of him before realizing he was frozen. “What?” he asked, staring at Trent.

“Felt something under my right foot,” Trent paused, taking a deep breath, “I’m pretty sure it’s a landmine,” he finished, looking at Jason as his eyes grew wide. He imagined that everyone else was also feeling the dread flowing freely through their veins when he said it, but Brock and Metal was behind him. 

Of course Metal was on this mission with him. Amelia was going to kill him if he killed her brother because he stepped on a landmine. Of course, Amelia might kill him for stepping on a landmine anyways if she ever hears about it. He mentally makes a note to talk to Metal about not telling this story to her later.

“That’s no bueno, boys,” Sonny said, crouching down to see the mine below him and snapping Trent back to reality, “Landmines are the sharks of the dirt.”

Full Metal has carefully made his way to stand in front of Trent, boring his eyes into Trent’s, looking for any sign of where Trent’s head is at. He didn’t like the look he saw, though, it generally means Trent’s made a decision he was going to regret.

“Don’t have time for this, I’ll figure it out.You guys keep going.” Trent said, and Metal immediately glared at him. Like hell he was leaving his brother behind. 

Luckily, Jason read his mind. “Not gonna happen Trent,” he immediately shot down Trent’s idiocy, but god his friend was stubborn.

“Go, I’ll make it safe myself.” Trent tries again, adamant that they all needed to get out of there, to go get Ray and finish the mission. He wasn’t going to leave Ray stranded because he was the idiot who’s most likely going to get blown-up in India.

“Like hell you will, Trent. I’ve seen you open a beer bottle before. Now, letting you do surgery on a bomb, probably gonna turn us into wolf food,” Sonny stated, while both him and Jason squat down to the ground to figure out a plan.

“Don’t make me laugh Sonny, I’m literally on a mine,” Trent said quickly, with an edge in his voice. Metal glared at him, still not believing his friend would be so stupid to actually think they’d leave him behind, and angry at Sonny for making jokes about it.

“T we’re not going anywhere, don’t even think about trying it again,” Metal said with the most menancing voice he could muster, but worry seeped through with every word. Jason was working with Brock to figure out a way to save Trent, so Metal focused on Trent and whatever the hell is going on in his head.

“Metal, if I die in this fiel-”

“No. we’re not doing that,” Metal interrupted him, stopping him in his tracks,”You’re going to be fine, T. We’re gonna get you off the mine safely, go get Ray, and then go home and you can tell Mellie anything you want,” 

“You all should be going and getting Ray anyways, Metal. You have time to get him and still get the HVT.” Trent insisted, not understanding why they don’t see that Ray is going to be easier to save than him at this point. He’s made his peace, though Amelia would be pissed, with dying in this field. Metal shook his head and started to speak, but was interrupted:

“Guys we got an incoming!” Sonny yelled from his spot as security. Brock and Jason continued to work on saving Trent, while Metal got down and focused on the enemy at-hand.

“Boss I’m sticking out like a hooker in Church here,” Trent quickly stated, starting to panic about being the reason they’re gonna be spotted. Jason quietly counted down, then both him and Trent laid on the ground, keeping themselves hidden and not being blown up at the same time. 

Once the enemy had driven away, They all stood up carefully, Trent nodding a thank you to Jason and Brock. They then continued their mission to get their brother and bring him home.

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They eventually found Ray, and were rescued by Indian forces. Tension between Trent and Full-Metal was thick, and the guys had decided to go to a place to drink some beer and relax before going to bed. Full-Metal had pulled Trent to the side, to their barracks in the compound, a room one door over from where Bravo was.

Metal was pissed, but he was also worried for his friend. Once he got Trent alone, he began to tear into him about the decision he made out there. Trent stood across from him, with his arms wrapped across his own body.

 "What the fuck was that Trent?! Telling us to go? You'll make it safe?! Tell me exactly how the fuck you would make it safe" Metal loudly lashed out, his feelings his bottled up spilling over.

Trent sighed, “Metal will you shut up, it all worked out fine"

"Trent! It ain't fine! We coulda been burying you! I don't want to give a damn death notice to your family, to my sister! Because my death would be next!"

“You’re exaggerating."

Metal threw his hands up in the air, his volume growing increasingly louder with every reply, “Trent, take this seriously! Can you just stop for one minute to think about how your death would affect your damn team? Ray probably wouldn’t forgive himself because you were there for him, Jase would blame himself because he lead you into that minefield, and who the fuck are they gonna trust with their bullshit? The new medic?”

