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soulmate-game · 3 years

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Hawkmoth was a bitch, and Marinette meant that with every fiber of her soul. Fu was also a bitch, and Marinette actually had good memories of the guy. Not many, but she had some. The fact that the guy got two ten-year-olds to become super heroes and fight a supervillain for him kinda soured those memories, though. But with Chat Noir not allowed to leave his house? Yeah, even as young as they were it only took about a year to find out who HawkMoth was and another year to take him down.

Except, that left Marinette alone. The final battle took her mom away, and Chat had to move out of Paris after his dad was arrested. Luckily Jagged allowed her and her papa to move into his house in Gotham, and everything was…

Well, it was okay. For about a month.

Then her dad was gone too, and she had no way to talk to Jagged, and the police were scaring her—

Yeah, that was the basic order of events that led to where she was now. Pushing fourteen years old, ex-superhero, protector of a magical box of gods, stealing the tires off of a very nice motorcycle.

Marinette was tempted to just take the whole thing, she loved bikes and knew she could drive it. But the thing had more security than she knew what to do with, and the fact that it belonged to Red Hood… she didn’t want to deal with trackers today, thanks. So the tires it was.

Should she maybe care more about the fact that she was stealing from a vigilante with a violent streak? Maybe. Did she? Hell no. For all she knew, maybe Red Hood was a bitch too. (Yes, she was still learning English slang. She was fluent by educational standards, but learning how to curse in a foreign language was fun and she still had a little bit to go. Her few street friends were very happy to help).

A shadow dropped down in front of her, and Marinette’s hero instincts kicked in. The tire iron she was using cut through the air, slamming right into the side of Red Hood’s knee.

—*—*—*—*—*

“Hood,” Batman’s voice grumbled over the comms, instantly grabbing the attention of everyone else who was on the comms. It wasn’t as gruff as he usually sounded, in fact it almost sounded like… he was trying not to laugh?

“Did you get gassed by Joker?” Dick asked before Jason got a chance to respond. “Need backup?”

“No,” Batman responded, sounding a little more composed. “Not a rogue. But Hood, I need you to join me at my location as soon as possible.”

Finally getting the chance to talk, Jason responded a little warily; “Sure, B. Wait,” he blinked at the location that was sent to him. “Isn’t that where my bike is parked?”

Batman didn’t respond at first, only the sound of labored breathing— again, as if he was trying not to laugh. “Just get here, Hood.”

Sighing, but not too mad since the night had been fairly quiet so far, Jason decided to humor the old man and head over. When he could see the cape-clad back of Batman, he easily leapt over the last roof and sauntered over.

“Okay, B,” he had his thumbs tucked in his pockets as he drawled. “What’s the issue?”

Batman was grinning. As in, actually showing amusement. And he just pointed down, straight at Hood’s bike.

Jason rolled his eyes under his helmet, turning to look. At first he didn’t see anything amiss, until he saw movement and looked harder. Oh. Oh, holy shit.

“Is that a kid?”

“Yep,” Batman’s grin grew.

“Is she… stealing my tires?” Hood was so, so glad he wore a helmet that hid his expression. Because… wow.

“Yep,” Batman finally lost his composure, chuckling. “This seems like Karma, don’t you think?”

“And you just watched her so you could rub it in,” Jason groaned, throwing his head back in exasperation. Of course he would. Nobody knew it (except the other heroes who knew him) but Batman was a petty little jerk when he wanted to be. He bought the whole Daily Planet just to spite Clark, for crying out loud.

“Don’t adopt her,” Batman said as he stood up, patting Red Hood’s shoulder. “It looks like she’s almost done.”

“Shit,” Jason hissed, looking down to see that she was, actually, very close to being done. She had already had one tire completely free by the time he had arrived, and now she was only seconds away from getting the other one completely free.

He took a quick assessment— she was tiny, and really thin. Definitely a street kid, he thought, though he didn’t recognize her. He knew most of the street kids that stole to get by, nowadays, which meant she must have been fairly new. But even though she seemed to know what she was doing, her small frame made her take longer unscrewing the tires than it normally would have taken. Sure that she wasn’t a threat by any stretch of the imagination, he jumped down. His plan had been to startle her a little by showing up out of nowhere, but he didn’t want to scare her too badly. Just make her jump a little.

But he had underestimated her, it seemed. Without wasting a second, she jumped up and swung her tire iron at his knee. He cursed, she was a lot faster than her had been expecting. He was able to move so that the weapon only clipped the side of his knee, his knee pad thankfully taking the worst of it. She still hit hard enough to make him stumble and hiss in pain though, which was an accomplishment.

That’s when she abandoned her weapon and her tires, darting to try and escape only for Batman to drop down and block her escape. Though really, it was the grin Batman had that scared the girl most of all, apparently, making her slowly back away from him.

“Please stop smiling,” she begged with a faint French accent to her words. “It is not natural.”

That made Red Hood laugh, already recovered and right behind her. He plopped a gloved hand on her head.

“I know, it’s creepy right?” He joked. “What’cha doin’ stealing my tires, kid? I kinda need them to drive anywhere,” he was careful to keep his voice light and devoid of any anger. He wasn’t really upset, all told. It would be hypocritical of him if he was.

She looked between the two vigilantes for a moment, clear intelligence behind those bright blue eyes as she seemed to consider something. Suddenly she pulled away from Red Hood and stepped away from his reach, straightening up and trying to look tall.

“My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she said as firmly as she could. “My father was Tom Dupain, he was killed in a mugging three months ago. We were living in a house that our family friend leant to us after my mother’s death six months ago, and we moved here from Paris. I haven’t been able to contact him, and the police… I don’t trust them,” she admitted, clearly seeing this as the chance she had been waiting for. “I have been living on the streets since my father died. I am sorry for trying to steal your tires, Monsieur Red Hood. But it was a risk I had to take.”

“Did you expect us to catch you?” He asked, crossing his arms as he re-evaluated the girl. She was a lot stronger than he had assumed earlier, both physically and mentally. She seesawed her hand to indicate ‘kinda’.

“Even if you didn’t, I could make good money off your tires,” she justified with a shrug. “To me, I would win either way.”

“Who is your family friend? Can he help you now, take you in?” Batman asked, moving forward and kneeling down to be closer to Marinette’s height. Neither he nor Jason had missed the part where she was an orphan, but they had expected that considering what they had caught her doing. And they both knew that she wasn’t likely to take any apologies they tried to offer very well. It was best not to show pity, or she might get angry.

Marinette frowned. “... Our family friend is Jagged Stone. He lets me call him Uncle Jagged,” she told them, clearly expecting the disbelieving grunts they gave. “I mean it! You can call him, he might even be looking for me! I—“

“We know,” Hood assured her, now kneeling down as well. Man, she was short. “Calm down, we know you’re telling the truth. Jagged has made several public announcements about his missing honorary niece, we just didn’t recognize your name right away. And Jagged doesn’t have access to very many pictures of you, those he does have the Mayor isn’t allowing him to show because that spineless jackass—“

“Language, Hood.”

“—Cares more about keeping bad press off the air than finding a kid, even if it’s a world famous rockstar who’s asking. That’s probably why you haven’t heard anything, the mayor’s keeping it off the radio and not many reporters are brave enough to take the story and get on his bad side.”

“Oh…” Marinette took a deep breath, fighting the tears that were threatening to rise up. “He has been looking…” she sniffled, curling in on herself a little. “Can you take me to him?”

“I think we can do that,” Batman agreed, standing up. “I’ll contact him. Red Hood, can you handle everything here until I give you a place to meet up with Jagged Stone?”

Jason nodded. “No problem, B. Come on, little rabid pixie. Step one of gettin’ you back to your uncle is to help me fix my bike back up.”

Marinette sighed, shoulders dropping. “All my hard work, undone…” she playfully complained. But in the end she didn’t argue or fight against it, she just sat down and helped him reattach his tires.

All the while, Jason’s family kept teasing him over the comms. Clearly they were also thoroughly amused by the cosmic display of karma.

“...Monsieur Hood,” Marinette asked once they were done repairing the motorcycle and he had given her his too-big extra helmet. He tilted his head a bit to show he was listening. She squirmed. “Can… can we stop by my hideout? I have something really important I have to get.”

Jason smiles gently under his mask. She might not have been a street kid for very long, but she really did bring back some memories for him. He got on his bike and held a hand out to her.

“Sure thing kid. Wanna grab something to eat after? Can’t have a reunion on an empty stomach.”

She gave him a lopsided smile— not quite overjoyed, but definitely hopeful and thankful. Maybe this was the end of her streak of bad luck, she could only hope.

“Only if you don’t mind, Monsieur Hood,” she agreed before taking his hand and letting him help her onto the bike.

“No skin off my back, pixie,” he assured her. Then they were off. He followed her directions until they got to an abandoned building about three miles away, not in a good part of town at all but at least not in crime alley. Marinette easily led him through the building, skirting around other piles of ratty blankets and up broken stairs until they got to the badly-maintained top floor. She led him over to an almost invisible door in the concrete wall that pulled out to reveal what was probably a broom closet once upon a time. It was crowded with what looked like junk and empty boxes, along with a few blankets and two or three changes of clothes that were clearly her’s. A few belongings scattered around— a book, a small pink purse, and… Marinette came out of the pile of mess holding what had clearly been a very carefully hidden box. She also grabbed the purse and slung it over her shoulder, but didn’t seem worried about anything else.

Jason frowned at the box. It wasn’t that big, but it was clearly made of old wood. There were intricate carvings that were painted pink, in a symbol that was itching at the back of his mind. He recognized that symbol, but from where?

“Ready to go, kid?” He asked as he thought about it, getting a nod from Marinette. Twenty minutes later they were at a Batburger, sitting in a shaded booth that couldn’t be seen from the street.

She never let the box out of her sight. She kept it on the seat next to her, and Jason noticed that she tried to keep one hand on it at all times. But when she spoke, now her French accent stood out to him even more than before. But why—?

