#even if the ball was barrelling into me at top speed

[simonstamenovic]

hmm

[holy-puckslibrary]

━ 𝐚𝐥𝐥-𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐨 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬.

main masterlist

pairing(s) — bull-rider!MATTHEW TKACHUK x barrel racer!hughes!reader (can be read as an unnamed oc) wc — 1.8k synopsis — wear the hat, ride the cowboy—even if it might get you disowned.

note — there's one line referring to the reader as jack's twin, but no physical description is given. also, this one-shot is a "party favor" from our feb slumber party

specific content warnings under the cut.

cw — quinn being a dramatic, misogynistic douche-canoe 3000 for the entirety (ratty matty has his moments, too), no actual smut but it's heavily implied they do the dirty on the reg, a disgustingly intimate situationship — ick, off-color comment(s) relating to first times and the concept of virginity, lots and lots of familial angst (jack is a snake), oh! and more than a few loose ends... but you know the drill by now, i'm incapable of keeping a story contained

“Go on, Palomino Princess. Ride me like one of your ponies.” 

Condescension drips from the lazy taunt. Matthew earns a palm to the chest for it; her ire lands with a faint thud, but he doesn’t mind. He gets off on riling her up, and after two years of backseat meetings and hushed phone calls, he’s damn good at it too. That, and she might be the most reactive person he’s ever met—and that’s saying something. 

Matthew’s been going head-to-head with all three of her brothers for over a decade, and he’s known their family for even longer. Having a short fuse must be genetic.    

“Y’won’t break me if that’s the hold-up. S’gonna take a hell of a lot more than a dry humpin’ buckle bunny to put me outta commission, sweetheart.” 

He knows damn well she ain’t anywhere close to the derogatory term, but he likes what the complete disregard for her accomplishments does to her deceptively cherubic face. 

It may look less harrowing than every other event on the card, but barrel racing ain’t for the faint-hearted. The event is a death wish personified, and it feels about as good as someone taking a metal pipe to both shins. It takes balls—metaphorically, in her case—to charge into an arena on an American Quarter horse with the intention of guiding it through a cloverleaf pattern around three barrels while sprinting at top speed, but it takes dedication and skill to succeed the way she has. The winner is determined by just thousandths of a second. 

The woman perched on his tailgate is unmatched—undefeated.  

Flames of pride lap at his loins, the fire of desire stoked by the wicked roll of her hips. 

“Ohh—shit!” Matthew hisses, his head lolling back as his hips buck into her heat. 

She smirks, apparently vindictive as ever. “How’s that, cowboy? Everything you dreamed?” 

“And more,” he growls as he grabs a fistful of her backside. 

His grip is tighter than it needs to be as he switches positions. Not nearly as rough as she would prefer it; beggars can’t be choosers.  

Matthew steps between her knees, and, despite herself, she shivers with anticipation. Chuckling, amusement twinkles in his baby blues. “Now give me a kiss, sweetheart. My lips are feelin’ a little lonely tonight, and you happen to be wearin’ my hat, Little Miss.” 

He flicks the brim of his hat. She catches it before it hits the ground before plopping it back on the rightful owner, the damage already done.  

“You just love that antiquated rule,” she shakes her head while most definitely laughing at his expense. “Y’wouldn’t see any action without it, now would you?” 

Matthew grins. Trading insults is his favorite form of foreplay. “Neither would you. Isn’t that your signature move, outlaw?”

“I should kick you to the back of the line with that attitude. Hell, I’d probably be better off keeping you at a distance anyway.” 

“Keep mouthin’ off and see how far it gets ya. Definitely nowhere near that McMansion castle you call home, that’s for sure.” 

“Oh, don’t you worry ‘bout me, sugar. I’ve got plenty of options if I need a ride home.” 

“I’ll bet, show pony. Sexiest can chaser east of the Mississippi; who wouldn’t be chomping at the bit to carry Cinderella home to her Daddy?” 

Men have a habit of gawking at her; Matthew has a habit of relieving them of their teeth. 

He leans in to taunt her ear with greedy lips and barbed arrogance. “Best of luck finding one that’ll fuck you better than me.”     

“Do you think about other guys fucking me often?” she fires without missing a beat.

More than he would like, actually.

With a heavy, drawn-out sigh, he runs a hand over his face. His patience is running thin, and his jeans are starting to chafe. Exasperated, he tries coaxing her to reason, “Sweetheart, c’mon. We both know you want this—want me. Stop makin’ this so damn hard.” 

“Why? Because you already are?” 

Matthew makes an exaggerated show of play-biting her scrunched-up nose. 

“Woman, you drive me insane.”

“It’s why you’re so obses—“ 

Her teasing is thwarted by the sound of her own name. Spat out of her older brother’s mouth like a heirloom gone sour, it's no great surprise Quinn looks at her like he can’t recognize her. Like a stranger—like a traitor. 

Guilt, thin and fleeting, pieces the tenderness between her ribs. 

She squirms, attempting to put some distance between them as if that could erase the discovery—and her culpability—from his mind. Matthew and his shit-eating grin keep her from getting too far but don’t be fooled. This is no chivalrous encouragement to stand her ground. It’s got nothing to do with her and everything to do with her brother. 

Quinn rages outside the hauler housing Matthew’s precious 3500 Laramie. Walking by, seeing the main trailer hitched Brady’s F-350 made his stomach churn. It didn’t sit right, and now he knew why. 

“You can’t be serious! Nuh-uh, no—no fucking way. Get out here before I drag you out myself.”  

At his tone, what little remorse she felt dissipates. They were both far too old for his tired, overbearing song-and-dance. 

“Who died and made you king?” 

Quinn, blinded by overripe anger, sweeps over the irritation, twisting her tongue and the disbelief arching her brow. “I thought I made myself clear last time. Don’t make me repeat myself.” 

“Oh, crystal, Quinny.” Matthew snorts at the juvenile nickname but is swiftly cajoled into silence with a pinch to the side. “Message received.” 

“Then quit screwin’ around and get your ass back to the truck before Dad blows a gasket. He’s been lookin’ all over for you. So, you best be thanking your lucky stars I got here first. That its me catchin’ you red-handed colluding with the enemy.” 

He’s so serious, nearly shaking with rage, it’s difficult not to laugh. She can count on one hand the instances wherein her brother became visibly angry—all of them involving the man standing between her dangling feet. She fares better than him, but that’s to be expected. Unlike her accomplice, for her, there’s real risk involved. 

“Just ‘cause I heard you don’t mean I have to listen.” 

Lips pressed to her temple, Matthew clicks his tongue in approval. ‘Bout damn time she started giving back what Quinn so readily dishes out. 

“Look, y’can spread your legs for anyone with big dreams and a buckle some other night. Parade around the circuit acting like a slut, see if I give a shit. But not tonight. And not with him.” 

The knowing glint in Quinn’s blackened eyes is telling, but it isn’t as menacing as he thinks it is. The Hughes heir apparent couldn’t be judge, jury, and executioner. He doesn’t have a lick of proof. Just suspicion and a personal vendetta the size of Texas. 

A safety net swaying below, Matthew decides to have a little fun. “Whoa, settle down, Trust Fund. Y’can’t talk to a lady like that, ‘specially not your sister.” 

He’s no white knight, but he can pretend. 

And isn’t that what you’re all doing? Pretending to be people you aren’t. Acting out your roles, putting on a show. After all, a performance will always be more entertaining than the truth. 

“—and here I thought etiquette classes were a Rodeo Royalty rite of passage. Glad t’know she ain’t the only roughneck hellion in your family tree, Huggy.” 

Quinn’s jaw tightens. His tongue threatens to put a hole through his cheek. Hands on his hips, the eldest sibling only nods. He ignores Matthew entirely. 

“Real winner y’got there. A class act. You really know how to pick ‘em—cream of the goddamn crop. Say, what’re you gonna do when he inevitably gets bored of you? When he gets his hands on a fresh doe-eyed virgin to tarnish?” 

After she finishes with Matthew, she’s kicking Jack’s sorry ass. 

Those anxieties—and that majorly personal tidbit of information—were shared in confidence. Because unlike her older brother, she trusted her twin. Well, she used to, at least. Luke’ll be over the moon at the chance to be her favorite. 

She bares her teeth like a scorned lapdog. “We’re not kids anymore, Q. You can’t push me around whenever you want or tell me what to do like you’re my father. And you sure as shit can’t bully me into submission, either. Give it up, or get lost.” 

“Whatever,” Quinn barks as he backs away from the trailer. “Your fuckin’ funeral.” 

Listening to the fading sound of her brother’s Ariats pounding through the dirt, she buries her face in the warm, familiar crook of Matthew’s neck; she needs a moment alone. He seems to understand this, his mouth zipped shut as he runs calloused hands up and down her sides. She’s breathing heavily, but he does her the simple mercy of leaving it be. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I was growing on you,” Matthew hums, a low-maintenance attempt to lighten the mood. 

They don’t do the touchy-feely BS. It’s one of the things that reeled him in—and kept him coming back. 

“But you do.” She pulls away to look up at him, chin resting on his sternum. He hates that her melancholic eyes are red-rimmed. “—and stop thinking, it doesn’t suit you.” 

“And what does, princess? I’m dyin’ for your insight.” 

“Shut the door and I’ll show you.” 

He blinks, taken aback. Who is this brazen tart, and when did she take your place? Matthew wonders to himself. Maybe he is the bad influence everyone paints him as… He hasn’t really thought about it until now, and it's troubling the way it makes his chest tighten. 

Matthew clears his throat—and, from his mind, the distressing notion that he’s ruined someone good with his carelessness—as he leans over. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

He pulls the hauler’s heavy metal door shut with clamorous finality.  

Matthew Tkachuk might be the most self-serving swindler on dirt, but Quinn Hughes is just another name on his list. A box to tick and then forget. He wouldn’t lose sleep, it wasn’t like their friendship meant a damn thing. Not anymore. A friend turned foe, reduced to another obstacle in his way, a hurdle to jump. 

Tonight, his sister’s fealty; tomorrow, his title.

Retribution is at his fingertips, so close he can taste it. Yet, it would seem that Matthew merely traded one hornet’s nest for another. 

At least this one’s easy on the eyes. 

⤑ to my inbox💌

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All of the stories and fantasies written or discussed on this blog by the owner or by followers are purely fictional and are not intended to offend any parties.

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[shimmerbeasts]

RP: Found Culprit

"What?! Are you telling me you, brat, do not even have the galls to finish me after all of this?!"

Despite the man's attempt to yell as loudly as possible, his voice was hoarse and shaky. His body had exhausted itself screaming in agony over the last couple of hours. He was marked by signs of torture. Bruises, the size of balled fists and knuckle imprints bloomed across his torso, belly and back. One of his eyes had swollen shut, blood dropped from a busted, split lip and his hair had a sweaty dampness to it.

The man was kneeling on the floor with thick ropes binding his hands behind his back. The cap of one of his knees had jumped out to the side, making the entire knee swell and turn dark purple-blue. It stood in stark contrast to the man's chalk-whiteness.

Jinx had disappeared outside of the front door of the almost empty warehouse. As soon as she had left, Sevika turned around with a far greater speed than expected. The brown woman crossed the space between her and the man, whose nose was still crusted up with the snot of his not-yet-healed disease. Without any hesitation, Sevika shoved two of her metal talons into his nostrils and pushed his head up. The sharp metal cut and irritated the slimy tissue and the man let out a sudden wail.

"She's not a brat", Sevika spat out, "She's the boss's daughter! You watch your mouth around her."

She scowled as she inspected the sniffling man below her before she eased her claws out of his nose. The man sneezed, his body bending forward as if he wanted to protect his vital organs and his face from the sharp metal arm hovering far too close for personal comfort.

However, he wasn't even granted that comfort for as he curled in on himself, the Chompers attached to his belly sunk their iron teeth deeper into his exposed flesh. Tears welled up in his eyes before he uncurled himself. The grenades continued to jiggle in him but remained blissfully untriggered. His dried blood had mixed with the smell of the urine, he must have let go off in the early hours of torture.

Sevika scoffed in disappointment. The men working for other Chem-Barons became more lacklustre as time dragged on. Silco was right. The whole rabble had turned into parasites, dulling their claws and fangs in the process. Lowlife vermin, which could not even stick to something as simple as a quarantine during the Sickly Months for their safety. And look where it had gotten them!

"A word of advice:", Sevika spoke and her lips pulled into an unfriendly smile, dark eyes blackening with bile, "Once Silco finds out who's behind his current state, you are going to wish that Jinx in her impulsivity had just killed you."

The door to Silco's office was open with such gusto that it banged loudly against the opposite wall. Only one person would ever have the courage and nerve to barge into the Eye of Zaun's office unannounced and unhindered like that, and that very same person was now standing in the doorway, her chest heaving for she had sprinted from the docks all the way back to The Last Drop.

Where Sevika was tall and a muscular, dark behemoth, Jinx was small, lean and as pale as a ghost. The only stark detail about her appearance was her long cobalt-blue braids, which swayed behind her trembling legs like the nervous tail of a cat. She was dressed in punkish attire from a black tank top to purple striped pants to purple sleeves, ending in a pair of dark, finger-less, leather gloves with golden brass on the knuckles.

Right now, Jinx looked even more dirty than she was anyhow from her experiments and misfiring explosions, covering her in soot and smudges of ash. Her utility belt missed two Chompers and Zapper's barrel tip was darkened from dried up blood. Some blobs still trickled down the edge. Jinx's huge, sapphire-blue eyes were darting around, looking for Silco with an expression of concern, alarm and excitement.

Back when Silco had gotten infected with Noxian Flu from an envoy from another, back then unidentified territory, Jinx had been in a lot of alarm. Most diseases during the Sickly Months could bear quite the fatal results. However, Singed had assured her that with enough Shimmer, some additional medicine as well as lots of rest, her father would recover swiftly, provided he stayed quarantined.

It had only been a couple of days ago that the eerie doctor deemed Silco healthy enough to come back to The Last Drop to do some mild work. Yet even so, Sevika had pulled double duty to ensure none of Silco's plans were delayed. The gang had also done its hardest to ensure that the common people had no idea that the Eye of Zaun had gotten sick to the point he had been bedridden for weeks.

Even so, it was still hard for Jinx to see her father in the state, he was in now. Silco could work mostly normally, however, he still relied on a highly decorative cane to get from one place to the next. Still, the Doctor had said that her Papa had survived the worst of the disease and was well on his way to recovery.

Jinx tried to steady her excitement. Letting the door fall shut behind herself, she rushed over to the desk and with hands slamming upon the wood, she leaned forwards, balancing on the tip of one foot, the other leg kicking up, as Jinx announced with a bright smile:

"WE FOUND THE CULPRIT, PAPA! He works for Finn!"

Starter for @zaunseye.

[talkfastromance4]

If we’re talking hockey! Calum. I need to see some angst amongst the fairy tale. Like if he loses an important game and takes his frustration on her and she leaves.

Oof you know I love me song angst.

It’s always a big game against the Boston Bruins. For years it’s been a ‘friendly’ rivalry between the Kings and Bruins and Calum was on edge along with the rest of his team.

While he was skating along the ice he faintly heard the announcers calling out their names and the uproar that erupted when his name was called. He scans behind the glass in search of y/n and when he finally finds you, he picks up his speed. You shift so you’re at the opening and he skids to a stop.

“Hey tiger,” you greet with a smile. “How’re you feeling?”

“Amped up,” he grunts tapping his stick on the ice.

“You’ve got this. Do you have my scrunchie?” you bounce on the balls of your feet.

“Of course,” he cracks a smile. “I can’t play without it, or without a kiss from my girl.”

You tilt his helmet up so it’s resting on his forehead and meet him in the middle for a kiss. You’re used to the fans cheering every time you do this but you hope you never get used to the feeling you get whenever you kiss Calum.

“C’mon man,” Michael taps him on the shoulder quickly then skates away.

Calum breaks away and you pull his helmet back into place.

“Go get ‘em, tiger.”

“Thanks Princess.”

It’s a rough game with a lot of fights, a few of them involving Calum and some guy named Fuller from the Bruins team. You hated when he got into fights because you think back on when he tore his MCL. Sometimes in fights helmets get knocked off and fists connect with faces.

The Kings had so many ‘almost’ shots to score but ultimately, the Bruins won by scoring with the last five minutes left. The atmosphere shifted in the arena as fans were disappointed by the loss and a few cheers were heard from the random Bruins fans in attendance.

Before the teams left the ice, another fight broke out and you were shocked to see it was Calum and the Fuller guy again. Michael pulled Calum away and you shuffled out of your seat so you could wait for him.

It’s tradition for the team and their significant others to eat at The Jolly Barrel, The JB for short whether they won or lost a game. The team is sullen as they drink their beers and poke at the appetizers as you make your way towards Calum. You rest your chin on his shoulder.

“Hey Princess,” he grunts.

“Hi tiger. I’m sorry about the game,” you sit in the stool next to him.

“Yeah…me too,” he takes a big chug of his beer. He sets the bottle down then nods to the bartender for another one.

“Are you hurt at all?” you hedge and try to meet his gaze but he keeps his eyes on the bar top.

“No.”

“What was that last fight about with that Fuller guy?”

“He was talking shit and I was sick of it.”

“You shouldn’t let him get to you–”

“He was talking about you so I shut him up,” he snaps and you recoil.

“Oh.” You look around the bar, nodding to Michael and his girlfriend Crystal. “Have you eaten?”

“Not hungry.”

“You should eat something, even if it’s small like a banana. Do you want water?”

“No, y/n,” he sighs, “I don’t want a banana or gatorade or water.”

You’re not used to him acting like this, he’s lost games before but he’s never treated you this offhandedly. He’s very withdrawn and keeping you at arm’s length.

“Okay…um, do you want to relax at your apartment?”

“No.”