Trent chuckled a little bit, now sitting on his bunk and shook his head, “Metal I am alive with only scrapes, bruises and sore muscles. And so are the guys! We’re okay, Metal.” He attempted to reassure the Master Chief, but it only seemed to make him angrier.

"We are okay because of a slim chance of luck! Trent, luck runs out! It's scrapes, bruises and sore muscles now, but what about next time? I never want to hear that self sacrificing Bullshit again! Ok?" He tried, desperately to get his friend and one of the most talented medics he knew to understand where he was coming from.

"You’re taking this out of proportion, Metal.”

“I’m taking this out of proportion?!”

“Yes!”

“For the love of god Trent!”

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

Brock, Jason, and Sonny were sitting in the common room, listening to the argument in the next room, each of them incredibly confused as to why Full-Metal is yelling at their medic, especially given the circumstances.

“You know, I didn’t even realize just how close Full-Metal and Trent were,” Jason commented, trying to converse with their team as if they were spectators of a football game.

“Who is that yelling, and what happened to Full Metal?” Sonny jokes, and they all chuckled.

“Metal called him T at the minefield. Trent doesn’t let anyone call him by anything other than Trent,” Brock piped up, and they all looked at each other, trying to figure out what that meant.

“Well, I mean, Full-Metal did give us the keys to Trent’s house so we’re able to check in on him and go there if we needed, that should have been our first clue.” Sonny commented, trying to make what they were hearing make sense.

“But who’s Mellie, and why would Trent want to tell her anything?” Jason asked, still confused as to what the hell was going on.

“Maybe his daughter? I thought he’d tell us he had a kid before Full-Metal, though.” Brock supplied, suddenly wanting popcorn as if they were watching a soap opera unfold.

“I wish we could hear Trent’s arguments back to him, though. It’s like trying to piece a puzzle together without all the pieces,” Sonny tried to make the expression work. The two other men just laughed at him, and shook their heads.

At this rate, they’ll be surprised at just about anything they learn about Trent.

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“I get this is war Trent, but there’s a difference between casualty of war and being a damn martyr. You and I have both seen it. Hell, Adam acted like a damn martyr when he tackled a guy with an S-Vest!” Metal’s pacing at this point, getting frustrated at how stubborn his best friend was.

“Adam was doing what he thought he needed to to save us, Metal. And I was doing the same, if we had all been blown up no one would have gotten to Ray.” Trent pointed out, trying to stay calm. He knows his friend is just worried about him, he’s used to his rough ways of being a good friend by now.

"Adam did the one thing he told everyone not to do! Trent, we had enough people; Jason and Sonny could have continued while Brock and I got you out that situation. That's the only other option, all stay or split off. Get it through that thick skull of yours!”

"You’re taking this too far Metal," Trent warned, getting frustrated that his friend brought up Adam.

"I have seen enough friends die, T. I don’t need to lose another.” Metal said, desperately hoping his friend understood that he was scared for him.

“Scott, you didn’t lose me! I’m fine! In that moment it was my problem to fix, the team needed to focus on Ray because he was in a lot more trouble than I was.” He felt his voice getting louder, but at this point he didn’t care that he was yelling at his friend, who just so happen to be a Master Chief, and could technically reprimand him.

“Bullshit, Trent. We go home as one or we don’t go home at all. You know that, asking any one of us to leave you behind is self-sacrificial nonsense.”

"One life is better than two, you and I both know that"

"That's bullshit! When you have the option to save someone you do that! There's no other options!" Metal was just angry now, angry at Trent for acting like this, angry at Jason for whatever he’s teaching his team, and angry at himself for not realizing Trent really thought anyone would be okay with sacrificing himself.

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“Are they ever gonna be done fighting?” Jason asks, starting to get exhausted and incredibly sore from the op. He was cuddled up on the couch now, trying to drown out their teammates yelling at each other in the next room. He was interested earlier, but he didn’t know how long those two will argue.

“I’m gonna go see if they can shut up so we can get some shut-eye” Sonny announces, slowly trying to stand-up, making painful knows as his body protested.

“Good luck buddy, Metal’s scary when he’s angry,” Brock drowsily spoke, falling asleep with Cerberus on top of him.

Sonny goes into the next room and popped his head through the door opening, “You two done with this pissing contest you got goin’ on here? Some of us need our beauty sleep before Mandy inevitably finds a target package for us to go after the 24 hours before we leave the island from hell,”

Full-Metal turns to him and gives him the look that Sonny imagines is what Metal’s victims see when they have nightmares in the eighth circle of hell. Sonny quickly left, and briskly walked out of the line of fire.