And then it clicked. Paris. Hawkmoth. Ladybug, Chat Noir, magic artifacts called Miraculous. Wonder Woman had raised a fuss when the heroes disappeared, declaring that something was wrong but she couldn’t put her finger on what. Then the magic users they trusted were called in, and returned from Paris with the grim news that the former Guardian of those artifacts had activated a failsafe and passed the guardianship on to someone else while erasing his own memories at the same time. But nobody knew who he could have passed it on to, so Batman had been given the green light to do all the research he and his team could into the Miraculous box to try and help track it down.

And here it was. The carvings were in pink now, which might have been the “cosmetic change” that Constantine had mentioned might happen when the box changed guardians. He had found the box full of super powerful magical artifacts… in the hands of a newly orphaned street kid who couldn’t have been older than fourteen at best.

What the hell?

“...” Red hood reached into his pocket and pulled out an old receipt and a sharpie. He scrawled on the back of the receipt and handed to Marinette. The girl was halfway into a bite of her burger when he did, and blinked at him owlishly before swallowing and cautiously reaching out to grab it. She frowned at the numbers scrawled there.

“What’s this?” She asked.

“My contact info,” he explained. “I won’t ask questions about why you have that box,” he watched her instantly stiffen but continued as casually as he could; “but it doesn’t matter. You can call me if you ever need help with anything, kid. Help with that box, help if you get in trouble in Gotham again, or even if you’re having a bad day. You can call me for whatever, got it? I don’t care if you think it’s stupid, if you can’t talk to anyone else in your life you can always call or text me and I’ll do whatever I can. Got it?”

“...” Marinette sniffled for a second and looked down at the table in silence for a second. “... what if I want your motorcycle?” she joked, but the watery tone of her voice gave her away.

Jason laughed, patting her head. “I need my bike, but we can talk about getting you your own once you are old enough to get a license. You almost done? Bats says that Jagged is ready to meet you, I can take you to him right now.”

“Yeah, lets go!” she was newly energized and shoved the last bite of burger into her mouth greedily. “And Red Hood?” She asked as they headed out to where he had parked.

“Yeah, kid?”

“Thanks.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Permanent tag list (I remembered it this time!)

@rosalineandrosemary @neakco @justanotherfanficlovinbitch @trippingovermyfeet @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @bigpicklebananatree @fantasylover-92 @prongs-flowers @jumpingjoy82 @prettylittlebutterflie @queenz-z @literaryhiraeth @waffelyunsure @deathssilentapproach-blog @waiting247 @theirlmikan @unoriginalmess

#maribat #ml x dc #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #dc x miraculous #soulmate-game #platonic jasonette

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fallingappleshurt · 4 years

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Project Pink

Sorry Y’all this one got away from me again and I wrote it while tired, again. Anyways here is some badly written shit and have a good period of existence in the universe!

Oh god my brain is going brrrrrrrr

Techno and Wilbur.

It had always been Techno and Wilbur Soode against the world.

Some would make jokes about how it was because they were identical twins, they got ridiculous questions like ‘If I pinch him will you feel it?’ or ‘Can you guys mentally speak- like through your minds?’ They would roll their eyes and say no, sometimes they’d joke around acting like they could read each other's mind or something stupid but it was rare.

They went through multiple foster homes, refusing to be separated from each other, if they ever were they’d find a way back to the other, because it was them against the world.

Then they got placed with Phil Wingraft.

He was different.

They had been through a few foster homes, some were good, some were okay, and one was really bad but Phil was different.

He treated them like they were normal, he was gentle but not patronizing or condescending, he would joke around with them but also became a person they could trust.

He took the time to learn about their interests, he got Wilbur a guitar and took Techno to the library every week. He took the time to recognize the difference between Wilbur’s crazy fluffy hair and Techno more tame but still wavy curls. Wilbur was taller then Techno by half a head but from a distance it was hard to tell. They both had the same shaped face and the same cinnamon colored eyes, the main difference was Techno had glasses.

They stayed with Phil for a year before they were officially adopted and became a family. A two years later he asked them how they would feel if he started fostering another kid, named Tommy.

“I’d be okay with that,” Techno said, shrugging, he hadn’t really processed it but he’d go along with it. Wilbur agreed too, nodding along, it seemed like it would make Phil happy so why not?

“That’s great, it’ll take a few days for the paperwork to go through, then he’ll be with us!” Phil was grinning, this was making Phil happy so this could make Wilbur happy.

Later they were in their room when Techno kicked the top bunk Wilbur was laying on.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, rolling his head halfway off the bed, trying to look at his brother.

“What?” Wilbur asked, looking over the railing.

“Don’t be like that, I know that look, you look like you just ate a suspicious lemonhead,”

“I don’t have a look like that!”

“Stop avoiding the question!” His face softened, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m just worried about the new kid, Tommy, I-I don’t know, it just makes me worried, what if it changes things?”

Techno was quiet, he bit his lip.

“I get that, it makes sense but I don’t think anything bad will happen. Phil is great and I don’t think he would push us away, he’s not like that. Who knows, maybe we can have a little brother,”

Wilbur huffed out a small laugh, smiling softly, “Yeah, a little brother, that would be nice.”

Techno sighed contently, shifting back onto his bed. They laid in silence for a moment when Wilbur laughed.

“I mean, it’ll be nice for you, I already have one.”

“Two minutes Wilbur! Two minutes!”

Tommy joined them 4 days later, a little blonde dweeb with baby blue eyes. He was loud, annoying, and hyper. He would talk loudly when Techno was trying to do homework, he untuned Wilbur’s guitar, he said it was an accident but they weren’t really sure, and was overall like a bull in a china shop.

Techno was gonna pull his own hair out, Wilbur had come very close to locking him out of the apartment, they were both going to kill him.

It took them two weeks to fall in change completely.

It started when Tommy asked Techno for some help in his homework, it actually shocked Techno, the kid who was so loud and proud of his accomplishments shyly asking if Techno could help him with his math work was interesting, to say the least.

Techno almost said no, almost teased him, ‘What? The Great TommyInnit needs help? I thought you knew everything!’

Almost.

Tommy looked different, fingers nervously tapping on the packet, trying not to crickle it, eyes darting around, even his voice was shaky.

It reminded Techno when he’d ask an old foster parent for help, only they’d turn him away, telling him to figure it out, that they were too busy.

He didn’t want to be like that.

“Sure, what are you learning?” He pushed some of his papers aside, making room for Tommy’s. Tommy grabbed a chair and sat next to him.

“Algebra,” He said, frowning, “I don’t get it- it’s just so weird,” He put his chin in his hands.

“Don’t worry, Algebra is super confusing-”

“Yeah right, you get everything, you’re really smart!”

“You’re smart too,” Techno offered, not sure what to say.

“Then name a time I’ve been smart!”

Techno short circuited.

“See!” Tommy gestured wildly.

“Tommy I’ve known you for two weeks, I’m sure you’ve done plenty of-”

Tommy groaned, “Nevermind, forget it-” He slid off the chair only for Techno to reach over and grab his arm.

“No, I’m sorry, just let me help,”

Tommy made a face but sat back down, “Fine.”

It had been 2 hours.

“This is useless! I’ll never get it!” Tommy stuck his hands in his hair.

“Just try this last problem, you’re so close!”

“No! I’ll just mess it up again!”

“You don’t know that, just try again!”

Reluctantly, Tommy picked his pencil back up and started on the equation. Techno turned back to his paper, finishing up a definition sheet, Tommy’s mumbles drifting in the background.

“Then add the two to get 16?” He looked up at Techno, who closed his textbook and looked over Tommy’s worksheet, covered in half erased scribbles, doodles, and pencil shavings.

“That’s right,” He grinned, reading over Tommy’s work again, “You did it,”

“Wait seriously? I got it right?”

“Yeah!”

“Yes! I did it!” Tommy pumped a fist in the air, cheering. “Thanks Techno!”

“Anytime nerd,”

Wilbur had been messing around with his guitar, sitting on his bunk, scribbling down music notes on a scrap of paper. He’d write a few phrases down and sing them softly to himself, strumming a few chords.

Scowling, he erased half the page, grumbling to himself; “It doesn’t sound right, why can’t I get it-”

“I thought it sounded nice,” Someone said from the bunk beneath him. Wilbur jumped, yelping, he hit his head on the ceiling. He leaned over the railing to see Tommy sitting on Techno’s bunk, limbs tangled around the latter.

“What are you doing? I thought you were out with Techno and Phil!” Wilbur said, sounding harsher and more shrill then he meant to, Tommy shrugged, “I didn’t want to go to the library today.”

“Wish I knew that beforehand,” He grumbled, going back to his music sheet.

“You seem mad,” Tommy observed, twisting his arm around the metal.

“Yeah I’m mad,”

“Why?”

“‘Cause I can’t get these stupid lyrics to sound right and you just scared the shit- I mean crap- out of me.”

Tommy cackled, “I’m telling Phil you swore!”

“Shut up,” Wilbur grumbled, gripping his pencil tighter. Tommy tipped his head to the side, “I don’t get why you’re angry, those lyrics sounded really nice.”

Wilbur paused, “You think so?”

“Yeah! It was really cool!” Tommy said, starting to come up the latter, he climbed onto the bed with Wilbur, “I liked it a lot!”

Wilbur smiled softly, “Thanks,”

“Can you play it again?”

“Oh, uh, sure,” Wilbur sat up straighter, putting the guitar in a better position , “I don’t remember all the lyrics though,”

He started playing, slowly his nerves of playing in front of someone else started to slip away as he fell into the rhythm and flow of the music. He looked up briefly a few times seeing Tommy, smiling widely, eyes filled with admiration. He finished the song and looked at Tommy, who immediately leaned forwards.

“That was so good! Write it down so you don’t forget! Wilbur that was epic!”

“Really?”

“Definitely!” Tommy leaned back, then quietly added, “And I’m sorry I messed up your guitar the other week, it wasn’t on purpose,” He trailed off.

Wilbur shrugged, “It’s fine, you didn’t do any real damage, just messed up the tuning,”

“I was messing with it cause I wanna learn how to play, could you maybe show me sometime?”