“We can talk about–”

“Damnet, y/n, enough all right?” he snaps finally looking at you. The bar goes a little quiet. “I’m in a piss mood and I don’t need you to try and fix everything. So let me be pissed, all right? Your glass may always be full but sometimes it’s half empty for the rest of us.”

You’re frozen in surprise. He’s never spoken to you like this. You feel ashamed and embarrassed that his whole team witnessed it but more importantly, you feel hurt.

Then anger quickly rolls in and you hop down on your feet.

“Excuse me for caring about your well-being and wanting to help you. You lost, it sucks but that doesn’t give you a right to speak to me like this.”

You voice waivers and cracks as you defend yourself. A beat passes and he turns away. The tears don’t fall until you’re running out the bar in humiliation.

***

As you practice your routine, you replay the other night over and over again in your mind. The words Calum bit at you left a mark in you that kept hurting. When you got home from the bar you silenced your phone and when you woke up to see no messages from Cal, your heart broke.

After your practice, you quit a half hour early because you weren’t focusing. As you left the ice and exited the tunnel, you spotted Calum leaning against the tunnel entrance. The way he’s looking at you reminds you of a dog with it’s tail between it’s legs when it’s done something wrong. His expression appeases you slightly but you were the one he bit so you walk past him.

“Princess, wait, I need to talk to you.”

“I don’t need to talk to you.”

“Please, it’s about the other night–”

“Oh, you have more hurtful things to say? Where’s the team?” You look behind him in search of them, “or can you do it without an audience?”

“Princess–stop!” he stands in front of you blocking your way to the locker room. “I was a total ass and a dickhead to you and I’m so so sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I said because it isn’t true. I was frustrated and I took it out on you and that was wrong of me.”

You stare at him and see how sincere he is, his brown eyes are sad and pleading.

“It really hurt me, what you said,” you whisper.

“I know,” his shoulders cave in, he stops closer to you. “I know and I hate myself for it. Please, can you forgive me? I love how caring you are and how you want to make sure I’m okay. Please, Princess, I’ll do anything.”

You look at him in thought.

“I know I can be a little overbearing sometimes…just tell me when I am and I’ll stop–”

“No,” he rests his hands on your shoulders. “You’re perfect just the way you are. I promise I won’t act like that ever again.”

“You’ll never be angry? That’s impossible, Cal. Be angry, just don’t treat me like a punching bag when I’m on your team.”

“I won’t,” he shakes his head, his fingers trail up to your neck cradling your face in his hands. “I’m so sorry I hurt you, Princess.”

“I’m sorry I was being so pushy.”

You smile at each other and embrace each other at the same time, you inhale his cologne deeply. The steady beat of his heart is music to your ears.

⛸️🏒⛸️🏒

Taglist: @calumance  @in-superbloom @calpalirwin @karajaynetoday @wiiildflowerrr @sunshineeeluke @littledrummeraussie @suchalonelysunflower @hoodhoran @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt @sunshineeashton @ashtonsunflower​ @mymindwide​ @itjustkindahappenedreally @seanna313 @mulletcal @pandaxnienke @celestialams @in-a-world-of-fandoms @blairscott @writersdare

[1poda]

She Hates Pirates! Pt.6

Pt.1

Pt.2

Pt.3

Pt.4

Pt.5

Pt.7

Pt.8

A furrow-browed Alba stormed her way through an empty dusty town road void of any life aside from a lowly tumbleweed which quickly bounced out of danger. 

With balled fists and a quick step she hurried to a stone-walled building which was the island's largest bar, it was also the only place barrelling with loud men who were yelling and growling in celebration. A shadow cast itself over her sight as she raised a leg to kick down its massive doors from its hinges, all life stilled as navy men paused in their delicious glugs of mutton and biting off fresh food that they had no doubt stolen. 

As the intruder stood before the grumbling crowd they began shouting insults and questions, asking why a little girl such as herself was fighting her way into such a dangerous area. The seemingly largest of them all stepped forward with a grin splitting through his shabby beard, leaning close he muttered "I suggest you leave soon girly- it's been a while since my men have been in such fine.... company" he giggled lowly as the monsters around him followed and stood from their comfortable seating. 

She didn't move, nor did the shadow. 

Fists kept alarmingly clenched as the female's limbs shuddered with the rage they withheld. 

The imposing being before her chuckled again as he landed a hand on her shoulder with a cruel smile "Now now, we’re the good guys here. There's no need to be afraid" 

His men began surrounding the entrance she had bullied to the ground, many still chortling to their friends as weapons were grabbed and pronounced in her sights. 

Luffy sat in a pile of bones and plates as their contents were inhaled and soon replaced by more fresh deliciousness, the Capitan crunched and munched without much to bother him until he glanced around the area of staggering men, some his own and other the islands, and his brows furrowed with a hum. 

"Wher'd Alba gor?" he forced through his packed cheeks, a hand on his straw hat as if it would help the monkey boy see further, the chef cooking from a large pot released a smoky breath "I don't know, last I saw she speaking to Nami and Robin" he stirred the large cauldron with and even larger ladle. 

Switching his confused stare from Sanji to the ginger looking at a map on a nearby table Luffy yelled through his piles "Heeeeeeeeeey NAMI!"

The navigator growled at his rudeness as her concentration broke "What Luffy? I'm in the middle of some very important work!" 

The Capitan blinked at his crewmate before taking another bite "Do you know where Alba is?" 

At his simple question Nami halted her rage for a moment and held a thoughtful hand to her chin "Hmmm, I'm not sure where she is, the last time I saw her she asked me and Robin what was happening on the island" 

It only took a split second for the dots to meet but both female members of the infamous straw had band gasped at their revelation "You.. don't think she went...?" 

"She went to fight the Marines all on her own" Robin finished the trembling Navigator's words "By the look in her eyes Alba knew exactly what was going on. That must been why she left without us spotting her" 

"GRRRRR THATS NO FAAAIR!!" the black-haired male yelled at the top of his voice in his angriest tone "She left to fight those guys without me! And withoUT BREAKFAST!!" Luffy roared at the betrayal before grabbing a red apple and racing toward the town, leaving a string of dust with ever-speeding footsteps. 

"Huh? She hasn't had breakfast?" Sanji suddenly nipped into the conversation before bouncing from his makeshift stove's side "DON'T WORRY ALBAAAAA! YOUR KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOUR IS COMING TO FEEEEED YOOOOOOU!!" 

The tornado chef was quick to follow the path his leader had left behind without any thought to the treats he left uncooked, Nami sighed as she took stock of their situation with fingers rubbing her temples "Zorro! I need you to wake up and go with them!" 

At her command the hung-over swordsman slithered a dirty stare from one groggy eye before mentioning that she should go with them herself, with a louder growl and threatening fist she demanded he leave right this second. 

"Alright already! Geez, can tell you didn't drink enough last night" 

Luffy raced down the main street of the small parts of town Alba had shown him, so with very little memory the straw-hatted fool held up an apple with one hand and yelled from the other, not having much luck pinpointing a location until a bright explosion came from further inside the town. While the island shook dangerously at its strength Luffy giggled delightfully and his grin couldn't stop growing. 

"What the hell was THAT?!" Zorro yelped from behind his Capitan as the chef couldn't stop staring at the tiny yet powerful explosion. Both gasped as Luffy somehow ran faster with a louder laugh. 

"It's Alba!!"

[pinkhairandpokemon]

Elite Four Rika VS. Ex-Champion Blake!

———

[LIVE VIDEO FEED STARTING…]

———

Blake and Rika are seen standing on opposite sides of the battle court in Levincia, preparing their Pokémon for battle.

Suddenly, the camera whirls around, revealing none other than the Levincia Gym Leader and famous streamer, Iono.

“BOO! Your eyeballs are mine! Caught in my Electroweb!” She suddenly exclaims, making a toothy grin at the camera. “‘Ello, ‘ello, hola! Ciao and bonjour! Surprised to see me? I know this isn’t my usual platform, but my old buddy-ol-pal Blake asked yours truly to record this match and lemme borrow their phone to do so! Gotta say, their phone case is severely lackin’ in stickers… Anywho, I hope you’re all ready for an all-out battle between an ex-champion of Galar and one of Paldea’s very own Elite Four!! ‘Course it won’t be as electrifying as my matches, but hey, it’s hard to leave the audience as starstruck as I do! Oh well, I’ll be commentating, so I bet you’ll all be left on the edge of your seats regardless! Nyhahaha!”

She turns the camera back to the court, and each side has already sent out their Pokémon of choice. On Blake’s side, their Inteleon stands proudly, his tail flicking from side to side. On Rika’s, her Donphan scraps its hoof across the ground, huffing in anticipation.

“Alright then Pinky, I’d give the first move, but…” Rika says with a relaxed smirk as she adjusts her glove. Then, in the blink of an eye, her expression turns serious. “I’m not feeling that nice today! Think fast! Iron Head!”

The Donphan bellows as a metal sheen coats the top of its head, before it charges towards Kappa at breakneck speed. With incredible reflexes, the Inteleon simply leaps high into the air just as the Ground-type barrels past, narrowly avoiding the attack.

Blake just smirks right back as they watch Kappa fall through the air.

“Nice try, but you can’t catch us off guard that easily,” Blake remarks, before flinging their hand out as they call out a move. “Use Night Slash!”

The audience gasps as dark energy begins to gather around Kappa’s hand, materializing into the shape of shadowy claws. He then dives down towards Donphan, slashing across its thick hide. The elephant Pokémon grunts in pain, but manages to stay standing as Kappa lands a few feet away.

“Who-ho-hoa!” Iono is heard behind camera. “Wowza! And here I thought Inteleon couldn’t learn Night Slash! Who woulda thought!”

Rika gives the Inteleon a calculating stare as she rubs her chin, like she has an idea forming. “Use Earthquake!”

With a stomp of Donphan’s foot, the ground begins to shake violently, and Kappa doesn’t have enough time to jump out of the way. The Inteleon grunts as he’s tossed around like a rag doll by the cracking earth, a glow beginning to envelop his body.

There’s another gasp from the crowd as “Kappa’s” form begins to shift as the Earthquake ends- leaving a Zoroark lying on the ground where he once was. The fox Pokémon rises to its feet with a disgruntled noise, brushing dirt off its black and red fur.

“HOLY GUACAMOLE! A Zzzoroark?! Now that’s a plot twist for the century folks!” Iono comments.

Blake sighs, but doesn’t seem too upset about their Pokémon’s true form being exposed. “Looks like the party tricks are over… Okay Nox, use Focus Blast!”

Nox leaps to the opposite side of the field, as far away from his opponent as he can get. Then, he begins charging a ball of light between his paws, concentrating intently on Donphan.

“Iron Head, quick!” Rika shouts out, and just like that, her Pokémon is charging at the Zoroark again with a reverberating battle cry.

Even so, Nox remains still, holding his ground as the Ground-type closes in. The orb of burning light in his paws gradually begins to grow larger, before finally, he unleashes it in a huge burst just as the Donphan’s attack is about to connect. The beam hits it mark, sending the elephant flying backwards and skidding across the field.

Rika visibly winces as her Pokémon is knocked into the side of the battle court, leaving a huge cloud of kicked up dirt. Once the dust settles a little, she jogs over to the Donphan’s collapsed form and crouches down beside it.

Donphan groans, lifting itself up a little as Rika places a firm pat on its head. “Atta girl, you did your best.” The Elite Four member chuckles, feeding Donphan a Sitrus Berry before recalling it to its ball. Clicking the Pokéball back onto her belt, she strolls back over to her side of the battlefield, tucking her hands into her pockets.

“Alright, first round’s yours, Pinky.” she says to Blake, already grabbing a second Pokéball and tossing it up and down a few times. “You won’t be getting me with that little illusion trick of yours again, though.”

Blake just smiles proudly as Nox rushes to their side, and they give him a gentle pat between the ears before looking towards Rika again. “Oh don’t worry, that’s not all I have up my sleeve.”

They toss out a Pokéball, and the actual Kappa bursts out. The Inteleon lands in a spy pose, before rising to his feet and placing a hand on his hip.

Rika’s next to send out her Pokémon- her ace as well, no less. Clodsire comes out in a burst of light, plopping onto the ground with a loud, throaty roar.

The next round kicks off almost immediately, with Kappa firing off a Snipe Shot and Clodsire blocking it with a Protect. This goes on for a while, the Pokémon throwing attacks back and forth, before Rika is seen grabbing something out of her pocket.

“Alright, let’s see if we can shake things up a bit…” she mutters, the Tera Orb in her hand beginning to shine. “Show ‘em how we do things the Paldea way, pal!”

With a flick of her wrist, she tosses the Tera Orb, and the camera shakes a little as a flash of light obscures the view. Soon, Clodsire is shown, a dazzling Ground-type Tera Jewel crowned upon its head.

Blake winces at the blinding light, holding their arm up to shield their eyes.

“Earthquake!”

The ground splits open once more in sparkling orange light with a slam of Clodsire’s flipper, small fissures cracking and moving underneath Kappa. Strengthened by the Tera energy, its power is doubled compared to last time. The Inteleon grimaces as the violent vibrations under his feet throw him off balance, causing him to tumble backwards.

The quakes cause another huge cloud of dust to rise, and it’s hard to see what’s happened to Kappa once the tremors settle. Rika grins, thinking she’s won- only for her jaw to drop when the dust dissipates once more, and finds an empty space where Kappa once was.

Unbeknownst to her, an invisible figure has begun to dart around the arena. Her eyes searching for the now absent Inteleon, she doesn’t see the thin outline of the Water-type’s form until it’s too late.

Kappa’s blue scales materializes in the air above Clodsire, his index finger pointed downwards. He fires another Snipe Shot directly at the base of its Tera Jewel, causing the mud fish to recoil back from the super-effective damage.

Kappa backflips away before Clodsire can do anything to retaliate, landing in a crouch as he readies himself for whatever his opponent has planned next.

Once Clodsire shakes off the attack, Rika tugs at her glove as she shouts out another command. “Use Toxic!”

At a surprising speed, Clodsire catches Kappa off guard and fires a blob of purple gunk his way. The Inteleon moves to dodge, but ends up getting splatted regardless. He hisses uncomfortably when the sludge makes contact with his skin, dark bags forming under his eyes as the poison sets in.

Blake curses under their breath, before reaching into their pocket. “Shit- okay, let’s wrap this up fast…”

They pull out their own Tera Orb, tossing it towards Kappa. In another brilliant flash of light, the Inteleon emerges with a fountain-shaped Tera Jewel on his head, his scales illuminated in a crystal sheen. Rika’s eyes light up in surprise for a moment, before an impressed smirk rises to her face.

“Use Hydro Cannon!”

“Throw ‘em off with Earthquake!”

Clodsire raises his fin, planning to knock its opponent off balance before he can take aim and build up his attack- but it underestimates just how quick Kappa is to react. Despite the poison slowing him down, the Inteleon manages to charge up a full-force Hydro Cannon and fires it towards Clodsire in a matter of milliseconds.

Clodsire cries out as the jet of water hits its mark, its Tera Jewel shattering on impact. The mud fish lets out a gurgle as it returns to normal and slumps to the ground, defeated.

“Aaaand that declares Blake-y our winner today!” Iono announces from behind the screen.

Rika appears taken aback by her loss, but eventually, accepts it with a huff as she rolls her eyes and gives a slow clap. While she strolls over to Clodsire’s side to make sure it’s okay, Blake jumps up in glee and runs to Kappa, tackle-hugging the lanky blue lizard as he reverts back from his Terastalization.

“That’s how it’s done, bud!” Blake laughs as they give their Inteleon an affectionate squeeze, before reaching into their bag and grabbing a Pecha Berry. Kappa trills in gratitude as he accepts it and bites into it, the effects of the poison beginning to drain away swiftly.

Rika strolls over to their side of the field, clipping Clodsire’s Pokéball back onto her belt before she extends her hand out to the shorter trainer. “Not bad, Pinky.” She smiles as she nods towards Kappa in acknowledgement, who towers beside his trainer. “I gotta say, that Inteleon of yours is quick on his feet. Guess I shouldn’t have expected any less from an ex-Champion’s ace, though.”

“Yeah, he’s definitely not gotten rusty,” Blake chuckles as they accept the handshake, the slightest hint of pink appearing on their face. “Y-you did great too, though!”

“It was an honor to battle you,” Nox suddenly speaks up, appearing besides Blake. The sound of the Zoroark’s illusion voice causes Rika to jump back a little in surprise.

“Gah-!” she yelps, but relaxes when she sees the black and red fox. “Uh- uh, yeah- good game?”

Chuckling at her reaction, Blake gives Nox a small scratch under the chin while returning Kappa to his ball with their other hand. They then turn to the camera, waving at the holder. “Thanks so much for recording it for us Iono, can I have my phone back?”

“Okie dokie!” Iono giggles, skipping over to the pair. She turns the camera back to her one last time, winking and making a peace sign. “Looks like that’z a wrap, folks! If you found that battle to be- bzzzt! -shocking, go smash that subscribe bu- Oh wait, this isn’t my account. Oh wellsies! Force of habit!”

“Iono…?”

“Yea yea, gimme a sec!” She looks away to make a shooing gesture at Blake. “BAM! Your eyeballs are mine- caught in my Electroweb! Whosawhatsit? Iono the Supercharged Streamer! Catch y’all later!”

With that, she finally hands the phone back to Blake. They and Rika are both seen looking down at the camera as Blake sighs, fumbling to turn off the recording. “Was she streaming? I just told her to take a video- oh well…”

———

[END OF LIVE VIDEO FEED]

———

[the-firebird69]

This is sold by Dan and several others and you'll see him in a movie trying to make it cuz tons of people start ordering it and you can't hardly make any of it I have this teeny stills and I can't make it out of that and other people trying to make it even Max can't seem to make moonshine and they figured out why it said the clothes don't want you to have just kind of alcohol for some reason it's not jet fuel and it's not spacial fuel it's like for cars and they're wondering why and they figured it out you get this huge boost from this kind of feel it's like top fuel and it doesn't do this in your motor and burns clean. Lots of cars can use it and they used to and they still do so wondering why they don't want it so I'm going to issue another form called clear and I sent it means and told me to and we're going to go after them using that. It's it's really really a boost it was very fast and you keep a few jugs with you if you need it you just loaded in and people don't know what it is and that's a really big reason right there cuz it works as gasoline too well sell a ton of it yes.

