#driving me crazy trying to figure out vast and dark

[watchingyoufromthestars]

Dndads fans who’ve listened to tma does anyone have any ideas on who I could parallel for my last three fears? I’m setting up all the entity marks and I’m still missing Vast, Flesh, and Dark. I’m considering Barry as a Flesh avatar but I also want to put him in Willy’s (Elias) inner circle along with Bill (Peter). Can be literally any character even NPCs we met for only one episode. The only off limits ones are the s2 teens including Hermie. Their roles are super set in stone.

[shizucheese]

So fun fact I normally try to avoid Tumblr between Thursday and when I finally get to listen to the new Protocol episode because that seems easier than constantly blocking and unblocking the spoilers tags, but also this is my preferred social media site so it generally results in a vicious cycle of me hopping in Tumblr, and either VERY CAUTIOUSLY scrolling (or scrolling only through specific tags), or completely forgetting until I see even a HINT of something Protocol related (even if it's not spoilers) and figuratively running away screaming.

As always, you can find the full evolving red string board here. It's getting real long. I'm trying to decide if I want to start a fresh one for season 2 or if I want to see how long and unwieldy that puppy can really get. What do you guys think?

Today is Monday, 3/4/24. Episode 8 came out on 2/29/21.

“Talkers”

Norris (Voice: Martin?/ Alex)

Episode 1: “Reanimation (Partial) -/- Regret [Email]”. The Stranger? The End? The Dark? The Lonely? The Flesh? Arthur (Nolan?).

Episode 3: "Infection (full body" -/- Arboreal [Journal entry]". The Spiral? (Paranoia? Auditory, visual and olfactory hallucinations) The Lonely? The Corruption. The Flesh? (Callbacks to the Flesh Garden from S5)

Episode 8: "Architecture (liminal) -/- hunger [coursework]". The Spiral. The Lonely. (Statement giver has an ex-wife. Witnesses strange mist. Fog?) The Stranger? The Vast. The Flesh. The description of the space reminds me a bit of Mag 150: Cul-De-Sac. The description of the diners and the way they were speaking reminds me of Mag 48: Lost in the Crowd.

Common Themes: Hearing the voice of a dead/ missing loved one? Loneliness

Chester (Voice: John?/ Jonny)

Episode 1: “Transformation (eyes) -/- Tresspass [chat log]”. Magnus Institute, The Eye. (Involves a forum; the Web?).

Episode 5: "Disappearance (undetermined) -/- Invitation [Internet blog]". The Eye (Movies. Movie name: "Voyeur" "Must be seen to be believed"...). The Web? (Another website?). (Very reminiscent of Mag 110: Creature Feature.) The "poor old guy" at the theater is totally an Eye avatar, right? Kinda gives me "Simon Fairchild when he was first introduced" vibes.

Episode 7: "Agglomeration (miscellany) -/- congregation [email]". The Stranger. The Burried. The Desolation. Possibly all of them if my theory about the items the Volunteers brought in is correct...

Unsure if this is Eye related like the other statements were. This is also the first "Chester" statement where the source material wasn't from a website or blog, which don't have the same expectation of privacy that the sources of the other statements do. Email, though, so still internet related, and this seems to be an open letter rather than personal correspondence, so it still might align with the theme.

Agustus: (rare?)

Episode 4: “Collection (blood) -/- musical [letter]” The End. The Lonely? The Slaughter.

Letter writer thinks passing on his violin might allow a part of himself to live on in his nephew. Very Jonah Magnus of him.

Music teacher hears “faraway music”, then goes crazy and throws himself out of the carriage and dies. Reminiscent of Mag7 and the Piper? The merchant’s wares include dice (Mag 29?). Got the violin from him (took his blood?). Effect of the violin reminiscent to Grifter’s Bone (Mag 42).

(Oliver Bardwell lol very funny guys)

Non-Talkers (?)

Episode 2: "Transformation (full) -/- dysmorphic [video call]". The Spiral? The Flesh. The Stranger. Ink 5oul (avatar/ entity?)

Episode 6: "Injury (needles) -/- intimidation [999 call] "Corruption? The Spiral? The Flesh? The End?

"Needles" reminds me of Michael!Distortion.

Notes and Thoughts:

I think we've all been a bit off about the theme of the Norris statements. The common theme isn't I lost a loved one; I can almost hear their voice..." The common theme is loneliness. Like yeah, the statement giver mentions being divorced, but it doesn't seem to be a central driving factor for him the way it was with the other two Norris statements. I think it's just that those two were lonely because they lost a loved one and had isolated themselves in one way or another because of it, and this guy was lonely because he got trapped in a liminal space.

Alice sounds really tired. What's up with that? (Also, considering how much she continues to seem to enjoy messing with people, I'm still convinced she has some connection to the Web.)

GERRY?!!! (not a coincidence. The credits call him Gerry Keay. Also same VA, but I totally didn't recognize him at first because he sounds happy???) GG??? (Credits say Sue Sims as Gertrude Robinson!!!) "Grandson" you say? For realsies? Or did you adopt him (again kinda)? Or is it a cover like it was the last time. Gertrude's word choice of "good luck hunting" was weird, huh...? Is this actually something big or are they just cameos because Alex and Jonny like to mess with us. I trust nothing. Why did the Magnus Institute have a "gifted kids" program? And is Sam just saying that as a cover story or is it true and that's why he's been so interested the whole time? (Reminds me a bit of certain elements of the Storage Papers...)

Celia is doing "a favor for Georgie"?!!!

Is this OUR Georgie or the TMP world Georgie? How much of a connection is there between TMA Gerry, Gertrude and Georgie and TMP Gerry, Gertrude and Georgie?

I wonder if the episode coming out on 2/29, a date that only exists every 4 years, and the episode being about liminal spaces was on purpose or just a happy coincidence.

[the-eggplantblog]

Space Mama is a beloved thespian. Growing up in Picture City she has spent all her time honing her skills on theatre stage selling out tickets to countless theatre performances starring her.

As film starting to take off however she was very hesitant and feared it would drive away people from coming to stage plays. Then the Great Protoon was stolen which almost completely killed her career as folks were now living in fear to watch her performance. Then a mysterious figure Mr. Dark used his deception to trick her into thinking Rayman was responsible for this which is why you fight her.

After Rayman defeated Mr. Dark and recovered the Great Protoon she apologized to Rayman and as thanks she gave him an unlimited pass to watch any of her current and future performances. She’s even starting to come around on films too. Who knows you might catch her on Glade of Dreams Broadway.

I LOVE THIS HEADCANON IT IS SUBLIME. I'll be honest, I love the vast majority of bosses in Rayman 1, they seem like very funny guys to me, they all have varied concepts and even a certain personality, Space Mama is a very difficult boss, but I love how the battle takes place in a theater and the plays are about from space mama being the heroine trying to destroy the evil that is rayman, that's funny and definitely gives personality to the battle xd

I love this headcanon because it makes a lot of sense with space mama, I like how she is an actor who loves theater but is afraid that people no longer appreciate that art, because of cinema and the arrival of Mr Dark and the evil creatures… …then Mr Dark took advantage of her fears and insecurities about the theater and the destiny of art and Picture City, to manipulate her and convince her that Rayman was the bad guy, but then she feels very bad for attacking a child who simply wanted to help.

I have had the headcanon, that when Mr Dark stole the Great Protoon and the chaos that occurred due to his actions negatively affected the Galde creatures and their worlds, this seriously affected the bosses of those worlds, Mr Dark took advantage of the chaos and fear, to manipulate the bosses, manipulating the facts to appear as the good guy and Rayman as the threat and monster, like Eggman with nuckles, or also this chaos affected the bosses so seriously that they lost their minds, attacking anyone who they believe is the cause of commit all the destruction in their worlds…..

but the good thing is that after all the events of rayman 1 things were clarified and rayman's innocence was proven, all the bosses felt really bad, for believing mr dark's lies or losing their minds and going crazy, maybe point that they seriously believed that an innocent and tender child who just wanted to solve things was the real threat and a monster, but Rayman had no grudge against them and forgave them and even helped rebuild their worlds. ​

[caesurah-tblr]

This is... Something. I wrote this to try and get a feel for a fic I’m working on called Tides of The Fated! It you like it, please tell me! I’m trying to get out of a writer’s block and the best way to do that is to have some feedback from you guys! 

It's almost like he's back on the ship- If he closes his eyes and blocks out the gentle whirring sound of the gems, it feels like he's back on the deck of the Albatross. It hasn't been that long, but Gods does he miss his crew.

"Uh, Chip, is it?" The voice makes him jump. He hadn't even heard Sylnan's footsteps.

"Uh, yeah." Chip responds. Sylnan hums in response and leans against the railing of the ship, looking over it at the vast landscape underneath them. It's quiet between them for what feels like forever, then-

"Thinkin' of home?"

"You could call it that." Chip has never really considered anywhere home. In his experience, home isn't a place, but people. "You'd think about home if you were away from it too."

A haunted look passes over Sylnan's face. It reminds Chip of his own face when he looks in a mirror.

"I've never had a home. At least not physically." The haunted look is replaced with a fond smile. "I've found that no matter how good or bad a place is, it's the people that make the place a home. Even if they drive you crazy."

Talking to Sylnan feels to Chip like he's talking to himself. It's obvious that Sylnan has been through unimaginable horrors, has lost people that he's loved but somehow has found a rock to stand on, something to help keep the nightmares at bay.

Chip thinks of Sylnan's friends. The drawf who tried to gut him during their first meeting- Mountain. The strikingly beautiful but dangerous teifling- Velrisa. The timid but kind tabaxi- Taxi. And the very loud and eccentric half elf- Br'aad. They're a very weird bunch, and they fight a lot, but somehow they all fit together like misshapen puzzle pieces.

It reminds Chip of his crew. Of Gillion, who has a heart of gold and is willing to die for anyone who he considered a friend. Of Jay, who is brave and much more of a natural leader than he could ever be. And, despite the things they've been through, they too fit like misshapen puzzle pieces. He doesn't know where he would be without them.

"I think I get what you mean." Chip turns to Sylnan to find him messing with something- a small doll. It's roughly hand carved, but Chip can tell the little figure was made with care. He could see the unmistakable likeness to Br'aad even through the jagged edges.

Sylnan places the doll on the railing of the ship, keeping it between two fingers so it doesn't topple over into the void. Chip leans over to look at it.

"You make that?"

"Hm? Uh, yeah." Sylnan picks it up and places it in his palm for Chip to take. He does, making sure to handle it with care. "Br'aad had something similar when we were kids, but it when missing at some point. I thought it would make him happy to have a replacement."

Chip thinks of his coin, and how devastated if it ever went missing. It must have meant a lot to Br'aad. "He must mean a lot to you."

"Everything." Sylnan answers without hesitation, "He means everything to me. I'd be dead without him."

Gods, Chip wants to know Sylnan's story. Something about the way he says that last sentence, the way he places his hand on his midsection betrays something. Something dark.

The half-elf holds out his hand and Chip places the small figure into his hand. Sylnan tucks it into his pocket and gives him a nod.

"I'm off for the night."

"Goodnight then." Chip nods at him and turns back to the railing, prepared to spend the night out on the deck.

"And Chip?"

He turns his head back to the other. "Yeah?"

"If you ever need to… talk? I'm here." Sylnan grips his left arm. Bandages cover it. "Even though we've just met, I feel like I can trust you. And I know how important it is to have someone to talk to."

Chip is taken aback by the words. He's known Sylnan for a day, at most? But he feels like he can trust the half elf. When he looks into his eyes, he feels like he's looking into Jay's eyes for some reason. It's like they share… something. Chip isn't sure what that is, but he's willing to trust it.

"I'll make sure to remember that. Goodnight Sylnan."

"Night." Sylnan seems to disappear into the darkness of the ship, leaving Chip alone once more.

[jisungful]

abandoned.

summary :: breaking into an old abandoned elementary school isn’t always the best idea.

pairing :: chenle x gn!reader x jisung (platonic)

genre :: horror/thriller

warnings :: all characters are kind of dumb (first person to die in a horror movie type beat), breaking and entering, implied serial killer!au, murder, blood, descriptions of gore, psychotic actions, character death, all that stuff :D

word count :: 2.4k

a/n :: as I was writing this, I practically scared myself D: also the ending is kinda rushed but oh well

The end of the school year was supposed to be fun, full of surprises, and that one surprise was Chenle clinging onto you like a koala with a tree. Up to this point, you hadn’t thought of how much of an interesting boy he could be--but him giving you physical affection? You could never believe it.

Chenle let go of you before saying, “Come to the library with me and Jisung,” His hair was messy, as well as his uniform shirt. You assumed he just went around hugging other people besides you. He grinned at you, “We’re planning to do something fun as a celebration for the last day of school! Let’s go!” He grabbed your wrist tightly, but not enough to cause circulation loss, at least. You began contemplating whether or not it was a good idea to follow suit of the boy, knowing him. Nonetheless, you were curious.

You both arrived at the library, seeing Jisung already sitting at one of the tables reading a comic. Sitting down in front of the boy, he closed the book once he felt your presences. He greeted with a small smile, you and Chenle doing the same. “Alright listen,” Chenle started, clearing his throat before broadcasting the plan aloud, “We’re going to go to my elementary school—but with a twist.” He grinned before continuing, “It’s been so long since I’ve been there, so it’s abandoned now and I’m pretty sure no one monitors it anymore. Although... it is still intact so we need to break in.”

“Woah, wait, we are not going to break into an elementary school.” you cautioned.

Chenle rolled his eyes and rested his palm on his jawline. “It’s not like it’s haunted or anything. As I said, no one monitors it anymore--you guys just aren’t fun.”

Jisung clasped his hands together before letting out a sigh, “I thought you were joking at first and just wanted to go and play on the playground or something. But seriously?” He shuddered slightly, subconsciously flipping the pages of the comic he was reading earlier. You nodded at him before returning your gaze back on Chenle. All that was written on his face was smugness.

“We have to try it once. Think about it! It’ll be fun, you know? It’s like in movies, we just have to be cautious of our surroundings.” Chenle assured.

You can’t believe you’re doing this. You really can’t. It was 3 fucking am and you decided it was a great idea to go along with Chenle (out of everyone else in the world) and his plan to break into his old elementary school just for fun.

You packed your backpack with a few essential items: a flashlight, a few bottles of water, a baseball bat, and a crowbar. You kept it unzipped at the top so they could all fit, keeping your phone in your spacious hoodie pocket. You put on a mask and a beanie to keep yourself covered in case of security cameras. You put on your backpack, adjusting to the heaviness. If you were being honest, you had this rush of nervousness flowing through your body, the fear of not knowing what will happen to the three of you once you break in and enter the abandoned building. Nonetheless, you head to your front door to walk to Chenle’s house as the three of you decided to go to beforehand. Step by step, your body grew warmer as anxiety rose. It hadn’t hit you that you’d never done this before--you were always the type to stay in and not go out doing reckless activities; but here you are, doing that exact thing.

Immediately as you stepped on Chenle’s rug that was placed in front of the door, it opened, him now in front of you. He moved aside for you to enter the place. “You got everything?” He questioned and you nodded. “Jisung’s not here yet, so I guess we have to just wait.”

You both sat on his leather couch, staring down at the empty mug with thoughts roaming your brain. It wasn’t breaking in that was scaring you--but the thought of getting caught and living with the guilt that you had done something illegal was. Attempting to engage in conversation, you spoke, “How did you even come up with this idea?”

Chenle chuckled lightly, fiddling with the watch on his wrist. “It just came to my head out of nowhere, I guess.”

Hearing the sound of knocking on the door, you stood up abruptly, Chenle following after. You both headed to the front and opened it for Jisung. “You have everything, right? We should go now.” Jisung nodded and let out a breath he was previously unknowingly holding.

You three went inside of Chenle’s car, with Chenle driving and Jisung and you seated at the back. You took off your backpack and placed it on the floor of the car, the weight removed gave you sudden relief on your shoulders. Jisung plugged his phone into the aux cord and played soft, lo-fi music to soothe the nerves that were getting to you unknowingly.

You sighed, laying your head on the headrest of the car seat, looking out the window. It was a rather peaceful night despite what you were going to do in a couple of minutes—stars beginning to deem visible across the vast, dark sky, with only a few cars passing by in which you could count with your fingers. That was when you felt eyes boring into the back of your head, and you turned to see Jisung staring at you. You furrowed your brows and muttered a ‘what’. “I’m nervous, Y/N,” he breathed out, fear clearly laced in his voice.

You bit your lip. “It was Chenle’s idea, we can blame him for all of this.” you joked.

The elementary school definitely does not look as you expected--before coming, you imagined it to be completely abandoned, having growing moss on the walls, windows that were broken or punched, or even having “caution” tape around it. You guess it only happens in movies. But this school looked almost normal, for some reason, with only overgrown trees around it as the leaves fell on it. You let out a soft sigh, relieved that it looks fairly approachable and safe to go into.

“This is crazy, it’s been so long since I’ve been here. Let’s go!” Chenle beamed. You looked at Jisung for a moment, giving him a reassuring smile and a nod before putting on your heavy backpack and exiting the car as he did as well.

The three of you stood outside of the back door of the building, looking around for any suspicious cameras though found none. You pulled your mask up further before checking on Chenle and how he’s putting up with his attempts at opening the door. “I can’t find any key,” he grunted. You offered him the crowbar that was hanging off your backpack, and to your luck, it worked on opening the door. Jisung let out a surprised sound as he stood behind you.

The back door led to the gym in which you stood. It was empty, except for the lone basketball that sat in the middle of the vast room. The lights didn’t work, so you came to the conclusion that it would be best to use your flashlights, instead. You followed Chenle as he was the only person that knew the way around this place. He went toward the door which led to the hallway of the school, which connected to the many classrooms. The atmosphere felt terribly dismal, and it didn’t leave you with a good feeling. You couldn’t help but focus on the smell that hadn’t been freshened up for years.

“This is my 4th-grade classroom,” He slid open the door and across the room were sprawled out desks and chairs--it was like a forest, avoiding all of these objects just to get to the other side was like a journey in itself. In the back of the room were stapled class pictures of old students and teachers on a corkboard. Chenle desperately searched for the photo with him in it, searching across what seemed like around 10+ photographs. “Ah, here’s me!” He said, gesturing for you and Jisung to come to him. He pointed to his 10-year-old self, shining a flashlight on it to show it clearer. “It’s crazy how it’s still here.”

“You were cute,” Jisung commented.

“Are you saying I’m not cute now?” Chenle scoffed jokingly. He removed the photo from the corkboard and shoved it neatly into the small pocket of his backpack, thinking of showing it to his parents later today once he figures out a good enough excuse to where he found it.

You yawn, eyes getting tired minute by minute, second by second as you continue your journey throughout the huge school. You entered room 3B, which seemed like a music room—chairs stacked in 5’s, music sheets laying on the scattered desks, posters of musicians and guitar and piano chords on the walls begging to fall down to the ground as the tape holding it up collects dust. A piano lies near the corner of the room and Chenle sits on the bench that stood in front of it. He plays a mellow tune as you and Jisung look at all of the instruments that were isolated in a metal storage cabinet. You take out a recorder and try to remember the notes of the infamous ‘Hot Cross Buns’—however your memorization skill isn't the best and you end up with random noises. Jisung laughs at your attempt and you laugh back, putting the instrument back to where it was placed. You head towards Chenle, who was heavily concentrated on playing the song that was on the sheet on the music desk. You listen to the pretty sounds until he stops for a moment.

“It sounds beautiful,” you say.

Chenle chuckles before standing up and ruffling his hair, “I know, I’ve been playing practically since birth, you know?”