“Get ready boys, we’re gonna sleep in here tonight,” he told them, and they groaned.

This is not how they imagined tonight going.

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“Metal, if we had all been blown up by the mine then all 6 of Bravo, and yes I’m counting you as bravo so deal with it, would have died in that field. Sending you all away at least gave us a fighting chance. And Ray has a family back home that can’t afford to lose him.” Trent reasoned for the millionth time. Neither of them were getting anywhere, and both of them just wanted to resolve this and go to sleep. Trent was lying in his bed at this point, while Metal was still pacing.

“Newsflash, Trent, you have a family and a girlfriend who would be crushed by you dying too.”

"My family would be fine! Ray has a wife and two kids at home!"

"Trent will you listen to yourself! Go out there and ask them all if they would leave you to die! I guarantee you that they will say the same as I have. They’re your brothers, they don’t want to be here without you.”

“Metal, it was the only decision that made sense! You mean to tell me that Blackburn wouldn’t have told us to ‘work the problem’?”

“That’s a suicide mission, you idiot, not working the problem!”

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Ray and Blackburn walk by the common room, hearing the arguing still occurring through the walls. He then sees three of his operators all asleep in chairs, and decide to order, Ray to wake them, while he dealt with those two idiots inside to call it quits for the night.

He entered, and made his arrival clear by a raising his voice and saying, “Hey! Both of you, quit arguing. It’s too late for this, you need sleep before Mandy finds the HVT so you’re prepared.”

They both nodded, and everyone piled in to sleep in their beds, and Cerberus in his cage.

They sleep, hoping this is all over, but oh how wrong they were.

[jeromesxreader16]

Such a Joker (53)

Part 52 Here!

~o0o~

I pack two sandwiches in my purse and proceed to cover my hair with the large silk scarf. "Where are you sneaking off to?" Babs asks walking past me and downing a drink. "Secret date? I figured you would get sick of the pale faced clown." I smile at my hands. I could never tire of my boy. I'm as crazy as him, maybe more, but he would never turn me away, and I could never leave him.

"I'm married." "Even better." I narrow my eyes at her. "Babs, I'm going to see my dad." She widens her eyes. "Now you're asking for a death wish." I walk out the door, my heels clicking every step. "If you say so."

I walk into the GCPD and can sense the chaos and tension thickly canned in the air. Not seconds later two individuals start brawling over bread. "Hey! Break it up!" My father pushes them back. "For all the new people here... everyone is welcome in Haven, but there are rules. And one of them is we leave the fighting outside. Government already thinks we don't deserve help. We have to show otherwise. Gangs want to tear themselves apart outside, that's their business. In here, in Haven... we help each other survive."  I hum with a slick smile as the two dispute the issue and the tension falls. Saved for another day.

I walk up to him nudging his arm. "Nice speech. I think it worked." He turns to me and gasps, but recovers quickly. "(Y/n). You're so big. No... Just-" "Pregnant, dad." He nods smiling. "So what happens when they find out the government abandoned them?" He sighs, shaking his head. I pat his back. "Come on paper man. You need some real food." I pull him into his office and remove the disguise. "Italian sub for you, and tuna for me." "You hate tuna." I smile sitting down. "They don't." I pat my swollen tummy. "So there are two of them?" I nod smiling.

"And you're happy? He treats you well?" I nod again smiling at him. "Of course he does. He's not a monster, dad." He grabs my hand over the desk and squeezes it. "I don't... like him. You know this. He destroyed the damn city for christ's sake, but he is the father of my grandchildren, and the husband of my only daughter, so I can promise you... I will never kill him." I kiss his hand and smile. "Who knew that'd be so comforting to hear."

~

I walk into the elevator with the smile ghosted over my lips. Crackling from the speaker erupts my mind causing me to shake and grab the wall in fright. "Aw, honey, I'm sorry." Ecco's voice pipes up from the speaker. I wave my hand in front of the camera with a smile. "No worries. All good here." I laugh placing a hand on my stomach. "Where is Jerimiah?" "Working down below. Would you like me to get him?" I smile up at the camera. "Let me go down."

"Uh... Miss, I think we should wait. He doesn't want you around the-" I press the button to the bottom floor faster than light. "Oops," I smirk up to Ecco as the elevator skips the main floor and descends below.