We have huge orders in already and our stuff is cheap and made well and we are putting it in our bars with the beer and in big huge barrels and that's what we make it in and we just ship it out after we will we put in a new barrel

What I did this is working tons of people see it, he's no dummy.

We reintroduced Tesla and didn't do that great and the truck didn't do good and we changed the whole configuration and people didn't buy that much and it's still not and I found out why if you run out of charge you can't fill it up and move and the car is built so well they worked out there that's hardly any air and they bring air and they feed it air and that's what it is you see it and mad Max and desert does not enough oxygen and it tanks of it on their vehicles. We don't we don't send the battery we don't sell the batteryless stuff no. That's what we're using and there's a few more different ones hit a different ideas and it was really cool and I perfected it it's using magnets and it is an awesome awesome thing to do no one will believe it's real it propels you online using what the real gun uses and it's so fast you can almost go like unlimited speed and it works on the corral and it works on that tire version is very fast I tried on light cycles and it works extremely well it's a different tire and the fly version is so fast you can almost go as fast as you want using his turbine which is not a fin. I never use it on the turbine it's touchless it's very fast I forget to do that it does have components that have to touch and they're on their ball bearing but it won't let us runs without touching and it's so fast and it hurts. Top speed of the ball and if he unimotorcycle, is, on the ground and the flats like desert salt flats it go about 35,000 miles an hour in the air cuz of 100,000 and some weird system making it fly. No I helped design it it is a little weird. But if you apply more power just put a couple tacamac instead of one and, it will go 100,000 miles an hour on the ground and like $300,000 in the air and space it won't do anything but he says it's a way to do that I was trying to think of it. We d saying there's a way to do it, we are in the process of developing it now

the morlock are on their kneeshv ten bases. Remain mostly they have five as the island deteriorate rapidly and Australia deteriorates and it's nothing too and after that there's five more Island systems they'll be out shoulder too

Thor Freya

[depressedhatakekakashi]

I would like to request KakaGai + water/swimming please!

For: @shinobimagpie obv and @bougiebutchbitch who had to be an adult and do adult work today 💜💜💜 @aldynafox as well because all my kakagai loving friends deserve good dorky boys

Kakashi couldn’t believe it. If someone had woken him up this morning and told him that he would be sitting beside Maito Gai at the dango shop watching him pout, he would never have believed them.

Maito Gai did not pout. He was a proud man. Dedicated and strong. There was nothing in the world that could cause him to jut out his bottom lip and avoid eye contact with Kakashi.

Nothing, except apparently Kakashi saying no to a challenge.

It wasn’t even the first time Kakashi had said no. There were many instances over the years where he had turned down one of Gai’s challenges. Either because he was on his way out for a mission, or he was exhausted after returning home, or he was just not feeling it.

Gai had always accepted it, even when he tried to push a little hoping Kakashi would change his mind.

He never pouted.

Today, for some reason, was different.

Instead of insisting, or forgetting about the challenge in favour of trying to eat as much dango as humanly possible, Gai was using the guilt tactic. The pout of a thousand kicked puppies.

It was actually sort of pathetic.

“Gai…”

“No, it’s ok,” his lower lip quivered a little with the pathetic sound of dejection in his voice. “My eternal rival doesn’t want to have a hot blooded challenge even thought it has been three months and six days since our last one. I’m fine.”

Clearly he was lying.

“Just, not today, ok?” His body ached and honestly he did not have the mental drive to get into challenge mode. No matter how hard he tried to force it, it just wasn’t happening. “We can have a challenge tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow, yes,” Gai turned his back to him, hiding away the pitiful look on his face. “Tomorrow is fine.”

It was like Kakashi had actually kicked him. He almost felt bad for the man, but he knew it was all an act. Gai would bounce back with the energy of a fifty sugar fed children. He always did.

“Well, can you pass me my water?” He asked, pointing towards the glass on the other side of the table that Gai had snatched from him earlier when declaring his challenge. “I would like to dr-“

Before he could finish his sentence, Gai lifted the glass off of the table and threw the contents into his face. An entire glass of water flew straight into his face, soaking his mask and leaving droplets clinging to his eyelashes.

Gai stared at him with wide eyes, the consequences of his actions sinking in as he looked at the drowned dog of a man sitting in front of him.

“Kakashi, I-“

“A challenge,” Kakashi grumbled under his breath, glaring at Gai while the water seeped into the top of his shirt. “Fine.”

“Kakashi?”

“I challenge you to dodge this,” before Gai had an opportunity to process his words, Kakashi snatched the pink ball of dango off of one of the sticks and slammed it into his face, smooshing the sweet treat into his skin so hard that he was certain some of it had gone up Gai’s nose.

In fact, he knew some of it had because as soon as he pulled his hand back Gai had turned around and tried to blow it out so he could breath properly.

“You ruined my dango!”

“You threw water in my face!”

“You- ruined- my- DANGO!” Gai turned to him with fiery eyes, reaching out to grab hold of his shirt only to find Kakashi gone and a log in his place. “Kakashi!”

“A challenge!” Kakashi called after him, already outside of the shop. “Catch me if you can, Rival!”

He knows it’s a lost cause. Gai has the speed on him and a face full of dango was far more upsetting than a glass of water thrown into his face, but Kakashi still ran.

He ran for his life, laughing when Gai came barreling out of the small shop behind him.

Maybe he was able to have a challenge after all.

[imfluentinfangirlandgay]

Elevated Railways - Ch 13

Ingo has been in Hisui for two years when two children fall from the sky - with wings like his. Did they come from the same place he did?

Word Count: ~2700

Ingo flew at top speed, pulling far ahead of the other two. He streaked up the mountainside, his longer, slender wings capable of handling a lot of area as he rode the updrafts. His heart pounded in his ears. Something was wrong. Never in his entire time of knowing the twins had they screamed like that. Like they were in real, life-threatening danger. Even when they were in true danger, he had never heard them scream like Akari just had. 

He got to the top. Up there were the twins. Rei was unconscious on Akari’s lap, blood trickling from a wound on his head. Akari was hunched down on the ground over her brother, shaking. In front of them was Akari’s Samurott, which was clearly on its last leg. It was wounded, poisoned, and one of its eyes was shut. It was breathing heavily from the effort it was taking. In front of them was a massive dark Pokemon. It had golden rings encasing its head and body and it was levitating a few inches off the ground. Its back had six tendrils sprouting from it, each capped with a bright red claw. Next to it, supposedly commanding it, was a blonde figure with a flowing haircut. Ingo did not dwell on it. 

“Gliscor, X-Scissor!” Ingo tucked in his wings, diving at the human, not even bothering to see what happened with the battle. Ingo swooped, barreling into the figure at top speed, knocking him off his feet and to the ground. Ingo grabbed him as he sailed back up, taking him up and up, up to where the very rift used to be. He held the figure by the front of their shirt. He realized that he recognized them. 

“Volo?” He glared daggers at the man. Volo laughed in his face. 

“I cannot believe none of you saw it sooner. Now, let me down so I can finish squashing them to pieces. I will reform the world in my perfect image. I will meet Arceus!” He squirmed in Ingo’s grasp. 

Ingo heard something behind him. “Well, if you insist.” Volo screamed as Ingo dropped him. Emmet came under them and caught Volo as he passed. 

“He’s trying to harm the children! Emmet, do what you must!” Emmet held the struggling man in the air by his collar, his grin dangerous. 

“I would not want to have all the fun by myself, dear brother,” he said, his tone giving nothing away, instead all of his emotion bleeding out of his face. He was taut, rigid, and ready to snap at a moment's notice. “Unruly passengers must be dealt with accordingly.” He threw Volo some distance away, the man screaming. Ingo swooped and caught him again, just before he hit the ground. His face was pale at this point, his smile strained. 

“You would not kill me,” he said, his voice wobbling. Ingo fought back the urge to laugh. 

“I would not, no.’ He threw Volo again, allowing Emmet to catch him. “I have no say over my brother, however. He tends to be the wild card of the two of us.” Emmet’s smile was downright feral now. He began to speak, but was drowned out, Ingo’s attention being snatched away. 

There was a screech below them. Gliscor was tossed about by the creature, its dark tendrils ripping into it. Ingo swooped again, landing harshly in front of the twins. He held up his arms, grabbing for his Pokeballs. “Alakazam, Shadow Ball, strong style.” He flicked his wrist, sending the powerful psychic onto the battlefield. It responded immediately, landing a critical hit on the monster. It withered, its form changing as six legs sprouted from its sides, the tendrils it had warping and forming into large, shadowy wings. Then it screeched as darkness engulfed it, leaving nothing in its wake. The battle was over. 

Ingo whirled around and dropped to his knees. “Akari?! Are you alright? What happened?” He looked her over, not noting any serious injuries. She was shaking still, seemingly unable to process what was happening. Rei was still unconscious in her lap. The blood had slowed down, now clotted in his hair. He was still breathing strong and his heart rate was still steady. He just seemed to have fallen unconscious from a head blow. Ingo needed to ensure he did not have a concussion. 

He looked back up at Akari. She was crying silently, tears flowing from her dark eyes as she stared wide-eyed at the place that Volo had been. Ingo gently took her and pushed her head into his shoulder, stroking her hair. He cocooned the pair of them with his wings. “You are safe now. It’s alright. We took care of it. Now we can take care of you, alright? Whenever you feel like it, we can get Rei back to my home and we can all relax there. I will check his wounds. He seems alright.” She continued shaking, not saying a single word. Ingo continued talking softly to her, stroking her hair rhythmically. She continued not to talk, but Ingo dimly remembered doing this kind of thing with Emmet. He kept his voice low and soothing. “You did so well, my child. I am so very proud of you. I am also very happy you called for me. I came as soon as I could with Emmet. We are here now, there is no more danger for you. We can sit here as long as you’d like. Take your time, young passenger.” He continued saying other such things as he continued stroking her hair, coaxing her out of her trance.

The first confirmation that he got that she was cognisant of his presence was a quiet sniffle. He rubbed her back with one hand, still combing his fingers through her hair with the other. He did not change his tactic as he heard the sniffles grow. Then she grabbed his tunic with her fingers, squeezing the fabric. She wailed unintelligibly, almost screaming. Ingo continued to comb her hair, telling her how proud he was. (And it was true.) She trembled in his grasp, her wings oddly still. Usually they were at least waving. 

Ingo sat with her until she finally began to calm down. His knees were screaming, but he didn’t care. He continued being a steady presence for Akari until she settled down enough that she pulled away, just a little. Ingo let her head off of him, placing his hands on her shoulders. She just looked… tired. Her eyes had deep bags under them, as if she had not slept in a few days. Her lip was still wobbling. Ingo reached over and wiped some tears from her eyes. He did not say anything as he gazed at her with open worry. She was still shaking. 

“I’m here, it’s alright now, passenger. We are here for you.” He heard Emmet alight down not far away and run over, kneeling with him next to Akari and Rei. He took inventory of the situation. He did not say anything and put his hands on his knees. 

Her lip wobbled more as she looked between the two of them. “D-dad…” she croaked out. Ingo rushed forward and hugged her, Emmet following suit. Ingo met Emmet’s eyes over her head. He nodded. 

“Come Miss Akari, let us get you somewhere safer.” Ingo gently lifted the girl into his lap as Emmet took Rei’s head. Ingo stood with her, still sobbing into his shoulder. She was a little heavy, but he would manage. Emmet lifted her brother to his chest, making sure his head was pressed snugly against his chest. They both ran in sync, jumping off the mountaintop and flexing their wings, flapping and sailing off towards home. 

—-------------

They got the children bundled up into the nest first. Akari refused to let go of at least one of them at any given time, so Emmet sat with her as Ingo rushed around, grabbing things. He settled down with his bounty, taking Rei’s head into his lap. He cleaned the boy off gently with a damp cloth, noting how much blood there was. It was likely just because it was an injury to the scalp. Then he applied some poultice to it and finally wrapped the injury. Ingo felt around and noted no fractures in his skull, which was ideal. 

He laid Rei on his bed. He did not want him moving around too much. He let out the boy’s partner, a Typhlosion, to keep watch over him and keep him warm. The creature let out a low, concerned moan when it saw its wielder. “He should be alright. He is just unconscious. Keep watch over him for me.” The ghost type nodded at him, gently laying its large head on his legs, watching him with drooping ears. 

Ingo turned, returning to the other two. Emmet was lying next to her as she clung to him like a baby Chimchar, still sniffling. Ingo brought out his waterskin. “Akari, might I ask you to sip some water for me?” He coaxed her off Emmet enough to drink some water, which seemed to wake her up a bit. Ingo put away the container and nestled in, sandwiching her between the two of them. She was still shaking. Emmet was stroking her hair and humming. 

Ingo had an idea. He sat up and grabbed the familiar tin, opening it and dipping three fingers in as he started to preen her. Her wings were wobbling as she cried, but he made sure to be gentle and thorough. As he worked his way through her wings, she began to calm. The repetitive action of grooming seemed to help. Her sniffles quieted, her breathing leveling out. By the time Ingo finished, she was asleep, still clinging to Emmet’s front as she breathed. Emmet continued to stroked her hair as she slept. 

“She’s asleep,” he rumbled softly. He looked up at Ingo. Ingo blinked in return. He put aside the preening oil and laid back down, far enough away that he would not crush her wings. He rubbed her back and watched over her and her brother as they slept. 

—----------------

Akari was the first to wake. It had been a few hours. The sun was beginning to set by this point. “Wh-wha?” Her voice was raspy from overuse. 

“Akari,” Ingo said softly. “You are here in my tent, with me and Emmet. Rei is asleep over on the mattress. You are safe.” He did not move, and neither did Emmet. Ingo had his wing tucked around the three of them, large and soft. Gliscor was curled up by their heads now that it was healed. Akari’s Samurott guarded the door. When it heard her voice, it trundled over and stood over Gliscor, nuzzling her face. 

Her eyes fluttered open. Ingo could tell because Emmet, who could see her face, smiled broadly. “We apologize for any delays you have have experienced,” he grinned. 

She rolled, sitting up slowly. She blinked a few times. Then she gasped, whirling around. “V-Volo, he was gonna… and then Rei… is he… and Giratina-” 

“Akari,” Ingo said, a little louder, catching her attention. He sat up quickly.  “You called for us, and we diffused the situation. The Pokemon is defeated. Rei is recovering over there. Volo has been taken care of,” Emmet grinned wickedly at that and nodded, “and we are all inside my tent now. Please, I must insist that you rest. You are exhausted.” As he spoke, she relaxed, not laying back down, but her wings laid back at her sides. Emmet sat up as well, laying a hand on her knee. 

“Are you sure? He seemed so dead-set on it-”

“We have obtained the last of the plates you were searching for from him. He has been taken out of commission. He is no longer a danger to you or anyone else,” Ingo soothed. She sagged. It was quiet for a moment. 

“What happened?” Emmet asked, deadpan. 

“Emmet, not yet-”

“No, it’s okay. I need to get it off my chest.” Akari got more comfortable and took a deep breath. “It was him all along. He said that he opened the rifts to try to get to Arceus because he wanted to meet it. He wanted to make a new world in his own image, a better world, and destroy this one. He never said why. He had us run around and gather all the plates and we just followed him and didn’t even question it…” She paused before continuing, her breath shaky. “He started acting weird after we got the last plate. He was scaring me. Then he led us to the top of the mountain and battled us. At one point, he aimed an attack for us directly and Drifloon wasn’t able to block it. It was aimed for me, but Rei jumped in front of me and…” she trailed off again, choking on her own breath. “He fainted. The last of my team wasn’t enough to take down Giratina and we were about to lose. I knew that if we lost, he was going to kill us too because he was jealous we were Arceus’ chosen. He wanted to…” She choked again, the noise transforming into a sob. Ingo reached over and squeezed her other knee softly. “He said he caused all the rifts. He was the one who brought you here, Uncle Ingo-”

“Uncle now?” Emmet interrupted. Ingo was about to scold him when he continued, “You called him your dad on the mountain.” 

Her cheeks flushed. “Oh… if it made you uncomfortable I can stop doing that, I was confused and in shock and I swear I didn’t mean to-”

“Akari.” Ingo placed his hand on her shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze. “If you wish to refer to me like that, I have no issue with it. In fact, I find it rather endearing.” He must have smiled his infamous lopsided smile because she giggled at him. She held out her arms for him, asking for a hug. Ingo obliged. 

“You can only call him your dad if I’m your uncle, though,” Emmet pouted. Akari giggled again, pulling him into the hug. 

“Of course. Our new dad and our Uncle Emmet.” Both brothers grinned at that. 

A groan. All three looked up, noting that Rei was stirring. Typhlosion nuzzled the boy softly, bellowing softly. Ingo stood immediately and went to the boy’s bedside, sitting on the edge of the mattress and feeling his head. “Rei? Are your systems operational?” 

Rei groaned again, cracking open an eye. “Head hurts,” he moaned. Ingo brushed his hair back. 

“You took quite a hit. Rest for now, you are safe.” 

“V-Volo… Akari… they okay?” 

“Volo has been taken care of. Akari is just over there, perfectly safe and healthy. Rest up for now. You took a hit to the head. Please lay and rest.” 

He grimaced, his face turning up in a pout. “Cold.” 

“Hmm.” Ingo looked at Typhlosion. It nuzzled Ingo’s arm. “Alright, then.” He picked the boy up gently, making sure he did not move his head too much, and transferred him over to the floor nest. He laid him down carefully, in a soft spot. Typhlosion lumbered after them. “He says he was cold. I believed we could help.” 