You both stood there, the moonlight reflecting on your skin through the thin glass. You turn your head, “Where’s Jisung?” You had thought the boy would follow you when you were walking toward Chenle—but he didn’t. There was no third shadow moving alongside yours and the boy beside you; the atmosphere grew cold. You beckoned Chenle to come with you before walking towards the classroom door to once again enter the hallway.

“Jisung! Are you an idiot? Where are you?” Chenle shouted out loud but there was no voice that followed. A curse word was muttered, you begin scrambling out of the music room to find the 5’11 boy that suddenly vanished into thin air. You knew how afraid he was during the car ride here and you never thought you would leave him alone like this. You stuck by Chenle’s side as you searched through most of the classrooms in the building.

No sign.

You were startled as you unlocked the door to the janitor’s closet, shining your flashlight down the stairwell that was somehow built in the tiny room. “Chenle, come here,” you beckoned. He rushed to you quickly; his eyes widened once he saw what was hidden inside the room.

“I’ve never seen this before,” he chuckled, “Maybe Jisung went in here, but for what?” You shrugged at the boy’s assumption, furrowing your brows before stepping in. Jisung was always curious about the world—you might think it’s his first life and he’s fascinated by every small detail that the universe could give him. Though, you would never expect that he would be curious about this particular stairwell.

A horrid smell hit you both once you reached halfway down the staircase. You muttered a curse word, “Fuck. It smells rotten in here,” Chenle agreed, nodding at you. You continued your way down to see Jisung’s body lay flat on the floor like a ragdoll. You took in a sharp breath as you quickened your steps down to see six other bodies lay in front of him. You rapidly shout out the boy’s name as you frantically attempt to shake him awake, wishing in the back of your mind that he hadn’t ended up like the bodies that were obviously sitting beside you.

Jisung groaned, sitting right side up as he held his head. “What happened to you?!” You question, helping him stand up. He looked around the room once more before taking two steps back when he watched the dead bodies lay on the floor.

He shook his head rapidly as his hands held onto your wrist. “I-I just saw that and I don’t know what happened but…” he shut his eyes. “I should’ve stayed with you guys. I’m so so so sorry.” You hear footsteps nearing you, both of your heads turn to the sound.

“Jisung!” You yell out. You froze once you see crimson flow out of his neck. Your eyes follow the holder of the knife’s arm to his face slowly. You stared with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. “Chenle, what the fuck are you doing?!” you breathed out.

Chenle tilted his head back with a slight close-lipped smile, enigmatic. Your eyes filled with tears as you watched Jisung’s blood drip, his arms holding onto what he thought was his best friend. “It’s so fun doing this!” he giggled, eyes crinkling through his smile. He pulled out the knife before quickly stabbing it back inside Jisung’s neck. “Is little Jisung whimpering? I’m just playing with you!” His psychotic laughter soon filled your ears and your breath quickened once you watched as Chenle stabbed him in the stomach laying on top of Jisung, a dark red pours onto the floor steadily. You wanted to look away but your body could do nothing but be full of shock.

Chenle’s head jerked toward your direction. You gulped as he stood up to walk toward you with an innocent smile. Once he cornered your back to the wall, he dragged the knife covered in blood along your jawline. You winced as the sharp blade cut through your delicate skin, you clutched onto nothing making your knuckles turn white. “P-please…” you whisper.

His smile dropped once the knife entered the side of your torso. “Now, you two can be with me forever.”

[bvccy]

Tenderness and Ferocity | 6. The Last Day

Pairing: Winter Soldier!Bucky Barnes x Hydra!Reader Fic Synopsis: The Winter Soldier is starting to make stupid mistakes in the field, which is Bucky's way of trying to wrest back control and sabotage his handlers. Hydra brings a new doctor to figure out what's wrong with him and fix it. As she spends time with him, she becomes fond of the Winter Soldier, and he becomes fond of her. Bucky has other ideas. Or, a fic in which the Winter Soldier is the good guy and Bucky is actually the bad guy. Warnings for this chapter: Angst, some Violence Word count: 1858 Read on AO3: [link] [Previous Chapter] [Fic Masterlist] [Next Chapter]

"To get everything you want is not a good thing. Disease makes health seem sweet. Hunger leads to the appreciation of being full-fed. Tiredness creates the enjoyment of resting."

— Heraclitus

She wasn't supposed to be in the office on that day, at that hour. She spent all of the previous day mismanaging her tasks and various paperwork to create the plausibility of needing overtime. It was easy enough to convince one of her friends to drive her to the Headquarters, and she picked one that had no family just in case Hydra got overzealous… later.

One small mercy was that the whole building was mostly empty, except for the bare-bones of military personnel and the medical staff getting the Asset ready. They were due to fly him out late at night, and the sun was low in the sky.

The few staff who were there were surprised to see her, but she reassured them with easy smiles and a ditzy attitude that everything was fine. The Director was still in a meeting, said Suzi at the front desk, but he'd been there for hours and should be out any minute. And the Asset? "In his cell."

She went into her office like it was any other day, put on her lab coat, put her things the same place she usually did, and took only what she needed.

The way to the Soldier's cell was something she had mapped out a few days ago, first out of curiosity, then determination — and while she was at it, took note of a few more interesting pathways through the facility. The only thing to worry about were the guards.

"I'm here for a final evaluation before he's in the field."

"We weren't informed about that."

"Then go ahead and call the Director. I'm sure the Standard Operating Procedures are foremost in his mind."

The two guardsmen looked at each other, silently goading the other to pick up the radio while she nervously twirled a syringe with one hand, clenched a well-loved page in her pocked with the other.

"Go on, call him."

"…Door opened."

Her Soldier was waiting on the bed in his frightening black gear, hands clenched, feet apart, looking ready to pounce. He must have heard her coming a corridor away, and once he finally saw her there, his face broke into the most brilliant smile.

She grinned and snuck in the corner, right beneath the view of the camera. Silently, she beckoned him closer and uncapped the syringe, nodding to the men outside. He subdued them easily enough and, without even asking what she was thinking, followed her out: down the winding corridors, through parts stuck in reconstruction, in and out of the large dark meeting rooms she had the keys for.

They inevitably met a few guards on patrol, which the Asset could hear much in advance. When he first stopped her, arm out and hard which nearly took the wind out of her, she was frightened for a moment that he'd changed his mind. But he kept his eyes straight ahead, and she could tell by looking at him that he was listening intently.

With a feline slink, he stepped back and kept her behind him, further, further, into the doorway of a locked room while he holstered the guns they took from his keepers. She held onto him and steadied her breath against his back while he waited, silent as a statue, for the right moment. The men reached and passed them by, only just noticing him when it was too late — when one had his neck broken and the other was knocked out.

"Turn." he told her. She faced the wall without thinking and only heard a fleshy crack as he caved in the man's skull. Then he took her hand in his and led her away.

When there were too many at once, five of them approaching from somewhere to the left, he had them both crouch down in wait until the targets passed by the mouth of their corridor. They probably couldn't even see her, a minuscule target shielded behind him, as he steadily took them down with a shot to the head before they could even reach for their coms. The sound echoed through the emptiness, but she assured him they were almost out.

Within minutes, they reached a long white corridor, more civilian looking than the rest. At its end, an open door leading to a vast field and rows of jeeps and busses.

"We've made it." she laughed breathlessly, looking up to find him still tense and alert but smiling with her.

One leaping step after another and suddenly, in one breath, he was out. He had been out before, of course, but never like this. The coolth of the evening in early spring soothed his flushed skin as he walked out over the blackened earth and melting snow, a pale sun dipping beyond the horizon.

The Soldier already eyed a vehicle that looked good for the terrain, easy to hijack, small enough to be dumped somewhere once they were far enough away to start covering their tracks. He turned around to see her catching her breath as she took in the sight of him with pride, and relief, and some fear. She threw a chain of keys at him and he caught it mid-air.

"They're colour-coded with the jeeps. If you go South, in 15 miles there's an apartment complex. That's where the staff lives, keep driving. There are trackers on all the cars, but they stop transmitting beyond a 70 mile radius. Nearest settlement is 90 miles South-Southwest, an old fishing town."

"What?"

"The gate behind you, further that way, it'll be locked by now but the hinges are old and rusted."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"So you can escape, of course."

"But you're coming with me."

"I can't."

It was then that he noticed she hadn't stepped a foot outside, standing in the doorway at the very edge, one hand holding onto the frame. The rest of the facility was open behind her, a hungry maw empty and quiet.

"What do you mean you can't? Come with me."

"I took a oath. I can't leave my post unless dismissed or dead." she recited with chill equipoise.

Just like in the bad old days, the Soldier felt madness creeping in. "Then why let me go?"

"Hydra serves a noble goal, but what they were doing to you was wrong. They've never understood that, because they don't want to, because it's not convenient right now."

In the distance, through layers of concrete, he could hear them shouting to each other, panicking, having found the bodies. It wouldn't take long for them to figure it out.

"You know what they'll do to you…" he said, coming closer and just about ready to grab her but stopping, for now, right in front. The heat radiating off his body kept the evening breeze away and warmed her.

She felt the same horror he felt, but just shook her head. "I have to keep my honour."

"You don't need honor, you're just a dame!"

She cracked a smile at his odd choice of words, the unintended slight washing over her, 'just a…'. "Then why does it matter what happens to me?"

He placed his arms on either side, crowding her in the doorway and poised to pull her out. The shouting was always getting closer, she should start to hear it soon. "Because you're mine."

The smile paled from her lips and he thought he had finally gotten through. She looked around, searching for something and moved slightly closer, almost in his arms… And then a wall of metal bars came up at the push of a button, her sad face left in its penumbra. He gripped them instantly and started pulling.

"It's no use, even your arm isn't enough to break them." she consoled, placing her hands on his fists as much for his benefit as for her own. But he wouldn't let go and obstinately shook his head, mute with anger and going through any number of wild schemes in his head that could break her out.

"You know… I've always loved perfection, which is so well embodied in you." she spoke, leaning forward and holding his gaze. "They couldn't destroy you. They could only displace you, for a while. They can't destroy me either." she tried to comfort him. "Nothing can be destroyed. So don't worry."

He wanted to argue with her that it wasn't the same thing at all, that she was crazy, that it could be so bad, so much worse than she could imagine. As if reading his mind, she smiled and shook her head, and gave him a small kiss from between the bars. Then she turned around in a white flutter and ran away, down the corridor, further inside, the echo of her high heels clipping on the concrete drowned out by his angry shouts. She disappeared around the corner to the right, head kept intently down and not daring to look at him again. She kept one hand in her pocket, secretly caressing that white page with the clock he'd drawn for her.

The Soldier shook at the cage that stood in his way until he heard the boots and rattling of ammo one door away, and a gate opening further afield, outside. When the first shot rang and hit above his head, he turned and emptied what was left of a cartridge into the guardsman without even thinking. Then in an instant, one thoughtless instinct moved his body to the vehicle he had picked earlier. He planned to go back for her, but a thought in his head said: Later. The black car keys went in, just like she said, and he quickly found himself driving away. Now he just needed to find another way into the building. Sure, later.

One hand on the steering wheel, he took aim at the hinges of the closed gate in front and blew them loose enough for him to speed through and break it open, while shots rang out behind him. Maybe it was the air or the temperature outside, but he suddenly noticed just how heavy his left arm was, how cold, and how rigid. He didn't mean to drive very far, just far enough that he'd be out of sight and could circle around another way. He had to go back for her. Just a little bit later.

He navigated the half-frozen terrain to cross the 70 miles in well under an hour, the sound of his pursuers long faded away. He ditched the car in an overgrown ravine, and by midnight he reached the sleepy town she'd mentioned. His heart could finally afford to shrivel in his chest at the realisation that he hadn't gone back, and she wasn't there.

She must have known this place, must have seen once what he was seeing now, stepped on the same dirt road, breathed a different air under the shelter of the same sky — once, longer ago, before she knew him. His feet carried him on as his mind stayed behind and he struggled with himself, and with the burden of her last request — to not worry anymore.

Tagging: @chipilerendi @themaskismyface​

[imonthinice]

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 12/?

Word Count: 4.4k

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

God idk what i’m doing with this but i’m liking it lmao

next one might honestly be smut idk

Warnings: Violence, Swearing, Description of Blood, Gets heated, hints at trauma, no beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

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

Y/N walked through the streets of Gotham, which were once bustling with people, but now were quiet with the occasional hooker, she had caught the city as an unlively hour, where it seemed to sleep the night away while the vigilantes of the area watched it like their lives depended on it. In some ways it did, the stories they would tell when being interviewed were horrific sometimes, but Y/N figured a decent amount of it was for dramatization, to keep the people of Gotham off of the streets to protect them all from it.

The question was always protect them from what, and they never answered. So, it never kept the people of Gotham at bay from the streets at night, and had Y/N’s car not been towed, she would have been driving home in the safe, secluded area of her car, not the vast wilderness of the streets of Gotham.

She looked up at the sky to see one of the virgate boys using a grappling hook to fly to the other building, which was such a sight to behold for someone who never witnessed a superhero beyond Superman at home. She wished and longed to know more about the vigilante, but didn’t dwell or dote on that man, because she didn’t need to.

Something told her that he was watching though, tracing every step she made to make sure she got home in one piece. She thought she was crazy, her life didnt matter more than anyone else in Gotham. He’s not following me, why would he? she thought, Even though I’m dating Jason Todd, they probably don’t know Jason, so my life doesn’t mean much more to them than any one of the hookers along this street. I’m overthinking it.

The walk home took two hours, she left Jason’s at 4am just to find herself back home at 6am, bright and early as the sun rose, ready to greet the day and all it had in store for everyone. But the things it had in store for Y/N was a class and if she was lucky, cuddling with Jason. Nothing more, nothing less.

She would open her front door, unscathed from the journey home, except maybe for a few callouses on her feet, it was the last time she wouldn't pay for more than a day of parking, that’s for sure. Heels were not the shoes you wanted for a two-hour walk home in the Autumn cold, but they were what she had.

She thought about what she was going to do next, and the first thought she had was to shower. Not because she needed to, but because she wanted to nurse the terrible headache she had and to think some things through. What she normally did in the shower.

She wanted so much more from so much of her life. the main offender of seemingly not being enough for her was Jason. Not because she didn’t want more, but because she craved more from him. He was injured, so she wouldn’t get much more rom him for the time being, and it stung a little for her. She just wanted him, maybe sexually, maybe in a more romantic setting or maybe just on her couch on a Thursday afternoon. It was all three of those options and she knew it.

She pulled out of the shower and looked at the time, 6:50am. Okay, she thought, little more time than I wanted to spend in the shower, but I guess the universe had different plans for me today. What else do you have for me, universe? And how much of you plan involves Jason?

She would open her phone after quickly getting dressed. While she still cared for her appearance, she didn’t want to dress like she owned a law firm every day, so she didn’t. Just black jeans and a black top and she felt like a million bucks. 

Just some quick outfit inspo. I like doing these a lot. I think fashion is funky :))

Artemis had sent her a message asking where she was at around 4am, she wondered why the time, but she then remembered that Artemis’ boyfriend worked with Dick Grayson, who was Jason’s brother, who worked most nights until radical hours of the night. The chances that he saw her on her two-hour walk home was high, but the chances that that had also made it back to Jason was higher. She knew she was in for it.

Hey sorry, I was at Jason’s. Fell asleep in his arms the whole shebang. And yeah, that was me who screamed the yo momma joke at the press. It was super childish, I know, but I don’t care. Those fucks are sucking my life force out of me and harassing my boyfriend, even your boyfriend.

She would then look at the articles calling her a gold digger and worth-nothing childish insulter of the press. She laughed. If the press wanted a fight from her, she was more than willing to oblige and load the canons. 

She didn’t know how to fight back that well, since it was a mainly verbal fight, and she barely even knew how to  fight physically, hence all the running and non-confrontational arguments she had had to the press.

And like fucking clockwork, Jason texted her.

Did you walk home alone or are my brothers lying bastards?

I walked. I knew someone saw me, fuck.

Why did you walk home? I thought you drove here?

I did, but we spent more than 12 hours together Jason. I didn’t buy enough hours, suddenly my car was being towed.

You could have asked for a ride home from Alfred! He would have in a heartbeat.

I was going to! But  I got distracted and it all became a blur and suddenly I was part of the way home in the dark by myself!

What if you had gotten hurt?

Well, I saw one of the vigilantes of the city on the rooftops, I’m sure if I screamed they would have seen me. They always do see that stuff.

So, your car got towed huh?

Yeah, I don’t know when I’ll be able to pay it off. It’s not exactly like money my parents give me should go to my car getting towed because I got fucked over by seeing my boyfriend. 

You’ll figure it out. Sorry about the car, that’s got to suck fucking ass.

You think? I’m stuck taking the fuckin’ subway till I get my car back. I hate the subway, too many people. Far too many people. Too many eyes. It gets stressful really quickly. Might just walk every where honestly, I can’t deal with the eyes of strangers.

But you’re a C-list celebrity.

Internet is different. I can just block the bad eyes and move on with my life, you should see my block list now that some people are connecting my name to the girl who flipped off the press, thank god Twitter has a fuckin block feature.

You should really just meet my family so you don’t have to run away before they get home, would probably cause you a lot less financial stress, Y/N.

I’ll think about it.

You should think a little harder about it. I don’t want you to get your car impounded ‘cause you’re seeing me, why did you even park in pay-to-park?

Did you not see the massive mob trying to get to you? It was impossible for me to even try to pull into the driveway. Hence why I’m being insulted, you know, ‘cause I yelled at the press to get them to leave me alone. I fucking hate the press, you’re stabbed, severely injured last time they got information, and they’re harassing me, asking me what I like to do on the weekends.

Fucking vultures. Yeah, I’ve seen that. I’ve read the articles. But that’s the press for you, absolute trash and spitting bullshit in everyway.

Fucking hate the press, that’s for damn sure. Despise them. I won’t ever change that, even if, knock on wood, we break up.

Praying we don’t break up so I can see you lose your shit at the press when you’re bored.

She would get up to go make some coffee, since it was closer to 7:20am and if her roommate woke up, she could just tell her to get up anyway.

The press can suck my dick. she said.

You have a dick?

Oh yeah. Massive. 20ft long. It probably won’t even fit all the vultures.

Oh my god, that’s not as big as mine.

lmfao is it now?

Oh yeah.

Nice.

Anyway, my brothers are staying home from school today,  I think they’re making me play Resident Evil 8 with them? You know that game?

Of course. Everyone in that game is infinitely hot.

Are you bi? 

I don’t know. Haven't thought that far ahead to actually label myself. I just like people. Sometimes it’s men, sometimes it’s women. But you have to agree when you see them all. That game came out when I was still in  high school, so I’ve played the entire thing. My phone background is actually one of the characters.

Which one?

I’ll show you if I come over tonight.

My brothers might be in my room, though.

Okay, but, RE8 is an amazing game. So, worth it.

You won’t meet them normally but I pull out a game you love and you’re down?

I’m very easy to convince.

You still have notes to write when you come over though.

Oh yeah, I was probably going to have to come over both ways, just because I need those notes and you do too.

Do you not own a printer?

I barely even own a laptop, I’m waiting for my old one to come in the mail. 

How do you even manage?

With a whole lot of will and spite, anything is possible.

And that’s when her discord group chat @’ed her. She was on Do Not Disturb because she was Jason, and apparently they missed her.

Y/N! C’mere. One said.

Yes? Whatduhya want nerds?

We’ve decided to hold a fake internet wedding between you and Christopher. Another said.

A what.

We’re getting married!