“Maybe, I’m still considered an amateur on most standards,”

“Seriously?!”

Tommy went to the same school as them, he was in the sixth grade while Techno and Wilbur were in 8th, so they saw each other in the halls every once and awhile. The one thing Tommy hadn’t been able to learn, despite the fact he had learned algebra, basketball, and some of the guitar, was how to tell Techno and Wilbur apart when they weren’t standing directly next to each other.

They had tried everything, Tommy would try to memorize the different clothes they wore each morning, the small differences in their hair, how they walked or moved around but nothing worked.

One day when they were in the car on the way home from school, Tommy was pouting, or ‘stewing’, as Phil would say. He barely talked the whole ride home.

“Alright I’ll bite,” Wilbur said, turning around in the front seat, “What’s wrong?”

Tommy frowned at him, “You both completely ignored me all day! I tried to get your attention so many times!”

Techno raised an eyebrow, “I never once heard you call my name,”

“Me either,” Wilbur confirmed, Tommy looked skeptical.

“How do I know that you guys aren’t messing with me?”

“He’s got you guys there,” Phil said from the driver's seat.

“We weren’t ignoring him! I swear, you must have gotten us mixed up again!” Wilbur insisted, waving his hand.

Tommy groaned, “Why is it so hard to tell you guys apart! Hey, could you just make it easier and not be identical twins?”

Phil cackled in the front, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

“It-It doesn’t work like that Tommy,” Techno snorted, half covering his mouth with his hand.

“Oh come on! Just try it!”

Tommy was trying, he really was, but it was so hard to tell them apart. He knew Wilbur’s hair was crazier and he was Taller then Techno and that Techno had glasses but it didn’t help at all.

He’d go to ask Techno for help with homework only to find Wilbur, who also didn’t know jackshit about algerbra, or if he wanted to do something stupid he’d end up accidentally telling his plan to Techno who would immediately veto the idea.

After awhile he just decided to just try and slow down and see if one of the clones had glasses or not and that worked for him, sort of.

A few months later and they officially adopted Tommy into the family, he was an official Wingraft.

They went out and celebrated, laughing and making stupid jokes, it was nice. Then the next day Techno went to the store by himself, taking some of the money he had saved up from chores and searched a bottle of pink hair dye.

Picking out a color was surprisingly difficult, there were so many choices, taffy, bubblegum, creamy, carnation, but he eventually decided on ‘Rose Pink’. He bought a bottle then hid it under his bed, he needed to wait for the right time to do it because the dye had to sit for at least 30 minutes before he could rinse it out.

Phil was working late on Wednesday and Wilbur was going to see a movie with friends after school so he just had to lock Tommy out of the bathroom for like 45 minutes, which he would have no problem doing, and everything would be set.

The day rolled around and he found out that dying your hair is easier said then done, so much easier.

Techno set down so many paper towels in hopes to catch anything that might drip, then there was the process of making sure he got it all and wearing the plastic gloves made everything much harder to handle but eventually he was able to get the dye in place.

He set a timer on his phone then pulled out a book, hoping Tommy wouldn’t try to bust down the door, it didn’t lock but Techno had taken a rubber band from the door handle and wrapped it around the facut to try and give some semblance of a lock. All he had to do was wait.

Tommy was sitting on the couch watching TV when Phil arrived home, Wilbur in tow.

“Hey Tommy, how was your day?”

“Pretty good, nothing really interesting happened though,” He responded, “But Techno has been in the bathroom for like an hour,”

Wilbur raised an eyebrow and Phil asked, “Is he okay?”

“I guess so, I heard the shower running just a minute ago,”

Phil walked over to the bathroom door and knocked, “Tech? You okay in there?”

Tommy heard the door swing open and Techno say, “Yeah I’m fine,” Phil didn’t say anything but Wilbur started laughing loudly, throwing his head back. Tommy turned around on the couch and saw Techno standing there, towel around his shoulders to stop water from dripping onto his shirt, hair the brightest shade of pink Tommy had ever seen.

He froze, much like Phil did, before he broke out into a grin, then a laugh, “Techno what-”

“Now you should be able to tell us apart,”

#minecraft #mcyt #minecraft youtubers #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #philza #sleepyboysinc #sleepy boys inc #technoblr #technoblade #fanfiction #fluff #family dynamics #foster care #sleppyblr #Apples Writing #Finding a Home AU

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fangirlings-things · 4 years

Text

Forbidden to Kill

• Fandom: Percy Jackson

• Pairing: Luke Castellan x reader

• Word count: 1.9K

• Summary: when you and your adoptive brother Percy arrived at Camp Half Blood, you did not expect yourself to fall for the friendly son of Hermes

gif is not mine

→ this was requested by @actyourownfandom-23 I loved this idea, and it turned to be quite longer than I expected it to. I really liked this piece so let me know what your thoughts are. Hope you like it, love, I did my best 💕

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“Are you ready for the game tonight?” Percy’s tone was incisive, thoughtful. You could see in his face that he, didn’t seem ready at all.

You understood his nervousness. This would be both of your first times in a game of capture the flag. First time carrying around swords, shields and fighting other students instead of answering a task in class. It had been almost a week ever since you and Percy had arrived at Camp Half Blood. Since Grover had revealed himself to be a satyr and his mother and your adoptive mother, Sally, had died.

You still perfectly picture the look in Quiron's face when he explained to the both of you (already having revealed himself as a centaur) that Sally had for accident or not, decided to adopt a demigod, that being you. It was obvious that he did not believe at all that it had been a coincidence. What were the changes? In his mind, whomever was Percy’s father had known about you and after unknown events, had asked Sally to take care of you. Perhaps he could even be your father, but from another relationship. You wished it wasn’t true, that he hadn’t ask Sally Jackson to raise the child of another woman with the man she loved. You really hoped he didn’t. Or, you could have a mother. You never knew any family expect Sally and Percy. So, yeah, it could be pretty much anyone.

After all those days, exactly nothing had changed since your arrival. You both still felt like outsiders, sleeping in Hermes's Cabin and trying to get used to the Camp’s activities while not being claimed for any of the Gods. Luckily for the both of you, you guys had Grover and Luke to look after you.

Luke. The thought of him made you sight as you suddenly remembered to nod your head in answer to Percy’s question. The son of Hermes had been nothing but attentive and a friend ever since Quiron had asked him to help you both get settled. He had given you both a place to sleep, invited you to sit by his side at dinner and even helped you both to train a bit, to get ready for the game. He was a nice person and you did not fail to notice, that he was also beautiful.

“Good for you” Percy said, elbows on his knees as you both sat together in the grass close to the strawberry fields. “I feel like my head in going to blow up every time I think about someone attacking me with a sword”

“Think about the bright side of this, Percy” you turned your head to him and raised your eyebrows as you smiled. “There is no permission to kill”

“Oh, thanks, (Y/N), that’s incredibly comforting” Percy rolled his eyes at you as you laughed hard because of the annoyed expression on his face.

“It should be” the sound of that voice made both you and Percy turn to look at behind you both, from where Luke came. You thought that he looked beautiful as usual, with his bright hair and that curious scar running along his features. It wasn’t ugly at all, it made him Luke even more interesting. “It makes a great difference, to know that the sons of Ares are forbidden to kill you”

“See? I told you” you said to Percy and for a brief moment, he seemed calmer. Then you turned to Luke, eyes meeting in a way that almost took your breath away. His eyes were intense, filled with life. There was something in them… so attractive. “We will fight with you, right?”

“Of course, darling” Luke smiled, in that mischievous way you had noticed that all the sons of Hermes’s had. “Thought I would not protect you?”

“And who’s going to protect me?” Percy asked, frowning as he watched the exchange of glances between you both. He knew you better than anyone in the world. He was your brother. Maybe not in blood, but in absolutely everything else. You knew there would be just a short amount of time before he realized how you felt about Luke.

━━━━━━━━ ⸙ ━━━━━━━━

Whomever was your divine mother or father, you cursed them in that moment. They had abandoned you and apparently, left you with a scent that would attract monsters towards you every time they were near. Amazing. And as if that wasn’t enough, because of that scent you had to drop high school and live in that violent Camp of demigods and learn how to fight for your life. Super cool, right? Wrong.

Within fifteen minutes into the game of capture the flag you had lost sight of Percy and Luke, after a vicious attack of some of the son’s of Ares. Two of them had attacked you at the same time, even though Luke screamed for them to give you a break because you were knew.

You had even managed to take a few right swings with your sword like Luke had thought you, but they were too good. One of them cut your leg deeply and you only managed to run away unstably because Percy suddenly burst on top of them, probably encouraged by your wound.

You had ran and ran, and ran. Only stopped when you could no longer hear the sounds of battle anywhere near you. With pain irradiating from your leg in sharp stings, you sat yourself down with your back against a big tree. Looking down, vision clouded because of the pain and the darkness of the night, you managed to see that your jeans had been torn apart and your leg was exposed. Blood ran down it, in an amount that you thought that for certain meant something really not good.

You tried to get up, but quickly realized you couldn’t because as soon as you put pressure on that leg, you lost balance and fell right back with your back hitting the tree and making you gasp in pain. You could feel yourself getting weaker and weaker, as blood continued to leave the wound. Taking a deep breath, you tore a piece of your shirt apart and wrapped it around the wound, trying to stop the blood flow. It held, surprisingly.

You just stayed there, trying to normalize your breathing and remain calm even though you failed at it.

“(Y/N)!” you heard your name being called out of the sudden, echoing through the woods of the Camp. “(Y/N)!”

“I-I’m here!” you said as loud as you could, eyes closed and head laid back into the tree for saving energy. Honestly, you didn’t even if they, whomever that was, had heard you until footsteps approached you in a rush.

“Hi, darling” you recognized his voice in the same instant and opened your eyes. Luke. He smiled at you, probably trying to give you some comfort as he lowered himself inti the grass to be right in front of you. He inspected your face, hand going up to caress your cheek before his eyes went down towards your leg and he saw the poor bandage you had made. It made him smile even brighter. “Good call, love” the pet names would have made you blush you weren’t so weak.