The two doors slide open revealing a steamed room with the funk of hard labor. I step on the uneven ground and see Jerimiah fanning himself as he watches his workers. I rest my hands on his shoulders and kiss his cheek. "You're working hard." He spins around with a glare. "And you're not supposed to be here." He grips my hips pulling me towards him.

"I missed you." I nuzzle into his chest. He hums as we rock back and forth. "I missed you, my love. Come on. No lady should be exposed to this heat." He places his hand on the small of my back leading me to the elevator.

Holding me the entire way up and then carrying me to our bed, never letting us go. "Are my darlings all suggled up?" He asks resting my head on his chest. The icy colored flesh proving wrong to the touch of fire on my fingers. "Yes, Jer." I mumble feeling my eyes draw to a close. "Never will I go a day without my family... even your father." He kisses my head before I can ask the question.

~

Jeremiah POV:

My workers work endlessly day and night to break the walls of the under the earth. Slowing down each day, getting on my nerves in the end. You're pushing my men way too hard. "We're not gonna break through for at least a couple more days. There is absolutely no way to make it on schedule." The leader of the pack of sweat cogs comes in.

My wife doesn't need to be kept in this filth any longer. How dare he disrespect my future.  "Well, not with that attitude, you're not." I slice the man's throat, as he falls to the ground, blood flowing on the dirt.

"Now... everyone... let's reach inside and dig... a little deeper, shall we? 'Cause that's the only way you're all making it out of this hole." I hum watching their fear thicken.

Two taps on my shoulder break my gaze from the project. "Oh, Echo. Are these all the recruits?" Skinny, no brains, slim Whitted. These are my soldiers?

"Well, I thought you would want quality over quantity. Not everybody can pass a .38 caliber test of faith." I smirk thinking of the trials and tests they've suffered.  "Yes... you certainly have set a very high bar for devotion."

"Oh. Almost forgot. Bruce Wayne and his sidekick Curls... Or is he the sidekick? Anyway, they tried to infiltrate our little operation here."

"Oh?" " Oh. And Curls can walk, really well, especially... for a paraplegic. Ah. And she wants to kill you." I glare at her with a snarl. This doesn't help that my wife is being cared for in the same building.

"A lot, FYI. If I see her, I'll give you a shout. Oh... and kill her." I nod rolling my eyes. Finish the job and move on for the better of my wife and children.

~

I walk into the GCPD questioning room with my scarf wrapped around my head, and my belly protruding out. Quite the look I must say. I open the door to see Victor Zsasz pushed on to the table by Harvey.

"Ow. This is a really nice table." I snicker and take my glasses off. "You do realize her thrives on the pain." The three pairs of eyes look at me.  "We got a dozen witnesses that saw you walk out of that building before it went kabooey."

"Yeah. I heard some gangs had taken over." Zsasz says turning his eyes to me.  "Figured, with you guys occupied, I might help myself to some of your supplies. Hey, do you guys have any canned peaches? Man, I'd trade an arm and a leg for that right now. Not mine, somebody else's. Maybe little baby Maniax's." He laughs reaching for my stomach before Jim swats his arm down.

"If you're innocent, why shoot up a city block full of cops?"

"Because it was full of cops." Zsasz and I say at the same time.

"Who were also trying to shoot me. And, guys, those were warning shots. I mean, if I really

wanted to kill you... you'd be dead. You got a pen? I want to write this guy a thank-you letter. Do the math. If I blew up a building full of people, I would have covered

every inch of my body in sweet, sweet scars. Mrs. Valeska...  want to do a strip search?" He winks before my father punches him. "She's married, pig."

I lock arms with my dad and walk through the station. "Got Lucius on the horn for you, Cap."

"Lucius, talk to me." I grab the phone holding it close enough for the both of us to hear. "Haven wasn't destroyed by a bomb. It was an RPG, like the one that took down the chopper."

"You sure?"

I'm holding what's left of it in my hand right now. We found pieces of it in the rubble. It was fired through the basement window, detonated the fuel oil tank. And we're still trying to figure out exactly which rooftop it was fired from.

"Rooftop?"

"Yes."

"Dad, the only angle you could hit this place from is above. Zsasz was on the ground. Looks like you need a new suspect. I think we need to-"

"Jim! Ah. I know the wheels of justice turn slowly, so I'm here to provide- a modicum of grease."

Rushing up towards the front, Oswald, the Mayor of fallen Gotham, stands tall and proud.

"You need to leave right now."

"Still claiming he's innocent, is he?"

"Yes. And as much as I hate to admit it, the evidence is backing him up."

Harvey busts out, "What the hell's going on?" "Harvey, according to Lucius, Zsasz couldn't have done it."