Akari immediately laid next to him, snuggling up to his side. Ingo sat on his other side, running his hands through the boy’s hair. Emmet sat up beside Akari, so that the young twins were squished between the older ones. Ingo noticed Akari yawning. 

“You can go back to sleep, Akari. We will be here to protect you. We promise,” he murmured, making sure not to disturb Rei. Emmet nodded. She nestled in and allowed her eyes to shut. “Sweet dreams, Akari.” 

“Good night, Dad. Good night, Uncle Emmet.” Ingo felt a warm glow in his chest as she settled down again for sleep. 

taglist: @ruyi-years

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[sabraeal]

Expect the Unexpected

[Read on AO3]

For a long, breathless moment, the eight quivers at the edge of the pocket. That’s before gravity does its job, dragging it down into the depths with a clack, along with all of Obi’s hopes follow it. So this is what rock bottom feels like-- knowing that all the balls on the felt are as striped as he is, not a single solid in sight. Five minutes ago, Doc hadn’t even picked up a cue.

It probably says something about him that he likes it so much. Maybe he’d like hitting the bottom of the barrel more if scraping it always sounded like her laugh.

“That’s game,” she tells him, all chipper-like, as if he somehow missed how thoroughly she’s trashed him. “Do you want to play again?”

Obi’s met a lot of sharks in his life, but none of them are quite as cute as Doc. “I think that’s illegal.”

Those too-big eyes turn on him, shining black in the light. “What is?”

“Uh.” He licks his lips. God, his mouth is dry. “Hustling?”

She can flutter those pretty little eyelashes all she likes, but Obi’s wise to her now. “Obi, hustling’s only illegal if you bet money on it. And this was a friendly game.”

He lets out a harsh “Ha!” on that one. Friendly. This girl doesn’t even know the meaning of the word. Asked him if she was holding the cue right, and then dismantled him with it before he could finish his beer.

“If you were being friendly, you would have had the decency to sandbag me first,” he mutters, sulky. “Let me have just a little dignity.”

Doc’s never smirked in his radius before-- he’s sure he’s remember it if she had, or at least the barrage of cold showers he’d need afterward-- but her mouth twitches toward it now. It only heightens the flavor of his defeat when she lifts her eyebrows, all fake-surprised. “Are you saying you would have liked me to let you win?”

Obi might not be certain of much at the moment, but he knows: they’re not flirting. It’s too bad the rest of him isn’t getting the message, though; his heart works triple time in his chest as it tries to fuel both his face and his dick at the same time.

I’m not mad you won, he wants to say so badly it aches, I’m mad you haven’t bent me over this table and taken your winnings.

Maybe he needs to cool it on the refreshments.  Obi wrinkles his nose, dropping his cup off to the side. Last thing he needs is something like that sneaking out of his mouth. If he thought Doc could run fast after Zen kissed her, well, she’d find a new top speed after something like that.

“Fine,” he sighs, reaching for the triangle. “Lemme rack up again.”

She bounces at the end of the table, for the first time in hours looking like she’s a real college girl having actual fun. “I’ll let you have a turn this time, I promise.”

“Now, now,” he hums, catching the balls just as quick as she rolls them down the felt. “It’s no fun if you let me win.”

“I won’t,” she promises, fishing the five out from the corner pocket. “But this time I can at least let you play.”

An hour in, he’s down five games to one, but Obi would be hard pressed to point out another time he’s had more fun. At least, one that wasn’t pitched horizontal and had an expiration date at dawn.

Given the choice, he’d still pick this. His pride’s practically on life support, but the way Doc smiles, all lit up like a rich kid’s street on Christmas-- that’s worth it. What’s a quick fuck compared to making her laugh so hard she’s forgets this place makes her strung so tight she could snap?

The rack floats over the felt as he gets it lined up, the eight winking up at him. “Stop gloating and break already.”

“It’s not gloating,” she informs him, too chipper as she picks up her cue. “I’m just having fun.”

It’s an effort not to stumble, to put his hand to his chest since he’s certain-- certain-- that’s he’d come back with blood. There’s no other way to explain the pain that grips him, squeezing his chest tight. But his heart’s still working, galloping triple time in his chest, not missing a beat and probably inventing a couple new ones to keep up. He’s thankful for it-- without the distraction, he might has said something stupid, like, me too.

He needs to get a grip. If it weren’t for him putting his nose where it didn’t belong, she’d be just as happy to have Big Guy here. Maybe he can fool himself into thinking being around matters, like membership to the Orphan Club means something besides having shit luck, but-- this whole situation is midnight and Cinderella shoes. Maybe some people might see a happy ending, but Obi’s survived this long only by picking his way around broken glass.

Or so he’d like to think, until Doc sets herself behind the cue with a determined wiggle, one eye shut and tongue sticking out the way dogs do when they’re ready to run, and--

Well, it’s a good thing he’s not who he was a year ago. Because that Obi-- he wouldn’t care about any cute promises between puppies in love. No, no, that guy would know how to coax her flat on this table, screaming his name into the felt before it was even time for the next round. Make a real mess for him to come back to, but when had that ever stopped him? After all, running away was good cardio. Sometimes he even remembered to burn his bridges behind him as he went.

Obi glares down, the Solo logo filtered piss-yellow through the ripples oh his beer. Looks like he’s had enough tonight, for real.

Instead of contemplating the bottom of his cup, he lets his gaze drop back to Doc. Not her ass this time-- as tempting and dangerous as that may be-- but her arms. They’re not like his, strung tight with muscle, but he can see a bit of definition when he squints, the legacy of many a box carried from one end of the science building to another. And nothing impressive, sure, but he likes them.

He likes her hands too. They’re tiny things, a whole knuckle and change short than his, but they’re strong. Callused too, hooked around that cue like they know what they’re doing, and he--

He’s going to get himself in trouble thinking about that too long. Especially since she dolled them up for the evening, pink shimmering under the light, the kind that always looked so good against his--

“Hey,” he says instead, not nearly casual enough. “Nice nails there, Doc.”

Her shot goes wide as her eyes, cue ball careening out from under her and right into the side pocket.

Obi stares, forcing out a laugh. “Guess that’s my game. What’s that make, five to...two?”

Doc doesn’t answer; not in words, at least. Oh no, she just pulls her hands back, that bright flash of pink curling against her chest. Cradles them there like it’s the only place they’re safe.

A month ago, he would have assumed it was him. They started off rocky enough; what’s to say he didn’t do something, say something that made her clam up so tight she turned her problems into pearls? But now--

Well, jumping out a three story building changes a person. And when you do it together, you don’t question all that hard where you stand. Maybe he prodded right in a sore spot, but still-- it’s not him she’s glancing at, wondering if he might bite. No, it���s someone else, someone she can’t see since her eyes haven’t settled on a single place since he spoke up.

For once, his heart slows, the frantic drum line in his ears fading to a steady drone. Obi’s not some superhero, he doesn’t have a special spidey sense for assholes, but well-- he’s made a career off of knowing where the next punch is coming from. Wouldn’t have made it out of grade school if he didn’t.

Be nice if it came up with something right now, other than ‘this music fucking sucks’.

“Hey.” He sets his cue against the table, setting his ass right up against the rail. “You wanna get out of here?”

It’d be generous to call what Doc does ‘startled.’ No, it’s more like a full-body finch, every part of her curling around her chest before she thinks better of it. And still, she laughs, a high, nervous giggle that makes it a physical struggle not to check their exits.

“Ah!” Her palms fly up between them, less to ward him off and more a force of habit. A way to discourage looking closer, like one of those old blobby paintings the boss goes on about. At arm’s length she looks fine, but any closer and the teeth-clenching anxiety’s clear to see. “No, no. I’m fine! I’m having fun, really. It’s-- it’s your turn, isn’t it? I should move over--”

“Doc.” He doesn’t mean to say it like-- like that, all serious and rough, but that’s the way it comes out. Her head swivels up at him, eyes hly and rabbity,  looking for a reason to bolt into the hedges. “I’ll stay close. Don’t worry.”

Her shoulders sag, tension rushing out of her like piss from a drunk. “You don’t have to,” she tells him, too soft, too grateful for it to be true. “You probably-- I mean, if you have something else you’d rather do, you can go ahead. There’s lots of, um, people, so--”

“Are you kidding?” Obi stares at her across the felt. “Who else would I hand out with?”

“I don’t know, I just thought that you, um...you like, ah...” Her eyelashes flutter, eyes darting to every corner, to everywhere but him. “Never mind. I’m being...silly, I guess.”

“Hey.” He leans toward her. not enough to mean something, but it’s close. A friendly kind of close. The sort that makes Doc stand up and pay attention, rather than bolt for the nearest plant. “I came here for you. Not to go to a stupid frat party at Tara or whatever. I don’t want to go around and make nice with everyone else. I mean, unless that’s what you want to do.”

Her eyes are too big, too trusting to be staring at him like this. “Tara?”

“You know, Scarlett O’Hara’s place?” He shrugs, expansive. “Gone with the Wind?”

Her head tilts. “You’ve read Gone with the Wind?”

“It’s a movie too.” A four hour long one, but he doesn’t need to tell her how many times he sat through it from ages sixteen to eighteen, pretending the thing with Bonnie Blue didn’t get to him. “You’re killin’ me, Smalls.”

Confusion is still the only thing that greets him. “That from a movie too, right?”

He lets out a huff, shaking his head. “God, what did you even do growing up?”

“Read.” Her mouth twitches, threatening to curl. It’d be real stupid of him if he tried to smother that smirk with his mouth, but that doesn’t stop him from thinking of how to do it three different ways at least. “Play pool.”

Obi tears his gaze away, shaking his head to make it look natural. This girl is too dangerous to look at, not unless he wants to start burning bridges before they’re even built.

“Yeah, yeah.” He hops off the edge, making to shoo her with his cue. “It’s my break, isn’t it? Lemme just get behind the ball here--”

“Shirayuki?”

It’s a little weird, how the next few seconds go. Obi hears the name, obviously-- he’s practically conditioned to hear it in this crowd-- but it rolls over him, no danger sense pinging, not when the voice that says it is so clearly feminine. Lower register, but a lady nonetheless, nothing he’d think to call a problem, but--

Doc freezes. “K-kino?”

There’s no way to anticipate the girl that comes up from behind him; he takes one look at her bottle-supported blonde and the washed out blue of her eyes and his brain immediately supplies: generic brand Kiki. “Oh my god, so it really is you!”

This is the part where girls hug, talking over each other as they try to catch up, but Doc-- Doc just hangs back, knuckles bone-white where they clench at each other. “You’re still...?”

This Kino girl doesn’t seem to be any rush to hug it out either; oh no, she bumps a hip against the table, looking Doc over like Ryuu approaching animal carcasses. Like she’s something to take apart. “Oh, yeah, no. I know you left after like, all that, but everyone else hung around.”

Obi’s done a good job of not asking the past few days. Even if everyone hadn’t been tripping over themselves to hint that something happened here before he even got into the car-- like he couldn’t piece that together from the whole ‘ran a whole state away two weeks into the semester‘ thing-- Doc’s different. She’s quieter, more part of the wallpaper than he’s ever seen her. And that’s fine; he may not know what it’s like to go h-- back, but if he can imagine it’d be like this, a snake trying to pull itself into a skin it’s already shed. So sure, he’s curious, but he can mind his own business. He can behave.

But he watches Doc go bloodless at the words all that, and maybe he could behave badly. Just this once. He’s been a good boy lately.

Kino’s got a good sense of irony, since she turns to him with her watered-down Seiran smile and says, “Who’s this? Are you here with him?”

He doesn’t miss the insinuation, or her skepticism either. It’s not the first time he’s heard it in the past few months; there’s plenty of people who take one look at him and one look at her and think Doc needs a rescue.

But that’s not what this girl is talking about, oh no. Kiki Lite flutters her eyelashes at him, giving him those looking-for-a-good-time eyes, and he knows: she thinks Doc can’t keep up with him. That’s she’s too boring for someone who’s got scars like they’re keeping score.

It flies right over Doc’s head. “Um...” She shoots him a look that’s pure panic, two steps away from a tremble. “Ah...”

“Yeah.” He slides in between them, close enough to Kino to make her grin. It fades the littlest bit when he holds out his hand, all professional-like. “I’m Obi.”

She takes it, and, ha, looks like she’s got a watered-down handshake too. Kiki would crush this girl’s hand like a vise. “Kino. Alix Kino. Me and Shirayuki go way back.”

Not far enough, by Doc’s expression. His mouth hooks into a smirk, his casual lean flirting with the idea of turning aggressive. “Is that so?”

Apparently, that’s what Kiki Lite is into. Obvious in retrospect, considering the original. “Do you two go back too?” Her hand edges toward him, nails a too-familiar pink. “Or would you like to--?”

“I think maybe I will get a drink.”

Obi blinks, glancing back at where Doc stands, fingers clenched at her side. Not angry-- she’d be halfway to a window if she was-- but she won’t look at him. Or really, she’s desperate to look at just about anything else.

“Ah...?” He pushes himself off the table, confused. “Sure. I could go get--”

Her hands fly up, waving between them. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m just going to do get-- I’ll be right back.” She must catch his skepticism, since she makes at effort to look straight at him, to give him the worst smile she can manage. “Really, just a minute.”

And just like that, she leaves him. Disappears right into the crowd, sticking him with only the Bargain Basement Princess for conversation. Great.

He’s half tempted to go after her anyway-- it’s not like he doesn’t know where the bar is, and if anyone shouldn’t be left to their own devices at a party like this, it’s the tiny red head with a penchant for jumping out windows. But before he can do much more than lift his foot, Kino hums, “Seems like she’s left us alone. You want to go a round?”

There’s no missing that she doesn’t just mean in pool.

“I don’t know,” he drawls, letting his smile take a promising slant. It’s too easy to slip back into this, to wear the face of the guy who used to pick up chicks and then drop them just as easily. No strings attached, just fun-- until their boyfriends showed up at his apartment. “I think it’s obvious that I’m only into girls who can run me into the ground.”

Kino laughs; it’s a nice sound, he hates to admit. Not as nice as Kiki’s though, and not even in the same neighborhood as Doc’s. “Well, I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m not anywhere near Shirayuki’s league, but I might be able to to give you a run for your money.”

“Sorry,” he says, not in the slightest, “only the degradation of total dominance gets me going.”

“Ah, no fair.” She puts down her drink on the table behind them, freeing up her hands to lean over this one. Her bottom lip juts in a pout, but that’s not what she wants him focusing on. Not when she’s folded her arms like that, practically making her C-cups a window display. “How can I complete when she could play at the B&B every day.”

You can’t is the answer, but he can’t make himself say it, not now that she’s said--

“B&B?” he says, not nearly casual enough. He shouldn’t be saying anything, shouldn’t be engaging when Party Princess is only here to cause trouble, but he’s a good boy, not a great on. “So by way back, you’re talking like...high school?”

“Probably earlier.” Dollar Store Kiki shrugs, another attempt to lure his eyes down. It’s too late, though-- he’s already caught a more alluring scent. “We both grew up in town. But I’m a couple years older. We met when she joined field hockey.”

It’s stupid to get excited, stupid to even be swimming around this hook when he knows it’ll just leave him gasping on the dock, but he can’t help it. Impulse control’s never been his best quality. “So were you there when Doc got in her fight?”

“Doc?” She giggles. It’s too high-pitched, too fake to be anything but grating. “Is that what you call her? That’s a cute nickname.”

The only one she’s let him use more than once, but this girl doesn’t need to know that. Not when he really needs her to focus on the topic at hand. “Did she take the girl out? Was there hair pulling? Can you get carded in field hockey?”

Her mouth thins, pulling into a strained smile. “You seem really interested it her.”

“I am,” he admits with a grin. “Really interested in knowing if she got in trouble, that is.”

“I don’t really remember.” Kino levers herself up, fingers rapping against the felt edge. “She was only in it for like, a year. After all, it’s not like we could invite her to the team sleepovers, right?”

His brows raise. “Because she got into a fight? I thought that was sort of a feature of hockey. Or is that just when it’s on ice?”

“Oh, come on.” Her arms cross, but it’s not for his benefit, not when she rolls her eyes like that. “You have to know why. I mean, it’s cute that you’re trying, but you’re really not her type.”

“Well,” he smiles, rictis tight. “I’ve always wanted to go blond. At least once. Works for those k-pop boys, doesn’t it?”

“Do you really need me to spell it out?” She doesn’t look much like Kiki when she huffs like this, tossing her head like a fussy horse. “There’s a reason we were all a little relieved when she quit. She might not be obvious about it, but we all knew she wasn’t batting for the same team as the rest of us, if you know what I mean.”

He’s been on the other side of the euphemism too many times to not, but-- well, considering how he’s gotten a front row seat to Doc checking Chief’s tonsils with her tongue, it looks like Diet Kiki doesn’t have the same great sleuthing skills as the original either.

“No,” he says with his widest, least friendly smile. “I don’t think I do.”

Something ugly happens on that pretty face of hers, rolling across like a shark’s fin at the beach. “Well, I mean, she told you why she had to drop out, right? That little trouble with Raj Shenezard?”

Obi likes to think he’s got a good lock on his face, that he doesn’t let anything on there he doesn’t want to be seen, but-- her eyes light up the moment she says Raj, and he knows he’s fucked up. An eyebrow twitch, a blink, a tic of his cheek-- it doesn’t matter, this Kino kid’s got her hooks in him good.

“Ooh, she hasn’t, has she?” Her mouth curls. “But you want to know, don’t you?”

Until now, he could have sworn that he was just a regularly amount of curious, the way anyone is when a secret is dangled in front of them. But here it is being offered up to him on a silver platter, all the answers to why Doc has been so quiet, so tense, so not herself-- and he’s ravenous for it. Or at least he would be, if it wasn’t this bitch trying to tell him.