Sometimes I wish I never left Metropolis and then I remember you fucks live there. Why are we doing this? You do know I have a boyfriend right? She asked them.

I don’t know, we’re bored and we miss you. We can have a bachelorette party in Gotham, if you want.

I’m this close to going back on DND.

The group chat was made way back when they had all first met in grade 9 and had been active ever since. They all had stayed in the city when they graduated though, but since Y/N received a scholarship, fully paid for, she took the opportunity and jumped.

They were some of her closest friends, even if they lived in a different city to her now, even if they were all busy with school, even if she was busy with school and a boyfriend, A lot of her life wouldn’t be complete without her crack friends in her hometown.

They had all ben partying like crazy while she was gone, and if she wasn’t so hung up in her own life, she’d probably be down there with them. 

Before you do, can you please explain why you’re screaming at the press, lmao.

Because fuck the press, dude. Why else? 

What did they do to you?

Have you seen the recent articles?

That’s true.

She laughed and finished her coffee. Jason had not responded yet, she assumed his brothers were either checking on him or they had started the game. It was around 8am when A/N finally left her room.

“I thought you were staying with Jason?”

“I was, but then I remembered he has like 9 siblings and I’m not about to meet them all. Then I walked home.”

“You walked?”

“Car got towed.”

“Fuck, can you afford the bill? I can’t.”

“Nope.”

“Guess we’re going to take the subway for a while, huh.”

She sighed and put her cup in the sink, “At least you don’t have school to go to and your lover comes to meet you, I have shit to do and places to be,” she frowned, “Inconvenient.”

“Could you borrow money from Jason’s dad?”

“I don’t borrow money from family, it’s hard enough for me to accept the money my parents send me.”

“I know it is, when’s your class?”

“3pm, I’ll be leaving at 12pm though, because the subway is unreliable.”

“This is going to be a hard hit for us.”

“Well, it’s not like it’s fucking your credit. Mine’s tanking.”

“You’ll pull through it.”

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

She got onto the subway at 12:30pm. She really hated the way it was running. The people, the faces, the staring eyes of unwanted attention. People knew who she was and she hated it. She didn’t like the attention, she just liked the fucking with people. She wanted to get off the subway the minute she got on.

She eventually couldn’t take it and got off a few stops away, there was still a substantial walk towards the college, but she knew it would be. She even brought a leather jacket with her so that she could walk if she couldn’t take it anymore.

And there she was, in the busy streets of Gotham, walking to her college. Barely aware of the people who did stare at her, because she just kept walking, lost in her thought but aware of the people in her trail, the cross walks and the lights she was waiting for occasionally. She just kept walking until Artemis met up with her,

“Hey! I didn’t know you were walking to school today,” Artemis said.

“Oh! I didn’t want to, my car got towed though.”

“Your car got towed? That sucks so much. Well, we’re going the same way, so I’ve decided I’m going to walk with you, you get no say.”

“Of course. I was going to ask if you wanted to,” she laughed, “It’s more fun with a friend anyway, Art.”

“So, how are things with you and Jason, I’m legally obliged to ask as one of his friends.”

“Well, we made it official if that’s the kind of thing you want to hear,” she laughed again, “I’m sure it’s the answer Dick will eat up.”

“You’re right about that one. Dick’s a sucker for a romantic story, you should write one, since you write. He’d probably read it all.”

“Well, that would be fun, but I still don’t have my laptop.”

“You could use Jason’s?” Artemis suggested..

“Nah. It’ll be fine,” she said, “I’ll manage.”

“Aren’t you collecting notes for him for your psychology class?”

“I am, it’s not like he can go anywhere. I actually told him he’d need to walk eventually so that it’s not a learning curve when he’s healed.”

“That’s what all of us are telling him too, he’s a stubborn man, good luck with that one,” Artemis laughed, “He’s always been the stubborn friend. Worse than Will, actually, and Will is really bad with being stubborn.”

“It’s fine,” she laughed, “If you asked any of my Metropolis friends they’d say the same about me.”

“I bet you were quite the wild child in your heyday back in your city,” Artemis laughed, “I hate Metropolis.”

“Who doesn’t? It’s so crowded.”

“Uh, Clark doesn’t. He thrives there, no idea why, he grew up in Smallville. If anyone should be uncomfortable with Metropolis it should be the small-city country boy, but I guess it’s his thing.”

“I forget you know everyone.”

“We know a lot of people, are you’re slowly being let into our massive circle of very well-known people. Welcome to the group, I guess,” she laughed, “You'll either hate or love the fame that comes from this.”

“Well, if its paparazzi and press, I think I’ll hate it.”

“I can promise you right now that it’s not all paparazzi and press, we haven’t been bothered today, probably because we are on the move.”

“You shouldn’t say that, you’ll jinx it.”

“I know a lot about not jinxing it, but that’s a story for another time,” Y/N noticed that when Artemis said this her eyes glazed over and she looked upset.

“You don’t ever have to talk to me about something you’re not ready to talk about,” Y/N reassured her.

“Hey, the trauma makes me funny.”

“Two can play that game.”

They would ramble on for the rest of the walk to their college. Nothing really of substance, just getting to know each other further. She was glad she found a friend in Artemis, it would have sucked if the two of them didn’t get along, but with each word they exchanged, they had so much fun.

She even told Artemis about that time she played Katherine Howard in her school’s budget play of Six - The Musical. She was proud of the riffs she was able to do, but she didn’t talk about it often. She was never the type of brag about her achievements, no matter how amazing they were.

But Artemis and Y/N parted ways and Y/N went to her class and wrote the same, boring, scribbly and barely legible notes. She figured eventually she’d need nicer handwriting, but did she want to work on it? No.

When she finished, she saw Artemis and who she could only assume to be Wally, at Artemis’ class doors. She waved to Artemis, before Artemis called her over.

“Y/N! Hey, I would ask how class is, but this is Wally,” she gestured to the red-head boy beside her, and Y/N held out her hand to shake Wally’s.

“Hi, Wally.”

“Y/N. It’s nice to meet you since Jason can’t shut up about you and my girlfriend likes you a lot.”

“Well that's sweet of you Artemis. You’re just so in love with me,” Y/N joked.

“Girl. You know it,” Artemis joked back.

“You two already have a close bond? That’s impressive,” Wally said, “Never seen anyone win over any of my friends this quickly,” he muttered.

They joked for a little while longer, just getting to know Wally before she had to go, she had to get to Jason’s.

The walk was a while away, so she went and sat on a park bench for a minute to check her phone, Jason had texted her.

Hey baby, are you coming over?

I am, yes. I actually just met Wally.

You met Wally and I wasn’t there to see it? C’mon.

Artemis introduced us! Go yell at her.

Oh. Never mind. I won’t do that.

Ha! Scared of her?

Maybe a little, she can be scary, okay?

You can’t tell but I’m laughing at you.

Dhmu.

That’s fine, I’ll just go hang out with Alfred and not you. He seems like he would be spiteful like me.

That’s unfair.

I thought you said don’t hit me up?

Fuck.

Checkmate.

I am upset.

No you’re not.

No I’m not.

She would walk down the street further, maybe within a couple steps to reach the Manor, when a man dragged her into an alleyway. She yelped.

“Uh, hello? Can I help you?” she asked, pretending she wasn’t terrified.

“How much would Bruce give me for you?” the attacker mumbled before he tried to knock her to the ground, but she had another plan.

He grabbed her, put his face close to hers, and she head-butted him, he would stumble back, and she started running to the Manor.

“Come here you fucking bitch!” he screamed. She could feel her nose bleeding as she ran and ran, the security saw her and pulled her into the gateway before drawing their guns and urging her to run to the steps of the Manor.

And she ran. The security at the door saw her and let her in, and yelled for Alfred.

“What is this nonsense, oh,” Alfred paused when he saw the blood running out of Y/N’s nose, “Miss Y/N, what happened to you?” he asked before grabbing her hand and pulling her into the entry-way bathroom and opening a first-aid kit.

“Okay so, what happened was I was walking to the Manor because my car got towed right? And this fucking bastard dude pops out from an alleyway and pulls me into it, asks some bullshit about how much Bruce would pay for me, when he grabbed me and tried to knock me down, when I head-butted him and started running,” she said, completely unphased.

Alfred didn’t respond to her and started to stop the bleeding when Bruce called for him, “In the entry-way bathroom, Master Wayne!” he answered.

Bruce came around the corner and saw Alfred was already tending to Y/N, “Well, this is the event where I meet my son’s girlfriend, when she is bleeding and running from a strange man in an alleyway.”

“Heh, sorry,” she said and outstretched her hand to shake his, “It’s nice to finally meet you, Bruce.”

“I can tell you’re going to be quite the addition to this household,” he said as he took her hand and shook it, “As long as you’re okay.”

“I’m okay.”

“That’s good. I guess you can’t get mad at Jase for being a reckless man now.”

“I really can’t.”

“Alright, you should be good, Miss Y/N.”

“Thank you, Alfred. But you really didn’t have to.”

“I’ve been taking care of 5 boys and 3 girls since most of them were little, Miss Y/N. A little blood is really no big deal for me to handle.”

“That’s obvious.”

“You can go see the boys now, they’re going to ask you though,” Bruce said.

“I know.”

She walked to Jason’s room, hoping that he wouldn’t have all of his siblings in the room, he did though.

“Hey, Y/N- what the fuck happened to you?” Jason exclaimed when she opened the door.

“Oh great, all your siblings are here. Anyway, I guess,” she paused, taking in a big breath so she could run through the events quickly, “So I was walking here ‘cause my car got towed, right? When some fucking bastard man grabs me and yanks me into an alleyway and starts going off about how much Bruce will pay him to get me back or something,” she paused again, “And when he tried to knock me down by getting really close and personal to my face, like an idiot I should add, I head-butted him.”

“You did what?’

“I’m not done yet, met your dad when I actually had blood running out of my nose because that's just my fucking luck. Okay, now you can be disappointed in me,” she joked.

“I will say again, you did what?”

“Something stupid?” she said.

“You could say that again, my god, what went through your head?”

“Uh, nothing. Just survival. Fight or flight but I head-butted a man, and hi, everyone.”

“Hi, Y/N, I’m Dick,” Dick said, “You clearly are meant for Jason,” he joked, “That's something he would do.”

“Don’t encourage her, Dick!”

Stephanie got up and greeted her, “You know, Y/N, I always wanted a crazy sister,” she joked, “I’m Stephanie, the black-haired girl is Cass, and the red-head is Barbara.”

“Me too,” Cass hopped onto the joke.

“It’s something else when you meet the girl your brother is dating after she head-butted a man, apparently,” Y/N laughed, “I know it’s far-fetched-”

“Not really,” Tim cut her off, “You know Jason protected Will when they were attacked?”

“That’s Tim, by the way,” Dick said.

“So you can’t yell at me for head-butting a man!” Y/N joked at Jason while going to sit beside him, he slinged an arm around her shoulder and leant his head into her head.

“Well, you seem like a nice enough girl,” Barbara said, “Take away the reckless behavior, and you are lovely.”

“That is valid, to be honest. Not exactly the way you want to meet your brother’s girlfriend.”

“You think?” Jason asked, sarcastically.

“Ha ha.”

“See, she thinks I’m funny, why can’t you fucks?”

Y/N laughed and then asked Dick, who was playing RE8 at the time, staring at the photo of Donna Bentiveno, “She’s cute, isn’t she, Dick?”

“Have I been staring?”

“Let’s just say Angie is probably very pissed at you.”

“Oh! Whoops. There’s a point to this, I forgot.”

“I don’t blame you, I remember forgetting there was a point and the little bitch devil doll would attack you.”

“Language.”

“Oh no, you’re lame. Gross.”

“Excuse me?” Dick asked as the rest of the room erupted in laughter.

“Do you guys see why I like her now?” Jason asked.

“Uh no, she’s mean,” Dick said.

“You’re going to die if you don’t start paying attention, Dick,” Y/N said.

“Oh!” and he died.

“And that kids, is why we listen to the person who’s 100%’ed the game.”

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

Y/N and Jason would spend hours with his brothers and sisters until the sun started to set and they all scattered to their own rooms to  do their own things. you can’t keep a lot of kids in one room for so long.

Once everyone left, Y/N placed her hands on Jason and kissed him, she was actually able to be laid on his pillow, he was able to pin her to the bed. And they did just that. He was on top of her, using his one arm to prop himself up and using his other hand to touch her face.

Her hands found their way into his hair like they always did, she found a lot of joy in playing with his hair. Their tongues danced together, they never fought or anything, they just enjoyed each other when Jason let out a small moan and she let out a small laugh.

“Keep it in your pants, Tiger,” she joked, “You’re not fully healed.”

“You literally smashed your face into another man but I can’t moan when I kiss you?”

“Because I know you want more.”

“Hell yeah I do,” he said as he went back for more, actually using his strength to keep her to the bed, but she didn’t protest this time.

[apiratewhopines]

Thanks to @teamhook for the artwork! So fancy!

Midnight

Chapter 4 — The Ball

Summary: In which our heroine feels exposed

Chapter 4 of 7 on AO3

“Some day, when I’m awfully low

When the world is cold

I will feel a glow just thinking of you”

-The Way You Look Tonight, Fred Astaire

Having spent several days eating her way through Misthaven with one eye on the lookout for black sedans, Emma was glad to be heading away from the town and the emotional memories the sight of a pub or gas station would cause. She wasn’t sure why one innocent night with Killian Jones continued to dominate her thoughts and hijack her dreams, but she feared seeing him again would push her over the edge.

That didn’t keep her from wanting to though.

On some level, she knew he had probably already forgotten her. Perhaps he did before the night was even over. Some other passenger might be walking around his place now, wearing his shirts and eating his pancakes.

Because when she dreamed about Door Number One, they always had pancakes for breakfast.

Despite her stubborn heart’s refusal to cooperate, the last couple of days had not been wasted. Arthur turned out to be a man of his word. Like a crazy fairy godmother who sprinkled cold hard cash instead of pixie dust and magic, he kept her supplied in the finest clothes and the chicest accessories. At the same time, he made sure her social calendar buzzed with invitations from a who’s who of Misthaven’s finest and wealthiest families. Events that inevitably threw her together with Lance more often than not.

It was at a garden soirée the previous day Lance had pressed to drive her out to Camelot, Arthur’s sprawling estate just a couple of hours away. Figuring the sooner she got the weekend over with, the better, she remained elusive only long enough to be convincing and then accepted his offer.

She already figured out Lancelot du Lac was a man who enjoyed the chase. She also discovered underneath his rakish exterior was someone who desperately wanted to find love while at the same time being deathly afraid of it. Normally, Emma wasn’t one to psychoanalyze. Still, the funny thing about rich people’s parties was that they were actually very dull, and she had nothing to do but regret not kissing the Captain before they parted ways or come up with profiles on the personalities she encountered.

Psychoanalysis seemed like the safer option.

Now she was waiting in the lobby of the Ritz for Lance’s foreign sports car to arrive so she could finally shake the dirt of this town off her feet. She hoped she could shake the lingering sadness as well. It was doing things to her. Things like making her hear the Captain’s voice in crowds.

“Swan! Swan! Emma, if you don’t turn around this instant—“

Excitement and abject horror battled for supremacy when she realized it wasn’t her mind playing tricks on her. As if in slow motion, she turned in the direction of his voice and her eyes met his across the vast space. Then she watched as Killian Jones began to sprint toward her, pushing people out of his way none too gently while managing not to crease his startlingly posh blue suit. This wasn’t the flirty Uber driver of a few nights ago, all leather and innuendo. Sure he had the same sex hair and twinkling blue eyes, but this man exuded power and authority and, quite frankly, looked more than a little pissed as he closed the distance between them with frightening speed.

Unaware of the drama playing out, one of the valets rushed to her and announced breathlessly, “Baroness, your ride has arrived.”

“I… I’ll be right there.”

Emma couldn’t break eye contact with him. His face was just as she remembered it, as it should since it was less than a week ago when she last saw him. He had dark circles under his eyes and looked frantic to get to her. He seemed to know she was contemplating an escape and he paused briefly, not caring who heard him when he called across the remaining ground between them, “So help me, Swan, if you run again, I swear I will—“

She didn’t hear the rest of what he said as a herd of visitors passed between them chattering loudly in some foreign language, the group taking photos of the architecture and potted plants as if they were worthy of remembrance. She had a brief opportunity to step out unseen under cover of the mob separating them. To forever give this man who haunted her the slip.

Or she could stay.

God, did she want to stay.

—

The estate was as lovely as one would expect. Ancient oak trees lined the drive and gave way to topiaries precisely cut into fantastical shapes as the car approached the main house. Lance regaled her with tales of the vast land Arthur inherited, the numerous homes on the property, and the complete absence of any cell or internet services once you crossed the boundary.

It seemed old man Soberano convinced himself the emerging technologies were a way for the government to spy on people and had forbidden, by way of his last will and testament, any cell towers or fiber lines from ever crossing the property. It was why as coveted as an acquaintance with the family was, people often grumbled when they received an invitation to the country estate rather than one of the other properties throughout the globe. The ancient landline phones served as the communication system for the large estate and the only connection to the outside world.

Of course, most of his ramblings went in one ear and out the other because she was too busy wondering why Killian had been at the Ritz in a suit that looked like it was made for him. She would know. After all, she was now in possession of a wardrobe filled with custom pieces and carefully tailored lines.

Was it a fluke encounter or was he still searching for her? He would give new meaning to the phrase ‘no stone left unturned’ if his sole reason for coming to the premier hotel in town was to look for the broke woman he gambled on and lost. Literally.

“Darling, I feel like you haven’t heard a word I said the whole journey,” Lance gently complained as he helped her out of the low seats of the car and up the grand stairs leading to the front door. He appeared genuinely distressed at her distance, and for the first time, she felt a twinge of guilt for the ridiculous game she was playing.

“I’m sorry. I had some bad news right before we left, and I’m a bit distracted,” she explained, allowing Lance to take her hand as they approached the Soberanos who were waiting for them in the foyer. Their linked hands did not go unnoticed by either of their hosts, although to widely different responses.

Learning she was at the opposite end of the mansion from Lance, the group moved to the second floor together. The servant leading them turned to Lance and said helpfully, “Good news, Mr. du Lac, we found the cuff link you lost on your last visit. It was in Madam Soberano’s sitting room.”

Sheepishly, he looked to Emma as if ready to offer an excuse. Unable to keep a chuckle from escaping at the crazy situation, she patted his arm and said, “The wind must have blown it in.”

With that, the group separated. Arthur replaced Lance at her arm and smiled indulgently at his protege. “You’re quite good. You have him eating out of your hand, and you’re not even trying.”

“I’ve met his type before. The less I try, the more he will. He’ll be begging me to divorce my husband and proposing before the end of the night at this rate,” she joked.

“You don’t know Lancelot du Lac,” Arthur argued. Their leisurely stroll through the second-floor gallery allowed her to see pictures of his ancestors back to the Norman invasion, but she noted there was none of him or his beloved wife who he was fighting so hard to keep.

“Well, you don’t know Emma Swan. He tried to give me an emerald the size of a baby’s fist today.” She had been tempted to pocket the jewel, but some small part of her knew what she was doing was wrong and robbing the man blind when she had no intention of ever returning his affections wouldn’t make it any better.

“Excellent! I won’t even deduct it from your pay if you promise to take him for all he’s worth and break his heart, dear. It will do him some good.”

“How are you still friends with him? Knowing what he’s doing with your wife. I can’t figure out if you’re the most understanding man in the world or absolutely crazy.”