Oswald huffs with a smile. "I did not expect you to go soft, Jim. Actually, I did. Behind a grandpa and all must've changed your ways. Which is why I didn't come alone." Several gunmen come out armed and ready to fire. My father huddles me close and shields me from the view of guns.

"Bring me Victor Zsasz!"

"Leave, (Y/n). Go home!" Jim pushes me away towards the doors.

~

Jeremiah POV:

I wave my hat fanning my pale skin placed upon the crippling bones. It's so damp and hot in here, but I'm freezing. My heart has gone cold without her scent around. Not a touch, not a wiff, not a glace for days it seems. Where is my angel with my bundles of joy?

"You see, a river cuts through rock not because of its power, but because of its persistence. So what do we do when we feel like giving up? Dig a little deeper. And what do we do when we can't possibly go on any longer? Dig a little deeper. And what do we..." A sharp blade stabs into my side crippling my speech. I look down seeing the masked figure in the striped coat. I gasp feeling my footing slide as the attacker shoves the blade into my stomach further.

"Deep enough?" The individual removes the mask revealing the little pussy of them all. "Well, Selina, I must say..." She pulls the blade out plunging it back in sharply.

"Don't say anything." Over and over again the blade is shoved into my side. The light dimming, the hot steam hitting my brow, the devilish laughter of my brother. This is near my end? Maybe so...

"Selina!" The rat is stripped away from me causing me to fall to the ground barely clinging to the life of happiness I have.

"Selina!" Bruce Wayne holds the fierce kitty back. "Stop. It's done! It's over."

~

The building is quiet. The entire place is quiet... Not one swing of an ax hitting limestone, making a light clink sound. Not the ring of my husbands voice calling to his men. Not even Echo meeting me at the door with my slippers and milkshake. Something is not right.

"Jeremiah?" I call out as if he could hear me from below. If not him then someone. One of the members at least, but no one came. I proceeded to enter the elevator only to see blood on the buttons and floor. They were having the graduation today, not everyone makes it.

The doors  open to the pool room and I could almost drop to my knees at the smell. Thick scent of blood coating the walls. I walk out of the elevator and down into the pool counting the dead. No Echo or Jeremiah. Good so far.

I make my way down to the tunnels where silence has taken over. Just a simple lone man sitting in a chair. "Where is Jermiah?" I panic pulling my jacket closer. Could he have left me?

"Mrs. Valaska!" "Where is my husband?" "He's off in the tunnels. He's got injured. I'm supposed to take you to him." "Well, go on!" He shuffles his feet in a pace of nervousness, tripping over rocks and pickaxes. "How did he get hurt?" "Someone came in and just stabbed the boss. She was taken away by Bruce Wayne." I feel fire ignite in my blood. Selina and Bruce. What a treat. Trying to kill my husband in my own home.

Down the tunnels I hear him. Groaning in pain as Echo stitches him up. "How could you let this happen?" I shout at her. "She was fast." "And you're supposed to be faster." I glare at her as she cowers at my words.

"Don't stress, darling. It's not good for the babies."

"Jeremiah." I kneel down next to him grabbing his face. "Are you alright?" He places his hands over mine, kissing them each. "I'm still alive. One thing I've still got on my brother. How are you, my love? I'm sorry. You must've been wrecked with worry." Jeremiah pulls me into his lap. I nod with my bottom lip out. "Yes, I was. I was so scared, Jer." He pulls me to him. "Aw my darling. I know. I know."

I shift my weight slightly causing him to jet in a sharp inhale. "Oh, honey. Stitches still sore?" He nods. "Never would have happened if you wore that armor I prepared." Echo hums, causing me to roll my eyes. "That bullet makes you sentimental of the wrong things." I huff out pushing her out of the view.

"Why would you not check who was working? You always do. You're always prepared." Jeremiah places his hand on my cheek again. "I had to let Selina thrust the knife into my flesh at least once. Verisimilitude trumps precaution, you see." "They think you're dead." I think putting everything together.

Echo stands to the side bouncing with information. "What is it?" She giggles jumping on her heels. "All systems go." Jeremiah lifts himself, placing a hand on the small of my back and leading us along behind Echo.

"You could've died." I whisper looking at the dirt. "I didn't." "But you could have, Jeremiah. That's my point. You have two children growing, and soon they'll be out in this world. They need their father. You've kept me safely away, but that won't mean shit if you're not around to protect your children." I move ahead of him in a fit of fire.