“Nah,” he sniffs, turning his chin away. “You know how some people have this whole thing about spring water? Get real tripped up over where it’s bottled? I’m like that with secrets. If it doesn’t come from the source--” his grin could cut glass when he turns it to her-- “it gets that stanky taste, you know what I mean?”

If glares could kill, he’d be dead five times over. Instead it feels like he’s got a post-peel glow going on, beaming as he grins down at her. Some asshole bumps into her, jostling her back towards the table, and he can’t help it, he gives a little chuckle, just for good measure. He knows that feeling, that little bit karma or whatever, catching up to make him look stupid. Nice that he’s finally on the other side of it, watching it happen to someone who couldn’t deserve it more.

Kino’s hands clench around the rail where she’s caught herself. But she doesn’t pull herself up, oh no, she hangs there dramatically, flashing an edge of her grin as she says, “I’m the one who brought her out that night, you know.”

Every word she spits is venom, but he doesn’t know enough for it to do more than roll off him. Maybe with some context, he’d be wondering if a knock-off could take a punch as well as Kiki could, but right now he enjoys watching her spin her wheels, churning up mud.

“She only came because she wanted me,” this girl keeps saying, like he’s even listening. “Everyone knew about her weird little crush. All I had to do was make her feel special and she’d follow me anywhere.”

Obi’s fingers might twitch, but his mouth does too, forcing out a laugh. He’d thought it was the end of the world when guys started guessing about him, when playful shoves in the locker room started becoming closed fists, hitting place easily hidden by his clothes. The worst punishment middle school could mete out, all just for him. What he wouldn’t have done to just make it words instead, something he could ignore--

But this girl opens her mouth and he knows-- it’s no better. Just different. Boys might solve their problems behind closed doors with tighter fists, but girls-- girls pass their punishment behind their hands, and god, it never stops. A whole poisoned campaign, waged in whispers.

“You know, people say everyone’s got bad taste in high school, but I woulda bet money Doc would miss that by a mile.” His grin pulls razor thin. “But looks like hers is even worse than I thought.“

Kino blinks, but it doesn’t take much longer than that for her to flush, red painting her from hair to neckline. A little slow on the uptake, but she’s picked up what he put down. “I’m telling you she’s not into you.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Not ever,” she presses, like if she just pushed hard enough, she could make this butterknife of a point cut him. “She won’t ever want to sleep with--”

“If I had the choice between talking to her for five minutes and fucking you all night, I’d still be standing here.” He leans over, grin spreading Cheshire cat wide. “You may not know it, but some of us can just be friendly without an ulterior motive.”

“And you want me to believe that’s you?” Her eyebrow arches. “I’ve known a lot a different people, and guys like you don’t do friendship.”

His fingers dig hard into his shoulder, trying to work out a knot that hasn’t left him for two years. “Yeah, maybe. But I think for someone like Doc, I can try.”

She snorts, grasping back for her drink. “You just want to fuck her.”

Obi lets a laugh escape him, burning on its way out. “My life would be so much easier if that were true.”

Kino’s brow furrows. “What--?”

“Kino!”

Doc ricochets like a bullet, embedding herself between them with a frantic wave of her hands. “Don’t--” he hands reach out, snapping back before she can get them too close to Kino-- “give me your drink! Please!”

Kino stares. “Is this some weird--?”

Obi plucks the drink from her hands, settling it in front of Doc. “Thanks!” she chips, grins wide, just before--

Before she sticks her finger in it.

“Doc!” The name bursts out of him before he can think. “I can’t take you anywhere.”

“Just a minute-- there!” She pulls out her finger holding it up--

And the nail isn’t pink anymore. No, it’s a thick, gothy black. “Doc--?”

“Well,” Kino breathes, staring down at the cup. She’s gone white so quick, it’s like someone dropped a sheet on her. “I’ll be damned.”

Doc turns to him, triumph making her glow. “I saw who spiked the cup this time.”

[itsbeaconhillsbaby]

misty morning || tom holland x reader

a/n: hello! relatively new to the tom holland fandom, and I wrote this lil 3am blurb/fanfic/imagine thing, so please enjoy! be kind, I hope you like it - also if anyone wants to talk tom - I'd love to chat! 

word count: 1141 warning: one swear  summary: promises and early morning wake up calls = cute park walks 

It was a cold february morning in south west london, a light mist blanketed the city caressing the grass with its dewy touch, blowing its icy breath on the windows. You could feel a snuffly, wet nose squeezing it’s way between you and the cuddly furnace pressed up against your back. You give a quiet, soft laugh at the groan from your personal heater, as he shifts away from you, allowing you to turn around and come face to face with the very wet nose that rudely roused you from your cosy, dreamy sleep. “Good morning to you too, Tess.” You give her a scratch behind her ears as you lean back against the headboard, allowing her to potter about between the two of you, pawing at the duvet encouraging you to get out of your warm cocoon. “This is what happens when you promise her you’ll take her for a walk before your workout...” you murmur as Tom shoots you a sleepy grumble, “she’s very smart, she remembers these things.” Tess rolls over, tail thumping on the sheets as she lets you rub her belly. “I know I know, I’m getting up! But I’m not happy about it.” He mutters, tossing the sheets to the side as he gets up; stretching his arms up, committing to a huge yawn. You grin as he pats Tess’s head, receiving a lick on his palm in response and leans across the bed as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead and both cheeks, “Mornin’ love,” You close your eyes at the contact, relishing in the soft morning kisses - you may be biased, but it was forever the best start to your day. You heard him pad into the en-suite, getting himself ready for his early morning promise as you snuggled back down into the covers, Tess stretching out against your side - waiting patiently. //// You had succumbed back into the land of sleep when suddenly a light weight hits you. “Shit! What the hell” You rubbed your eyes, looking at the offending clothes that had been thrown your way. You glanced at the clock on the bedside table reading 5:45 (you’d drifted off for about 15 minutes before the second rude awakening of the day) and gazed back across at the man leaning against the bedroom doorframe, two flasks in his hands, dressed in his winter jacket and woolly hat, confused. “I forgot to say, I promised her you’d come too!” He dipped back out quickly, narrowly avoiding the pillow you’d pulled from beneath you and aimed straight at him. “THOMAS!” You rolled your eyes at his laugh as the pillow bounced off the wall, before heaving yourself out of the bed and into the t-shirt and leggings that had been thrown at you. Finishing up in the bathroom, you grabbed your phone and Tom’s pink hoodie before exiting the bedroom. He was leaning against the wall, holding out the coffee flask to you, “Forgive me?” “Get a move on holland,” you say once you engulf yourself in the oversized hoodie and take your first sip of coffee, before following your boyfriend down the hallway. //// Tess was running around in huge circles, the park completely empty except for the few squirrels that tess had already managed to scare away with her excitement. It was so early still, you knew half the city probably hadn’t even awoken yet - and whilst jealous over this fact - you were actually enjoying the peaceful outdoors that was sometimes quite rare to do when you dated who you dated. Tom threw Tessa’s ball again. You watched from the top of the picnic table as your goofy boyfriend raced his speed freak of a staffie for the ball, coming in last as Tessa grasped the ball in her teeth and set off for another set of zoomies around the cluster of trees. You sipped some more of your (slightly more lukewarm than hot) coffee before popping it back on the picnic table and rubbed your cold hands together. Tom hopped onto the seat and swung round, plopping down next to you on the tabletop gracefully before taking your cold hands in his and blowing some warm air into them before rubbing them between his own. You smiled, resting your head on his shoulder, as he tucked you tightly under his chin and pulled you into his side. “Mm, I love you,” you murmured into his neck, placing a couple soft kisses up his neck and along his chin before reaching his lips. “Even though I made you come a walk with me at 6 in the morning?” he joked, keeping one eye on the energetic staffie who had abandoned her ball and was now preoccupied with a big stick. You share one more kiss together before you pull away, Tom groaning as you did so. “And to think I almost forgot. You’re on a kissing ban for that stunt!” You pushed him back a little as you hop off the table, Tom mumbling “Oh hell no.” With your tiny head start, you take off across the field, Tom quick on your heels. Tess noticing the commotion, abandons her stick and barrels towards you both as Tom catches up behind you, embracing you from behind and whisking you up in the air. You squeal slightly as the cool air catches your breath, laughing as Tom attacks your face with kisses, Tess jumping up at both your feet trying to get in on the fun. “Okay, okay! Fine I forgive you!” You turn to him, stuffing your hands into his jacket pockets as he presses another soft cluster of kisses onto your forehead, “We should head back, if I’m late for training I’ll be in so much trouble.” You nod, sliding the leash off from around Tom’s neck where it was hanging and clipping it onto Tess’s harness instead, “Cmon Tess, let’s go.” Tom jogs back, grabbing the abandoned ball back from the tree before sprinting back down to the picnic bench and collecting the flasks that were left sitting before meeting you at the gates into the park. Tessa padded along beside you both as Tom entwined your free hand with his and nestled your clasped hands into his jacket pocket together, curling you into his side once again, the pair of you smiling and chatting about your plans for the rest of your day. “So that leaves time for a quick 3:30 nap right?” You ask, grinning up at him. “Are you kidding me?” You frown, your hopes of an afternoon snuggle thwarted. He catches your eye, winking “I’ve already pencilled it in.” You give his shoulder a playful nudge as the pair of you laugh, walking curled into each other back to your kingston flat. Tess’s little tail still wagging with excitement. 

[thedelusionreaderbitch]

Kaz Brekker x Reader - Your What?! Part 1/2 (Soulmate au)

A/n: So I can't believe I'm doing this but... This a soulmate au! With Kaz fucking Brekker! I'm just going to cry in the corner now... I also decided to split this into two parts, so part 2 will be out tomorrow!

Warnings: language, mentions of trauma, mentions of the menagerie, mentions of death, I think that's it? You have been warned!

Summary: You and the crows are on a mission and your soulmate mark starts burning

All rights go to Leigh Bardugo, Netflix, and you! I just own the plot!

Soulmates are the bane of my existence.

You can say otherwise, tell me that I live in a wonderful world to have a chance to even meet my true love or whatever. Personally, I think it's bullshit.

Come on! Most people probably don't even meet their soulmate because the whole system is stupid! Maybe it was different billions of years ago when people couldn't have the same initials but now it's not about the initials.

It's about the pain.

Knowing the initials is just a slight sign to help you along your journey. The pain where those initials are is what it really is.

When your soulmate is hurt or in danger you mark will burn. Depending on the level of how much pain or danger they will be in it could feel like a mosquito bite... Or feel like your getting stabbed multiple times.

In my opinion well really... I don't give two fucks about it. It is what it is but the worst part about soulmate marks is when the person dies.

So when your soulmate is going to die, or is VERY close to death your soulmate mark fill start to flicker. Apparently it's worse then the normal pain you face with soulmates. When the person dies though...

In the case that your soulmate dies, the mark will slowly fade away causing you excruciating pain that could last YEARS. (Dramatic I know.)

That's what I used to think anyways.

When my sister finally escaped the menagerie I was ecstatic, but then she got dragged into the whole 'ice court heist,' so that was fun. In the time that everything happened I eventually got dragged down with her when Ketterdam was on lock down looking for criminals.

Then I found my soulmate.

Kaz fucking Brekker. Or Kaz Rietveld would be more correct, I guess.

After the whole heist was finally over we decided that fine, we could bond and we did. Being us, we didn't tell anyone not to stir up trouble, (we both had enemies) and because Inej Ghafa was my sister. Her and the others would be very protective of me.

Not like they can stop me though.

"Y/n." I snapped my head to look up to Kaz and he raise's an eyebrow at me.

"Don't kill Pekka." I roll my eyes at him. Since Kaz did tell me about his past I told him if he wouldn't kill Pekka I would.

Or at least his son.

I sigh. "Fine but don't expect me to give him a fucking birthday present."

"I never said you had too." Kaz says blankly and I almost grit my teeth together at the thought of Kaz having no emotions. Wow, people really don't know him. Though I guess that's the point.

The Crows and I start walking towards the warehouse-club and Kaz walks with me step by step. That must means he's worried because most times he doesn't even look at me when we're on a job to not show weakness.

Shit.

I brush my hand quickly up against Kaz's gloved ones and I give him a nod.

A promise.

A promise to make it out alive as long as he does. I step back and lower my pace so I'm not leading with Kaz anymore and I fall into pace with Inej and Nina.

My mind goes to when Kaz found out I was his soulmate. I had found out on when he went on a mission one time and I just... Didn't tell him.

*Flashback*

The walls of the Crow club all the sudden become suffocating as I stare intently at Kaz. I spin on my heels and dash out the doors tears filling my eyes. I don't even know where I'm running, I just needed to escape out of the Crow Club.

I need to escape the disappointment.

I slide down onto the wall of the alleyway feeling like a fool. How could I have ever thought someone like Kaz could love me. Regardless of the soulmate mark he didn't even know about.

I sense a someone is in front of me and I go to lift my head up and a man has me at gun point. I go to grab my knives. Shit. I curse every saint ever in existence. They aren't there. I don't even have a gun.

Bare fists I guess it is for me.

We turn in a circle and he clicks the safety off his gun and in a split second I duck when I hear a short, boom!

I growl in pain as a bullet goes through my shoulder and he goes to shoot again and...

BANG!

The man drops dead to the floor.

I turn around and behind me is Kaz holding a gun, but his face is in pain and worry is there as well, spread across his face more plainly then I had ever seen before.

"Your my soulmate." He mutters and I barely hear it. My chest heaves and I just nod my head not being able to speak.

He come's over and pause's right in front of me, just a foot away. Slowly, he takes off his gloves and he nervously takes my hand and laces our fingers together.

Then we start walking back to the Crow Club.

To a new future. Together.

*Flashback over*

"What do you even have against Pekka Rollins anyways, Y/n?" Inej questions me as we speed-walk to the warehouse where some Dime Lions are stirring up trouble.

My brain scrabbles to put something together but I have always been a efficient liar. No offense to my sister she's fantastic at what she does, but lying had never really been her thing.

"Rollins is a barrel boss." I shrug my shoulders seemingly uncaring even though there is so much more layers to it. But I guess I'm not lying.

Yet.

"So is Kaz." Nina points out but I already planed for that response.

"And we're dregs. Pekka is a big barrel boss, he scares off people from coming to the dregs. It's a problem and it's getting on our ass's." I grumble.

"I didn't know it mattered to you that much." Inej states. I wanted to scream in her face. He killed Kaz's brother! He almost killed Kaz! He creates monsters where ever he goes and tries to control them like caged lab rats! But I couldn't do that, so furiously I snap at her.

"Well it should to me, it's my job."

Nina and my sister both look at me weirdly, oh crap. They don't know I have basically the same authority as Kaz. Fuck.

*Flashback*

"Why give me a promotion? Isn't there other people who could use it? Who would do better than me?" I ask Kaz as he goes through the papers on his desk.

"I wouldn't trust anyone else to do it." He looks up to me and starts to get out of his desk. He goes to the door but before he can open it I grab his arm.

"I basically have the same power over the dregs that you do. I don't think that's a good thing."

Kaz just shrugs his shoulders and opens the door.

"What's a king without his queen Y/n?"

*Flashback over*

"Wait what?" Nina asks confused.

At least it goes off the topic of me hating Pekka Rollins with everything I have. Internally I sigh at my foolishness, I had only accepted Kaz's request recently, so no one really knew who was helping him out all the time.

*Flashback*

"Nemesis." The man whispers as I circle around him using the blinding light and the darkness to my advantage.

"Yes, and I get to decide if you live or die. Tell me, did you kill that little girl - Oh what was her name? Sarah was it?" I say loudly my voice confident and dangerous.

"No-no!" The sleaze ball yells and I throw one of my knives at his hand. The knife goes through his hand sticking it to the wall. The man screams out in pain.

"Liar." I hiss.

"Fine! Fine! I killed her!" He manages to scream out. "I killed her." He sobs as he says those three words again.

"Good." I say as I secretly pull a knife out behind my back into my right hand.

"I will grant you mercy." I whisper into his ear.

"Oh thank you!" The man sobs. "Thank you!"

I quickly slit his throat and he chokes on his blood for a few second and horror frames his face, before he falls to the ground.

Dead.

I hear a click of a cane and I whip my head around to face the one and only Dirtyhands.

"You know killing him was accepting my offer, right?"

"I know." I don't have to look at him to know a small smile that has become reversed for me, is sitting on his face.

Then I remember what he said to me when he first gave the offer. I turn to face him as I try to hide my smirk, and I look at him right in the eye.

"My Crow king."

And I turned and walk away.

*Flashback over*

"Well-" I start to say but I'm cut off from Jesper's very excited 'we're here!' Thank the saints though, because it gives me time to escape they're questions for now.

"You all know the plan."

Nina puts her hands on her hips. "Only the parts you deem important enough for us to know."

I nearly snort and a small smile grace's my lips. They really have no idea, well obviously some idea being that the ice court heist existed.

Kaz rolls his eyes and makes a go motion.

Inej goes to slip through the shadows but before she's totally gone I make eye contact with her before she leaves. It clearly says our conversation is not over and stay safe.

I suck in a breath, I always hate it when I have to say goodbye to anyone. Especially when that some person could die.

Running over to back of the warehouse, I pull my hood up trying to be the most concealed that I can be.

Wylan is going with Jesper to go make a distraction so they'll be going through the front doors. Nina will be going to go flirt to go get some extra info, perhaps steal some things on the way and wiggle her way into the top floor where the Dime Lions are. Matthias and Kaz will be going together with them posing as the warehouse-club guards. Inej will be going through the roof, while I'll be going through the back.

In the end everyone will get to the top floor so we can exterminate some Dime Lions, and get into the vault where a whole bunch of kruge is. Hopefully there will be enough so I can put my share's with Inej's so she can get that upgrade on her boat that she needs. It's not like I'm going to use the money to do anything useful, she deserved it and plus I intended to stay with this city.