“Percy” you mumbled, worried about him as Luke raised you in his arms, one hand below your legs and the other supporting your back, like you weighted nothing at all.

“He is fine, don’t worry. I left him with two of my sisters. They’re good fighters, so he’ll be safe. Now, let’s get you to the infirmary. You have to be taken care of”

With the slow swing of your body being carried by his as he walked, you felt good. In Luke’s arms, all thoughts escaped your mind and you blacked out.

━━━━━━━━ ⸙ ━━━━━━━━

“How are you feeling?” Percy squeezed your hand in his. You had just awakened and found him sitting by your bed, smiling tenderly. He looked fine, certainly not hurt like you and it relieved you Although, there was something else behind his smile. Something you failed to identify as displeasure or satisfaction. From the corner of your eye, you could the sunlight coming into the infirmary and indicating that it was already morning.

“I could be better” you shrugged a bit and pulled yourself up just enough to sit on the bed. You frowned at him. “What is it you’re not telling me?”

“I got claimed last night, close to the end of the game” he said, and the tone on his voice still not helped you understand how he felt about that. “My father is Poseidon”

“Percy, that’s incredible!” you said, trying to encourage him to be happy. You knew what was going on his mind. Why did you abandon me and mom? Why did you not stay or showed up to tell me this yourself? “I am happy for you. I really am”

“I have to go, Quiron made promise I would let him know when you woke up. I’ll come back later, ok?” you nodded and then he leaned down to kiss your forehead. “Love you, sister” he winked playfully and then walked out of the infirmary.

“You’re right, you know. You could definitely be better” Luke approached your bed, coming from one of the corners of the room. He probably had been expecting Percy to leave to speak alone with you. Why, you had no idea, but you liked it. He sat at your bed like Percy had before, close enough for you to be able to that he had a purple mark on his cheek that you were pretty sure wasn’t there before you blacked out.

“What happened to your face?” you raised your hand and touched it with your fingertips gently. He got your hand in his, taking it away from the mark.

“Let’s just say those sons of Ares got what they deserved” he said, expression incredibly calm, like he hadn’t just admitted to get into a fight because of you.

“Luke, you shouldn’t have!” you told him, even though you could feel your body a little bit warmer by the thought of him defending you like that.

“Of course I did, those idiots shouldn’t have attacked you. They have been training for three years already and you have for just a week. Was unfair, even Quiron said so” he squeezed your hand in his and sighted heavily, eyes going to the floor for a moment. “They only did it because of what you mean to me”

“W-what?” you couldn’t help but stutter. What had he meant with that?

“Did Percy tell you he got claimed?” Luke asked, completely changing the subject. You thought about insisting, but after having being saved by him, you came to the conclusion that give him some space was more than fair.

“I’m happy for him” you said, honestly. “But now… I feel like I’m the only outsider here”

“Your mother or father will claim you soon” he squeezed your hand again, making you look him in the eye. “Trust me, don’t worry about it” you nodded, smiling. You knew he was just trying to comfort but still, it felt good. “And also, as long as you don’t get claimed, you’ll be able to sleep close to me in my father’s cabin. Isn’t that great?”

You laughed at that, and he also did. Looking into Luke’s eyes in that moment, you realized that after last night, your feelings had just gotten greater and stronger. You liked Luke, really did.

And for whatever reason, the sons of Ares thought that Luke liked you too.

#imagine #x reader #fanfic #imagines #percy jackson imagine #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #luke x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fanfic

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catxsnow · 4 years

Text

KIDNAPPED

Request: Can I please request something with "have I been kidnapped?" + "Um.. that's unclear". Go crazy with it.

Warning: car crash, uh, swearing, cringe (I was 3/4 done this and realized I hated it so, uh, Sorry Amanda)

A/N: Reporting to you live and Tipsy friends what’s good

Word count: 2.6k

San Francisco usually wasn't a crazy city. Sure the traffic sucked, but at least the views were nice. The local shops always had something interesting and you were guaranteed to find a coffee shop on every block. Over all, you were glad you moved there, it was a nice change in your life - one that you needed.

However, when this group of so called 'Titans' showed up, things got pretty out of control. Buildings got destroyed, people were put in harms way with the sudden increase in villains showed up to take these guys out. You hadn't had the luxury of running into any of them, hopefully you wouldn't have to.

You moved there to get away from your hectic life, you didn't want to be thrown right back into something even worse. The news was filled with these guys - a girl getting chased on rooftop by her deranged father, Robin falling to his death only to be saved by someone who resembled Superman, even a green tiger.

It was interesting seeing them all on the news, but other than that, you never wanted to be involved in any accident that they caused. It seemed they were used to hurting people more than saving them - even if it was accidental.

San Francisco seemed to be safer than the last city you were in. For once, you could walk home with your headphones in and not worry about your surroundings. Just like any night, you walked from work back to your apartment in the late hours of the night, wanting nothing more than to just crash in your bed.

The night was cold and no matter how tightly your wrapped your coat around yourself it didn't bring any more warmth. The sound of traffic was tuned out by your headphones. Street lights illuminated your path and you were so close to your home that you could almost smell the inside of it. Not actually, but you really missed your room after that long day.

The sound of a crash overpowered your music. You turned back to see what had happened by the second you had done so all you could see was the tail end of a car coming directly towards you. There was no time to move out of the way or even to think. Even if there was, you were frozen in your spot with fear.

A body crashed into you before the metal of a car. Your heart rate was going so incredibly fast that black spots filled your vision. You should have been dead, that car was coming right at you. You tried so hard to keep yourself awake, but the only thing that you saw was a red 'S' on a black t-shirt as you passed out completely.

You woke up to arguing and bright lights staring down at you. Your head was pounding and it took you a moment to remember what had happened. A car had nearly hit you and somehow you impossibly had been saved. Then, embarrassingly you completely passed out from shock. Wherever you were now, it certainly wasn't a hospital.

There were several people standing together, each of them trying to talk over one another. You sat up on the bed, rubbing your eyes in hopes that this headache would go away. "Uh," you spoke up, but none of them had heard you. They were too engrossed in arguing to notice that you had woken up.

"Hello?" You tried again. Still nothing. You tried to listen in to what they were talking about and quickly came to the conclusion that it was you. Whoever saved you obviously wasn't supposed to bring you there, that was what the yelling was about. There was also the point that you couldn't just be left in the street unconscious - another good point.

This time, you coughed loud enough for one of them to look over at you. Your eyes narrowed in on his t-shirt, it was the same one that had saved you. And it wasn't just any 'S', it was Superman's logo. Whoever this guy was, he was obviously fast enough to be related to the man of steel himself.

As you looked at the others in the group, you picked up on who they were as well. Fiery red hair, bright green hair, these were the people that were on the news. You were in the Titans home base with the heroes themselves. "Holy shit," you mumbled out, eyes wide. There were a few there that you didn't recognize and you were sure it was only because they were in civvies.

"You're the Titans," your jaw fell slack. As much as you bashed them to your friends, saying how much danger they brought to this city, meeting them had been completely different. This was a group of people that kicked ass and had quite literally saved your life. You never thought you'd meet them, especially under these circumstances.

The oldest one - or at least you assumed him to be - looked at the one with the green hair. "Don't let them leave," he ordered. The others followed him out into the hall. They had no idea what to do with you, that was obvious. Conner shouldn't have brought you there. They understood he was still new at this, but he should have known better.

You still felt in shock. Shock from nearly dying. Shock from being saved. Shock from waking up in the Titan's home base. You never expected your day to go like this, and you never wished it to. These masked heroes brought nothing but trouble to San Francisco... and yet if it wasn't for them you wouldn't be standing there.

The green haired one awkwardly rocked back and forth on his heels. This must have been the one that could turn into the tiger - at least it made the most sense in your mind. He avoided looking at you. The squeak of his sneakers against the floor and the hum of the medical equipment at your side was the only sound in the room. It drove you nuts.

"Can you turn into any animal or just a tiger?" You suddenly blurted out, unable to take this awkward silence any more. His eyes widened at your question. How did you even know that he could do that? How had you pieced together that they were the Titans so quickly anyways? None of them were in their suits.

"Uh..." Gar trailed off. "Tiger is just the easiest," he answered. "How did you know that I could do that?" You raised your eyebrows at him - was he serious? Without words you point to your own hair. He seemed to understand what you meant. Green tiger, green hair, it was pretty easy to put together. You could see his cheeks tint red.

"My name's Garfield. Gar," He tried to cover up his embarrassment. Gar cringed at the sound of his voice cracking.

"Should you be telling me that?" You asked. Wasn't the whole point of being a hero having a secret identity? This was the first time that you had met one, and it certainly felt like he didn't really know what he was doing. Nonetheless, you were just happy that they didn't kill you for knowing their identity - or their secret location.

"You already know what I look like what's the harm in knowing my name?" Gar shrugged. He wanted nothing more than to get the attention off of him - so he decided to throw the new guy under the bus. "Besides I think Conner kinda already has a crush on you, so."

"Super-rip-off?" You asked. To be fair, you didn't know his name, or if he even was related to the great Superman. All you knew, was that he had saved your life and you were grateful for it. And from what small glimpse you got of him, he was pretty cute too.

"He probably heard that," Gar told you. Heat rose to your cheeks with embarrassment. "But yes. Superboy. He's the one that saved you and brought you here. Really, he probably should have taken you to a hospital but he's kinda new at this whole thing so, yeah. I guess now they're trying to figure out what to do with you."

"So, have I been kidnapped?" You asked again. The leader had said that you weren't allowed to leave and that Gar was supposed to stop you if you tried to. Would you ever be allowed to leave again if you knew their secrets? Would they really trust a stranger that they just met? They didn't even know your name!

"Um, that's unclear," Gar answered. To be honest, he really didn't know what Dick planned to do with you. After growing up alongside Batman, it was drilled into him to be super cautious. He knew how to keep his identity safe and not let anyone know who he really was. Conner had ruined that pretty quick.