A hand grabs my shoulder spinning me around. Jerehimah dips me and pushes our lips together. His grip on my arm and hip so tight, keeping me pulled to him with no fight. He pulls away only an inch, looking at my eyes, looking into the soul. "Now, you may not understand everything I do, but I do it for you and these two kids. I think and I plan for hours. You sit up in the bed resting your feet like I tell you. When you start questioning if I'm going to make it, that's when this will fall apart. You're my darling. You've been mine for thousands of years. Never doubt me, (Y/n)." He places his hands on my stomach and pecks my forehead. "Come along now. We have things to do."

Leading me through the tunnels I start to see less of the dirt and more solid grey rock already formed into tunnels. "Where are we?" Jeremiah giggles pulling me alongside.

"Doctor. I'm hearing good things." Jeremiah says holding in laughter.

What is he up to?

The Doctor nods. "The bandages are ready to come off. Your assistant thought you'd like to see the results." Echo shakes her head in praise like a dog while Jer nods his head. "Indeed, I would."

He turns to me. "You won't want to miss this, (y/n)."

The Doctor unravels the bandages on the individuals faces revealing a profile built from professional lifestyle and diets. This is Thomas and Martha Wayne before my eyes... ALIVE!

"Oh, you two look beautiful." I smile looking down at her pearl necklace. "Down to the very detail with you." Jeremiah kisses my cheek. "I love family reunions, don't you?" "More than Christmas!" I cheer and giggle.

[avoutput]

Mario Mario & Luigi Mario || Super Mario Bros.

The beginning of any quest has its starting pains. In the early 90’s, Hollywood set out to begin getting a cut of that sweet video game money. At the time, video games were mostly considered toys, and they were advertised as such. As the medium grew more adult, so did its films. Still, they had to begin somewhere, and why not with the biggest gaming property on the planet past and present: Super Mario Bros. This provided an unknowingly impossible challenge for creatives, one that is still a topic of intense discussion to this day. How does one balance the adaptation of a property from a completely different format into film? At the time, other films that looked similar to what Super Mario Bros would become had succeeded despite the challenges of adapting comics for film. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and the first re-imagination of Batman since the 60’s went on to invigorate their respective properties. Today, comic book movie adaptations are the tent pole of every major movie studio. In the case of Super Mario Bros, despite its critical failure at the time, I honestly feel like the creatives succeeded. The ire this film would glean over time from both fans and the people behind the camera fuel its bad reception to this day. In my opinion, it is actually a success story in the world of video game adaptations, and a great place to start if you plan on watching every Hollywood attempt. I promise you this: it could be so much worse. And for later attempts, it was! But, does Super Mario Bros thwomp?

In my initial argument, I raised that these films should be broken down into categories including: Originality, Preservation, Construction, Delivery, and Fanservice. Originality and Preservation can be at complete odds with one another. In the case of Super Mario Bros, it turns out to be a good combination of both. They offset each other just enough to find a balance between the reality of our world and the fantasy of the mushroom kingdom. Sit back in your chair and imagine the real world of 1993, what films looked like back then, the landscape of video game culture. I think the creators had this very much in mind when they penned this movie. The very first thing that happens in the Super Mario Bros movie is the NES theme song with all the depth a stereo sound system can provide. It really sets your little gamer heart aflutter. It conjures up images of the brightly colored games. Using narration, they make promises of dinosaurs, meteors, and other dimensions. If you don’t think too hard, it kind of sounds like a version of Super Mario Bros that was advertised via the game manuals and cartoon show. If you are familiar with either, a pair of New York plumbers essentially get sucked down a drain pipe. This process is a little more drawn out in the film, but It turns out more or less exactly as good as could have been expected in 1993. In fact, the film really isn’t above sucking them down a drain pipe, they do crazier things, but I suspect that they wanted the plumbers to have a more direct conflict that would lead them to try and save princess Daisy.

The plot of the film is par for the course in a children's film and a direct consequence of the game itself, especially if you consider the 3rd entry. A good king and an evil military general, betrayals and coups, princesses sent to live in another realm only to return home with a pair of knights to dethrone the evil king. A tale as old as time, one that continues to be retold because it resonates with us. The filmmakers were really focused on this being a performance of realism meets fantasy This would come to be the major struggle that other video game movies would continue to have problems balancing. They took concepts from the game and gave them an original spin and most within the framework of the original work. Their creative license is often challenged for these choices, but in the context of making a live action Super Mario Bros movie in 1993, those challengers should check themselves. The real question you should ask yourself is, in this context, what would you have done differently? And would it really have been better? I struggled to find a way to truly make the concepts of this movie any MORE appealing, but it was surprisingly easy to make it worse. In one way, this film was a by the numbers kids adventure story, but it's being held to task mostly for failing to be a good adaptation of the game, a bar which didn’t exist when they made it, but one they set and cleared simply by attempting to do so much. All the Mario concepts are easily recognizable, which should be applauded, even in the face of them being a little wacky.