Sighing, he sat down on one of the numerous benches that lined the gallery floor and patted the seat beside him. Emma didn’t know precisely how or when it happened, but he had become almost a friend after the deal was struck. She spent as much time with him as she did Lance and, despite the fact she thought he was extremely odd, she had grown fond of him. “Because I think he was trying to make her happy at first. I told you she wasn’t the only one to make mistakes. This whole thing is my fault. It was my foolish pursuit of wealth that drove her to this, endlessly trying to carve my name into the family tomes as one of the best empire builders in the dynasty. If I had been there for her, if I had just listened when she tried to tell me what she needed…well, we wouldn’t be here having this conversation.”

“I hope for your sake this works.”

“And I hope for your sake, the next time a man tries to give you an emerald, you keep it.”

“How do you know I didn’t keep it?”

“Because I think I’m starting to know Emma Swan,” he explained with a wink and smile before pulling her up and taking her to the east wing. Dropping her off at her room, he teased, “Get some rest, dear. Cinderella needs to be at her best for the ball.”

With a sardonic grin, she countered, “Hard to be at your best when you know every Cinderella has her midnight.”

Hours later, after a nap and a fortifying drink, she shrugged into her form-fitting green dress like it was battle armor. She was joking earlier when she said a proposal would be forthcoming, but she had no doubt Lance would make a proposition of some kind. The trick would be to keep him on the line without actually following through with anything.

She left her room as late as possible to avoid spending too much time around the pampered elite who were her housemates that weekend. While she had met a fair few during her crash course in Misthaven society, Arthur was the only one she didn’t mind having a conversation with, but he was unlikely to abandon Guin’s side to keep her company. Especially since it would put a damper on Lance’s pursuit.

Her destination was the expansive, three-tiered back deck, illuminated by thousands of clear fairy lights and a fair number of fireflies, the faint breeze carrying the briny smell of the ocean that lay only a few feet beyond their well-tended lawn. The men in tuxedos added a dashing contrast to their partners’ colorful evening gowns and cocktail dresses. A string quartet was playing off to the side; the beautiful melody drifted through the party in a way that enhanced the romantic atmosphere to a point it made her hurt.

She was surprised to see Arthur standing alone through the wall of windows. She stopped to take in the scene, complete with busy waitstaff and tables of food.

She couldn’t wait to get away.

“Alright, Guinevere, you want to talk, let’s talk. I have a few serious words to say.”

Silently moving until the curtains partially hid her, Emma watched as Lance and Guinevere made their way toward the patio. Guinevere’s eyes were red and she was fretting with a handkerchief gripped tightly between her hands. “As if you had two serious words in your whole vocabulary, Lance.”

“I could make a very noble speech. Tell you we were just two ships passing in the night, but the truth is, Arthur is my friend. I don’t want to break up a happy marriage. We’ve been playing with fire, but it’s better to end this now before someone gets hurt.”

“Funny how none of that mattered until the baroness showed up. I know you think you are in love with her. I can see it in your face every time she is around. You’re behaving like a schoolboy. You’re a darling, but you need to be careful. We don’t know anything about her. All we have is her word that she is who she says she is. I’ve asked around; no one has ever heard of her. Maybe her hair is dyed, and maybe she’s poisoned three husbands. Sidney told me there was some man calling her a swan and chasing her at her hotel today. It had all the staff talking.”

“You’re jealous, Guin.”

“Terribly. Fun, isn’t it?” The woman rushed from the room, tears flowing freely now. Emma didn’t move from her hiding place, instead waiting until he had joined the party before she followed in his footsteps.

��

As she predicted, Lance made sure he was her partner for most of the night. She followed Guin’s movements with alarm, knowing the woman was on edge and fearful of what she may do if she felt she had nothing to lose. Her glance met Arthur’s when she saw his wife and Sidney go inside, heads close together and a look of shock crossing Guin’s face. The other man nodded at her and trailed after them at a distance.

She wasn’t sure what possessed her to let Lance lead her away from the party into the formal gardens spreading north of the patio. Perhaps she was tired of having to put a fake smile on her face, or maybe she was simply tired.

He kept a steady stream of conversation going, mostly unanswered on her side, and navigated them down an old stone path to a large fountain surrounded by benches and meticulously pruned rose bushes. “Please don’t interrupt, dear, but suppose we were to follow this path all the way to the garage and take my car for a ride through the countryside.”

“Oh, the make-believe game! It’s always been one of my favorites. But why stop at the countryside, Lance? Why not go on a tour of the moon while we’re at it?”

“I asked you not to interrupt,” he teased, pulling her arm through his and continuing to amble further away from the house. “You see, this isn’t some random trip. We have a particular place we are heading. A little estate by the lake where an opinionated old dame lives. It’s twenty ’til midnight. If we leave now, we can make it as dawn is breaking.”

Intrigued despite herself, she asked, “And what business would we have at this chateau by the lake?”

“I want you to meet my mother. To introduce you to her and tell her that I’ve met the one. Then the pale light of dawn will shine on the first day of our lives together.”

He was serious, and she felt like the lowest of human beings when she joked back, “I doubt the day will be the only thing breaking when that bombshell drops. Were we going to share the news with my husband before or after our visit?”

Before he could respond, Arthur called out from behind them on the path, “Baroness Jones, I believe you promised me a dance.”

He reached them seconds later with a pointed look at her. Although he was the picture of sophistication, she could tell by his quick pace something had happened. “A midnight dance as I remember.”

“Of course, please excuse me,” she murmured to Lance, who looked like he was about to protest as she took Arthur’s arm and allowed him to guide her back to the house. Keeping a calm expression on her face, she smiled and nodded to the people they passed and waited until they were out of earshot to ask, “What’s happened?”

“It’s midnight, dear. The ground has opened under our feet. That horrible friend of Guin’s, Sidney, did some digging and found out there is no Baroness Jones. They plan to make an announcement any moment now. I’m sorry I brought you into this mess, Emma.”

They reached the dance floor Arthur installed on the deck specifically for the party, but neither felt like dancing. Instead, they hovered along the back wall and waited for the troublesome pair to return from their scheming.

Sighing, she nudged his shoulder. “It was bound to happen sooner or later. We never really stood a chance at this working.”

“But we were so close. I could feel Guin changing, turning back to me. Now I may as well help her pack her bags,” he replied, grabbing two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and handing one off to her. Clicking his glass against hers in a mock toast, he muttered, “Here’s to wasted years and endless torment.”

He downed the entire glass and, when she only took a sip, he reached out and downed hers as well.

She wasn’t sure what he had to be upset about. She was the one who was going to be exposed as a charlatan, forced to exit under the judgmental gazes of a house full of people who would dine on the story for months to come. Just as she was about to point out it could be worse, she saw Guin descend the stairs with Sidney hot on her heels. “Here we go.”

“I’ll stand by you as best I can,” Arthur promised, his hand coming to rest in the small of her back as if to provide some physical barrier against what was about to happen.

“Ladies and gentleman, may I have a moment of your time? As you know, Arthur and I pride ourselves on providing the best of entertainment at our parties, and I think you’ll find tonight’s will not disappoint. I have a story to share that I think will delight and amuse you. Under our roof tonight, we have a guest claiming one of the oldest names in European aristocracy.”

A murmur started in the crowd, musicians laying down their instruments, even the waitstaff and caterers ceased what they were doing. It seemed as if the entire universe held its breath waiting for Guin to continue. She could tell the woman enjoyed every moment of it.

“I don’t know how many of you are familiar with the heraldry of Cambridge nobility, but let me assure you that in all of England, there is no—“

From the patio entrance, the footman interrupted in a booming voice to announce the arrival of a late guest of note. “Baron Killian Jones.”

Emma had to grab Arthur’s arm to keep from falling when her knees buckled. In the soft light, the Captain looked like a fantasy. His dark hair mussed in a way that looked intentional, but she knew it resulted from repeatedly running his hand through it when he was frustrated. He was outfitted in a tuxedo, the crisp white shirt making his stubble seem even more dangerous in the moonlight. He surveyed the crowd looking for her, supremely unconcerned he had the attention of the entire party.

Arthur looked at the mysterious stranger and then took in her aghast expression and whispered, “Do you know him?”

At that moment, Killian’s eyes met hers and the heat she saw there made it difficult to think, much less speak. “Yes. Yes, I know him.”

“Right. All hope isn’t lost then,” Arthur said with forced cheerfulness as he disengaged her death grip on his arm and went to greet their visitor. In a loud voice, so nobody would have to strain to hear, he said, “Welcome to my home, my dear Baron. It’s been a long time since we’ve met.”

Despite the fact the men had never laid eyes on each other before, Emma observed the Captain as he quickly assessed the lay of the land and responded, “Yes, years and years. I hope you don’t mind me trespassing on your hospitality. I only just arrived in town and the hotel staff informed me my wife was spending the weekend here. I couldn’t wait to see her.”

“With such a charming companion, no one blames you,” Guinevere said smoothly, giving Sidney a look meant to quell any further talk and rushing to meet their newest arrival. “She’s kept us all so diverted this past week.”

Giving the woman a slight grin, he nodded. “I’m sure. She’s nothing if not diverting.”

Moving away from the Soberanos, he took the stairs two at a time until he was standing in front of her, mouth twisted in amusement and eyes on fire. He seemed to drink in the sight of her from the artless way the curls were falling down her back to how her hand was white-knuckled from holding on to a nearby chair.

“You found me.” Somehow her words sounded like both an accusation and a thank you. Her eyes searched his face for some clue as to why he was there.

“Did you ever doubt I would?”

Before anything else could be said, he pulled her into his arms and crushed his lips to hers. Plundering her mouth, not caring they had an audience numbering in the hundreds, he shifted his grip, one hand making its way to her hair and cradling the back of her head. The other drifted lower, moving her body until it pressed against the long length of his. The thin fabric of her dress allowed the heat of him to soak through to her skin which suddenly felt tight and she was desperate for more contact.

She leaned into him, allowing her hands finally to comb through the hair that had haunted her dreams. The silky strands provided a contrast to the rough drag of his facial scruff against her cheek, the feeling of him in her arms doing exactly what she wanted almost pushing her into sensory overload. She didn’t think, who could when faced with such an onslaught, her body moving on instinct. She moaned into his mouth, tongues tangling and tasting of champagne and need.

A throat cleared in the distance and reality came crashing back. Reluctantly, Killian pulled back, resting his forehead against hers and breathing unevenly.

With quiet wonder, she asked, “What are you doing here?”

“I was hungry to see my little wife.”

@teamhook @kmomof4 @jrob64 @stahlop @motherkatereloyshipper @xarandomdreamx @xsajx @klynn-stormz

[warmau]

☆ [nostalgic] summer romance!au taeyong  hbbd to our beloved leader! | find others here: johnny | haechan | taeil

mark is giving you a quizzical look from over the counter, fingers tapping against the register

“taeyong? no, i haven’t seen him. doesn’t he usually disappear during the summer?

mark is right

taeyong does tend to vanish just as the weather gets warmer and there isn’t an excuse of class or work for him to make his presence known

you heard rumors about how his parents send him abroad to some kind of family owned estate, vast and beautiful and far away from the mundane place you call home

everyone is always saying he’s hiding something. that something, everyone whispers is money 

he has to be rich, no one else has the kind of luxury of having a summer long holiday to the other side of the world

but you doubt it, if his family is so loaded, taeyong wouldn’t be spending the rest of the year sitting across from you in physics 

you’re sure wealthy kids can afford something better than public schools

“actually......”

you look up and mark takes of the uniform hat he’s supposed to wear for his job at the local burger joint, he scratches the top of his head and then snaps his fingers

“i did see him not too long ago, maybe - on monday? he was standing next to his bike in front of the trails.”

“as in the forest trails?”

mark nods, he looks like he wants to say something else but the voice of his manager makes him scurry to the back with a final a wave

you take the medium soda you ordered, the ice melted and the cup wet under your fingertips

whats taeyong doing going to the mountains all alone?

its getting dark by the time you make your way halfway through the trail, you know mark said he saw taeyong monday and its been three days since then

but you just wanted to make sure, even though you’re here and you haven’t seen one other person through the trees 

finally you think you should turn around and go back - but you look to the side and spot a bike leaned up against a mossy, large boulder

its off the trail - so its kind of creepy - but you inch just a bit closer, close enough to see taeyongs name scribbled on the middle bar, below the seat

the clouds are slowly and surely coming in over the light blue sky, so now its just going to get dark and rain

but you think just exploring for another five or so minutes cant hurt

you push past some bushes and wander until you finally pull back some branches from a sagging old willow and see the entrance to a small, but open meadow

in the middle of it - someone is splayed out and reaching up toward the sun

“t-taeyong?”

his hand drops and turns his head, the last droplets of sunlight flicker off his skin

he doesn’t say anything for a while and neither do you

until he sits up and asks you what you’re doing off the trail

you know you can ask him the same thing, but something stops you from stringing the sentence together

instead you feel the darker clouds grow heavy in the sky and soon enough you feel the drizzle

“i just got lost’

you lie and taeyong stands up from the meadow, pointing behind you

“we should go before the storm comes all the way in.”

taeyong leads the way back to the main path, grabbing his bike as you two make way back down to the opening of the forest

you sort of fall behind him, eyes on the broad of his back 

you want to make conversation - but you dont know what to say

once you reach the end, the rain has gotten stronger and you ask taeyong if he wants you to drive him back to his place

motioning shyly to your car

he smiles, and even through the darkening weather, it seems to make his face glow

“that’s alright, thanks.”

and then he hops on his bike, his figure smaller and smaller as he rides down the road

you watch it, getting drenched in the process, but something about seeing him makes the rain feel like nothing more than morning dew

you go back to the meadow the next day, earlier - closer to noon - and taeyong is there

at first you tell yourself: stop being weird, just turn around and leave him alone. you might have had classes with him but its not like you two were even friends! hes going to think you’re crazy for showing up here again!

but something inside you refuses to let you give up

you clear your throat and call out to him

taeyong doesn’t turn his head this time, in fact he doesn’t move from where he’s flat on his back in the middle of the grass and wild flowers

panic sets over you and you rush over, knees hitting the ground as you hover over him

his eyes are closed, but the corner of his mouth twitches a bit at the small sound that you make

he’s just sleeping.

you realize, tracing the godly lines that make up his almost impossibly handsome face

he manages to look magical even like this.

“hello?”

taeyong’s eyes are open now - lazily, amber browns staring up at you curiously

you jerk your head away and feel your shoulders stiffen

what do i say? what do i do? he must think im such a freak-

“are you lost again?”

his sits up, propping himself on his elbows and looking at you innocently

“n-no! i just - i um - since i know the way now. i mean i saw your bike again. i just - um-”

the words get tangled in your mouth and so you give up and taeyong doesn’t look as annoyed or as angry as you expect

he just smiles, the same smile he gave you when you two parted ways last night

“a-are you always here?”

you blurt out, trying to compensate for your lack of an answer to his original question

taeyong nods, “i am always here.”

“everyone thinks you go abroad during the summer, b-but you’re really here right?”

its weird that you pose it like a question, so you laugh it off in hopes he wont catch on

but taeyong turns his eyes back toward the sun and falls back against the pillow of flowers

“nope, i dont go abroad. im right here.”

you look up at the sky, nothing special about it, just bright and blinding like any summer days

you wonder how he doesnt get bored just ........... laying here and looking up at it 

“people in town like it though.”

he suddenly adds and you shift so instead of sitting back on your heels, you’re laying down beside him 

its the closest you’ve ever been to him and you have half a thought he might shift away uncomfortably when your elbows brush but ..... he doesnt

“like what?”

he pauses, a long pause and you almost think he isnt going to answer as your eyes trace the wings of a butterfly that pass by

“they like that i disappear. i think they like it better when im not around.”

you sit up, confused and look at taeyong

“but people are always talking about you-”

“right, but i dont think that means they like me.”

he follows the same butterfly you were just looking at and you try to think of a counterpoint to argue

but you cant

taeyong is the most talked about person in your town, from his statue like looks to the rumors circulating about his familys wealth

but

youve heard the jealousy-induced whispers too

you cant lie and say you havent

you carefully lay back down and take a second in the silence of the forest to think

“i like you.”

you hear taeyong turn his head but you’re nervous about saying it outloud and so you can’t bring yourself to read the expression he might be making

“i dont know much about you, but .......... i think i like you. we had one class together last semester, physics and you would always help me and other people. sometimes i wanted to ask if you wanted to come with me to go get lunch but i was-”

you’re rambling, your aware so you stop

but taeyong whispers,

“but you were?”

now you turn to look at him and you’re surprised to see the usual glassy far-off look in his eyes has turned serious

“i was sc-scared? i just thought you wouldnt care to ......... hang out with me?”

you think your palms are sweating and you hide them in your pockets, taeyong is looking at you - really looking at you - for the first time ever and it stirs a feeling youre not used to in the pit of your stomach

“i would have loved to.”

his voice is faint, but there’s no one else but you and him, so you hear him clearly

you giggle, a nervous habit, and then swallow it down

“well - now i know. ill invite you when- when the summer is over.”

he turns back and closes his eyes, the sun basks down on him like the grace of a goddess 

nothing else is said. when it starts to darken, and your hungry stomach makes a noise that keeps you embarrassed

you and taeyong walk back down the trail. you offer him a ride again, but he says now and rides off with a smile

you get into this habit now, you get to the meadow - earlier and earlier - hoping one day to beat taeyong to it

but he’s always there before you

you also start bringing lunch and when you first offer half of the sandwich you’ve made to taeyong he looks too shy to take it

but on the third try, he gives in

you also..................talk a lot more with him 

and realize you were right, taeyong is as kind as you had thought him to be

and his gentleness isnt lost on you from how he helps you up from the grassy meadow when its time to go - to how he talks in a small voice to forest creatures that scamper past you two

you never thought you’d end up spending your whole summer off the trail, laying around beside lee taeyong

but not a day of it feels wasted, even though you both do ultimately nothing

one evening, as you’re walking down the trail, you both come to a stop in front of the mossy rock that taeyong’s bike should be leaned up against

except that its gone

and for the first time - due to circumstance - taeyong accepts the ride back home

the car is quiet, as are the streets that you drive through to get to his house

suddenly, without any thought you ask taeyong;

“do you sometimes go up to the meadow because you want to disappear?”

you glance at him in the rearview mirror and see hes already looking at you

“not just because you think others want you too?”

his lips thin, but his eyes don’t flatter from yours

“yes.”

you nod, shoulders tightening a little as you focus your own gaze on the road

“a-are you ok with my company?”

you make a turn and are worried by the silence that follows. taeyong’s house is coming into view and you realize he could just get out without answering you

but when you come to a stop, neither of you moves a muscle

you let your hand drop from the wheel and just as it does, taeyong catches it

his fingers are warm and his palm is soft you let out a small gasp and turn to see he still has his eyes on you

“im fine with it.”

a dust of pink comes over the bridge of his nose and spreads down onto his cheeks

“im fine disappearing with you. no one said i had to do it alone.”

that feeling in the pit of your stomach that you get around him sometimes seems to bubble and burst into a flurry storm of wings and glitter inside you

your eyes move on their own, skimming down his face to his lips in an anxious line

holding his hand is different from all those times you’d lay elbow to elbow with him

and thinking about kissing him..................is a jump over a fence higher than just the thoughts youve had about getting to know him better

you think your shoulders shake and taeyong looks like he wants to lean in 

but the lights on his porch flicker on, and he says he’ll see you tomorrow

his warmth leaves your hand, but right as he steps out of the car, you scramble over to the passengers seat

one hand on the window and you look at him

“h-how will you get to the meadow, without your bike?”

he startles, but frowns

“right,i think i can walk ther-”

“i can pick you up.”

taeyong smiles, this smile - as soft and as sweet as the rest - is just a bit more......happy.