"My name's (Y//N), by the way," You told him, sticking your hand out for him to shake. Gar grinned and accepted it. For everything that just happened to you, you were taking it all pretty well. He expected you to freak out, or even something worse like faint again. "I guess if I am being kidnapped you should at least know who I is."

Gar pulled one of the chairs beside the bed to sit across from you. He started asking you questions about your life - what you did, what you liked to do in you spare time, things like that. It was nice talking with him. For a kid, he seemed like a very genuine guy. You wanted to ask about him, but considering his lifestyle, it didn't seem like a good idea.

It felt like hours that you were stuck in there, chatting away as the people outside that room tried to figure out just what to do with you. Finally, the man that saved you - Conner - and the one who ordered Gar to stay with you, came back in. The two other women that were with them earlier hadn't come back.

You smiled at them both, hoping that your kindness would lessen whatever sort of punishment they had coming for you. Conner looked flustered at your smile, proving Gar's theory even more.

"Superboy shouldn't have brought you here," The oldest one spoke. He looked familiar, and it took you a few moments to realize why. He was that kid in the circus - the one that's parents died in the middle of an act. The Flying Graysons - this must have been Dick. "We talked abo-"

"You're Dick Grayson!" You grinned. Excitement grew within you for meeting someone you idolized as a child. "I went to like four of your shows when I was a kid! Oh my god you and your family were like my heroes! We stopped at Haly's Circus for three weeks straight. You were the reason I joined gymnastics, I wanted to be like you!"

Dick looked taken aback by your sudden outburst, as did Gar and Conner. His shock turned to a smile, it was nice to see someone who remembered his time in the circus. It reminded him of his childhood, being back there - no responsibilities, no drama, just fun. What were the odds that Conner picked up one of his old fans?

Why was he here? What connection did he have to the Titans? The three men watched as the gears in your brain turned as you pieced everything together. Bruce Wayne took him in when he was a kid - right around the same time that Robin - another childhood hero of yours - showed up. Was he Robin?

No, the one on the news a couple months back was shorter, and had different hair. But the Robin that was in Gotham - the Robin that you looked up to - had the same acrobatic techniques as Dick had. "You're Robin," you looked over him, picturing him with a mask and green suit. "The old Robin. Which means... Bruce... Holy shit!"

"Wow you put that together a little too quickly," Gar looked impressed by your analytical skills. First guessing that he was the tiger, then Conner being related to Superman in someway, now Dick being Robin? You were good. "And you look angry," he looked over at his mentor. Dick's arms were crossed and his jaw tight. This little revelation just made things far more complicated.

"Oh I'm so fucked," You whispered to yourself. Knowing who Batman was? That was something that very few people knew about. You certainly weren't supposed to know and yet here you were. "I don't suppose you'll just believe me when I say I'm really good at keeping secrets and that I promise to never say anything?"

"I do, actually," Conner spoke for the first time since you had met him. The three of you looked at him in shock. This man didn't know you, he couldn't possible just believe your word like that. "I can hear your heartbeat, you weren't lying."

"So I can go?"

"No," Dick stopped you. "If I find out that you did tell anyone out secret, I will find you. Trust me, I'll be far more kinder to you than Batman." Conner could hear your heart rate once more. This time, it was erratic - you were scared. You gulped and nodded your head. The last thing you wanted to do was get on their bad side.

Dick gestured for you to follow him. You did, with Gar and Conner only a few steps behind the both of you. The apartment was massive, and beautiful. But if Bruce Wayne was funding it you expected nothing less. You didn't get to look at much before reaching an elevator. Dick pressed the button and the doors opened wide for you to walk in.

"You don't want my name? Address? Anything to track me down?" You asked.

"I've already got a file on you," Dick answered. You should have known that he would. If he was really Robin, he would have found out everything about you the second you were carried through those doors. "And if I really wanted to find you, it wouldn't be that hard. Just remember what I said."

"Right. Don't tell anyone or Batman will break my bones. Got it," you shuddered at the thought, walking into the elevator. "Nice meeting you all, I guess." You looked over at Conner, "Thanks for saving me, and uh, feel free to call me," you winked right before the doors closed. Gar was right, and he was cute.

Conner's face flushed red. They watched in the small screen as you went down. A smile grew on your face - it wasn't very often you were so forward like that. But hey, you weren't going to see him again so why not? Unless, he did actually call you - which was unlikely. Did heroes have romantic partners?

Conner looked over at his friends. Gar was giving him a thumbs up at the win and Dick was holding back a chuckle. None of them expected their evenings to go like that, but it sure was interesting to see it play out. You seemed like a nice person, and by the way that Conner could tell that you weren't lying, a trustworthy one as well.

"You have their number in that file, right?"

#titans imagine #titans one shot #titans #dc titans #dc imagine #dc one shot #dc #gar logan #garfield logan #Conner kent #beast boy #superboy #dickgrayson #nightwing #imagine

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khoicesbyk · 3 years

Text

Beloved.

A/N: I'm officially obsessed with Wolf Bride and what does one do when she's obsessed with a certain book? She writes an AU about it! 😁 So, Talley Ho! *in my Sherlock Holmes voice*

Rated: Mature. | Contains sexual content and strong language. (You know? The usual from me. 😁) | Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters. | Main Characters: Roman (LI) and Naia Evans (MC) | All Characters and names: (except MC and original characters created by me) are property of Pixelberry.

Current Word Count: 4,040 words. (more or less. I stop counting after editing and re-editing. 🤷🏾‍♀️)

Song And Story Inspiration: Bittersweet-After 7

Tag List: @shewillreadyou @rideordiechronicles @pixie88 @txemrn @lucy-268 @shannonsaid @shannonwrote @bebepac @imturaxamara @blackkingliamstan @queenjilian @secretaryunpaid @ridgy--didge @theworldofprompts @choicesficwriterscreations

This series is rated Mature. It is NOT reading material that is safe for those under 18. Reader discretion is STRONGLY advised!

This series may contain spoilers. If you wish not to see spoilers, please do not read any further.

Prompt Time! Today I’ll be using @theworldofprompts prompt “What do you want me to do, dress in drag and do the hula?” it'll be in bold in black. Also I know that I can’t be the only one who’s excited that they picked the greatest Disney movie one-liner as a prompt.

(Also this series is a slight deviation of the original story. In the original story, the werewolf hunter is a woman. But in this series the hunter is a man.)

Missing a chapter or want to read a chapter again? I got you covered! Click ——> Here!

If you’d like to be added to my tag list. Just reblog or dm me and I will gladly add you! 😁😘

A/N 2: I had a time writing this chapter. Writers block and all out forgetfulness is a bitch! But I did it! *pats self on the back*

TW: paranormal activity. Communication with the dead. Reader Discretion Is STRONGLY ADVISED.

Chapter 22.) Reflection.

It′s crazy how you flaunt your passion.

When you let meaning of them worth take over you.

You stare into my soul like that.

Makes me wonder when you ain't get by the side of me.

It′s pain and pleasure.

To love someone so.

So much you, you hate them.

Push me over the edge then.

To go catch you, your love is.

It's bittersweet.

(What you want from me, want, want)

I build you up, then knock you down.

It's bittersweet.

(What you want from me, want, want)

You stay quiet and I get loud.

It′s bittersweet.

It had been 3 days since Naia was rushed to the hospital because of Wolfbane being in her system. Her parents, especially her mother, were both distraught and furious that their daughter had gotten herself caught up in the tireless war between The Pack and The Knights Of Ossory. Those three days felt like years to them. Both took turns sitting vigil over their daughter.

The only saving grace was that her condition hadn't changed. It hadn't gotten better but Laurie and Shane were thankful it hadn't worsened. They just wanted her to open her eyes. Laurie needed her daughter to wake up. She had to hear her voice again. And every moment that she didn't the more she went crazy. Laurie would just sit at Naia’s bedside holding onto her hand and pray Naia would squeeze her hand. The agony of waiting was going to kill her.

“Anything?” her husband asked as he entered the room with coffee in hand.

Laurie just shook her head no.

“It'll happen, baby. It has to. She'll wake up and we'll be able to breathe again.”

She never said a word to him. She just held onto Naia’s hand as Shane set the cup of coffee he brought her down. Laurie's eyes were red and puffy and her face was a mess. She blamed The Pack and The Knights Of Ossory but mostly she blamed herself. She swore to protect her daughter from all of this. To prevent her from going through the hell she went through over 30 years ago. And feels like she failed. A pain no mother wants to go through.

Laurie rubbed Naia’s knuckle silently, willing their daughter to wake up.

“Have you eaten baby?”

Laurie shook her head no.

“You should go eat something baby.”

“I don't want food. I want our daughter. I want her to wake up now.”

Shane sat beside her and placed his hand over hers.

“I know, baby. I want that too. I need it. You need it. But it's not good for you not to eat something.”

“I can't leave her! What if she wakes up and I'm not here?! I have to be here!”

Her frantic tone worried Shane.

“Baby listen to me! You need to go eat something. I'll be right here. I will watch over her. If anything happens I swear to you that I will tell you immediately.”

“But Shane—”

“No buts! Go eat something. Now! I won't let anything happen to her. I swear that on my life.”

Laurie looked at him before getting up and going to the door. When she looked back towards Naia, Shane smiled softly at her.

“It's okay baby, I'll keep her safe.”

Laurie nodded sadly before walking out the door.

Shane turned his attention back to their daughter, his worry, resentment, rage, sorrow, protectiveness, and anxiety all on high. His little girl. His flesh and blood. She hadn't moved or spoken since he last saw her. He was thankful for the hospital staff. They were able to get her allergic reaction to Wolfbane under control but she was still unconscious. None of the meds she was on seemed to be working.

It′s so easy to listen.

When your tongue is an innocent prisoner of war oh yeah.

And it might bе wrong but we never еnd that.

Damage is done, always pain and pleasure.

To love someone so.

So much you hate them.

Push me over the edge then.

To go catch you, your love is.

It's bittersweet.

(What you want from me, want, want)

I build you up, then knock you down.

It′s bittersweet.

(What you want from me, want, want)

You stay quiet and I get loud.