I silently slide sneakily into the window, coming out of the other end with a knife in my hands. If I have learned one thing from living in Ketterdam, it's that you can never be too prepared.

I stay close to the wall as I see someone roll down the rope-ladder. I grin to myself,

Right on time Inej.

I climb up the ladder without fear of falling down even if the ladder was just made out of rope. I get to the top and Inej offers me a hand and I take it.

The top floor is basically empty except for some Dime Lions henchmen that are laying around, dead or knocked out.

Then, I guess there is also the vault full of kruge.

I look around the room everyone is here except for-

Kaz.

"Where's Kaz?"

Matthias looks a bit uncomfortable and guilty as he shifts nervously on his two feet.

"He said he had to take care of something and to just go."

I sigh, well I know he isn't in danger... Yet. My heart is screaming for me to go after him, but it wouldn't look good for Dirtyhands or Nemesis. Knowing Kaz he's probably fine, he would just want me to open this vault I guess.

The fact that my soulmate mark isn't burning is probably also a clear sign that he's fine.

Get yourself together Y/n.

"Can we open the vault without him?"

The others look mildly surprised at my response (excluding Nina, and my sister).

"You might be able to do it, your one of the best lock pickers there is. Only second to Brekker." Nina states.

I bit my lip and start to walk over to the vault. I let my hand fall over the lock. I let it feel the certain gears and the parts that make up the lock.

The shank of the lock would be easy enough to undo with some man strength to help pull that open. Though that would be the last step - I need to stop thinking too far ahead.

It's a very simple lock that any petty thief could probably do in 32 seconds flat. Besides the fact that it was absolutely ginormous to fit over a fucking vault.

"Inej I'm going to need some help!" I yell across the room to my sister who is in the shadows on a look out, to make sure no ones coming here.

She comes and strolls over to stand beside me. I put my hand up the lock, and I grab one bar and I move it to the side but I hold it there with my hands.

"Can you find the bar to the left and pull it up once?"

Inej does and I hear a huge click! ring through the room.

"We should wait for Kaz till we open it." Inej states and I nod my head in agreement.

"So while we wait." Nina start's talking... Oh no, that can't be good. "We should maybe share the fact that Y/n is Kaz's second hand!"

Angry courses of what! come throughout the room.

"The fuck does Kaz think with putting you in all that danger!" Jesper yells and I see Matthias nod along with him.

"I'm already in danger most of the times I'm Inej's sister!"

"You should have told us!" Nina shoots back.

"You guys are really talking about this while were on a heist!" I shoot back.

My soulmate mark starts to tingle a bit but I ignore it, being that this conversation will most likely take a lot of energy.

"It still puts you in unnecessary danger." Inej and Wylan point out.

Fury rakes through my body. Who are they to tell me that's it's 'dangerous'?! I live in fucking Ketterdam!

"I don't know if you haven't noticed, but I'm not a doll! I can take care of myself! And you can't say anything because 60% percent of you guys don't even fucki- Ahhh!" A string of curse leave my mouth as I collapse against the vault.

"Y/n!"

To be continued...

Words 2480

-thedelusionreaderbitch

Shadow and bone taglist: @kaqua @rika90 @thefandomplace

[dogsongy]

Good Boy~ (11)

Masterlist- Series masterlist - Previous - Next

Chapter 11

Summary: Miyeon opens a dog cafe with her 5 dogs and two handsome young men happen to come in on opening day.

Pairing: Yunho x reader (named Miyeon) x Mingi

Genre: fluff for the most part

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The tall duo struggled to get all the dogs to follow them outside. Heebeom and Param came when their names were called while Min was more interested in playing around rather than listening to the two men. Cleverly Yunho grabs a ball to get the pup’s attention then tosses it outside. Min dashed full speed out the door towards the ball as Yunho gave himself a small pat on the back before the two turned their attention to Yuo who sat by the counter staring at them. Miyeon finished her chores and watched the two from the other end of the store. Yeosang and Jongho also quietly turned their attention towards the two boys. Mingi squatted down to ground level and held out his hand towards the dog. She glanced at it before sniffing it from afar then walking towards Jongho. Mingi pouted quietly and watched as Jongho bent down to pet her. Yunho crossed his arms with a light frown that Yuo didn’t trust them even after the numerous times they've been here. Hey three visits is a lot of time for some people! 

“Alright, go outside, good girl.” With those words the black dog sprints outside to use the bathroom. Miyeon notices the disappointed looks of the tall boys and walks over to comfort them. 

‘It’s ok Yuo is very skeptical when it comes to new people around but I promise she’ll warm up to you one day!” The girl offers a bright smile towards the boys as her eyes glisten in the lighting. Mingi’s face dusts with pink as he stands back up. Yunho’s frown turns back into a smile at her gentle and cute actions. 

One by one the dogs head back in, some barreling in while others gently trot in. Miyeon and the other employees took turns going into a door that leads to her flat and getting changed.

“So what's everyone's schedules like I wanna see if we have any classes together!” Miyeon pulls out her phone and pulls up her class schedule zooming in on Monday’s events first. “I have a math class at 12:30”

Mingi perks up “Me too! Is it in building C room 117 with Mr. Kim?” The girl lets out an excited giggle. “Yes!” Their hands connect with the sound echoing off the walls of the cafe. 

The quintet discusses the next week and they seem to share their basic classes with at least one other person present. 

Yunho glances at his watch and groans. “One of my teachers wants us to make an introduction of ourselves and submit it by Monday. I should get going to work on that.” After a small collection of groans, giggles, and goodbyes the two boys are out of the cafe and heading back home.

Monday.

It's the first day of school and there Miyeon was at work serving coffee as Mingi was in his signature spot with his signature dog and drinking his signature drink. He had his laptop out and was looking at the course work for the semester. With the last sip of his coffee he lets out a sigh before petting Bomi’s head. “This is gonna be a hard semester but… at least I'll have a friend in my class.” He gently kisses the top of her head. Miyeon passes by and scoops up his empty cup. “I’ll be back then we can walk to class together ok?” He gives her a small nod before putting his stuff away into his backpack. He sets down the dog gently. “I guess you can go meet new people now.” The dog sits in front of him for a while before her owner trots over changed from her work attire. 

“Ready to go?” Mingi’s voice rings out to the girl. “Yup!” She turns towards the counter of the cafe. “See you later Yeosang!” He gives a small wave. 

“Tell me how it is! I have that same teacher on Wednesday.” He groans as she giggles. “Will do!” 

The two walk side by side out of the cafe and towards the school. What a day it's going to be today.

[americancowgirl19]

Expendable

Summary: Consumed by your grief over Jason’s death, you track down the Joker on your own. Only you end up finding some... thing very different.

Warnings: vampires, violence, depression, fluff, angst

Reader: Female Reader

Pairings: Dick Grayson x Reader (Platonic), Jason Todd x Reader (Platonic), Tim Drake x Reader (Platonic)

Word Count: 6,113

A/n: Enjoy

Masterlist

You heaved heavily hunched over the bathroom sink. Your fingers grip the edge of the counter top, knuckles turning white. Your eyes are screwed shut as you try not fall apart for the millionth time that week.

It’s only been a month since Jason died and you felt as if you saw his freshly dead body a few hours ago. Your dreams are riddled with nightmares. You can’t even escape the thoughts while awake.

All you can think about is Jason’s beaten and burned body. You can hear the Jokers mocking laugh when you and Batman found him after Jason’s death. Bruce refused to kill him and stopped you from doing it yourself. Batman turned him into Arkham and like everyone could predict, the pale bastard escaped.

Slowly, your eyes open. You look at yourself in the mirror. You try to push back the tears as visions of Jason plague your mind. 

You were Bruce’s daughter. You were a few years younger than Dick but a few years older than Jason. You and Dick had a rocky friendship the first couple of years but you managed to work it out. With Jason, however, the connection was instant.

The both of you had tempers. Tempers which the other knew how to calm. The two of you just had an understanding. You became close quickly. 

You didn’t want to believe that Jason was dead. You didn’t want to believe that Bruce just let Joke get away with it. You wanted your brother back, you wanted Bruce to avenge him.

“I’m sorry, Jason,” You whisper. You wished you could have been there to save Jason. If only you had gotten to him sooner. Just 5 minutes would have made all the difference.

Your anger bubbles up to the surface all at once and before you know it, your punching the mirror until it’s all broken in the bathroom sink. Ignoring the stinging pain in your hand, you march out of the bathroom.

You storm out of your room and head toward the Batcave. You didn’t have to worry about running into your father. He’s either hiding in his room or out capturing other bad guys that have nothing to do with Jason’s death. Because apparently everyone else mattered while you, Dick and Jason were expendable.

Not to you, however. Your brothers were not expendable to you. They’re your world and the fact that you couldn’t protect Jason killed you. If Bruce wasn’t going to avenge him then that responsibility fell onto you.

You changed into your Sparrow uniform. By the time your pulling your mask on and making your way to your motorcycle, Alfred is entering the cave. You ignore him but he isn’t a man you can just ignore.

“Ms. Y/n?” He questions. You adjust your getup and swing your leg over the bike. Before you can turn the bike on, the man you’re closer to than your own father appears before you. “Where are you going?”

“Out,” You answer. He gives you a look but you don’t back down.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” He advises.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not asking for permission,” You snap. “Why don’t you go tend to daddy dearest and let me do what needs to be done?” Alfred looks even more concerned as you turn the bike on. You don’t allow yourself to feel guilty for being rude to Alfred. You have to stay focused.

You speed away from the manor and toward Gotham City. The Joker could be in a number of places but you knew who to ask to narrow down his location.

Before Jason’s death, you weren’t as ruthless as you were now. You were a happy medium between Bruce’s temperament and Jason’s. But now, you didn’t even recognize yourself anymore. 

You wanted blood.

You interrogated bad guy after bad guy. You left each of them in the streets, inches from death like the scum they were. You felt no sympathy for them as they struggled to breathe. You ignored their pleas for mercy and for help as you walked to your bike to find your next target.

You were so consumed on what you were doing and your goal to find the Joker that you didn’t realize you were being watched. And Bruce wasn’t the one stalking you.

“Where’s the Joker?!” You shouted before slamming your fist into the guys face. “Tell me!” You screamed. He grunted when you resorted to breaking his rips with your foot. You kicked him before he rolled onto his back prompting you to switch to stomping on his chest.

“Oh, you poor child,” A voice sounded from the shadows. In an instant, you whip the gun you had stolen out of the thigh holster and point it into the dark blindly.

“Show yourself,” You demand. You listen to the steps before a tall man comes into the moonlight. “Who are you?” You ask.

“Someone who can help you,” Your head tilts. “You can put that gun away, it cannot harm me.” He states.

“Who. Are. You?” 

“As I said, I’m someone who can help,” He says, sauntering closer to you. Your eyes narrow at him. “I know where the Joker is, I can take you to him,”

“Where is he?”

“I’ll tell you, but that information isn’t free,” He shakes his head.

“Tell me or you’ll end up like this deadbeat,” You motion to the man on the ground that’s slowly choking on his own blood. The man in front of you looks at him and smirks.

“You surely have potential... and you certainly have anger. Oh, so much anger,” He whispers coming forward. “You live on the need for vengeance. I can give it to you and so much more. All I want is to make a deal,”

“What kind of deal?” You ask, tilting your head. 

“I give you the Joker, and you give me your allegiance,” He says, stepping up to the end of the barrel of the gun. If you pull the trigger, the bullet goes straight through his heart.

“My allegiance?” You ask, slowly.

“You get the chance to finally sate your need for vengeance and you work for me.”

You stare into his eyes for a few moments before lowering your gun to the holster. He smirks and scoops you into his arms. Before you can ask a question he’s running at a speed that could outmatch the Flash.

“What the fuck?” You gasp when he comes to a stop and sets you down. “You’re a metahuman?”

“Not exactly,” He smirks. “I’ll explain everything once you’re finished. Inside is the Joker along with a lot of his friends. If you survive, you’ll be an excellent addition to my collection,” He states, prior to running off.

“Who the fuck is that guy?” You mutter to yourself. Sighing, you turn towards the building. A moment later, people start coming out. Large men in suits. They stop and look at you. A few draw their weapons. You smirk. “Who’s first?”

It took you a half an hour to reach the Joker. You’re not sure if you killed anyone, although it’s highly likely that you have. By the time you reach the pale skin fucker you’re covered in blood and bruises (maybe a bullet hole or two). Some of the blood is yours but most of it isn’t.

The Joker talks. He’s taunting you. Yet, you don’t really hear what he says. As you look at him, your mind is filled with images of Jason’s dead body. You stalk closer to him. 

You put your weapons away and pick up the crowbar you had found on a lower level. You had set it down in order to take care of the goons in the room quickly. 

But now you had the Joker right where you wanted him. You weren’t going to make this quick. Every time you brought the crowbar down on him, he only cackled loudly. Every strike just fueled your anger. 

You continued to beat him. At some point, his skull caved in but you continued to swing. You scream, tears falling down your face but you hardly notice. You just swing and swing until you collapse on the ground.

You let out one large, loud scream that echoes throughout the entire building. When you quiet down, your body curls into a tight ball and you begin to sob.

“Easy now, little one,” The inhuman man whispers, kneeling before you. “I’ll take your pain away,” He promises, picking you off the ground. “Rest now, I’ll look after you,” He whispers, racing you out of the building seconds before Batman shows up.

You don’t know how long you’re asleep, but when you wake up everything is different. You sit up from the unusually comfortable bed and look around. You don’t recognize where you are but at the moment it’s the least of your worries.

You never had absolutely perfect vision but now you’re eyes were acting like binoculars. You could see a far distance out the window and everything in clear detail that’s around you. Hell, you could even hear the cars going down the road miles from the house you’re in.

You move closer to the window but stop at the sound of the man who had taken you. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” You spin around toward him. You frown your eyebrows and look back to the window. You didn’t understand what he was warning you about. 

You soon find out when you step into the sunlight and find your skin heating up until it begins to burn. You gasp and speed to the other side of the room.

“What’s happening to me?” You whisper, watching your skin begin to blister. 

“Here, drink this,” He tosses you a bag. Your reflexes catch it. You want to ask what it is but your instincts take over as the smell reaches your nose. Within a minute, you have the bag drained of it’s liquid. 

When your done drinking, you look at the man. He nods to your arm and your eyes widen. You see your arm heal until there’s no trace of what had happened.

“Come, we have a lot to talk about,” You follow him down the hall. “My name is Vladimir but you may know me as Dracula,”

“Dracula?” You deadpan. “For real?”

“What? You do not believe that vampires are real? Even though you are one?” You stop walking. He stops as well and turns to you. “You are the daughter of Bruce Wayne, The Batman, you should be able to connect the dots,”

The blood, the enhanced senses, the vulnerability to light. You didn’t know how it was possible, but it was true. You were a vampire. You had made a deal with the devil... But oh, was it worth it.

****

“Whe-where am I?” A pale, redhead whimpers.

“Vicki Vale,” You state from the shadows. Your voice echoes off the walls making it impossible for her to pinpoint where you are. “So, you’re the one that’s obsessed with my father,” You growled. For a long time, the woman in front of you reported on both Bruce Wayne and Batman. She wrote article after article about him.

“Who are you?” She asks, in a shaky voice.

“Oh don’t worry, it’s not me you have to worry about,” You assure her, a smirk dancing on your lips.

“Alright, Y/n, that’s enough,” Vlad says coming into the room. Vicki gasps and turns to him. “Oh, you are beautiful,” Vlad whispers. “You will work perfectly,”

“Wh-what?” She whimpers, shying away from him.

“Y/n, leave Vicki to rest in peace, we have things to discuss,” Vlad calmly orders before turning to leave the room. You come out of the shadows, smirking when you startle her.

“So, she’ll work?” You ask him, the two of you walking toward his office.

“Yes, but we must move quickly. Your father and brother are causing trouble,” He tells you. Your head tilts at the information.

“They’ve killed more of your vampires?” You ask him.

“They found a way to cure them,” Vlad corrects you. “I need you to end them. I can’t afford to lose anymore vampires and I will not let them stop me from bringing Carmilla back,” He growls.

“Don’t worry, master, I’ll stop them,” You promise.

“I don’t want you to just stop them,” Vlad says, moving closer to you. “I want them dead and I want you to bring me their bodies. Do not fail me,” He growls.

“Have I ever?” You ask, smirking.

“Be quick about it,” Vlad orders. “The sun will be up in a few hours,”

****

“Viki Vale has gone missing,” Bruce informs Dick and Tim as he enters the Batcave. 

“Dracula?” Dick asks, crossing his arms in his Nightwing costume. His mask resting on the desk by Tim.

“He’s planning something. More and more people are being turned, we have to stop him before we’re too outnumbered.” Bruce says.

“Reports are coming in about a string of animal like murders in the Narrows. Fits vampire descriptions,” Tim says, reading the reports off the computer.

“Can you get a read on how many vampires there could be?” Dick asks.

“Doesn’t seem like a lot,” Tim mutters. “One, possibly two,”

“Let’s check it out,” Bruce orders. Tim nods standing up. He and Dick pull their masks on. Tim and Bruce get in the batmobile while Duke powers up the motorcycle. They both drive to the Narrows to investigate.

****

You hide in the shadows as the infamous Batman, Robin and Nightwing appear. You glare at the young Robin boy. Of course Bruce replaced Jason. It was typical for Bruce to replace someone. Fury fills your heart but you manage to control it knowing that if you waited a little longer, you would get the opportunity to unleash hell.

You didn’t want to hurt Dick. He’s your brother. But you didn’t have a choice. Vlad ordered you to kill them and that’s what you had to do. You wouldn’t necessarily take pleasure in killing your father and his newest protégé. However, you hoped that with Bruce’s death you would finally feel at peace with yourself.