“ok - can you come by at around nine?”

“i promise to be here.”

he hesitates and you cant believe you’re about to say this, but you do

“want to seal it with a kiss?”

he looks over his shoulder, his front door hasnt opened yet

he leans down and its a little awkward and weird, but its cute and when you break away you wave goodnight to him 

and he trips over the sidewalk as he waves back

the next day, when you two are laying back in the flowers

you turn to him

“is it ok if we re-do our kiss?”

he laughs, “i wanted to ask too, kissing through a car window is a bit-”

you dont let him finish, rolling over to take his face in your own - you feel that smile of his on your lips

when summer comes to an end and taeyong shows back up in town, everyones gossip stirs back up

where’d he go this time, franc? italy? thailand? australia?

no, the only place he went - you want to tell them - is to the forest, and to that meadow, and to the center of your heart

you slip your hand into his when he comes to greet you outside one of the classroom 

and all of the gossip dies at the tip of peoples tongues

even now all these years later

when you and taeyong want to “disappear” for a little while

there’s a secret space, just for you two

let everyone else think you’re off in some other place - some other country - some other continent

disappearing together, is way better than disappearing alone. 

[trashmenofmarvel]

Branded - Chapter 29

Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky is back on Earth, summoned by a strange child.

(This is a fan AU of Falling’s Just Another Way to Fly by araniaart​ . Please check out this incredible series for all of your demon Bucky needs.)

AO3

It was cold.

Bucky was frozen, the air like a flash freeze over his skin. The warmth he’d been used to vanished as the portal closed behind him. It hurt to breathe, hurt to think. There were so many scents, overwhelming after the dry, dead air of the demon realm.

The noises pressed on his sensitive hearing: air conditions, cars driving in the distance, electric appliances and fixtures. He bent his head and covered his ears, whining, but it didn’t help.

He was accustomed to bright, endless daylight. That wasn’t the reason he squeezed his eyes shut. There’d only been one color in the world he’d escaped.

Now he was surrounded in greens and tans and blues and whites. He couldn’t see the sky; he was indoors, in a house. He couldn’t breathe. He scrambled for safety, the first spot of darkness he could find, under a twin bed. Bucky laid still, curled into a ball with his tail and wings shielding him as he trembled.

In contrast to the assault on his other senses, his sense of touch was cushioned by the carpet, so much softer than the stone floor of his cave. There wasn’t much left to his tac pants and vest, so he experienced the full effect against his skin.

Bucky nearly stretched out on it, marveling at the soft texture, but he went still. There was a second presence in the room. A pair of eyes staring at him hiding under the bed.

A human child. A girl. Couldn’t be more than ten years old.

Bucky curled himself inwards further, terrified, of what he didn’t know. Just that everything was too much and he couldn’t stop fucking shaking.

“Don’t be scared,” the little voice said. “I won’t hurt you.”

Bucky would have laughed if his abdominal muscles weren’t clenched like a vice. It was funny. Horrifying. Why wasn’t she running? Bucky hadn’t used his guise in a long time and he couldn’t summon it now, too overwhelmed to control his tenuous-grasp of magic. His wings and horns and claws were partially obscured by the shadows, but if anything, that should have made him appear more fearsome, not less.

“What’s your name?” she asked with a tilt of her head.

Bucky tried to speak but all that emerged was a choked whimper. He couldn’t even look at her he was trembling so badly. It was like a horrible withdrawal, or an adrenaline rush that wouldn’t stop. He half-wondered if he was dying, or maybe, this is what it felt like to come back to life.

“Here.”

He uncurled enough to look upwards. The girl was holding something out to him from where she knelt, peeking under the bed.

“Mr. Squiggles helps me when I’m scared,” she said with the bright confidence only a child could have. “Go on. Take him.”

Bucky stared at the stuffed animal. Its grey fur was worn, its dark eyes dull. Clearly well-loved and treasured.

He’d had a toy like that, once. A teddy bear with button eyes. He’d loved it so much, but then he and Becca had gotten sick. His parents had burned the toy, along with most of their clothing.

Even now, he could remember how upset he’d been, and how much a child’s toy meant. And this child, who’d just had a demon dropped into her bedroom, was offering it to him because he was scared.

Something surged in his chest. Gratefulness. Sorrow. A fierce protectiveness for this stupidly brave kid.

Bucky reached out to take the toy, claws shaking as he carefully wrapped his fingers around the tabby cat’s leg.

A strange sensation jolted up his arm, following by intense warmth at his shoulder, directly over his mark. And then it was gone.

“You must be hungry,” the girl whispered conspiratorially as Bucky tucked the toy against his chest. Apparently, she hadn’t noticed a thing. “I’ll get you something to eat! Stay here!”

She dashed from the room without waiting for an answer. Bucky planned to stay put, to come up with what he should do next, but at the words you must be hungry, a vast, devastating hunger hit him directly in the gut.

It wasn’t for food.

I need… I need to get out of here. His movements were panicked, clumsy as he crawled out from under the bed. I need to…

Before he could look for an escape the kid returned to the room, nearly smacking right into Bucky. He recoiled backwards away from her, putting space between them, but she only looked up in him in confusion. Then she smiled and held out the plate she carried, a sandwich perched on top. Peanut butter and blueberry jelly.

Saliva flooded his mouth as his stomach rumbled, but he dared not move any closer to her. The demon side of him had no interest in the kid, thank Christ for that, but he was still terrified of hurting her. He was designed to be a living weapon, after all. Not exactly child-friendly.

He just wished the kid would get the memo.

“Go on,” she said, smiling brightly. “Take it. I promised I wouldn’t hurt you.”

Hysterical laughter threatened to burst out of him. It was like a baby kitten trying to soothe and comfort a lion. Bucky towered over her, his wings and horns still on full display, but she just stared up at him with wonder and awe. No sense of self-preservation at all.

Figuring he would at least address one of his hungers, he took the plate from her as if it was a live grenade. Satisfied, she beamed up at him and then went to close her bedroom door.

“I don’t think my friends are coming back, they all ran away when that blue portal appeared. That’s what that was, right? And you’re a demon?”

Bucky choked on the first bite of sandwich he took.

“That’s what I thought.” She nodded sagely, the ribbons of her ridiculous pigtails flapping with the movement. “I told them I could do magic, but they didn’t believe me. Bet they will now!”

Her face fell a little as she looked past Bucky, and she mumbled, “Mom is definitely going to ground me.”

Bucky followed her gaze to the open closet doors. Extinguished black candles were scattered on the carpet surrounding what appeared to be a charred spirit board. But what really drew Bucky’s eye was the state of the closet door and the back of the closet itself: charred as if there had recently been a fire. He could still smell the stench of sulfur, and he shivered. He would not miss that place, that was for sure.

Quickly scarfing down the food—when had Bucky last had a good, ol’ fashioned PB&J?—he eyed the kid warily. She kept talking about magic and how her mother always blamed her for things catching on fire around the house, but it wasn’t her fault. On and on she went, as if she was talking to another human being and not a six-foot tall demon. She was way too damn calm for being face-to-face with the occult, but then again, she seemed like a weird kid to begin with.

He kept waiting for the voice to chime in with its opinion, but it had been silent since Bucky came through the portal. He frowned. It had promised it would be here, so where was it?

Bucky sighed and turned his attention back to the small chatterbox.

“What’s your name, kid?”

She told him, proudly and without hesitation. Definitely too trustworthy. What would have happened if it was one of those other demons that had gotten through?

He frowned further, troubled as he looked around her room. He couldn’t see anything suspicious, but the stink of other demons was still pungent to Bucky’s sensitive nose.

“Did you see anything else come through besides me?” he asked.

The kid finally lost some of her spunk as she looked down at the carpet, gripping her denim overalls tightly in her hands.

“Hey,” Bucky said, voice softer. “You’re not in trouble.”

It was strange, the more he talked to her the less anxious he was. Already he had stopped trembling and shaking, though his senses were still reeling from the influx of earthy smells and loudness of civilization.

She nodded slowly and looked past Bucky. He turned to see what she was looking at now, and this time it was her open window. They were on the second story, and it was dark outside.

“Lot of things, but they ran away. They weren’t like you.” She swallowed and gripped her clothes tighter. “They were scary.”

So, she wasn’t as unaffected as Bucky thought. Her voice was unsteady, and the smell of fear was unmistakable. Kids weren’t supposed to see things like this. Like Bucky.  She seemed fine now, but what about when she tried to sleep tonight? What about years from now when people told her she was crazy and she couldn’t trust her own memories?

Didn’t seem right. Not for a kid, and especially not one that had saved his life. Bucky didn’t know how she’d done it, but he was proof positive that magic, or something like it, was real.

Bucky turned back to look at her, sadness weighing heavily on him like a physical thing. He didn’t want her to be afraid, or worse, harmed by what had happened. Would the demons come back to this place or would they prey on other unsuspecting targets? Either way, he swore he would hunt them down. It was a small price to pay to come back to life.

But first, there was the matter of the girl. He couldn’t leave her like this, with such dangerous knowledge in her head.

As Bucky moved to give her back the plate, something deep and instinctual within him rose to the surface. The girl extended her hand and he dropped the plate, grabbed her arm and pulled her forward. Her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open, but Bucky’s other hand cradled her cheek as he pressed his thumb directly between her brows.

A jolt went up his arm and through his hand, straight down his thumb and into her thoughts, her memories. Surprise mixed with horror when he sensed the memories she had just created, of him and the demons and the portal, were obliterated from her mind. Just as the Chair had done to him.

Bucky released her, shocked by what he’d just done, and then was forced to rush forward as the girl started to collapse. Fearing the worst, Bucky felt along her head and neck, but she was breathing, slowly and deeply as if she’d just fallen asleep. Her face was smooth and untroubled, too innocent for what she’d experienced.

Holding her carefully, Bucky carried her and laid her down on the bed. Not knowing what else to do, he pulled the covers over her, hoping if her family came in and found her they would think she was simply asleep. She was asleep, Bucky was coming to realize. Whatever power he’d wielded had done this, and perhaps it was a small mercy she wasn’t conscious for it, but it still made him sick down to his bones.

When she woke up, she wouldn’t remember any of it, including Bucky. Perhaps… that was for the best.

With one last lingering look, Bucky strode across the room to the open window. Under the cover of darkness, he leapt from the ledge and opened his wings, catching the air and flapping as hard as he could to gain altitude.

It wasn’t until he was high in the air with the lights glittering below him that he realized his claws were still wrapped around the stuffed cat. He’d have to return it at some point, but for now, he had other, more pressing problems.

One, Bucky was starving. He was so hungry he could barely think, as if all his years of being dormant were catching up to him. The pain of it was consuming, racking his body and making him shudder midair.

And two… he had yet to hear the voice again. It filled him with emptiness, his pleas going unanswered, but he couldn’t say he was surprised. Maybe he’d gone crazy in that place. Most men would have. He was just disappointed to have been proven right, and the voice hadn’t been real after all.

He couldn’t think about any of that right how. First things first: Bucky had to feed.

Next Chapter

[taylorsage22]

Car Trouble (Oliver Queen x Reader)

Warning--SMUT. Request-None

“I kept telling you to get this damn car serviced months ago, but did you listen? No!” You told Oliver, your voice a little louder that needed.         It was a hot summer night and you decided to take a drive just outside the city to get away from it all and spend some alone time. Everything was going great. You took the back country roads, Oliver driving a little too fast, the windows rolled down as you hung your hand out, feeling the cool breeze tousle your hair while looking at the pretty purple sundown. That is until Olly’s car broke down and just refused to start again, no matter how much he poked at it under the hood.         “Nothing was wrong with it, okay! How would I know it would break down in the middle of nowhere?” He raised his voice at you too as he took off his baseball cap,  wiped the sweat from his forehead, ran his hand through his hair and let the lid of the car drop down with a loud bang.         “Let’s not get mad at each other. We need to figure out what to do, it´s already dark and it’s starting to rain, Oliver” You said, your voice calmer now.         Small raindrops started drizzling down the car’s windows just as you both got inside it again. You were parked off a back road in the countryside, only fields and woods in sight.         “I’m calling road service. Not a single car has passed in the last hour. We have no other choice.” Oliver said and picked up his phone.         He told them what happened and send them out your location.         “They’ll be here in 2 hours” Oliver said as he hung up the phone.         “2 hours?!” Your eyes widened at him         “We’re pretty far away from Starling, y/n. But this actually isn’t bad. Look how pretty the scenery is” He said smiling, looking ahead at the forest, his eyes sparkling like a little kid’s.         “I guess you’re right. We haven’t really had alone time like this in a while” You said, marveling at the raindrops sliding down the windshield and disappearing in the hood of the car.         You felt him move his hand carefully to sweep you hair back and caress your cheek lightly. You locked eyes with him and noticed that he looked at you with desire now, licking his lips. He pulled you in closer and pressed his lips against yours. He kissed you slowly, biting your bottom lip and then running his tongue over it as if to soothe it. His hands tangled in your hair, pulling at it lightly, making you whimper against his lips, before moving down and settling on your waist.         You lifted your leg and swung over to straddle Oliver in the driver seat. He deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue in your mouth, while his hands dropped to your ass, squeezing it roughly under your dress. You noticed the windows have now fogged up, creating a blurry curtain.         You felt neediness creep into you and you started rolling your hips down on Oliver's. He broke the kiss to let out a deep moan and rest his head back as you felt him harden underneath you.         His big hands went to your breasts, massaging them harshly over your bra and clothes. He let one of his hands drop down your stomach and slide up the hem of your dress before going to your heat. You moaned and leaned back against the steering wheel. He started rubbing circles over your clothed clit. He watched you squirming at this slightest touch, watched how you were slowly going crazy because of him and he enjoyed every moment of it. He pulled your panties to the side and slowly slid a finger inside you, looking at your expressions the whole time. Your hands went to his chest for support, feeling like you´re spinning. He started pumping slowly while you got wetter and was already almost dripping down his hand. He added another finger in and you leaned into him, crashing you lips on his, needing to feel more of him. You moaned into the kiss, feeling your high getting closer with each move of his fingers. You started moving your hips in sync with his fingers, trying to get more.          “That’s right babygirl, fuck yourself on my fingers, just like that.”          You were bouncing up and down on his fingers at this point, pulling at his hair, burying your face in his neck while getting louder and louder.           You heard the rain fall down more heavily on the hood of the car now and tried to focus on the calming sound of it instead of your dangerously close orgasm.          “Let’s cool off” Oliver said with a hint of a smile, grabbing your head and making you look at him, making you shiver despite the intense heat in the car.         You looked at him questioningly, not getting what he meant right away.            He opened the door and gave you a light push, gesturing you to get out before following you. As you were both standing there under the rain, it finally clicked in your brain.          He slammed you against the door of the car, your back immediately getting soaked because of the rain. He started kissing you. It was sloppier than before, you could taste his desperation. It was pouring now, you felt your hair and your dress stick to your skin, but you didn’t mind it at all. Oliver was making your body was so hot that the rain falling down on you felt soothing.           Oliver moved his hands down to your hips and lifted you as you wrapped your legs around him. He carried you to the front of the car, never breaking the kiss. He set you down on the hood, running his hands through your hair, now soaking wet. You pulled back a little to look at him. His hair was dripping too, his uneven breath coming out of his slightly parted lips. Raindrops were rolling down his body, making his thin white shirt cling to him, becoming see-through, making every detail of him visible to you. You felt your panties cling to you but you weren’t sure if it was the rain to blame for this. He pulled down the straps of your dress before tugging at the neckline. He pulled your bra down too, exposing your breasts to the rain, which made them glisten, while the cool summer breeze made your nipples hard. He apparently liked what he saw, you noticed his eyes shine in the dark, before he took one of your nipples in his mouth, biting at it and rolling his tongue around it.         Oliver placed his hand on your shoulder, pushing you back to lay down a little. You rested back on your elbows while looking up at the sky, the tops of the trees in the nearby forest, and the rain falling down on your face.           Oliver unzipped his pants, tugging them down. He pushed you panties to the side again, not bothering to take them off, before spreading your legs open slowly while gliding his palm down your wet thigh, squeezing lightly. He leaned in, placing his hands on either side of you.         Olly’s eyes were glued to yours as he rubbed his dick over your slit a couple of times, teasing you, watching you squirm under him, before pushing in slowly. He stayed like that for a couple of seconds, trying to collect himself and calm his breathing. He buried his face in your neck as he pulled slightly out and slammed back in you again. He started fucking you slowly but deeply as if trying to savor every moment of it. Every move of his hips felt so good, you never wanted it to end.         It started raining even more and you found it hard trying not to slip off the car. Taehyung noticed and brought you down. He turned you around and bent you slightly, gathering the fabric of your dress and scrunching it behind your back. You leaned on your palms against the hood as you lifted one of your legs a little and put it on the bumper. Oliver started thrusting in you from behind, pulling at your dress, almost tearing it off of you, before his arms wrapped around your body, over your neck and breasts, trying to keep you as close as possible. His fingers found your wet breasts and he started to pinch and play with your nipples, before settling one of his hands around your throat, making you gasp for air because of his strong grip. He was now going harder on you, the rain falling down on you adding on to the pleasure. Your moans, Olivers deep grunts and the lewd noises of him smashing against your wet body was all that was heard in this secluded place, as if you two were the only ones in the universe in that moment.         Oliver pushed you forward, pinning you to the hood, the cold steel of the car against your sensitive nipples making you shiver all over. He grabbed your soaked hair and arched you back a little as he leaned over you, breathing near your ear, your name leaving his lips, driving you insane and pushing you closer to your edge. One of his hands dropped down to your clit, rubbing in slow, hard circles. His touch made you scream louder, almost echoing through the vast open space.          “Come on, cum for me, pretty thing, soak my dick even more” Oliver's breath tickled your neck, before running his lips over it, biting ever so slightly, pushing you completely over the edge.           You felt a wave of pleasure wash over you, trembling in Olly’s arms. Your knees were weak and he was the only thing keeping you upright as he met his own end, riding it out slowly, you name on his lips and his hands squeezing you hard as If worried you’d disappear.         You leaned back against him as you both tried to catch your breaths, just standing there, letting the rain wash over you.         You got in the car while Oliver fumbled for something in the trunk, coming back with a blanket. He threw it over your shoulders, pulling you closer as he kissed your wet hair.          “We should have car trouble more often” He said, grinning at you devilishly.

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

Ive never really understood the hype surrounding Taylor Swift - I mean, I like some of her songs, but im not big on modern pop music so generally she just doesn’t really click for me. But I find it interesting that theres quite a few of Beatles/Swift blogs - like, they should have very little in common given that they’re from completely different eras and all, but somehow people seem to find a lot of semblance between the two. << and thats not me shitting on any of these blogs btw! Hope I don’t come off as rude or condescending there <3

Anyway, I was just wondering what got you into Taylor Swift? (I think ive read your post on how you got into the Beatles)

Hi, anon! Don't worry, I don't think you're rude or condescending! I agree they don't have too much in common and I don't really like their music for the same reasons.* I do have a playlist of Paul songs that have similar vibes to Taylor songs but it's mostly lyric-based. (Also the Beatles For Sale songs actually have quite the Taylor-tinge because Paul and John were not immune to Country Music)

I saw @stewy say once that a possible reason there are a good handful of us Swiftie-Beatle People on here is the appeal of a vast discography, which I agree with. If you have an artist/group with 200ish songs, it's just really fun to really dive into their work and explore all the facets. I also think: we're talking about the most popular band of all time and one of the highest-selling artists of the 21st century. They have a lot of fans so there's bound to be overlap, regardless of musical differences.