It's bittersweet.

It didn't take Laurie long to come back from the cafeteria. When Shane looked up she walked in with food for them both.

“I'm not the only one who needed to eat.”

Shane smiled softly as she handed him a sandwich.

“Still nothing?”

“Still no change. But I'm not giving up.”

Laurie smiled at her husband's resolve. They sat together and ate their food in silence. Their eyes went from Naia to the IV drip machine she was hooked up to.

“Don't worry baby. Our girl will wake up.”

“I know she will. She has to. And when she does…we have to tell her the truth.”

Shane looked at his wife confused.

“Are you sure? Are you sure you’re ready to do that?”

“Look at her Shane! She wouldn't be here, hell we wouldn't even be here if she knew the truth. It's time. So when she wakes up and is lucid enough to hear it we'll tell her everything.”

Shane took his wife's hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Okay. If you’re ready and you're sure. Then I am too.”

Laurie offered him a small smile.

Yeah I know you know me.

That′s why you the only one can push my buttons.

Sometimes it's like you speak another language.

Got me like adios buenas noches baby.

Oh it′s pain and pleasure.

To love someone so.

So much you hate them.

Push me over the edge then.

To go catch you, your love is.

It′s bittersweet.

(What you want from me, want, want)

I build you up, then knock you down.

It′s bittersweet.

(What you want from me, want, want)

You stay quiet and I get loud.

It's bittersweet.

(What you want from me, want, want)

I build you up, then knock you down.

It′s bittersweet.

(What you want from me, want, want)

You stay quiet and I get loud.

It's always bittersweet.

While her body was still, Naia was subconsciously awake.

“Naia…”

Naia slowly opened her eyes, and looked around frantically and confusedly. She couldn't see anything or anyone.

“What? Where am I?”

That's when she heard a woman's voice.

“I've been waiting to meet you.”

When Naia turned around she saw a figure she didn't recognize.

“Who’s there? Who are you? What is this place?”

The figure in front of her soon materialized into an elderly black woman. One that she recognized.

“Oh…my…God! You’re…you're…Delia?”

She smiled at Naia.

“Hello, my dear. It's wonderful to finally meet you.”

Naia’s jaw dropped.

“But how?!”

“I thought you…you died a long time ago!”

“I did. 3 years ago.”

“Wait! Am I dead?”

Delia laughed softly.

“No dear, you’re not dead. You are in the world between worlds.”

Naia blinked in realization.

“I was here with Roman. Where is he?! Is he hurt?! Did Trent shoot him?!”

Delia placed a calming hand on Naia’s shoulder.

“All will be revealed shortly. I promise.”

Naia took a shaky breath then nodded.

“Now come sit with me. We have much to discuss.”

Naia followed Delia to a bench that appeared out of nowhere. When they sat down Delia cocked her head to the side at Naia curiously. Making her feel super awkward.

“Is there something on my face?”

“No. I’m just curious about you. You’re as beautiful as I imagined you’d be.”

Naia couldn’t keep the blush from creeping up on her face.

“A ghost just called me beautiful. I must be hallucinating.”

Delia chuckled.

“You said we had much to discuss. What are we discussing?”

“You, my dear. Your connection to the town, the people, and especially Roman.”

“I mean I’ve been in town for a few months. I don’t know anyone outside of my uncle Trent and the Pack.”

Delia nods.

“And what are your impressions of them so far?”

Naia chewed the inside of her cheek.

“Can I be honest with you?”

“Of course dear. That’s why we are here.”

“I understand why my mom doesn’t want me around Roman. Because to be honest, he’s terrifying. But at the same time…I can’t stay away from him. I can’t get enough of him. He makes me feel safe. And loved. And wanted. And I…”

“Yes?”

“I care about him. A lot. But I don't know if I'm ready to give up my life for him. I don't know if I'm ready to be his mate.”

Deli nodded.

“It is a lot to ask of a young woman. I would know.”

“How did you decide Delia? Or was it decided for you?”

Delia chuckles softly.

“It wasn’t my intent to be Xander’s mate when I first came to Hunt’s Peak.”

Naia blinked in confusion.

“You’re not from Hunt’s Peak?”

“No. Originally from the Pittsburgh area.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“I grew up in foster care so it wasn’t like many had missed me when I left.”

“So what brought you to Hunt’s Peak?”

“I was hired as a 5th teacher. I loved my job. Teaching children became my passion.”

“And how did you meet Xander?”

“I’ve always been a Wolfkin and I knew it was my destiny to become the mate to a member of The Pack but I never thought I would be Xander’s mate. But to answer your question, I was walking along the creek when I saw him and his father Ferdinand. We were smitten at first sight.”

“Oh…did his father accept you?”

“Yes, he did. And after some convincing so did his mother Cecilia.”

“When did Xander become Alpha?”

“Shortly after we met. Maybe 6 months or so.”

“Is that when you became his mate?”

“Yes. He courted me until he became Alpha.”

“Courted how?”

Delia smiled as if lost in a memory.

“He would come by the school. Regale my students in wild tales of werewolves as knights and kings and sorceresses and sorcerers. That sort of thing. But the biggest thing he did for me, was he planted a single night flower and let it blossom into a field full of them.”

“Sounds like he was a romantic at heart.”

“He used to be but when he became Alpha, responsibility and obligation replaced flowers and romance.”

“Was it hard?”

“No. Not at first. I always understood my role as The Alpha’s mate. And I cherished it. Becoming a sort of Den Mother gave me a purpose.”

“What changed?”

Delia looked at Naia with a new curiosity.

“He met your mother.”

Naia swallowed.

“Mommy told me how she met him.”

“I remember that. I remember when he told her no at first. I was furious at him. So I not so subtly encouraged him to reconsider not protecting her and your uncle.”

“Why did you do that?”

“Your mother was a child at the time. And your uncle couldn’t protect her as he should have. Only Xander and The Pack could do that.”

“She also told me about the day he offered her The Pack’s protection.”

“I remember when Xander told me about Bobby Giles threatening her. He was furious and I was disgusted. But we both knew that he couldn't just charge into town and rid it of him. Well, he could but it wasn't in his nature at the time. So he sent a few wolves in their human forms to investigate.”

“She told me that too. And the time that Bobby pulled a gun out on Xander.”

Delia snickered.

“The fool. He believed that his gun would scare Xander. But he learned the hard way that day.”

Naia shifted in her seat.

“Mommy showed me the necklace that Xander gave her.”

“I know about that. He gave it to her on her 18th birthday.”

“She also said that she was bonded to him.”

“She's right. She was bonded to him until he died.”

“Are you angry about that?”

Delia went quiet

“To be honest, I was very angry with her. Jaded and bitter even. But I realized after she left that my anger was misplaced.”

“Misplaced how?”

“After she left I found out that Xander was telling her that she was to be his new mate. And at that time your mother was a young impressionable girl.”

“He was manipulating her?”

“Yes, he played with her heart and preyed on it.”

“My God. Why did you stay with him for so long?”

“I was bound by Pack Law to stay with my mate until his death.”

Naia shuddered.

“Will that happen to me?”

“If you choose to be Roman’s mate you are bound by Pack Law to be at his side until his death.”

“Well, that explains what my mom said about you and Xander being married on paper.”

Delia nodded.

“If I was the mate of any other Pack member I could leave. But I was Xander’s mate. As was your mother. As yet…”

“She ran away.”

“Yes.”

“Can you tell me about Xander?”

“What would you like to know?”

“What did he look like?”

Delia waves a hand and a picture of Xander materialized in front of them.

“Whoa…”

“That is Xander in all his glory.”

“He and Roman look just alike.”

Delia smiled softly.

“Yes. He has his father's looks and stubbornness but he also has my heart.”

“Will I meet Xander?”

“No my dear. You won't.”

“Crisis averted.”

“So, will you be Roman’s mate or will you go back to your life as a human woman?”

Just as Naia was about to speak another panel appeared in front of her and Delia.

“What's this?”

“Roman. He's trying to connect to you through your bond. We are about to look at life through his eyes. These panels that appear are what life is like.”

“Why can’t he connect with me?”

Instead of responding, Delia put a finger to her lips then pointed to the panel. When Naia looked at the panel she was transported into Roman’s mind.

She and Delia were looking at a memory of them.

She had convinced Layla to let her turn Buck’s into a mini-movie theater for the pups and their parents. To give them something fun to do. When Roman heard about it he was both curious and thrilled. The girls decided on watching Lion King. With Gino and popcorn in hand, Naia snuggled next to Roman.

“So this movie is about…cats?”

“The circle of life. And lions.”

“…lions are cats are they not?”

Naia shook her head at the memory before turning to Delia.

“I remember this.”

“Do you?”

“Yes. It was the day I learned that your son doesn’t like my impressions.”

Delia chuckled. They turned back to the memory and as they did, they came upon Naia’s impression of one of her favorite scenes in the movie.

“Hyenas. I hate hyenas. So what’s your plan for getting past those guys?”

“Live bait.”

“Good idea!…hey!”

“Come on Timon, you guys have to create a diversion.”

“What do you want me to do? Dress in drag and do the hula?”

Roman groaned.

“Are you going to be like this the rest of the movie?”

“What? Gino likes my impression. You don’t like my impression?”

“…no.”

“Everyone’s a damn critic.”

Roman rolled his eyes. But he would soon find out which scene is her favorite scene in the whole movie.

“Hey! Who’s the pig?”

“Are you talking to me?”

“Uh oh! Did he call him a pig?”

“Are you talking to me?”

“Shouldn’t have done that!”

“Are you talking to me?!”

“Now they’re in for it!”

“They call me: Mr. Pig!”

And just as she got Pumbaa’s yell Roman clamped a hand to her mouth.

“Beloved…how am I to enjoy this movie you’ve chosen with your incessant talking?”

Naia just giggled as the panel changed to a more recent memory. One that Naia didn’t recognize.

“My…room?”

“Yes, my dear. This was just a few days ago.”

“But I don’t remember this.”

“Because you aren’t there.”

“What?! What do you mean?”