You killed the Joker but your anger remained. You killed Jason’s bitch of a mother yet storm within you continued to rage. Maybe with the death of Batman you would finally know peace and tranquility. You didn’t blame Bruce for Jason’s death but you hated that he didn’t avenge him. You hated that he replaced him. That hatred mixed with your growing anger consumed you.

“This one’s still alive,” Dick announced, kneeling beside a woman. Bruce moved to kneel beside him while Tim wandered off. You smirked and followed him. You made some noise to draw him further from the others.

“You’re the new Robin, hmm?” You asked. Tim looked around. Technically, Tim wasn’t new. He had been at this for a couple of years now but you aren’t exactly up to date on the world around you. You’ve been training and isolated from the world for a long time. So, while Tim isn’t exactly new, he’s new to you.

He took a defensive stance but it wouldn’t do any good against you. You could kill him with a flick of your finger.

“We can help you,” Tim says, his eyes searching for you. “You don’t have to do this, you don’t have to be a vampire,”

“Oh, but I want to be,” You smirk, walking around him but continued to stay out of sight. Tim looks confused by your statement.

“We have a cure,” Tim states. You sneak up behind him.

“I don’t want it,” You whisper, in his ear. By the time he spins around, you’re out of sight. You grin, loving the sound of his heart hammering in his chest. “Tell me, what do you know about the Robin before you?”

“What?” Tim asks, tensing.

“You’re not Jason Todd,” You growl. Tim becomes increasingly more nervous. “So, may I know the name of his replacement?” You spit. He doesn’t answer you. “Fine, don’t answer, doesn’t matter anyway,” 

Tim tenses as things fall eerily silent. He goes to fall for back up but before he can finish the first syllable he’s lifted off the ground. You hand becomes tighter and tighter around his throat.

“You’re not Jason and you will never be him,” You growl, glaring at him. Tim choke, gripping your wrist but your grip doesn’t falter. His eyes widen a fraction as he recognizes you.

All throughout the mansion there’s picture of you. Dick talks about you all the time. He knows who you are but he can’t believe it. Bruce assumed you were dead, Dick insisted you were just missing. For nearly 7 years Dick worked to find you. Almost every spare moment went into finding some clue about you but you had vanished. 

“If you were,” You smirked. “You would have been able to take me down... You’re pathetic... Weak,” You bring him closer to your face. He struggles to breathe, looking even more terrified when your fangs extend. “And I’m so hungry,” 

Before you can feed on him, you’re knocked to the ground. You let Tim go as you tumble away. The boy collapses on the ground, coughing and struggling to breath in.

“Has anyone ever told you not to get between a vampire and her meal?” You growled, standing up. You turn to the man who had tackled you and smirked. There, only two feet away, is your older brother.

“Y/n,” Dick whispers, his defenses falling.

“Hey, big brother,” You wink. You take advantage of his astonishment and attack. You don’t even realize it but you’re holing back. You’re not going as fast as you could nor are you striking with all your strength. Hell, you’re barely hitting him with 20% power.

“Y/n! Stop! This isn’t you!” Dick shouts but you don’t listen to him. You grab his shoulders and fling him into a nearby wall. He collapses and struggles to breath.

“I’m not you’re little sister, anymore Dickie Poo,” You say, stalking up to him. “And all you are to me is a meal,”

“Then why haven’t you killed me yet?” Dick groaned pushing himself up. You freeze for just a moment but Dick notices it.

“What can I say? I’ve always liked playing with my food,” You growled, trying to cover up your hesitance.

“You’ve always been a shit liar, sis,” Dick teases. You hiss as he stands. “You’ll always be my baby sister, you’re just more of a pain in my ass right now,” He smirks putting up his hands. “And you hit like a bitch,”

Crying out, you attack Dick once again. This time you hold back even less but you’re still not aiming to kill him. It angers you as you hear Vlad’s comment in the back of your mind. Your vampiric instincts are fighting against your humanity. 

Just when you’re about to give into your inclination to follow your masters orders a batarang sinks into your arm. It snaps you out of your instinctual daze. You look at it before following it’s path. You’re eyes land on Batman. For the first time in years you stare into your fathers eyes.

Before anything can happen, something catches your attention. You turn your head and watch the sun begin to peak over the buildings. You’re out of time.

“Wait!” Dick shouts reaching for you but you’re already gone.

****

You stand in front of Vlad for a solid five minutes. Five minutes of absolute silence. Intense, awkward, silence. You barely have the strength to hold his gaze for these few minutes but know if you look away you’ll look weak.

“I told you not to fail me,” Vlad tells you.

“I underestimated the skill of-”

“You’re a vampire!” Vlad shouts. It takes everything in you to not flinch. “You have the strength of a hundred men! I could possibly forgive you not being able to defeat your father, I failed that as well. However, you couldn’t kill an 18 year-old boy? Or your older brother?” Vlad asks, walking toward you.

“My humanity got in the way,” Vlad backhands you harshly.

“Your humanity,” Vlad says slowly. “For 6 year I’ve been working so hard to perfect you and yet here you are, a disappointment.” He spits.

“I’ll make it up to you,” You promise.

“You will,” Vlad nods, walking back to his seat. “And if you fail me again. I will rip your heart out,” You bow to him. “Wait for my word in your room,”

“Yes, master,” 

****

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Tim asks, his voice horas. You had bruise his throat pretty good. It was a miracle he was able to talk at all at the moment.

“If anyone is going to get through to her, it’s him,” Dick assures him. Tim presses his lips together and follows his brother into the worn down building.

“How do we know he’ll even help?” Tim wonders.

“Because it’s Y/n,” Dick answers simply. Tim glances at him but says nothing else.

“You’ve got a lot of balls to come here, Dick,” Tim and Dick spin around to face Red Hood. Tim is in a defensive stance remembering the last time they had crossed paths. Red Hood and him fought, Tim barely escaping hospital time.

“Relax,” Dick mutters to Tim.

“What are you doing here, Dick?” He asks, looking around for Batman.

“Bruce isn’t here... It’s just us,” Dick assures him. They stare at each other for a moment before he takes off his red mask. “Jason,” Dick nods. Jason ignores the greeting and walks around them to get to his stuff. “Y/n’s alive,” Jason freezes completely. “We saw her a few hours ago,”

“Where?” Jason asks, keeping his back to them.

“Have you come across any vampires?” Dick asks. Jason turns to them.

“They’ve been crawling around town like cockroaches,” Jason says.

“Y/n’s one of them,” Dick tells him. “She attacked us a few hours ago. She tried to kill us but didn’t follow through.”

“We think that she still has some humanity left,” Tim says.

“I know she’s still in there.” Dick insists. “She could have very easily killed Tim and I but she held back,” Jason looks at the bruise around Tim’s throat. 

“She still mourns you,” Tim tells him. “If she knew you were alive, maybe we can get her back. If we can get her back to the mansion, we can cure her,”

****

“Everything is in place,” Vlad says. You stand in the background watching him. On the tables in the middle of the room lay two women. One is Vlad’s beloved Carmilla. The other is Viki Vale. The plan was to transfer Viki’s life essence into Carmilla to bring her back to life.

“Master,” A newly turned vampire interrupts. Vlad turns to her. “Batman, Robin and Nightwing have arrived.” Vlad snarls and turns to you.

“They must not stop the transference,” Vlad tells you.

“I will kill them once and for all master,” You vow.

“Kill the Batman, capture Robin and Nightwing. Take them to my office and keep them there,” Vlad orders. You tilt your head but nod.

“As you wish,” You bow and exit the room. You hunt down the three men but only find two of them; Dick and Tim. “I see your stubbornness has only increased with age,” You state standing at one end of the hall while they stand on the other. They look a little worn down but you can tell they still have plenty of energy.

“Guess I spent too much time around you as kids,” Dick shrugs, twirling his batons. 

“You should have stayed away,” You tell them, cursing yourself for how soft your voice had gotten. Your humanity, yet again, was showing. You pushed it back and locked it in a box but the little slip up was enough to confirm to both Dick and Tim that you could still be saved.

“You’ve been gone a long time, little sister,” Dick states. “It’s time to bring you home,”

“This is home,” You hiss. Dick shakes his head.

“This is a prison,” Dick corrects you. You smirk.

“You once said the same about Wayne Manor,” You remind him. You stare at him and your eyes flicker to Tim. “Join me,” You suggest. “We can give you the power you can only dream of,” You say, stepping closer to him. “We can be a family again,” You whisper, your humanity coming up once more. You allow it, for now.

“We can be a family,” Dick agrees. You perk slightly. “When you’re cured and back at the Manor,” Your face turns sour.

“Fuck the Manor,” You spat. “Fuck Bruce and Fuck Batman,” You hiss. “You think he cares?”

“He does!” Tim snaps. You laugh.

“Where did he pick you up from?” You ask Tim. “You must have a past. Bruce never takes in anybody mentally stable,”

“We’re not talking about that right now,” Dick cuts in. “If you don’t want to go to the manor, fine. Come with me,” Dick suggests. “I have an apartment in Bludhaven. You can stay with me... It’ll be like old times,” You’re so tempted to give in.

“I can’t,” You shake your head. “This is who I am now, this is where I belong,”

“No, you belong with us,” Dick insists.

“I haven’t belonged with you in years,” You mutter but he hears it. “I’m happy to see you alive, Dick... But you really should have stayed away,” You said, your voice hardening.

“We don’t have to do this,” Dick says. He and Tim fall into a defensive stance.

“I won’t go back,” You tell him. “Not with you, not with him and certainly not with Bruce,” You growl. “Why can’t you see that you’re not worth anything to him! All you are is an expendable tool! He’ll just replace you when you’re done being useful to him,”

“That’s a lie!” Tim shouts.

“Oh really?” You ask. “Then why are you standing here? Tell me, how long did he wait to replace Jason with you?” You wonder. “You’re nothing to him and when you die, he’ll move on like he always does and not give you a second thought!”

“You’re head is twisted, Y/n! You’re blinded by hatred and anger and grief, let us help you!” Dick pleads.

“No, I don’t need your help,” You growl racing toward them. Tim and Dick put up a good fight but you were done letting your humanity control you. Before they could pull any fancy tricks like they used to stop the other vampires, you knocked them out cold. Grabbing them by their collars you drag them to Vlad’s office. You lock them inside before hunting down your father.

You find him in the transference room fighting Vlad. You quickly join your master. With the both of you fighting against Batman, you’re beginning to overpower him. Until he uses a UV light which causes you and Vlad to scream in pain. When it’s gone, you slowly begin to heal.

“No! No! No!” Vlad screams seeing Vicki has disappeared before the transference  could complete. “NO!” You force yourself to a stand. You gasp when Vlad appears before you and grabs you by the throat. You struggle against him but he’s a great deal stronger than you. “I told you to kill him!” He snarls. You try to talk but he’s crushing your windpipe. “You’ve failed me for the last time,” He goes to rip your heart out when he’s pull away from you.

You fall to the ground and shake the dizziness from your head. You look up and see a grappling hook in Vlad’s chest. A man by the door holds the string and continues to pull Vlad from you until he gets his footing and yanks the man to him. You watch as Vlad throws him across the room.

“You vigilantes are a disease,” Vlad growls stalking toward him. You force yourself to stand. You feel your thirst begin to rise as your healing completes. 

Fresh blood gains your attention. You turn to the door seeing Dick and Tim at the entrance. You figured you had the guy in the red mask to thank for their escape

“Ah, look at this,” Vlad claps his hands. “A family reunion,” The red mask guy pushes himself up, grimacing at the pain in his back. “If you want another chance to live, Y/n,” Vlad turns toward you. “I want you to kill your brothers,”

You turn to Dick and Tim. They’re eyeing you as you eye them. The human voice in your head gets smaller and smaller as your animal instincts and need for blood overcome you.

“Kill them,” Vlad orders. Unable to fight his order, you advance to Dick. You stop when a clunk of stone is throne at your head. It doesn’t hurt you but it gets your attention. Your head snaps to the red mask guy with a growl.

“You on your period or something sis?” Your entire body freezes at the sound of his voice. No, it’s not possible. “You know how you get during that time of the month... I swear you turn into a fucking gremlin,” He raises his hands and takes the mask off. “Or, I guess, in this case a vampire,” Jason smirks.

“No,” You whisper shaking your head. “It’s not possible... You... you’re dead,”

“Didn’t stick,” He shrugs with that arrogant smirk of his. “Amazing what a Lazarus pit can do, huh?” Your breath hitches in your throat. It was possible.

“Y/n,” Vlad says regaining your attention instantly. “Kill. Them.” Your humanity vanished. With a hiss, you turn to attack Jason when Dick’s voice reaches your ears.

“You’re not expendable,” Dick states. You don’t look at him but it’s obvious you’re listening. “You mean so much more to us. We’re here for you and we’re not leaving without you. You’re one of us, not this creature he’s turned you in,”

“You know how much I hate agree with Dickwad,” Jason chuckles. “But on this, I do. Look, we’ve both changed over the years and that’s fine but that doesn’t change the fact that we’re brothers and you’re our sister. You went against father and killed the Joker for me. You beat the shit out of that one girl that cheated on Dick. You’ve stood up against Bruce for both of us on more than one occasion. You’ve always been there but now we’re here for you. It’s time to come home. Come with us,”

“Kill them!” Vlad shouts. Your eyes screw shut as you struggle between obeying Vlad and listening to your brothers. Realization hits Tim like a freight train.

“Don’t listen to him!” Tim encourages you. It finally made sense. All the vampires they came across were unnaturally loyal to Dracula. It was like they had forgotten their human lives and followed him. He figured it was just instinct but it was something more than that. Vampires were connected to their creator, Dracula, on a level they had severely underestimated. Tim theorized that Dracula had gotten to you, changed you, and manipulated/forced you to follow him. You had to follow his orders but that didn’t mean you wanted to.

You showed multiple signs of humanity. Dick and Jason were you’re anchors to your human side. If you could fight against Dracula’s orders then you could sever the connection. If that happened, getting you back to the manor and cured would be much easier.

“He’s the one who doesn’t care! He’s the one who believes you’re expendable, not us! We care about you, we’ll help you but you have to break his hold over you!” Tim said as clearly but as quickly as he could.

“Shut up!” Vlad shouted turning toward him. Before he could attack, Jason launches a wooden stake at him. It doesn’t kill him but it knocks them to the ground. “Kill them, Y/n! Kill them right now!”

You groan. Your hands grip your hair and begin to pull. You felt as if your head was being torn apart. You fall to your knees. A large part of you wanted to kill them, needed to kill them. Yet a big enough part of you didn’t.

“Y/n,” Jason says, softly. He slowly knelt a few feet in front of you. 

“Kill me,” You whimper, looking into his eyes. “I can’t hold myself back for long,”

“You can,” Jason encourages you. “You’re not going to hurt me, Dick or Tiny Tim,” Tim scowls but remains silent. “You’re Y/n Y/L/N. You were turned when you were 18 years old but you’re 24. You’re favorite food is y/f/f and your favorite show is y/f/s. You always let me sneak into your room if I was having trouble sleeping and you always helped me through the bad days just like I did for you. We look after each other, we have since we met each other. That didn’t stop when I died and it isn’t going to stop since you’re a vampire,”

In the corner of your eye you see Dick and Tim going to end Vlad. Something within you snaps. You snarl and before you know it you’re protecting your master. Before you can reach Dick and Tim, something pierces your shoulder. You look down to see a similar grappling hook hooked into you.

You gasp as Jason yank you back. You snarl and struggle but Jason is able to fight against you allowing Dick and Tim to destroy your master.

“No! NO!” You scream. The pain of your bond to Dracula is excoriating. You scream and writhe on the ground.

“It’s alright sis,” Jason whispers, knocking you out with a special tool they used on all the other vampires. “You’re safe now,” He whispers picking you up. “How do we cure her?”

“We have a serum at the manor,” Tim says,

“Bring it to my place,” Jason ordered. Tim goes to argue but Dick lays a hand on his shoulder. Dick nods and Jason nods back.

****

When you wake up you have the worst hangover known to man. You groan, your hand slapping your forehead. You try to think about what could have given you this feeling but you get nothing. Until everything comes rushing back to you a minute later.

All the killings, Dracula and the whole vampire ordeal hardly phases you. What makes your heart quench is the man you saw before you passed out.

“Jason!” You cry out, sitting up quickly. The motion causes you to groan again.

“Easy, easy,” You’re gently pushed back onto the bed. “Welcome back to the land of the living,” Opening your eyes, you look at Jason. You really look at him. He still has that spark, that anger in his eyes but there’s also relief and happiness. You lift your hand and gently caress his face. He leans into your touch.

“You’re real,” You whisper.

“Yeah, I’m real,” He whispers, tears coming to his eyes. “I thought I lost you there for a second,” He laughs.

“I did lose you,” You whimper. 

“I know, I’m so sorry,” Jason gently pushes you over and climbs into the bed. You instantly hug him with all your might. “I’m here now and I won’t be leaving your side for a damn long time,”

“You saved me,” You whisper. “You, Dick and Tim,” You whimper the tears coming down your face.

“You just got a little lost for a while,” Jason muttered. “You would do the same if any one of us was in your position,” You nod, snuggling into his chest. He rubs circles into your back. “Everything’s going to be ok, now... You’re cured, Dracula’s dead and you’re with me,”

“Can I stay with you?” You whisper, looking up at him.

“I thought I told you that you weren’t leaving my side for a long time,” Jason smirks. “We have 6 years to catch up on and I need my big sis to keep my head on straight,”

“I need you too, Jason...” You whisper. “God, do I need you,” You snuggle back into his chest. He kisses the top of your head and holds you even tighter. “I was so lost without you,”

“Shh.. You don’t have to worry about living without me again,” Jason promises.

“Good... Because next time, you die I die,” Jason smirks.