Moving on to your question: Getting into Taylor was an extremely personal experience for me and so my explanation is probably going to be kind of long so I'll put it under a read more.

It was spring-summer 2014, I was 15. I had heard the more popular songs of hers starting with Love Story and enjoyed pretty much all of them (I always found her hopelessly romantic point of view fascinating) but before I got a Spotify account in 2013 it was difficult in general for me to really get into an artists' entire discography so most of her songs had flown under my radar.

At the time, I was in this very weird sort of codependent online friendship with this girl who was basically my first real best friend and my first more or less crush. She was very depressed and I was very much in an I Could Fix Her™ mood, except that I obviously couldn't fix her and it made me feel like I wasn't enough and she had begun pulling more and more away from me and not replying to my messages and it was simply driving me insane. I consider it the saddest period in my life.

at some point during this period, I started trying to connect with other people (all online, I didn't know how to talk seriously to anyone IRL) and explaining the issues I'd been having, and one of the people who brought me joy and whom I actually felt not drained talking to was a huge swiftie. And IDK the fact that she loved Taylor and the fact that talking to her made my life better (and also the fact that I liked all the Taylor songs I knew at that point) just made me decide to give her a listen. And I think that whole "large discography discovery" phenomenon really helped me at the time (funny, because her discography has doubled since then). It gave me something new to focus on; there were just so many songs to discover, all telling such rich stories. I also have always loved bridges, they are almost always my favourite part of a song. And Taylor, god-bless her, loves them too and always puts her ALL in them. Like pretty much every bridge of hers brings the song to the next level, and even a lot of her songs I don't adore tend to have great bridges (Stay Stay Stay and Paper Rings come to mind). I think one of her most underrated qualities is how good she is at song structure and really building up an entire musical journey with a song. She also almost always adds cool ad-libs in her second and third choruses to keep the songs interesting and dynamic (or at least since she's gone pop). Anyways, back to the story: Then Taylor announced 1989 as her next album and released Shake It Off, and it was just like this great happy thing for me to look forward to, when I had very little keeping me going. The era was promoting a lot of happiness which in hindsight was slightly fabricated and it was just a really great thing for me to latch onto.

At the same time I was coming to realize that I was gonna have to pull away completely from my friend and all those break-up songs just… Hit, y'know? Like, some people seem to think Taylor's a one-trick pony because she likes to write break-up songs but to me, break-ups are just like this moment where you as a human can potentially feel every single emotion, and Taylor's songs have covered every facet of the concept. Here are some songs I remember from that period, that all meant a lot to me at the time because they explained my own pain to me so well:

Haunted, for the absolute terror you feel in the first moments you realize someone is probably gonna leave you. Come on, come on / Don't leave me like this / I thought I had you figured out / Something's gone terribly wrong / You're all I wanted.

I Almost Do, for the inner turmoil you feel when you know you have to stay away from someone for your own good but you really, really have to resist just running back to that person. We've made quite a mess, Babe / It's probably better off this way / And I confess, Babe / In my dreams you're touching my face / And asking me if I wanna try again / With you / And I almost do.

Last Kiss, for that absolute sadness that comes simply with remembering everything that was good and not comprehending how it could've possibly ended. I still remember / The look on your face / Lit through the darkness / At 1:58 / Words that you whispered / For just us to know / You told me you loved me / So why did you go / Away?

Forever and Always, for that feeling of desperately wanting to hold on to what you still have but at the same time realizing it probably isn't going to last and having no idea how to fix it, plus feeling like the other person doesn't even care. So here's to everything / Coming down to nothing / Here's to silence / That cuts me to the core / Where is this going? / Thought I knew for a minute / But I don't anymore.

Dear John, my all-time favourite song, for that moment you find clarity and realize that you deserved better and that you were headed in an extremely dark direction because of this other person. [DISCLAIMER: my friend did NOT abuse me nor did we have some inappropriate age difference. But the way she would ignore me and her general moodiness really affected my own mental health and self-worth problems] You paint me a blue sky / And go back and turn it to rain / And I lived in your chess games / But you changed the rules every day / Wondering which version of you I might get on the phone / Tonight / Well I stopped picking up / And this song is to let you know why.

(She's covered more aspects of break-ups in other songs [cheating, divorce, feeling awkward around your ex amongst others], these are just the ones I remember being really important to me when I was first getting into her)

She really helped me feel a lot less alone during one of my loneliest periods and I really can't thank her enough for that. Soon after this, I started crushing on a girl in my class and Taylor's love songs started to take on a new meaning for me as well.

What's crazy to me is, when she went on hiatus for a few years, a part of me thought maybe I'd grown out of her and no longer had much in common with her, but when reputation came out I was pulled right back into my love for her as a person and musician and then when Lover came out I found that she was still explaining feelings to me better than I ever could (specifically with the songs The Archer and Cornelia Street). And now with folklore and evermore she's simply absolutely perfected her story-telling and I find myself deeply moved even by the songs I don't directly relate to. I feel like she has this amazing ability to find the absolute truth in the specific. I've never had a summer romance with someone who already had a girlfriend and mostly wanted to go back to her, and yet the bridge of august feels so real to me, y'know?

Back when we were still changin' for the better Wanting was enough For me, it was enough To live for the hope of it all Cancel plans just in case you'd call And say, "Meet me behind the mall" So much for summer love and saying "us" 'Cause you weren't mine to lose

It's hard to explain but looking at this, like it's so much more than the story it's telling. It's talking about how when you're young you really need so little to feel satisfied; how sometimes the idea of someone maybe spending time with you is better than actually doing things with other people; and how if someone using you without much thought can make you feel like you're not even entitled to grieve what you lost. Sorry. I'll stop. Don't want to go insane.

So, all of this is very personal and unique to me, but I think really the main thing that draws me to her is how vulnerable and honest she is about emotions, how eloquently she can explain the pain of being alive to me. Some people think she isn't the strongest singer, but I think, much like John actually, one of her greatest assets is how good she is at projecting emotion. The song happiness is a song I think has some lyrically weak moments but her vocal performance on it is so raw and devastating that every single line works even when, looking at it on paper, it feels like it shouldn't.

Hope this rambling made sense to you, lmao?? I love talking about Taylor though so thanks for the ask! Also very open to giving song recs if you do want to check her out more but I won't unless solicited to lmao *Sort of off-topic but I do think there's a relation between my fascination with the Beatles' history and my love for a great break-up song. I like pain I guess :)

[anika-ann]

If You Stumble... - Pt.2

Step Two

Type: Three-shot, part of a soulmate AU series  (part 1 here)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader    Word count: 3830

Summary: If you stumble…make it part of the dance.

Date à la Steve, aka charming bastard, completely off charts. Featuring dancing, stumbling, tons of fluff and some sexual tension if you squint.

Warnings: swearing, fluff

Part 1

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

You had enough time to process what you had seen in the video, pulling yourself together, getting excited about your special date again. Agent Morales was a good driver, his skills allowing you to relax in your seat, a smile finding its way to your lips.

By the time he pulled over, you couldn’t get out of the car fast enough – yet, someone beat you to opening the door, a hand being offered to assist you when stepping out.

One brief glance at the gentleman and you were smiling even wider, accepting his hand.

“Madam,” Steve greeted you softly as you climbed out of the car.

He looked amazing. You had seen him in a suit before, but this one was… different somehow. It might have only been due to the decorative handkerchief in his front pocket and the wider tie with a knot you weren’t seeing too often these days. Steve had his hair combed to side, old-fashion hair style, but it seemed as a bit of a clumsy job. While his appearance wasn’t exactly the same you were used to, the warm twinkle in his eyes remained.

“Captain Rogers,” slipped through your lips as you heard it too many times from your driver, making your soulmate blink in surprise, his shoulders tensing.

He gulped, his gaze shifting to the man who got out of the car.

“Captain Rogers,” he echoed.

“Thank you, Agent Morales. I realize this is way below your pay grade.”

The dark-haired man grinned. “Believe me, Captain, I had much worse assignments. Definitely with less pleasant company too. Enjoy your evening. Madam,” he nodded in goodbye and you reciprocated the gesture, doors shutting.

You were left alone with your companion, face to face with the most handsome man you had ever met.

“What is the plan for tonight, Captain Rogers?”

Steve licked his lips, apparently catching your amusement when you saw him squirm a little under the title. This was the second time you called him his rank since you met – and both were today within this minute.

He composed himself fast enough though. “Madam. Seeing as we’re about to spent an evening together, I believe you can drop the formalities.”

Using his opportunity as he still held your hand, he kissed its back, his gaze never leaving your face. For some reason, you found it as adorable as… sexy. There, you said it. The way he looked, the demeanour… it made things to your core.  Gentleman Steve was your new kink, though that could as well be because of Steve himself and your pilling sexual frustration with this man. And the fact you had fooled around a bit before and you knew the gentleman could vanish with a little effort, nearly tipping over the borders of politeness even.

“Mr. Rogers it is, then?”

“If you wish so,” he smirked and followed by offering you his elbow to lead you inside…whatever this was. He addressed you with Miss and your last name then and you bit your lip at the shiver it sent down your body.

Why was it affecting you this much tonight? You had been playful like this before.

“Yes, Mr. Rogers?”

“You wouldn’t know how to dance foxtrot, would you?” he asked nonchalantly, a spine-melting smile spreading on his lips when he saw the answer written all over your face, excitement lighting up your expression. Guess he couldn’t see the twist of your stomach, the little insecurity, reminding you that you weren’t the best dancer in the first place, taking too long to learn the simplest steps. You shook your head. “Swell. We’ll learn together then.”

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The dancehall Steve led you in was… stunning. Not vast, which suited the fact there were only five other pairs in the room, one of them clearly being professionals judging by their choice of clothes; your lecturers.

The parquet floor appeared to be polished just minutes ago, nearly reflecting the lights. The interior was subtly decorated, stripe of weak light bulbs, the old-looking ones that you only knew from pictures, always lining out the title of movies outside of cinema. Several Chinese lanterns were hanging from the ceiling, drowning the room in moody crimson. You half-expected a band dressed in white tuxedos standing along the wall, but there was only table with a gramophone; the room was too small for anything else, you assumed. It still stole breath from your lungs as you casted a glance at Steve, absolutely astonished.

What… how… how?

He leaned to your ear and for a second you thought he was about to break character and explain. He did only one of those things.

“You’d be surprised at what people enjoy these days, miss. Little trips to the past every now and then…” he hummed indefinitely and you just shook your head, unable to respond.

Guess he wasn’t wrong. It still astounded you; how had he found the place? And how had he managed to accomplish the lack of staring from the other attendants?

“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, in Charles’ dance hall. Tonight, we’re starting with foxtrot,” the man you had previously identified – correctly – greeted you. “As I see several new faces here, I’d like to remind you what is the most important part of making the dance resemble a dance. Your stance. The way you hold yourself.”

Well. Now you knew why you never had been good at dancing.

He demonstrated the starting position with the woman in lovely flowing silver dress. You gulped and tried to imitate her.

Yours and Steve’s feet lined up, your bodies below your waists rather close. His wide palm sat between your shoulder blades, perhaps an inch lower. Swallowing your panic when meeting his reassuring smile, you reluctantly leaned back into his touch.

“The key of course, is also partnership. Ladies, I need you to trust your partner and lean some of your weight onto his hand. He won’t drop you. Lean backwards a bit, tilt your head back slightly and turn your head an inch to your left. You’ll be watching your left upper corner, just in case you’d like to escape there.”

You chuckled at the silly little joke, the tension falling from your shoulders. You knew Steve wouldn’t drop you; but there was a difference between leaning onto his body as he held you and practically turning aside from him.

“I wouldn’t drop you, miss. I promise,” he mouthed and you fought the urge to roll your eyes.

Well. You didn’t really have a choice, did you?

With a deep exhale, you followed the lecturers’ example. Steve seemed perfectly content, not even a trace of strain on his face as he supported your weight.

Of course, you dummy, he can probably lift a car or something. One-handedly.

“Eyes to your left, lady in blue.”

You bit your lip when you were called out, but obeyed. It was dizzying, but you could tell it was mostly because of the foreign and very ridiculous fear of letting Steve take control.

“Perfect. Now, let’s move to the actual steps…”

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The actual steps weren’t that hard; at least the basic ones. Yet, you and Steve both listened and watched intently, trying to absorb all the new info.

Steve’s fingers wandered from time to time though. He would toy with the hem of your dress, or gingerly brushed his fingertips along the ends of your hair. They were the most decent touches, absolutely innocent, but they were driving you crazy, incredibly distracting. It wasn’t an unpleasant distraction, it was the sweetest torture, making your insides deliciously warm, but god, you knew you would become mad with want before the night was over.

You had no freaking idea what was wrong with you tonight.

But Steve looking good enough to eat? Not helping.

The good-mood lightning? Not exactly helping either.

Steve’s touches? Not helping at all.

The indulgent smile on his face and the yet indefinable spark in his eyes resembling mischief? Really fucking not helping.

There was a break for ten minutes, to help you catch your breath, but Steve’s presence made it difficult. He bought you a soda, handing it to you with a polite smile, quickly retreating when his fingers brushed yours. As if it was inappropriate or something.

“Thank you, Mr.Rogers.”

“My pleasure, miss,” he murmured and you wondered if he was aware of what he was doing to you.

The more he avoided touches to act like a gentleman, the more you craved them. You were probably pathetic, but your body didn’t seem to care. You held your own – you reserved your touches as well. It was a bit maddening that he didn’t seem bothered by it as much as you were.

The real test of your skills came when figures were added to dancing. You felt like you nearly mastered the basic steps, which of course, led to learning more difficult combinations. Natural Turn was alright, just like the Reversed one. Hell, you managed even the Feather Finish or whatever the name was. Then came Waves, which was… okay.

Except it was followed by all of those things combined together in certain order. You felt like your brain hemispheres were on fire.

It was inevitable, really.

You mixed up the steps, feet tangling together – you were pretty sure you tripped over Steve’s too, because his feet naturally continued their right path – and you were falling, closing your eyes in anticipation of the impact.

Except you barely swayed.

Steve’s hand simply brought you closer, pushing you to his body so you stood upright again, stopping his movements just to hold you. With that, his face got really close all of sudden, his breath tickling your mouth, his warmth and cologne enwrapping you.

You slowly blinked your eyes open, meeting his bright eyes with only a shadow of concern. Christ, he was so handsome. You could feel his muscles this up close and you wanted to run your hands over them, to see what it would do to the good-natured blue and green of his irises, to feel his breathing pick up if you used your mouth to explore them.

“You alright… miss?”

You breathed in shakily, your lips parting. Your whole body buzzed, the almost-fall forgotten at instant, replaced by unbearable urge to steal a kiss. A very, very long kiss with tongue and wandering hands. You swore your heart was trying to beat its way out of your chest.

“Y-yes,” you stammered, licking your lips. Steve’s eyes flickered to follow the movement with his gaze, but swiftly snapped back to yours, a faint smile spreading on his face as he eased his hold.

Really? Really?!

“Told you I wouldn’t let you fall. Let’s join them at some familiar figure, shall we?”

Your brain was a scrambled mess, heat pooled in your belly, but you nodded, forcing your mind to get straight.

Dancing now. Foxtrot. Horizontal tango might come later. Ugh…

To your surprise, you actually managed to dive back in, the catchy tunes entering your body and leading you through. You practiced the combinations some more, your feet finally getting the message, growing familiar with how one step followed another, turn after turn, figure after figure.

You weren’t warned that it was the last song of the evening until it ended, your dance finished without a single fault, resulting in delighted grin on your face. Finally allowed, your gaze left the left upper corner and shifted to Steve as you straightened.

You were taken aback when he didn’t quite mirror your expression. His eyes were on you, yes, bright and full of wonder, but only subtlest smile on his full lips.

“What is it?” you whispered, partly because you were worried people might hear, partly because the atmosphere didn’t feel like it should be disturbed by loud voices. Peripherally, you noticed the couples were wrapped each in their own bubble as well. Good.

Steve lowered your joined hands to your side and then let go, his fingertips running up your arm, shoulder and neck, ending with his thumb tenderly brushing your cheek.

You were embarrassed at what the innocent touch did to you, but that was of no importance. Steve’s gaze was growing serious, yet remaining soft, just like his voice.  

“I… I thought I’d fit in here better than into today’s world,” he spoke lowly, his smile widening a fraction, a tiniest shake of his head following as if in disbelief. “But it turns out I just fit with you.”

Snap. Shot right through your heart, knocking air from your lungs. Your lips parted in silent shock, your bones melting as you understood why he was looking at you like that.

Oh, oh, heavens.

“Steve…” you whispered, touched by the sweetest words, the genuine and endless affection in his expression. He didn’t seem to mind the slip of his first name. This was beyond some little game. This was so, so much more true.

“I love you. I know it might be too soon to say that and you don’t have to say anything in return. I just think you deserve to know how special you are to me,“ he continued softly and your whole world begun floating.

He loves me.

A tide wave of delight washed over you, the blue and green of his irises drowning you. He loved you. This incredible wonderful human being loved you.

Yeah, you should have probably figured that out by now. You saw the video, little voice in your head supplied and you had to admit it wasn’t wrong.

‘This holds the greatest importance!’

‘With due all respect, Senator Brendon, so does she.’

The familiar pressure of unshed tears assaulted your eyes, your whole being, your very soul moved beyond words.

“Oh Steve, I love you too.”

The whole room seemed to light up and disappear; Steve’s smile turned blinding, his thumb grazing your lips. Oh, how you wanted to kiss him, to feel he loved you as he claimed.

Someone cleared their throat rather loudly and your private bubble burst with a deafening pop. Your head snapped their direction, only to see the dance teacher with the corners of his lips twitching.

“Madam, sir, I’m afraid I have to ask you to leave. We’ll be shutting lights for the day.”

You blinked in confusion, looking around; everyone had left already. You were the only pair remaining.

“Sorry,” Steve murmured, releasing you so you could gather your stuff, the little purse and thin sweater, only to throw both over your shoulders hastily.

His previous words still echoed in your ears like the most beautiful song ever, your heart happily singing along. He loved you.

“No harm done. Enjoy the rest of your evening,” the man wished you with a nod and Steve offered you an elbow on your way out. You accepted it, wishing to melt into him completely instead.

Only then you noticed it; was that a leather jacket on his arm? You frowned, but kept your mouth shut until you exited the building.

Steve beat you to speaking. “I hope you aren’t too tired, miss. We have one more destination.”

Your head snapped to him, caught off guard. Would he ever run out of surprises tonight? They had been all very pleasant, some more than others (he loved to too!), but you would be perfectly fine just going home for the night. And preferably take him with you to cuddle him to sleep. Or something else; not that he would be up for that, clearly, with his whole ‘miss’ thing and everything.

“We do?” you asked, curious smile on your lips.

“Yes. Don’t worry, though, it’s not far. Wouldn’t want you to walk for long in those shoes.”

God bless him.

Truth to his words, after less than five minutes you found yourself entering a cosy diner, slightly cheesy blue and pink interior with matching seats. The place was half-empty – or half-full, hard to tell – despite the late hour, a woman behind the counter instantly spotting you and following you with her gaze as Steve led you to a boot.

“After you,” he beckoned to the seats, gentleman all the way.

“Thank you, Mr.Rogers.”

He smirked at that, apparently content you had slid right back to your act. On the inside, you couldn’t decide whether you should keep trying so hard or simply let it go and show him that you wanted his old self back; the Steve Rogers you had met was charming enough, even though you couldn’t deny the appeal in meeting this one.