Delia pointed to the panel as it showed Roman walking into her room. He looked distraught as he looked around. Naia could feel his anguish in her chest. When his eyes fell on Gino sitting on the bed, she felt tears on her cheek as he held Gino close to his chest.

“I don’t understand.”

“The one he considers to be his mate is missing.”

“His mate? You mean me?”

“Yes, my dear.”

“But why is he looking for me?”

“Because your bond with him is disrupted. He’s trying to reconnect with you.”

“But why?”

Delia turned back to the panel as it showed Roman in wolf form curled up on her bed with Gino under his jaw. She felt his agony and his pain as well as his longing as he whimpered. He was missing her. He was needing her. Her presence. Her smile. Her laugh. It broke her heart. She stood up shouting to the panel.

“Roman! Roman! I'm here! I'm right here!”

Delia put a hand on her shoulder.

“He can't hear you. This is only a vision of what has already been.”

Naia turned to Delia with pleading in her eyes.

“You said that he couldn’t connect to me, why can’t he connect to me?”

With a wave of a hand another panel appeared. This one showed Naia lying in a hospital bed hooked up to an IV with her mother at her side.

“I–I–I…it can’t be! You said I wasn’t dead!”

“You aren’t Naia. You’ve been injected with Wolfbane. It’s a toxin that can be deadly but thankfully you were taken to the hospital in time to save you.”

“Injected?! How?!”

“You don’t remember?”

Naia stood there confused until it hit her.

“The tranquilizer dart! The one that Trent was using! Am I right?”

Delia nodded.

“If I’m on an IV then why haven’t I woken up?”

“Because the spirits aren’t ready for you to wake up yet.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

Delia looked at Naia.

“Answer this. Why do you think you’re here?”

Naia didn't know how to answer that question.

“I don't know.”

As soon as those words left her mouth another panel appeared. This one was of Trent after he left the hospital. He was in his boss’s office going off about Wolfbane.

“What is wrong with you Moses?!”

“The tranquilizer! You said it was harmless!”

“It is harmless! It effects those beasts and their ability to shift!”

“What about humans?”

“It doesn’t effect humans!”

Trent eyed him with an intense yet calm fury.

“What is Wolfbane?”

Bernard blinked in confusion.

“Where did you hear that name?”

“Answer the question!”

“It’s the name of the tranquilizer. It doesn’t effect humans.”

“Yes it does.”

“No it does not!”

Trent pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Naia was hit by one of the tranquilizer darts.”

“The young woman you brought here the other day?”

“Yes. She collapsed after being hit and is now in the hospital fighting for her life. According to her mother Wolfbane is a poison that you and Xander created.”

Bernard looked at Trent genuinely confused.

“Her mother?”

“I didn't stutter.”

“What was her last name again?”

“Evans.”

“I knew someone with that last name but it was a he not a she.”

“Probably her dad. Her mother’s maiden name is Roberts.”

Bernard’s face lit up.

“Roberts? As in Laurie Roberts? Zane Roberts sister?”

“Yes.”

“I knew that girl looked familiar!”

“What are you talking about?”

“I know her mother. Which means Xander was right. She did run off with Evans. I can’t believe she finally came back home.”

“Is what her mother said true? That you created this with Xander?”

“Yes it is but he took it too far. It wasn’t designed to be lethal. I tried to stop him but you can see what good it did.”

“So Xander truly was a monster?”

“Ohhh yes my boy. A monster indeed.”

As she watched with Delia, Naia wasn’t entirely convinced that Bernard was totally innocent.

“I don’t like him. I don’t trust him.”

“That’s Bernard Sayre for you.”

“Has he always been this way?”

“Oh yes. Even when I was amongst the living he and especially his motives were always questionable.”

“Why does the town let him do what he does?”

“Only the town can answer that.”

“I guess…”

The panel showed Trent in his cabin sitting on his couch with a bottle in his hand. Naia could feel his guilt and shame as well as his anger. His anger at his boss and anger at himself. He didn’t mean to hurt her. She just came out of nowhere. By the time he pulled the trigger it was too late. He didn't see her at first but when she dropped to the ground his heart dropped when she did. He wanted to be there at the hospital with her. To tell her how sorry he was. How much she means to him. How he wishes he could take it all back.

But at that moment he couldn't. All he could do was wallow in his festering grief and simmering anger. The same as Roman. This war had taken away a lot for both of them but this was the final straw. Trent wasn't about to lose to Roman again. And Roman had finally had enough of Trent being a thorn in his side. Both had subconsciously decided that this was an all-out war.

All of it broke Naia.

“They aren't serious are they?”

“Yes. Both are hurt and angry. Both at themselves and each other.”

“But I don't want this! I don't want them fighting!”

“Then you've found your reason for being here.”

“What do you mean?”

“You asked me why you were brought here. My dear, you were brought here to heal what is broken.”

“You mean Roman and Trent?”

“And your family. Your mother, especially.”

“Mommy?”

“Yes. She is hurting. And angry. And confused. And you are the key to healing her wounds. And theirs.”

Naia nodded.

“How do I do that?”

“You can start by answering your mother’s prayer.”

Delia turned back to the panel that showed Laurie. When Naia looked up, her mother was holding the necklace that Xander gave her. She looking out of the window to the moon in the sky.

“Spirits of the earth,

I don't know if you can hear me or that I even have the right to ask this. But I come to you with a simple prayer. I ask you to heal my daughter. She doesn't deserve to be here. She doesn't deserve this. She's innocent. If you're angry with me for abandoning The Pack and my duties as Xander’s mate I understand. But I beg you! Don't make my daughter suffer because of me. I beg you, please bring her back to me. Let her eyes open again. Let her speak again. I just want my little girl back. I need her back. Please! Heal her.”

Delia turned to Naia with a question.

“Now that you know your purpose, are you ready my dear?”

“Yes. I am ready to heal all that is broken.”

Delia waved her hand and the panels disappeared. They were replaced by a doorway.

“Then go. Your mother is waiting for you.”

“Thank you, Delia.”

Delia smiled at her.

“You're welcome, my dear. Tell my son that I miss him and that I love him and that I'm sorry.”

Naia smiled at her.

“I will.”

Naia stepped through the doorway and was transported back to her hospital room, just as her mother finished praying. She had moved her head slightly which both startled and excited Laurie.

“Naia? Naia baby are you awake?”

Naia’s eyes fluttered open and when she spoke her voice was weak.

“Mommy…”

Laurie had tears in her eyes.

“I'm here baby. I'm right here.”

Laurie was overcome with joy and relief.

“You came back to me!”

“I missed you, mommy.”

“I missed you too, baby girl.”

“We…have…much…to…talk…about.”

Laurie nodded resolutely.

“Yes, we do. It's time for you to know the true reason why I left.”

#choices #khoicesbyk #pixelberry #choices stories you play #choices fanfiction #fanfic #wolf bride

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itismarvelicious · 4 years

Text

In some kind of Jumanji way, Tony comes back in the far future, like very far future after some kids found an infinity stone. Doesn't really matter how or which one, it's the far future so we don't know any of it cause we don't know how many things happened since Tony died and the present. So Tony comes back in a world he doesn't recognize anymore. In a world the people don't even know him anymore.

"Who are you?", one of the kids ask.

"Tony Stark".

The kids remain silent like okay, that doesn't help us at all.

"Iron Man?"

The kids: ?

"The universe's savior? I defeated Thanos?"

"Who's Thanos?"

"Isn't that a villain in a comic book?"

Tony frowns. "I'm on earth, right?"

"Yeah"

"What year is it exactly?"

"4183"

Tony stumbles.

"Wow. You're okay?"

"Nope. What city are we in?"

"New York."

"It doesn't look like New York."

"So are you like, a genie? We found you and freed you and that makes us your masters? Can we give you three wishes each?"

"1, I'm a genius but not a genie; 2, I'm the one who's gonna be giving the wishes and I want you to take me to the NY sanctum, that thing must still exist AND I want you to buy me an American cheeseburger."

"What's that?"

"You gotta be kidding me."

Anyway, they go to the sanctum. The new guy there says he can't help him go back to his time but he knows of someone who can help. Thor arrives. He's super happy to see Tony.

"How long has it been, like a hundred years?", he says as he hugs him.

"Ugh, more or less."

Thor puts a heavy hand on Tony's shoulder. "So. I thought you were dead."

"Yeah. Turns out death isn't that peaceful."

"It only is when its time has truly come."

"What?"

"Something Loki taught me. Come, I'll give you a glimpse of your legacy."

"No one knows who I am, apparently."

"But your impact lives. It's okay, you know, no one remembers the name of the shortest-reigning Asgard king in history. Valkyrie totally eclipsed me."

So anyway, Thor shows Tony around. That night Tony sleeps at the hotel under the name of Howard Potts. Can't fall asleep. Remembers his conversation with Thor at dinner.

"How did they live?", Tony asked in the middle of a silence.

Thor dropped his fork, had a little smile, knowing what Tony meant. "Long", he replied.

"Happily?"

Thor sighed. Tony looked down.

So he gets up and takes a car, I don't really care whose, let's assume they borrowed a car during the day. Arrives some time later at the lake house. It's empty and dark, doesn't look inhabited. As he gets out of the car, memories fill the place like ghosts. He sees the happy times of Pepper, Morgan and him, until his own memory slowly disappears and three becomes two and the happy place becomes this dark and empty place again.

In the sanctum, where the stone the kids found is now hidden, the stone glows brighter and brighter. From outside, the sanctum trembles.

Thor finds Tony in the lab. It's dawn.

"Been working, huh?"

"Yeah. The mind's busy. There's still a lot of things I can use in here. Anyone else lived here after us?"

"Yeah. Parkers."

Tony raises an eyebrow, then chuckles. And goes back to whatever he's fixing on his workbench.

"You're planning on going back, are you?", Thor asks.

"I don't belong here."

"There might... Be one thing we need your help with before."

They're at the sanctum. There's a big hole in the roof, like when Hulk fell from the sky.

"We suspect whatever was there came out of that stone you came out of yesterday. Any idea what it could be?"