Despite its failings in authenticity, it actually packs quite a lot of fanservice into almost every frame. If you pay attention once they enter Bowser’s domain, the walls are littered with little ads and jokes all based on Mario properties. This is all in an effort to please fans, but the film does tend to leave these little things in the background, the camera more focused on the characters and plot, so blink and you miss them. If anything, this duty to fanservice seems somewhat creatively arresting. Had this film not been an adaptation of another work, they may have opted to skip a few things, like how Mario and Luigi employ the use of mushrooms. In the game, these would make the bros bigger, but this would have been a bit at odds with the backdrop of the grimmy New York City analogy they chose, not to mention technically difficult. People have been squashing miniatures for years, but I just don’t see this being a good use of the film’s time given every other decision. The film's overwhelming attempt to create entirely new flesh on the skeleton of an animated game is really only hampered by the audience's willingness to enjoy it for what it is, by questioning every creative decision. A lot of effort was taken to make the world feel cohesive, especially in its attempt to be parallel to existing New York City. They even take time on some more clever jokes that go somewhat unspoken. Everything in Bowser City runs on electricity, including the cars. The idea here is that fossil fuels do not exist because the dinosaurs of this world haven’t ever fossilized. Or maybe the dinosaurs knew it was bad for their planet? The film is constructed and delivered in such a way as to not take itself too seriously, but to appear parallel to something familiar to our own world in conjunction with the Super Mario world.

After having sat through the film with an earnest critical eye, I am not going to tell you the film is greater than the sum of its parts or that it's fantastic because it set out on an uncharted path. Instead, what I will attest to is that it was truly competent. It made every attempt to give you what you wanted and also took a few of their own twists on the formula. Bullet Bills turned into fuel for jumping, Bomb-oms wear Reeboks, shoes facilitate their ability to jump but also satisfy the boot you wear in Super Mario Bros 3. They even use the lightgun from the NES to navigate screens much like a mouse and the SNES super gun as a weapon! All this and still they found a way to make it all fit within the italian brothers from Brooklyn framing. Unfortunately, it would seem no one really learned anything from the success or the failures of this film. If the 90’s game films are any indication, the only thing they learned is that the box office is fickle and to double down on fan service even when it doesn't make sense, and in some cases, abandon everything about the game entirely and simply slap the name on a completely original film. And yet, despite all the bad press and internal struggles the Super Mario Bros production had, they came out the other end with an inoffensive, enjoyable film that both kids and adults can enjoy. Especially if they forgive the film any perceived sins, a gift that all film adaptations deserve, and just try to recognize what they really accomplished. Bringing to life a world that only existed in your Nintendo. It may not have been pretty, but damn if it wasn’t entertaining.

[senjuushi]

Translation: Cutlery’s Fantastic X-Mas

Another translation in very good time! o3o Despite being eleven pages long, I got this done pretty quickly, somehow? It’s hilarious. Nothing like Hokusai shaking a bomb in 89′s face because he doesn’t realize that most other people do care if they die. XD Also, 89′s crush on Mikhael (and tendency to form crushes, in general), is the cutest thing. I love his brief moment of hope... 

Also, Cutlery and Kunitomo are two of the Antiques. Don’t mind them. 

Episode 2: Strategy on the Eve of Christmas Eve

89: Ugh, it’s cold... I seriously can’t do missions on days like this.

Hokusai: For someone so weak to the cold... Ta-da! A present made special by me, hot-hot bomb number three!

89: The fuck is that blue thing? A tennis ball?

Hokusai: Nein! It contains a particular chemical developed by me~

Hokusai: Just rattle it around, give it a shake, and... amazing~! In the blink of an eye, it gets piping hot! And just like that, I’m nice and warm!

Hokusai: Since it’s still in the prototype phase, every so often, the chemical reaction will increase to an excessive degree, and it’ll explode~ Ahahaha!

89: Damn it, don’t laugh... Tell me that part from the beginning...

. . .

Soldier A: ...hm? Hey, is there no one over that way?

Soldier B: A resident? ...no, can’t be. There aren’t any people left in the ruins of a town like this.