Given the fact it was after eleven, your usual bedtime nearing, you weren’t really hungry. While Steve ordered a burger, you only went for a milkshake. Even on the first glance, you could tell it was one of the quality milkshakes, a recipe from the times when people didn’t count every single calorie.

“Oh, oh wow,” you muttered when that thing landed in front of you along with polite ‘enjoy’.

“They’re good,” Steve assured you with a grin, waiting for you to eat – well, drink – first. “Trust me. I made my research before taking a swell dame like you here.”

You bit your lip at his words, touched and amused at the same time.

“Did you, Mr. Rogers? Do you realize that drinking this should be a crime? Especially at this hour? It’s a sugar bomb.” His face fell despite your playful tone and you decided not to torture him – not in a way that would make him feel miserable anyway. “And I’m gonna enjoy every single drop of that.”

You took the straw between your lips, giving an experimental suck, meeting his gaze that seemed to be locked on you.

Heaven exploded in your mouth. Yeah, screw this, you deserved some sugar after all the heavy work you had done on the dance floor. You might have moaned a little at the sweet taste, because Steve’s eyes darkened, his tongue darting to lick his lips. You fought a smirk, confident you had a pretty good idea of what crossed his mind when seeing you like this.

If he could torture you with his gentleman act, you could draw your own weapons. You fingers went to adjust the straw delicately, your eyelids fluttering close. Hearing the little choked noise he had released was about as delicious as the milkshake.

“You were right. It’s pretty good,” you exclaimed. Steve’s wide pupils hypnotized you and you grinned, nudging him with your foot lightly under the table. “You should start eating, Mr.Rogers.”

“Right. Right. Glad you like the... the milkshake.”

“Oh, I do. I really, really do.”

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Of course, Steve Rogers was a freaking bastard and he always had an ace in his sleeve, even when it came to causing cardiac arrests to his soulmate.

He paid for your food and drinks, because of course he did, but that wasn’t it. Nope. You left the diner shortly before midnight, that damn leather jacket of which you still had no clue what was for on his arm. It didn’t make sense; you would expect him to offer it to you, but you thought the actual chivalry was in offering a dame something he actually wore at the moment, showing her that her comfort was more important than his.

And then you saw the motorbike he had led you too and literally everything clicked into place. Including the dark nylons; he wanted at least something to cover you when you straddled the bike, sitting behind him.

Oh. Oh shit. This was going to be the death of you. You were suddenly very grateful for the choice you had made with your dress. Despite knowing what a ride like this would do to you and your filthy brain, you wouldn’t miss it for a world.

“May I give you a ride home, miss?” he asked with a grin, eyes sparkling happily when he saw your jaw fell.

“Yes!” you blurted out before your brain even processed what he was asking.

He held out the jacket for you to slip in, the warm material immediately enwrapping you. It smelled like leather and Steve and you inhaled more deeply, letting the sensation overwhelm you. Your imagination not so helpfully supplied you with Steve wearing the leader jacket, cocky smirk on his face and jerking his head, inviting you to sit behind him on the motorcycle.

Yes, you were definitely about to die and you weren’t thinking road accident.

“I have no helmet for you, but you have my word – I’d never let anything happen to you,” he declared as he stood at your back, his lips nearly brushing your earlobe, voice an octave lower than before and heavy with a promise.

You were dead. Murdered on spot. With unfairly wet underwear on top of that. God help me.

“Do you trust me?” he whispered with barely audible hesitance.

You gave a firm nod, snapping from your haze.

“Good. Come on.”

He straddled the bike – oh, how your mind hadn’t done him justice, the reality was much more destructive to both your heart and underwear, and he wasn’t even wearing the leather jacket –, beckoning for you to join him. You reluctantly did so, your thighs linked with his as each side. Your heart was beating its way out of your chest, hammering rapidly, and you were sure he would be able to feel that if you wrapped your arms around him – which was pretty much a necessity.

He glanced at your over his shoulder, a smile that was simultaneously sweet and wicked at the same time on his lips. Smug bastard, reading you like a book. What had you done to anyone, ending up with soulmate like that?

“I’m gonna need you to hold onto me,” he informed you gently and you took a deep breath, leaning onto his back.

God, he was warm. And muscular. So very muscular, which was no news, but God. You bit the inside of your cheek when you imagined just how perfect sensation you were about to have under your palms. Steve’s hands took your wrists with care, placing them on his middle, letting you feel his perfect front.

“Hold onto me tight. Can’t have you falling off, doll,” he whispered, the pet name rolling of his tongue with indulgence and you couldn’t tell whether it was on purpose. But it only fuelled your illusion of him being the bad boy of ol’ Brooklyn, sending a shudder through your body. You obeyed and placed your cheek against his back on top of that. It drew a satisfied hum from him, one you could feel in your bones as it vibrated though his chest. “That’s better. Can you keep it like this?”

You gulped. “Yeah. Yeah, I can.”

But I can’t promise I’ll ever let go.

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Part 3 (final)

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Tags: @cxptain​​​ @mermaidxatxheart​​ @smilexcaptainx​​ , @murdermornings​​​@irepostthingsiwanttoseelater , @polarcrystall​​​ @eliza5616​​​ @rayofdawnworld @victor-criss-bish​​​ @skychild29​​​  @elysianecho​​​ @simmisblog​​​ @scentedsongrebel​​​ @orions-nebula​​​, @sergeantrosabellaswan​​​ @songofcosplay​​​, @ilovesupersoldiers​​​ @wxstedhexrt​​ @silver-winter-wolf​​ @nova3312​​​  @guardian-tn @janieavalos​​​, @vxidnik​

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My Brain: Alright. We’ll summarize a nice date (because Steve’s sweet like that) in about two paragraphs and-- okay, fine, who are we kidding, it will probably take like 1k words, but that’s okay, we can work with that…. and then there will be their first time, the main focus of this fic.

-7k words later, have not even started with the funny business yet-

Word Counter: You were saying?

My Brain: …it’s all foreplay, can’t you see…?

Aaaanyway, thank you for reading!

[youseethingsandyouknow]

Wayward

A/N: This initially was just suppose to be a quick oneshot but here we are. Thanks to my friend @avie for helping me sort out all my ideas. I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter 2

An infuriating high pitched alarm stirred Kakarot in his sleep. The blaring sound rang loudly in his ears as he groaned, annoyed and half asleep.

“Kakarot.” A familiar voice called to him. Kakarot turned onto his back, his breath quickening.

“Kakarot!” The voice screamed and Kakarot sprung up in his bed, his eyes wide and his chest heaving, startled awake by the memory.

Trying to get his bearings, Kakarot looked around and realized that he was still on Earth, in a small, unfurnished room. Gasping and taking a deep breath, Kakarto ran his hand through his wild hair, trying to get a hold of himself.

After a moment, Kakarot looked to the clock on the nightstand to his right. It was mid-morning, too late in the day for Kakarot’s liking. There was too much to do, and he wasn’t going to keep wasting his day thinking or dreaming about things that he shouldn’t.

Groaning, he stretched his arms over his head, cracking his joints. Finally, he slid his legs to the side of the bed and stood, taking another long stretch, willing his body to wake up with each movement. Yawning, Kakarot moved to the window, peering outside at the weather. The waves surrounding the small island he had been staying at for the last six weeks were hitting the beach roughly, a storm raging over the sky. Kakarot sighed and walked away. Slowly, he kneeled down and laid his body out to perform his usual morning pushups. After a few hundred, Kakarot stood, sweating and panting a bit. He then continues his morning routine and goes to his clothes.

Eyeing his armor and then the human clothes next to it on the small dresser across the room, Kakarot frowned. Deciding that it was better to blend in, Kakarot finally caved and made Yamcha give him human attire. It wasn’t nearly as sturdy as his armor, but the fabric was comfortable enough. Frustrated, he sighed and grabbed the white t-shirt. Quickly sliding it across his bare chest, Kakarot continued to get himself ready for the day. He was hoping that his next lead would be fruitful.

Once he was finished, Kakarot hurried down the stairs to the kitchen of the small beach house. Roshi was still passed out on the couch drunk and Kakarot shook his head at the old timer, not sure how the man was able to drink so much on a daily basis. Eyeing across the kitchen to see if there was anything to eat, Kakarot smirked. Taking the last sandwich, Kakarot walked outside, slamming the door. He didn’t care if he woke the old man up. He was too focused on the task at hand. Quickly finishing his sandwich, Kakarot slowly lifted himself up into the air before taking off to the city at lightning speed.

A few moments later, Kakarot found himself in front of a small run down bar. Landing carefully in the lot of the bar, Kakarot looked around, trying to see if his target was outside.

Thunder rumbled across the sky as rain continued to pour across the city. It was a gloomy, wet day and Kakarot trudged across the gravel parking lot. Since crash landing on Earth six weeks ago, Kakarot has barely had time to explore Earth much less a desire to do so. The humans he found were too emotional and weak for his taste, and he had hoped to be off this pathetic planet by now, but he hasn’t found anyone to repair his ship. Even though a vast majority of the humans annoyed him, some of them haven’t been so bad. Yamcha and Roshi found him almost dead after he crashed and nursed him back to health. Since then, they’ve been his only companions as he figured out his next move. But, all his plans had been ruined when he met Chi, and now his focus was on tracking her down and getting back what he needed.

She was good at covering her tracks, and for anyone else it would have been difficult to find her. But, as someone who started out as a low-level soldier and worked his way up to become a top warrior on the most elite Saiyan squad, finding a thief wasn’t too difficult. His search for her had taken him all over the city and beyond, discovering the darkest circles and even nastier humans. It wasn’t a problem for him though, and eventually, he found enough information to be right on her trail. Kakarot was ready to finish this.

Pulling up his dark grey hoodie to cover his head from the downpour, Kakarot looked up to look at the bar to see a woman in a jean jacket and white hoodie walking out the front door. Her long, wavy black hair was tied up in a ponytail with a light grey baseball hat on top of her head.

Chi-Chi. It was a decent disguise for anyone who didn’t know better, but she couldn’t fool him. Smiling, Kakarot’s eyes followed her as she went around black and Kakarot decided to make his move.

Her back was to him as she leaned against the bar well with a newly lit cigarette, and her shoulders exhaled as she sighed. Moving in quickly, Kakarot grabbed her shoulder and shoved Chi against the wall of the bar. Clinching the back of her neck, Kakarot kept his hold and pushed her harder against the wall as he whispered against her ear.

“I think you have something that belongs to me.”

Smirking against the wall, Chi replied, “It took you long enough.”

Frustrated, Kakarot pressed against her harder and said, “Don’t fuck with me. Where is it?”

A small giggle escaped from the wall as Chi responded, “I can’t help you if I can’t move.”

Letting his hold on her loosen, he stepped back and Chi turned to face him, rubbing her cheek a bit.

“Ouch.” She smirked.

“So, where is it?” Kakarot asked again, his patience thinning.

“Calm down. You Saiyans are all the same. Impulsive and impatient.”

Growling, Kakarot quickly stepped forward and slammed her up against the wall again, this time pressing his forearm into her neck. He leaned in close to her, inches from her lips and in an instant of fury, he punched the wall right next to her ear, Kakarot shouted, “WHERE IS IT!”

Silence passes between them as their heavy breathing, the rain, and thunder are the only thing that they can hear. At this point, their clothes and bodies are soaked from the downpour as the rain picks up a bit.

Finally, Chi says, “I’m sure King Vegeta would want to know where it is as well, Kakarot.”

Startled, Kakarot slightly loosened his hold on Chi and said, “What, how do you know him?”

Not realizing that his brief moment of shock left him open for an attack, Chi drives her knee hard into his gut, sending Kakarot stepping back away in pain. Huffing, Chi fixes her shirt and looks down at Kakarot as he is still wincing from her blow.

“Did you really think I didn’t know anything about you before I approached you at that bar? Please, I’ve been trailing you for weeks. I know everything about you, Kakarot. A fearless Saiyan who got his tail cut off, went crazy, stole from the king, and crashed landed on Earth. Now you’re on the run from King Vegeta, stuck on this,” Chi waved her hands around, “Stupid planet with no escape plan or next step. You’re making it too easy. If I was anyone else, you’d be screwed. Luckily for you, I have a need for a crazy Saiyan.”

Recovering from her cheap shot, Kakarot stood up, breathing heavily.

“What do you mean?”

Chi pulls out another cigarette, lights it and looks up at Kakarot while she blows a cloud of smoke towards him. Continuing she says, “Well, as you might have gathered from our last meeting, I’m a wanted woman. Not just from the space patrol, though. Lord Frieza would really like to see me dead.”

Shocked, Kakarot replies, “You messed with Lord Frieza? Are you insane?!”

Chi smirked, “It’s a long story but yes, he has a hit out on me and it's been really getting in my way. Now, here’s where I need your services, Kakarot. I know that he has been searching for what this map leads to for a while,” She pulls out the map from her chest and continues, “If I can entice him just enough to at least have a sit down with me, then I can get what I want.”

“And what do you want?” Kakarot asked and Chi exhaled another cloud of smoke and leaned against the wall of the bar.

“To kill Frieza.” She says with a deadly tone.

Kakarot looked at her incredulously. Sure, she was an attractive woman and for an Earthling, she was strong, and he’ll be the first one to admit that he liked that about her. But, she must have been hit in the head too many times if she thinks she can kill Frieza.

Kakarot tried to hold back his laughter but couldn't and started to crack up, laughing so much that tears welled in his eyes, his sides hurting. Realizing that she must be drunk or kidding, Kakarot caught his breath and held out his hand.

“Alright, stop messing around. Give me the map or I'll just take it from you.”

Chi frowned and crossed her arms, “I’m dead serious. I’m going to kill Frieza. And you’re going to help me.”

Kakarot rolled his eyes and cocked his head in response, “I’m not helping you with anything, sweetheart.”

Chi finished her cigarette and dropped the butt before walking over to Kakarot, “You sure about that? Well, the king will be very happy that I’ve found you. I’ll probably get a hefty reward for bringing the elusive Kakarot to him.”

“You’re bluffing.”

Pulling out a small circular device, Chi answered, “Oh, you want to test me? I’ve got his mistress on speed dial.”

“You know Bulma?” Kakarot shouted.

“Of course. We go far back. Now, let me give her a ring.”

Frustration gripped Kakarot. Sure, he was positive that he could take on King Vegeta and he wasn’t scared of him by any means. However, if he wanted to obtain is freedom, he could not let King Vegeta find him until he had everything he needed for leverage. Growling, Kakarot spat out.

“Don’t...just tell me what you want from me.”

“Good. I was hoping I didn’t have to resort to that. Blackmail or violence always seems to work better. But, I’d prefer not to hurt that gorgeous face again.” She smiled seductively as she looked Kakarot up and now, “I got to say, those human clothes look much better on you than your armour.”

Kakarot scoffed, “Please, like you could actually fight me.”

“That’s funny, didn’t I already get two blows in and I was even trying? I can try and we can do this the hard way if you’d prefer. I know you Saiyans do enjoy a good fight.” Chi teased and crossed her arms.

Tired of the suspense and his frustration building again, Kakarot spat out, “Just shut up and tell me what you want.”

Chi smiled and responded,” Excellent. Now, I need someone with your skills to help me collect the Dragon Balls. We then are going to entice Frieza with them and this map. I know he’s been searching for the Super Saiyan for years, and if this map can show us the Saiyan, and if we give him these two things and I act like I want to get back into his good graces, then he’ll have no choice but to hear me out. That’s when I’ll make my move.”

Kakarot looked at Chi confused. Sure, he’s heard of the Dragon Balls before, the Saiyans have been looking for them throughout the years but with no luck. He responds, “But the Dragon Balls are scattered throughout the galaxy. It’s impossible to find them.”

“Not entirely. I have something that can help us with that. But we need to get a move on. Frieza is hosting a gala at his palace at the end of the month, and I need to be there. I want to kill him right there.”

Sighing and wondering how he got himself in this mess, Kakarot runs a hand through his wet hair, his hood fell off his head after Chi’s blow. Sure, killing Frieza doesn’t bother him. He grew up hating Frieza and he’d be fine if he was dead but it was suicidal. Many Saiyans and others have tried and failed.

But, Kakarot couldn’t lie about how enticing this all was to him. Sure, he’s being black mailed into it but there could be worse things to be forced into, as he’s known from experience. This adventure and finally a purpose appeals to him more than he’d ever say. It also doesn’t hurt that he’d be traveling the galaxy with an attractive, feisty woman.

“Fine. I’ll do it. But as soon as Frieza is dead, I’m gone. I have my own plans.”

“Deal. Now, let’s go. Oh, and you’ll have to drive. I’m slightly buzzed.”

“Of course you are.” Kakarot grumbled and sighed. “Well how do you expect us to get out of here. I don’t have a ship, remember?”

Chi turned to her pocket and pulled out a white capsule. She clicked the top and threw it out in front of her. Seconds later, a large, grey ship appears in front of them. Grinning, Chi moves towards the ship and opens the door and walks onboard. Following her aboard, Kakarot looks around inside the ship and is surprised to see how large it is inside. The driver’s seat and controls were up left and to the right were sleeping quarters, a small kitchen and supplies. This was much bigger than his ship and Kakarot was impressed.

Sitting down in the driver’s seat, with Chi right next to him in the passenger seat, it takes Kakarot a moment to get a handle on everything before he figures out each button and their function. Each ship is similar, it just takes a second to get one’s bearings.

Turning to Chi, Kakarot asked, “Alright, it’s your show. Where are we going?”

Nodding, Chi pulls out a somewhat large white circular device and turns it on. The green grid glows and then shows a small blip with a few other circular objects around it.

“Alright, it’s in the sixth quadrant. Should take a day to get there if we stay on course.”

Kakarot started the ship’s engine and the craft hovered above the ground before blasting off to the sky.

As they are racing toward Earth’s atmosphere, Chi says, “This will be fun.”

Kakarot rolled his eyes and focused on the clouds ahead of them, “If you say so.”

Chi laughed and put her arms behind her head while propping her feet up on the ship’s dashboard.

“Just don’t fall in love with me, okay?”

Kakarot glanced at Chi and then turned back to the view in front of them.

“Not a chance.”

[mvssmallow]

Blood and Dust: Prologue

Whoever controls the Water, controls everyone. 

My name is Chan. In a former life I was the son of a farmer and soldier. After the World fell, the War for Dust and Water began, claiming every weak scavenger without loyalties and eliminating those without the right ones. There was no room for autonomous thought, only universal law enforced by Haelend and his anaemic army of psychopathic War Dogs. 

After they claimed the Eastern Oil mines, they came for the Northern Greenlands that my Grandfather protected. Few of us were spared in the war, they killed the men and mothers and branded all the children, the ones they didn’t kidnap and torture. They took whatever viable seedlings there was and only fled when a resistance led by my father staged a stealth attack at the last minute. But we were not a district of War, not back then anyway, and there was no victory march in the aftermath. There was only death and loss. 

Those who were left behind were driven mad by either grief or anger. Many left for other territories, trekking across the Dustbowl like lost immigrants, but I stayed behind, vowing to rebuild and replant on the Earth where my ancestor’s blood and ashes had fallen.

That was 8 years ago. Not much has changed. It’s hard to grow much when there’s only dirt and sun. 

Whoever controls the Water, controls everyone. 

And right now, Haelend still controls the water. 

But he doesn’t control everyone. Not yet. 

****

“Chan! Visitor at the gates.”

“How many?”

“Just one. I disarmed him already. Don’t know how the hell he got past the spikes but he’s covered in whole lot of blood.”

Chan looks up from the radio transmitter he’s been trying to fix for the last 2 weeks and sighs wearily in Changbin’s direction. “Aren’t they all?”