“We’re going to be one kick ass team,” Jason mutters. You grin closing your eyes. The both of you got the first real sleep you had since Jason died.

[awildgingeishere]

https://equalizersoccer.com/2021/03/05/christen-press-forward-position-training-profile-uswnt/

Christen Press is known for scoring world-class goals. The onlooking public swoons over the final product which is so often a picturesque finish bent into the side netting or hammered into the upper corner. Press often does this with such confidence that she makes the extraordinary look easy, even though it is anything but.

That final product, though, is in some ways the simpler part of the process. Press’ training habits and approach to the game embody the notion that most of an athlete’s work is done away from the public eye, on training fields and when nobody else is watching. Her unique approach to the game starts with individual training, where her focus on off-ball movement and manipulating tight spaces — rather than shooting for the sake of it, or individual dribbling drills — develops her ability to distinguish herself from any other forward. More than most, she can seamlessly transition between wide and center-forward roles.

“I think especially in the U.S., we don’t have as many players that manipulate space with off-ball movement,” Press said in an interview last year. “[It’s] something I learned in Europe and I think all European forwards do this, but we don’t often have players who do that. We typically have had players who are using strength to create space. So, I think when I play in the nine specifically, but even wide, my strength is off-ball movement, being very unpredictable, hard to mark, being dynamic and being kind of like blindside, off-ball so that I’m always stretching the line. And I think that’s a huge strength because it gives the midfield more room to play.”

All goal-scorers require a certain level of selfishness to be successful, which Press recognizes. What sets her apart is the execution in those moments. To paraphrase her teammate, Megan Rapinoe, you can always make a selfish decision to shoot and not pass… as long as you score.

“In the final third, I think I’ve always had a goal-scorer’s mentality,” Press said. “Once I’m in range of shooting, I don’t think about anything else. If I happen to pass, it’s because I couldn’t have shot. And I think that there’s a breed of players that are just wired that way. And then there’s a breed of players that play the same position that aren’t. I am wired like that, and there’s also pros and cons to it, but my first thought is always setting my feet to score, setting my feet to take a touch and then score. And then anything else that happens in that space is just a second option, honestly.”

***

Press blazed her own path to being a United States women’s national team regular. She left the U.S. club scene in 2012 to play in Sweden, feeling as though she needed to make a change after largely being left out of the U.S. picture by then head coach Pia Sundhage. Her back story has been recounted ad nauseam over the past decade, but it is still essential to understanding the person and the player – a do-everything forward who has been shaped by these experiences. Her path is unique among her peers of the same generation, and it shows in her different approach to playing forward.

Press famously thrived in Gothenburg, becoming the first American to win the Damallsvenskan’s golden boot. That move abroad — at a time when U.S. internationals not only were not playing abroad, but were actively discouraged from doing so — ironically solidified her place in the United States team ever since. Her goal in last month’s SheBelieves Cup against Argentina was her 60th, tying her with Shannon MacMillan for ninth in U.S. history.

Press grew up as a pure No. 9, a goal-scorer. She carried on with that through college, lighting up the scoring record books at Stanford, and used that to her advantage during that glorious first stretch of her career in Sweden. Cracking the national team was a different story. Abby Wambach was the incumbent No. 9 at the time, often alongside Amy Rodriguez, and Alex Morgan — who graduated college the same year as Press — burst onto the scene as the U.S.’ up-and-coming No. 9, meaning Press was often relegated to wide positions.

For a long time, Press’ place there felt shoehorned, no doubt a contributing factor to a relatively quiet World Cup in 2015, when she was pegged by so many to be the breakout star. Slowly, however, she adapted, choosing to accept whichever role she was given if it meant playing for the best team in the world. Now, she thrives in both wide and central roles. The difference was tangible at the 2019 World Cup, where the wide role which once looked so uncomfortable for Press was the one which she stepped into for the semifinal against England, due to Megan Rapinoe’s injury. Press scored 10 minutes into that impromptu start, helping the U.S. reach (and win) a second straight final.

“I think that I have more of a responsibility than any other forward to play in all the roles as needed and I think that’s historically been because I’ve been a substitute coming on,” she said. “So, you kind of have to be ready for whoever’s coming out; you’re the first sub on. And now, I think it’s just flexibility because I’ve done it and I’ve done it okay in several positions that everyone’s like, ‘oh, well she can.’ So, I think that’s a blessing and a curse. It gets you on a roster to be versatile, but I feel like having a stake on the field is like you’re in one position and you’re always going to show up in that position. I think that that has its pros as well.”

Today, it is accepted as fact that Press can play across all three positions on the front line: center forward, wide left and wide right. For years, that versatility was a burden she carried, a struggle through the purgatory of being an elite player without a defined position. Now, however, she has leveraged this to her advantage. Press has for so long juggled different forward positions that she has mastered each of them. Her lack of a defined position contributes to the outside world’s inability to explicitly qualify her greatness, but it is also the very thing which makes Press such a singular talent.

Her shift throughout the front line illustrates how the forward position varies between certain roles, even if in nuanced ways. Press said the definitions are a little more blurred in this system, and that each forward shares the responsibility to get in behind and score, but the physical difference in where each position lines up on the field affects how she plays each position.

“I think technically it is very different playing in the different positions, because your orientation is just completely changed,” she said. “And I think my whole career, I played with the offside line behind me. That’s a nine. So, playing wide for the first time was really hard because you see the whole game through one eye. And your dominant foot and your mobility of your hips — I know it sounds crazy — really affects what you can and can’t do on each side. But now I’ve been passed around so many times, I feel like I’m like, okay, my second eye is — I can still see out of this one.”

***

Press views each offseason as a little book of its own. In past years, she would write a draft of what those figurative chapters would be, listing the things she wanted to improve in her game and designing drills to achieve those goals. Press said that she has had trainers in the past, but nobody knows what she needs better than her.

She tries to balance the design of her training sessions to work on skills she thinks she is exceptional at and areas where she thinks she is not very good. Anything in between gets lost. This is where those subtle foundations are formed daily.

“I have a very regimented way that I train, a flow of when I control practice, this is how it flows,” Press said. “Within each segment of my training, I’ll have specific things that I’m working on, and always starting in the beginning of training with the most simple drills that you would never actually see a professional do —really, really childish and then just working on the mechanics and growing from there.”

Press points to quick-release shooting as one of these simple things she trains: she starts as basic as lining up a bag of balls on the six-yard line and quickly shooting with only one step, to work on generating power. Press executes this better than any other teammate and that is because she has, through the years, taken what is seemingly a disadvantage and figured out a way to create an advantage out of it.

Instead of viewing the ball as stuck under her feet, Press sees an opportunity to catch a defender between steps or a goalkeeper flat-footed. Whereas many forwards are especially dangerous when barreling down the field at speed, Press might be the best goal-scorer in the world from a standing-still position in open play. She trains that — again, by beginning simply. Press will line up a bag of balls on the six-yard line and shoot in quick succession, taking only one step back to reset. This is the foundation of generating power.

“I think that if I look through the years [at] the space I train in, it’s in that exact ‘D,’” she said, referencing the arch at the top of the 18-yard box. “And I think the way that you most often score there is using your defenders as a shield and a little bit into negative space, and then bending the ball. I think that’s absolutely my best way of scoring.

“And I think that’s because of my strengths. I can get into the pocket with speed often. I don’t actually like dribbling around defenders very much. I don’t practice dribbling so I’ve got one way to get by them, but I often work on manipulating my defenders so they can’t block my shot, rather than working on manipulating them so I can get by them. And I think that’s why then I developed a shot that I can take basically with the ball under my feet and generate a lot of power, because it’s unexpected for the goalkeeper and it’s out of reach for the defender.”

Training this type of skill is very intentional. Even on a field by herself, with no active defenders, Press knows that if she takes four steps before a shot, she has failed. In a game, with real defenders, she will have been tackled or her shooting window will have closed.

Soccer is about a feeling, Press says. U.S. Soccer sends film to players after each training session so they can self-evaluate. Press says she does not look at how she performed technically, but rather what her body language said about her approach to a given training session.

She has not gone without dry spells or rough patches, from the more subtle grind of transitioning to wide roles and changing teams, to the more obvious and overt moments, such as the penalty-kick shootout miss in the 2016 Olympic quarterfinal against Sweden.

There is a notion that forwards need short memories, to not dwell on such misses. Press said she views things slightly differently, borrowing some inspiration from fellow teammates.

“I think instead of even a short memory, I always told myself since I was a young person: the more I miss, the closer I am to my next goal,” she said. “Because it’s almost like once you play long enough, you’ve missed so many times that it’s no longer emotional. I guess a certain miss in a certain moment might be, but even those, I’ve done it; I’ve missed as bad as you can miss and I’ve let the team [down]. So, life goes on and I feel like if I’m in a game and I’ve missed an easy goal, that means the next one, I’m gonna score. Because I’ve missed a million easy goals before, and I’ve always scored again. So, that’s kind of how I approach it and I actually think I see this a bit in Carli [Lloyd]. If she ever misses an easy chance, she kind of becomes ravenous. She hunts and hunts because she wants to replace that memory with something else, and I try to even embody that a bit, where I’m even more hungry in the final part of that field.”

Lloyd and Press combined for a goal against England at the 2020 SheBelieves Cup. The play was a microcosm of all these things: Press intentionally drifting into open space on the opponent’s back line before receiving the ball, opening her hips to face up to goal in one fluid motion, and firing a quick shot which caught England’s defenders and goalkeeper by surprise. The camera angle from behind Press showed just how much the ball bent to tuck into the side netting. ESPN announcer Sebastian Salazar screamed a phrase which quickly made its way to a t-shirt: “Christen Press, what have you done?!”

It was another spectacular goal from Press, one worthy of all the plaudits it received. What had she done? Well, it was the same she has been doing for a long time, drifting between forward positions and scoring a noteworthy goal from skills she has developed away from the public eye."

[gandrewheadcannons]

I wanted to share some writing I had done earlier this summer with you all! If you like it let me know if I should continue? It’s meant to be a story focusing around the beginning of their time in Washington and into the podcast. I’ve left it at a really weird stop but that’s all I had so far.

Title: Undetermined

Pairing: Garrett Watts/Andrew Siwicki

Tags: Mention of prescription medicine, mention of Jeffree/Shane/Ryland, unfinished

Evening is dimly creeping through the half-opened windowpane casting a glow across the built-in table connected to the cramped inner wall of Andrew's microscopic kitchenette. His studio apartment in LA sat cramped in-between Hollywood and Calabasas, a mediocre waypoint for his work for the last few years. He clicks the viewfinder and focuses on the bright oranges and yellows that dance teasingly across the glittering tabletop; catching flicks of sliver and reflecting them back to the lens. A mug of dark roast with just an edge of too much cream is left forgotten in the corner of the frame. It feels cinematic and lonely all at once. The cafe style booth he sits in causes his back to ache, the rest of the kitchen a sterile and unforgiving white, but he misses capturing the day to day beauty the world had to offer. He imagines the reel being played back with a layered sound of twinkling windchimes, quiet laughter and a piano reverb with cuts of the morning sunrise on a hike and steam off the top of a ceramic mug. A familiar face with flecks of blonde in the beard, strong jawed and a roguish smile weaving in and out of the frame, turning back to laugh at something the cameraman said.

“-with a mandate like this.” Garrett is brushing his teeth through Facetime. Andrew catches the corner of his bamboo toothbrush flashing in and out of the lens. He must have laid his Iphone flat on the countertop because when Andrew really looks he can see the bottom of the mirror and a bunch of bright light.

“I know. It sucks. Couldn’t get honey the other day, man. Fucking honey. It’s not like the bees are going anywhere.” He laughs but it doesn’t feel funny. The minimal supply he had was dwindling thin. He was beginning to ration his meals and he wasn’t sure how much toilet paper was left under the bathroom sink. It was all very apocalyptic without any of the zombies or scientists swooping in with immediate remedies.

“Ah dude.” Garrett spits and there’s a tapping sound like he’s hitting his toothbrush on the edge of the porcelain sink before he fully pops into frame. He looks relaxed, sandy hair flopped to one side and beard properly scruffy though they’d only been locked down about a week and a half now. “I know. I can’t handle it anymore. I miss people.” Andrew hums at that. He doesn’t really. He misses the occasional gathering, sure, but he hadn’t quite placed his anxiety surrounding the idea of seeing others since they’d released the Jeffree series. "What was it that bothered you most about taking part in this?" His therapist had asked him. "I missed the fun," he’d answered. "What was the fun?" She’d pressed deeper. "Garrett," Andrew had been quick to reply. "And like. Everyone else too." He'd added when she hadn't said anything. "I miss it not feeling work." She had let him talk about that instead.

"Some people." He tacks on to Garrett who hums easily. He doesn’t think he misses many of the people he’d spent most of 2019 with, his life a mixed cocktail of Ambien, Adderall and Lexapro without any feelings of relaxation manifesting. His psychiatrist had discouraged upping his doses anymore and by early January she began urging him to begin seeking new opportunities to “work on his environment”. He hadn’t quite figured out the avenue to take to do just that.

"Well, some people." Garrett agrees and he's already back out on his couch. "I don't know how many more times I can watch Winter Soldier before I freak out." Garrett sighs. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing. Same as you and every other person." He turns his camera off. He needs the break from the screen.

"I miss you." Garrett is easy like that. He isn't ashamed to tell people how he feels in every moment. It was something to be admired and yet Andrew just felt envy at it. When Garrett had begun to slip away from him, melting like honeydew sweet and sour into a depth of a place where Andrew couldn't quite find him, he'd only managed to grab him back out by Garrett's honesty. Doesn't know if they'd be having this conversation if Garrett hadn't used that honesty like an anchor and letting Andrew catch him last minute with it.

"I can come over." Andrew offers. He hates being confined in these walls anyways. It was hollow and dark. The email from Shane still sat open on his Mac across the room on his bed. Thinking of extending the break, can't really decide. Want to get quarantined together? I have a few video ideas we could maybe mess around with or just film some day to day footage until creativity strikes us it reads. His skin itches for the company but the image of their guest room makes him uneasy. Doesn't know if he could withstand being there with very little to fill his hands with, editing complete and no real ideas on the table for the time being.

"I can come to you." Garrett offers like he was inconveniencing Andrew who had offered anyways.

"If you touch your car right now I am going to freak out Garrett Watts." Andrew admonishes. "The second they open up the garages and mechanics again I'm making you take that thing there, burn it and we get a new one." He's opening a duffle now and throwing in his travel toiletries and a few pairs of underwear.

"Oh come on Andrew it's not so bad." Garrett laughs as if Andrew wasn't still reeling from the aftermath phone call of Garrett nearly wrecking on the 101 barreling top speeds until he reached a secluded patch of grass to slow his Pirus down onto. By the time Andrew heard the story Garrett was okay; Michael had gone to pick him up and Garrett was sending pictures of little Star Wars figurines that Michael kept mounted on his dashboard. His heart didn’t calm until he had managed to get his hands on Garrett in person though, sneaking out for an afternoon to grab some coffee with Garrett before heading back to Shane’s to finish editing. His shins still feel heavy with the weight of Garrett’s calf as he’d pressed their knees together until the table while they’d talked – the weight reminding him of how alive and okay Garrett really was.

"Oh yeah a car that dies out randomly is really great." Andrew throws in a box of protein bars and a Gatorade into his bag. He hesitates before grabbing a stitched bear made from gray yarn, green buttons for eyes luring him in. "I'll be over soon." He doesn't know how well the conversation will hold up over Facetime as he's moving.

"Okay cool Andrew." Garrett's eyes are soft. "See you soon. My dad is actually calling."

"Tell him I said hi. See you soon." He so easily could tack on endearment, babe at the tip of his tongue burning hot. Garrett's ending the call before Andrew even has the chance.

**

The half opened can of frosting is across from, the only lights on are the ones twinkling from some intricate set up Garrett had on a shelf. Garrett’s on the third loop of the home screen on Prime, humming thoughtfully whenever he pauses on a summary to read but then continuing to scroll before picking one. He’s slumped down low, long legs kicked out on the coffee table while Andrew is curled up in a ball against his side. Once, Caleb had pointed out that if people didn’t know them they’d get the impression that they were dating. Garrett and Andrew had awkwardly laughed at that comment, tinged with humiliation at how their relationship was being interpreted. They tried to be better then, not letting themselves fall so in sync when other people were around.

Andrew loved it like this though, when it was just him and Garrett, so he could press his cheek into Garrett’s bicep and not have to question why it felt so right. In his left hand his phone illuminated with another message from Shane. Opening it he read a message about how much they all missed him and wanted him there during this time. Apparently Ryland was looking for someone to help film a video he had planned. He quickly shut the screen off and pulled back from Garrett some, his stomach in a sudden tangle of knots.

“Good?” Garrett asked him looking down. His crew neck was for Spokane and looked a little like the Taco Bell logo from when they were younger. He’d paired it with a pair of sweat shorts for the night as they were both supposed to be going to bed soon. Andrew picked at his own Adidas track pants, imagining a loose thread to busy his hands.

“You ever just. Feel like you gotta get out?” He tilts his head to the side and watches Garrett pause what he’s doing with his Playstation controller and set it carefully on his coffee table.

“In what way?” He asks thoughtfully, turning so his chest was open to Andrew. Their knees bumped and Andrew felt like a little boy when he wished he could crawl and hide in the empty space of Garrett’s lap.

“Like okay. Say you just really loved what you used to do. You basically achieved your dream job. You have all these amazing people, you like your boss, things are going really great and you’re making a lot of money.”

“You buy yourself a really good vacuum.” Garrett plays along teasingly causing them both to laugh.

“You get yourself those stackable containers for your meal prepped lunches.” Andrew plays back. “But then…” He runs his tongue inside his teeth then outside methodically. He searches his brain to try to figure out what to say to Garrett to

“Then?” He drums his fingers on Andrew’s knees to get him back to the present.