Soldier A: ...ah! He’s escaping! Hold it right there!!

Soldier B: Here he is! This way!

Cutlery: Hah... these guys are persistent. This is bad, but I can’t let myself cause trouble for everyone again—!

Soldier A & B: Aaaah...!

. . .

89: ...hey, what the hell’s that noise?

Soldier A: W-We pursued a... suspicious individual... and... he fought back...

Soldier A: ...th-the enemy has a small-sized gun... A knife...

Hokusai: Uh-oh~ Did he just die?

89: He passed out, that’s all. Anyway, are we supposed to chase that other guy?

Hokusai: Yep, yep, roger~!

89: A small-sized gun... and a knife, huh? I feel like I heard something about that recently...

...maybe I imagined it.

Episode 5: Turn-Around Victory

89: Tch... The snow is so intense, I can hardly follow the footprints in it. This fucking cold shit’s such a pain...

Hokusai: Well, it’s useless to just wander around. I wanna go home and get back to my experiment... and give it another try!

89: Agreed. Let’s hurry up and go home.

Hokusai: ...oh? It looks awfully crowded over there, huh? 89-kun, before we go home, let’s go have a look~!

Hokusai: Woah! So cool! But it for sure loses points for all that red. Prussian blue is best, after all!

89: ...that’s right. Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve...

Hokusai: Oh, what’s this~? What’s the matter, 89-kun?

89: Nothing at all.

89: ...ah!

Woman: Aah! I’m so sorry! You’re not hurt, are you?

89: N-No... That much isn’t gonna—

Man: Whoah there! Are you okay, my sweetheart? Here, hold onto my arm. Don’t fall again, alright?

Woman: Hehe, thank you. I love you, darling. ♡

89: ...........

89: Damn it... I hate Christmas bringing out all this gross, sappy shit...! Normies should all go die...! Normie guns too...!

Mikhael: Such a resentful voice right before the holy night... such a lack of peace.

Hokusai: What’s this!? Mikhael-kun! Quite the coincidence to meet you here. What’cha doing?

Mikhael: I came here to decide on Christmas ornaments. Ones to offer to our Master for the upcoming piano reception.

Mikhael: If the venue has an enchanting atmosphere, won’t the guests enjoy it even more?

89: Huh... You’re doing something real refined there, I guess.

Mikhael: Yes, precisely... And these are written invitations for you two. Here you are, 89. Hokusai.

89: Wha...! I-Is that really okay!? Wow, this is insane... A Christmas piano concert....!

Hokusai: Mikhael-kun’s piano, hm? It’s been quite a while since I last heard it, so I’m sure this’ll be fun~

89: ...’kay! For the sake of tomorrow, let’s hurry up and catch this guy who escaped!

Hokusai: Oh, you’re suddenly motivated, aren’t you? Well, we can have a good look around here too. Let’s go~!

Episode 8: A Meeting in the Same Town?

Mikhael: A rose ornament the color of blood in the midst of a pure white mall.

Mikhael: ...yes. This one appears to be quite high-quality. May I have it?

Kunitomo: Of course. Thank you for your business!

Soldier A: Here’s the payment. Please, pack everything up quickly.

Kunitomo: Thank you very much for your payment. I’ll have all of your purchases loaded onto this truck right away~!

Hokusai: Hey, Mikhael-kun. What sort of song are you going to play at the reception?

Mikhael: A requested one, composed by Bach. It’s a classic song for Christmastime.

89: Haah, this is useless. We’ll never find him. Anyway, couldn’t he have just frozen to death in the cold already?

89: ...that’s a believable story. Anyone wanna say that’s what happened?

Hokusai: What’s this, are you giving up now, 89-kun?

89: Yeah. ...fuck, I can’t keep doing this. Everywhere I look, all of these disgusting couples are ogling each other...

89: Thanks to that, my life points are dropping...

...huh?

Kunitomo: Welcome in~ Are you looking for something, in particular?

89: You... Are you Japanese? That’s pretty rare here.

Kunitomo: H-Haha, that’s what I’m told~

89: Do you live here? Or what—

Mikhael: 89? The shopping is taken care of. We were about to return to the castle, but... You two are still lingering here?

89: Oh... Wait a s-sec, I’ll be right back...!

Kunitomo: ..........

Kunitomo: Th-Th-That gas mask... Could he have been one of the Modern gun Musketeers!?

Kunitomo: Aaaah, he didn’t realize I’m a Musketeer too, right? Haah~ That was so scary...