“Not all of them.” Changbin shrugs with a smirk, “The last stray we took in was covered in fur.”

“That mutt better not have chewed the cables again.” 

At the mention of his (alleged) crimes, a black Akita-Wolf huffs indignantly but tries to push his nose against Chan’s fingers as he follows them dutifully down the corridor. 

He’d been against taking it home but Chan had seen how dangerously closed off Changbin had gotten over the years and before Felix had collapsed at their gates last winter, he admits it had been a lonely existence with the two of them. Loneliness was so deeply an ingrained and accepted normalcy for Chan that sometimes it’s easy to forget that not everyone could survive like that. Not even grumpy guarded ones like Changbin. 

“Bear doesn’t do that anymore.”

“He did it last week.”

“He was bored.” Changbin says dismissively, reaching down to scratch behind Bear’s soft furry ears. “He thought he saw a rat.”

Chan looks over quizzically, about to ask his best friend when he started talking to animals, but decided this probably wasn’t the time to hear about ridiculous anecdotes. 

Felix is already waiting for them, crouched in his bird box look-out with one hand on the scanner and one on the trigger of his sniper rifle, poised for orders like the loyal kid he’s always been. He eyes Chan and gives the ‘ok’ signal to move ahead. 

Before any further words are uttered, a wet cough draws their attention to the stirring bloodied figure Changbin had tied to the weathered stone pillars by the gates. 

“You disarmed him before he passed out?”

“Yes.” Changbin replies, “A few knives hidden in his boots and an old rusty shooter. Magazine was empty.”

“How’d he get past the spikes?”

“Felix is trying to figure that out. Sandstorm last night might have jammed the cogs?”

“Fuck.” Chan mutters in frustration. It’s always the sandstorms. “What else?”

“Young. Male. Early twenties maybe. Too bloody to see any markings or inkwork. Defensive wounds all down his arms though.”

Unarmed, bleeding, injured or not, all visitors are treated with the same level of caution Chan reserves for War Dogs. Though, this one wasn’t nearly pale enough to be one, which meant that the majority of the blood on him wasn’t actually his own. The fact that their visitor was even alive means one of two things: he’s one hell of a fighter (there’s no such thing as luck in the Dustbowl) or he’s bait. 

The thought prickles the skin across Chan’s neck and as he tightens his grip on his double-barrel shotgun and pulls up the scarf covering the lower half of his face he can hear the tense heavy loading of Changbin’s crossbow as he does the same. Bear is, as always, hovering behind them, his menacing rumbling growl is enough to stir the visitor back into consciousness. 

Chan takes a step forward and nudges a bare bloodied foot. 

“Wake up sunshine.”

There’s a heavy pause before the visitor rolls over with a pained groan before gasping for breath like all his ribs were broken and he was suddenly hungry for air. 

“What’s your name?” Chan asks, his shoulders are aching from the anxious tension he always gets every time they have to do this.

There’s a wet splutter in reply and the visitor blinks blearily at them for a few slow seconds before the realisation of his precarious situation suddenly dawns on him all at once. “Are they gone?”

They? 

They means plural.

Nausea churns in Chan’s gut as he straightens to take in their surroundings. Looking up at the Bird Box, Felix is already scanning the perimeters with hurried efficiency, it isn’t until there’s a thumbs-up thrown in their direction that Chan breathes a sigh of relief. 

“Who is they?”

“East Block. War Dogs. Desert Snakes. Take your pick.” 

Chan looks down at their visitor with a mix of disbelief and awe. “They were all hunting you? Why?”

“They don’t need a reason.”

There’s truth in that statement. There might be Haelend’s universal law but outside the central citadels, in the vast expanse of the Dustbowl, it’s a lawless state. Few reasons are needed to justify kill. Sometimes no reason at all. 

That being said, to piss off three separate factions is a rare unenviable feat that Chan wants no association with. That fact alone sets off alarms bells and the only logical decision here is to cut their visitor loose and send him back into the desert. 

Changbin hasn’t moved or taken his eyes off the bloody mess on the ground, his crossbow remains loaded and aimed at the visitor’s head. Subtlety was never his strong suit. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Trying not to die for a few hours?”

“How’d you get past the spikes?”

“What spikes?”

Chan can feel the frustration creeping into his head and when he looks across, he can tell by Changbin’s tense jaw that his patience is also fading by the second. They don’t kill unnecessarily and Chan doesn’t want the bad karma on his territory but there are exceptions to every rule.

“Listen mate, unless you’re gonna answer the questions, you’re welcome to spend the next week back out in the Dustbowl.”

That seems to shake their visitor out of his stupor. Chan knows all too well that the only fate as bad as captivity in a citadel is to be let loose in the desert with no water or supplies. Death is all but inevitable. 

“No! Wait. Don’t send me back out there by myself again. I swear, I didn’t mean to do it!”

“Do what?”

The visitor pulls himself to sit down against a pillar and when he looks at Chan in the eyes, there’s a hard defiant glare there that is completely unexpected for someone with three weapons aimed at their head. 

“I tried to take an oil rig over in the East Block.”

There’s an uncharacteristic snort of disbelief to his right and Chan isn’t even sure how to respond himself. 

“You and what army?”

“Just me.”

“Are you crazy in the head or you just got a deathwish?”

“It was mine! I won it fair and square!”

“You won an oil rig?”

“Yeah. I’m pretty good at Desert Poker.”

He blames it on being around each other for far too long but Chan can tell the exact moment when Changbin has heard enough and is ready to kick the visitor back into the desert and bolt the gates behind him. 

But Chan also knows that Changbin is nothing if not a pack animal.

And pack animals always wait for the pack alpha, so Chan presses on.

“You can drive a rig?”

“Of course, I’m not stupid.” Comes the snotty reply and Chan has got to hand it to their visitor, this kid has balls of steel. 

“How many kill switches are there?”

“Six. But the newer models can go up to eight, if you got the money for it.”

“What are you, some kind of annoying mechanic?”

“Yeah.” The visitor grins at him, black eye, split lip and all. His outward cockiness cracking for a moment to reveal the uncertain smile of a lost kid. 

“Cut him.” Changbin whispers beside him. “This isn’t worth it.”

9 out of 10 times Chan would agree. 9 out of 10 times they think alike and execute the same plan. It’s how they’ve been able to survive and maintain their meagre territory. It’s not very much, and probably deemed worthless by the bigger factions, but 9 out of 10 times their teamwork and partnership is how they’ve managed to have anything at all.

But this is that 1 out of 10. 

There’s something different Chan sees in the visitor’s eyes but more than that, there’s something very familiar. He saw it in Changbin then Felix. He’s seen it in himself. It’s not desperation, he sees that all the time, everyone is desperate in the Dustbowl. This is longing. For safety. For protection. For peace. For belonging. 

“Which district has your loyalty?”

“The one that doesn’t take a pint of my blood every 3 weeks.” The visitor pulls up his shirt and scrubs at his skin to reveal a dark black “B” inked onto this chest.

A phantom ache surfaces along Chan’s forearms. “You’re a War Dog Bio-Donor.”

“Ah, so you heard of us. You gonna try and blood bag me? Because I gotta tell you, they kinda bled me dry last time.”

“No, we don’t do that here. Whose blood is on you?”

“My sister’s.” The visitor says too quietly. “I buried her yesterday.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Changbin curses beside him, taking a step back and lowering his crossbow a fraction before signalling Bear to heel.

Chan pulls the scarf off his face and has to agree with the sentiment. 

“I’m sorry.” He says, his mind already made up now. “You got a name?”

“Does it matter if you’re going to kill me anyway?”

Chan smirks for some reason, maybe there’s something in him that enjoys collecting broken strays like this and seeing them learn to become human again. He’s down it twice now. He can do it again. 

“No name, no entrance mate.”

There’s shock in the visitor’s eyes, followed by confusion, conflict, trust and anti-trust. But in the end, shelter from the Dustbowl is too powerful a hope. 

“It’s...Han.”

[ironemrys]

Here Be Rejects and Weirdos 

pairings/relationships: familial DRLAMP, background Logicality I guess.

tw: blood and gore I guess. cursing. that's pretty much it. 

notes: no context. just a random thought. is this a super hero AU? idk. probably not. 

--

What's hard about being a mutant? Is it the creepy scientists who wants to experiment on you? Is it the political unrest caused by people who are pro mutant and anti mutant? Is it the judging look people give you once they realize you're not human? 

For Logan, it wasn't necessarily those things mentioned above. Nope. It's not even the fact that most people see his kind as weirdos and rejects. Those without a place in the world because they're different. 

He was used to being told that he was different so it didn't matter to him. No. What's hard about being a mutant is adopting and raising mutant children. 

Or in his case, four chaotic teenage mutants. God if Splinter could see him now. But let's not dive into that side of the universe. 

Anyway, despite the fact that the teenagers can sometimes drive him crazy, Logan didn't mind. In fact, he loved the idea that these teenagers rely on him and look to him as a mother figure. 

He says mother because the father role is taken up by his partner, Patton. 

Now Patton, at first glance, doesn't look like he's different from normal human beings unlike the other mutants who you could obviously tell. His mutation enables him to cure injuries both minor and major. The only thing different about him is that his hair tends to change their colors whenever he's using his powers. They're naturally brown but they would turn white when he's healing someone else and they would turn golden when he's healing himself. It's weird, he knows. But whatever, he's a mutant. 

Logan also at first glance looked more human than the rest of the mutants. The only distinct feature he has is when a series of coded tattoos would start to appear on his forehead down to his eyelids whenever he's using his power. 

It has been a while since he last used his abilities. Mentoring and training four teenagers didn't really require much from his mutation. 

Logan's mutation allows him to see and feel another mutant's presence. He could tell just by looking at them how strong they are, how powerful they could get and what their weaknesses are. With this vast knowledge on other mutants, Logan uses his degree in engineering to create weapons that could protect him and his family from other mutants who would want to harm them. 

Because let's face it, there are those out there who would dare. 

Anyway, Logan sat in his workshop and mumbled incoherent Tagalog to himself as he continued to work on the modifications on one of the teen's suits because of course he would create protective suits for his boys. They are mutants but they're children, they're his children. 

It was well past ten in the evening but he knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep if he didn't finish his work. He's not one to put off a project that he knows he can finish sooner rather than later. 

The sliding door on his right caught his attention when it opened with a bang and three teenagers ran inside followed by Patton. 

"Logan! Someone's captured Remus!" a red eyed red haired teenager yelled in alarm. 

"how is that possible?" Logan asked, raising his eyebrow. 

"Him and Roman were on their way back from patrol and me and Janus were supposed to meet them when we were attacked! They were from the opposition, I recognized their badges! What do we do!?" a purple haired teenager replied frantically as tendrils of shadows started to form by his feet.

Of course, not everyone is for the idea of mutants coexisting with the humans. So aside from the usual villain mutants, Logan and his family also had to deal with the human dictators who only had one thing in their mind: to purge and cleanse the world by removing the anomaly. The anomaly being them, the mutants.

"Virgil, honey…" Patton said and soothed his back. 

"Virgil, calm down." Logan reminds him and the teen took a deep breath, shuddering.

"But why would they only take Remus?" Patton then asked once Virgil relaxed. He fixed his round eyeglasses on his face and looked warily at his partner. 

"I mean if they were from the opposition then shouldn't they have captured all of them? And even if they were only interested in the wolves, why didn't they take Roman as well?" he added, gesturing to the red head. 

"Roman hasn't fully shifted, Patton. The opposition has hunters and hunters could tell if you're a fully grown werewolf or not. Besides, Remus is an Alpha. An Alpha has high value in the black market. Roman has yet to know his standing since his transition is incomplete." Logan concludes. 

"so they're gonna sell him?!" A brown haired teen with green scales on one side of his face hissed in disgust. 

"probably." Logan replied and turned to his computer. "where did you last see him?" he asked before putting up a map of the city. 

"we were attacked a few blocks away from the usual post." Virgil replied. He was trying his best to calm down. The last time he had a panic attack the entire mansion got covered in darkness and it was not a happy memory. 

But how can he calm down when one of them has been captured. Sure, they all had these different abilities that will give them the upper hand against the opposition but they were also teenagers, they are still in training and they are young. Obviously, they had a lot to learn. 

Also, they were outrageously outnumbered when they were attacked.

"Did you try finding him using your magic, Janus?" Patton asked the scaly teen. 

"I did but the hunters had magic users with them when they attacked us and I could tell that they're blocking my magic right now." Janus answered. 

"They had magic users? Now that's new." Patton commented. Indeed it was, the opposition usually housed humans, so why would they have mutant magic users at their disposal?

"I can't trace him with the shadows too. Either they're in a very well lit area or my range is just too short." Virgil responds. 

"His scent was gone as soon as I woke up." Roman added as he bit his fingers in anxiousness. 

He didn't like being separated from his twin. No matter how much they get on each other's nerves, they love and care for one another. To be honest, if Roman was to be asked, he would've hunted down the assholes who took his brother the moment the three of them woke up from being knocked out.

However, since Janus was the eldest foster kid, the decision on what to do next had to come from him. 

"Roman, there is no need to worry. Remus is very capable in taking care of himself." Logan then says when an incoming video call pops up on the monitor. 

"hello, mutant scum." A man Logan recognized as a hunter from the opposition greeted him as soon as he answered. 

"Hunter." Logan acknowledged as he fixed his glasses on his face. He could hear Janus and Virgil hiss from behind him. 

"Hey you asshole! Where's Remus?! Where's my brother!?" Roman yelled in distress and Patton had to hold him back. The red head was baring his fangs and his fingers were turning into claws. 

"He's right here, cub." the man replied with a grin and turned the camera to show Remus. 

The green haired teenager was bound to a chair with silver chains. He was banged up and gagged. His hair was disheveled and his eyes were glaring daggers at his captor. 

"what do you want with him?" Patton asks. 

"well at first we were going to kill him in front of a lot of people, you know, for kicks." The hunter sneered and Roman growled in anger. 

"Then we thought why not sell his body parts to the black market? This one's an Alpha and that's really rare nowadays. And there are a lot who would pay good money just to see you burn." The man added while playing with the white streak on Remus' hair. 

"BASTARD!!" Janus yelled angrily as he took a step forward but Logan held on his shoulder to calm him down. 

"But then we figured, hey we can make more money if we hold him for ransom since isn't he under the protection of the famous Guardian? The same Guardian who proposed the coexisting of humans and mutants?" the man said and they could hear laughter from other people in the background.

"yeah. We know all about you and your foster kids. You really think that you guys joining together will create a family? You're no family. You're what's wrong with this world.." the man said and smirked at Logan who surprisingly didn't care about what the hunter was saying. Instead, he turned his attention to Remus. 

"Remus, are you alright?" He asked and Remus made eye contact with him through the monitor. 

"He can't answer you right now. He's busy trying not to die." The hunter replied. 

"it's a shame we didn't take the puppy too. We could've made more money with two werewolves." He laughed maniacally and they heard Remus mumble something through the gag in his mouth. 

"What?" The hunter asked and pulled away the gag. 

"I said," Remus coughed but then he glared at the hunter, "you fuckers better leave my brother alone." 

"Ha! We could have your brother if we wanted to, you imbecile! He's weaker and easier to kill. Add that half snake and winged demon and we can have dough that could last us for years. Although they're not really worth much unlike your kind." the men around them laughed loudly that they missed the growl rising from Remus' throat. 

"Please don't kill him." Logan sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose but the men only laughed harder at his words. 

"You think you can beg for the life of this monster? You are disgusting. You're rejects. You're abnormal, you're experiments gone wrong. Listen, you don't get to make demands here, Guardian. You failed watching over your so called band of misfits and-"

"I wasn't talking to you." Logan cuts him off when they hear the breaking of chains followed by a ferocious growl. 

The hunters turn around as Remus shakes off the silver chains. He raises his head and flashes them a toothy, albeit scary, smile. 

"You see, what you hunters don't know is that Remus and Roman aren't ordinary werewolf mutants. They're mutant hybrids." Logan starts, fixing his glasses again, "which means that those silver chains? they're pretty much like chew toys for the likes of him." 

Remus transformed. His pale skin turned a darker color, his hair grew longer and down to his waist, his usually green eyes were brighter and his fingernails were the shape of claws. He got on all fours and once he growled, the hunters eyes went wide. 

There was a scream and the tearing sounds of flesh as Remus destroyed everything and everyone in the room. The laptop where the call was still ongoing got turned over right next to a severed head. 

"subdue him!" they heard someone yell and they could see more people from the opposition appear and attack Remus.

"it's the magic users." Janus hissed. 

"we have to help him!" Roman yelled then there was a beep in one of the monitors. A red dot blinked rapidly at the map in front of them.

Apparently, Logan had started tracing the call, the minute the hunters called them.

"Go." He then said and gave a nod to Janus who materialized a black staff out of nowhere. He chanted in an ancient language as his eyes turned yellow. There was a flash of light and then the three teenagers were gone. 

Remus dodged a magic spell thrown at him by one of the hunter's peers. He growled lowly and was cornered to a wall when the lights went out.

"About damn fucking time!" He yelled when the people around him started yelling profanities at something that was attacking them in the dark. 

"MONSTER!" someone yelled and raised a knife to stab Remus from behind but there came another growl on the right and the assailant was immediately tackled to the ground. 

The lights then came back on and Remus saw that most of the hunters and their magician friends were down on the ground. He licks the blood off his fingers as he transforms back to his normal form. 

"good job." Janus comments as his staff dematerializes. He brushes off his cloak and turns to Virgil who was still clouded by his shadows. 

"Vee? We're all good." He called and the shadows immediately disappear to reveal their youngest.

"god fuck. These assholes ruined my day." Remus then says.

"well, you got them back so I guess you're even." Janus replies.

"let's go home. I'm hungry." Remus says as he watches Roman revert back to his human form. 

"I'll do it." Virgil says and his eyes turn a dark shade of purple before they all get consumed by the shadows.

"well that was fun." Remus grins, his teeth yellow and bloody because of the fight. 

"yes, I could tell." Logan replies as the teenagers step out of Virgil's shadows. 

"ugh. You stink, Remus." Roman then comments. 

"not as stinky as your breath!" Remus retorts and smothers Roman's face with his bloodied hands. 

"GROSS! YOU'RE A DISGUSTING HUMAN BEING!!!" Roman whines.

"We're not human, you genius!" Remus cackles, "You, for instance, are a bitch!" he adds and dodges the clawed hand of his brother. 

"you take that back!" Roman demands but before they could get in another fight, Patton stepped in to stop them.

"Alright now kiddos. Now that we have Remus back, it's time you all get some rest. Remus, I'm glad you're okay." He smiles in relief. 

"Of course pop. I was just caught off guard. Won't happen again. Unless of course some hunter is dumb enough to cross hybrids again." the teen shrugs. 

"Right. Now go and take a bath. And off to bed. All of you." Patton replies and the rest of the teenagers pile out but not before Remus makes another off hand comment. 

"besides I think now they'll be too scared since Roman showed his ugly face."

"UGLY?? I'M UGLY?! WE'RE TWINS YOU STUPID GENIUS!"

"god shut up!" Janus yells at both of them before flicking his wrist, causing the twins to be bound tightly in ropes. 

"Why is this my family?" Virgil sighs but there was a soft smile on his face as he watches Janus levitate the twins to their rooms. 

Patton then turns to Logan who shuts off his workstation as well. 

"I was wondering why you were so calm. Usually you would've been just as bad as me if one of the boys went missing." He says and Logan lets a grin form on his mouth. 

"I know their potential, Patton. I am The Guardian after all."

--

meh. this is the thought process of someone who's been indulging themselves in superhero shit along with Sanders Sides.