"Yeah. It's a chitauri."

The sorcerer squints. "The chitauris have been extinct for two thousand years."

"Well I guess I've been running away from them for two thousand years."

It's Thor's turn to squint. "When you said death wasn't peaceful..."

Tony paces the room, sits on the armchair in a corner. "When I snapped and died... I found myself in this world. I supposed that was the afterlife. Except I took everyone else with me. All those who were snapped and me, we didn't really die. And even when we died in that world, we... Couldn't die. I fought at first and when I realized that, I hid. And planned my way out. Looks like they found my way out."

"The stone."

"Yeah. I guess it would've never worked had no one found it to activate it on the other side."

We see the arc reactor floating down the water after Pepper slips it on the lake at the funeral, floating further and further away until it sinks to the bottom of the lake and rolls down slowly, passing the various weathers and passing time, disintegrating slowly, forming a smaller round shape, until someday that small round shape glows again, still travelling for some time until finally, a kid picks it up, drawn by this underwater glow.

"Tony. You created an infinity stone. A ressurection stone." Thor looks more proud than surprised.

"I created a portal. And I didn't close it."

Thor snorts. "Yeah, it's just chitauris, this should be solved in a minute."

There's a crack sound and a blinding light. Loud steps are heard. Tony breathes loudly.

"I told you I'd always find you, Stark."

There's shrieks and other deafening sounds around there, coming in louder and quicker like a flood. There's a lightning and Tony's projected backwards as the sanctum blows up. Among the flames, Thanos. In the grey smoke around him, his alien army.

"How interesting does the game become when it's real", Thanos says, walking forward slowly. "How should I kill you this time? Crush your skull against the wall? Tear your heart out of your body again? Cut your head off?"

"The only head off will be yours", Thor says, throwing stormbreaker. "Run!"

Tony runs, but towards the sanctum as Thor fights Thanos one on one. There, he looks for a weapon and finds a sword. Just as he takes it from the wall, something arrives behind him and Tony blocks the alien's pointy arm with his sword. Tony's become good at sword fighting just because I love sword fights and I want to see sword fights in superhero movies. So Tony's become good at it because he's got two milleniums of self training.

Anyway then Thor and Tony meet again, fight side by side, and then there's more noise coming, people in superhero suits appear, and lights in the smoky sky - iron armours.

"What's this?", Tony asks.

"Your legacy", Thor says with a proud smile.

Carol, Valkyrie and Nebula show up too. Loki too, as a frost giant because I'm mad we didn't see that in Endgame. There's webs being cast around Tony to protect him, a captain America shield being thrown, etc etc.

Tony keeps looking for something in the sanctum, still sword fighting the villains who come in his way, until he finds it again, the arc reactor stone, and he holds it in his fist, squeezing tightly. "Come on, please work". The walls collapse around him and in front of him, revealing Thanos behind it. Thanos smiles and with rapidity, throws a dagger at Tony, that hits his heart just as the nanosuit finishes wrapping itself around his body. The dagger falls to the ground. And Tony rises.

"Well hello, Mr Stark", a voice says in his helmet.

"Who are you?"

"A Stark."

Anyway, the fight ends with Nebula killing Thanos as it should be.

Once the fight is over, everyone is on the ground. Every iron people nanotech their suit away, I don't know how to say that. There's a hell lot of them. "So which one of you is a Stark?", Tony asks.

Several of them raise their hands, then step to the front. Among them, there's Riri Williams. Well that's up to you, I don't know much about her but I liked the idea that she could have very old Starks ancestors. Oh oh, or maybe she could have Rhodes ancestors! Maybe a Rhodes and a Stark at some point got more than friends. And then the daughter married a Williams, really whatever you want.

"The Iron Army is one of the most famous and respected in the universe", Thor explains.

The kids at the beginning just didn't really know about it because Earth has been one of the most peaceful planets in a long time.

Also there's a spider kid who introduces himself as a Parker and he looks exactly like Peter. Or he looks like the Peter Parker from into the spider-verse, that could be fun. Up to you.

Anyway. After that Tony manages to build the time travel stuff again and Thor helps him go back in time. "Have a happy life, Tony".

Tony arrives in 2023 right after his funeral. Everyone's gone. Tony knocks at the door. They reunite properly, with tears of happiness and kisses and then Tony says, holding them in his arms, "we're gonna live long. And happily." The end, I have no idea what I just wrote and I'm sorry for the plot holes, I definitely got carried away.

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ashtraythief · 3 years

Note

Not sure if this is how you suggest a prompt for your Underneath Verse, or if you're still taking them, but thought I'd give it a shot. Jared keeps worrying that one of his rivals will go after Jensen in some way to get a him. What if they do? Love your series!

Dear nonnie, sorry for this super late reply. I started working on this a long time ago, but then life happened and well. I honestly don’t know if I’ll ever finish this. It doesn’t have any bearing on the overall story and I don’t think there’ll be anything in there that we don’t already know about these two, but it was fun to think about. This is a little snippet of what I have, but I kinda got stalled on it after the plot kept meandering into ridiculous territory and I don’t know if I can fix it. So here’s a small offering of something that happened but I’m not sure on the details.

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

The Neverending Story had been on Jensen’s to-read list for a while. He’d heard the film didn’t do it justice and he was intrigued by the concept even though it was technically a children’s book. Now that Adam fron the Turning Pages had found him a really nice, old, two-color print edition, there was no reason not to buy it. Especially because there’d be no evening entertainment this week. Jared was conducting a business deal and he was paranoid enough to keep Jensen under lockdown.

If Jensen had known before, he would have made plans to just leave the city, but Jared hadn’t told him until the weekend. When Jensen had told him that he did not appreciate being cooped up, Jared had just shrugged and said to blame Chad.

“He’s paranoid, but he’s usually right.”

Jensen had demanded details and agreed to stay inside when Jared dropped Kurt Fuller’s name. Jensen knew about the Nato Syndicate, a drug and arms running cartel that operated anywhere in the northern hemisphere. They were dangerous and way above his pay grade and Jensen just hoped Jared would be prudent in his dealings with them. Jared might rule Chicago, but the Nato Syndicate had resources that dwarved the Chicago business five times over.

So Jensen had decided to go to the bookstore and get enough material to hole up at the house for a couple of days until this blew over. Jared would of course still be out and about—not showing fear—but he didn't want to spread his resources too thin. And since Jensen had no desire to be a pawn in an international drug or arms deal, he didn’t have a problem with it.

He was standing in front of the sci-fi shelves when he heard movement behind him too close to just appear. He spun around and raised his hands, but someone already slammed him into the bookshelf, arms around his neck and pushing up his chin. Jensen snapped for air, and then something sharp rammed into his neck.

Jensen gripped the arm around his neck to get space to breathe, stomped his foot back, hit a steel-toe boot. His vision started swimming, he didn’t have a lot of time, he reached behind him, felt a belt buckle, lower, his assailant made a sound of surprise, and Jensen grabbed whatever he could reach. Hard.

His assailant groaned and stumbled back, Jensen got a lungful of air, but his neck throbbed and everything went dark.

Jensen woke up tied to a chair, a low thrumming pain in his neck. Fuck.

An older man approached him, dark suit, slight potbelly, thin graying hair. “Mr. Campbell, you’re awake. Very good.”

Jensen coughed. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Kurt Fuller.”

So much for not becoming a pawn in an international drugs or arms deal. Well, Fuller was a businessman. If everything went according to plan, Jensen would be fine. Everyone knew that it equaled a declaration of war to harm Jensen. Unfortunately, the simple act of kidnapping would probably already send Jared into a tailspin, so Jensen needed to deescalate the situation before he died in the crossfire. Or get out of here before Jared did something stupid. But first, he needed information.

Jensen narrowed his eyes. “I thought you and Jared had a deal.”

“Oh, we do.” Fuller nodded assuringly. “Well, we did. See, one of my business partner’s plans changed so I had to adapt my plans. And I didn’t think your husband would be amenable to last-minute changes.”

Jensen pursed his lips. “Yeah, probably not.”

Fuller pointed a finger at him. “And that’s where you come in. Just a little insurance that I can go through with my business. And then I’ll return you to your husband.”

Jensen raised a skeptical eyebrow.

Fuller raised his hands. “Oh, no, I promise. I mean, everybody knows that Mr. Padalecki goes a little koo-koo where you are concerned. Very codependent, the two of you, almost irrationally so. And, really, I don’t need that kind of bad blood between us. So you are going to stay here, unharmed, and tomorrow, when my deal is over, I’m going to return you to your hubby. Good?”

Not really. Jensen didn’t think that it would make a difference to Jared if Fuller hurt him after abducting him—well, maybe the amount of pain he inflicted before he killed him—but kill him he would. Jensen didn’t say that though because he needed Fuller to think he’d get away with this so he wouldn’t hurt Jensen.

“You know, not many people would dare to kidnap me in the first place,” Jensen said casually; wanted to see if maybe Fuller was bluffing about the whole keeping him alive thing.

Fuller chuckled. “Well, they also don’t have the connections I have. I work for a very powerful organization and even your husband won’t want to make enemies of them. You see, your hubby, he has Chicago tight in his grip, oh yes, but this is just one city. Our concerns are much larger, much more global. But we recognize that your husband is a necessary business partner, so we want to play nice with you.”

Pointedly, Jensen looked at his shackled hands. “This is playing nice?”

“Ah yes, I heard you’re quite the maintenance. Well, if you promise to behave I have food and whiskey in the next room.”

“I’m more of a champagne guy,” Jensen said with a grin.

If Jared would play by their rules, he’d be fine. But Jensen already knew he wouldn’t. Jared didn’t tend to make the most rational decisions where Jensen was concerned. No, it was better if Jensen found a way out of here before Jared got the both of them killed.

“That can be arranged,” Fuller said. “Now, how about I show you the amenities and then we make a call to your husband so everything can proceed smoothly.” Fuller shot him a pointed look. “I assume I don’t have to implore on you that it is in your own best interest to convince your husband to go along with our change of plans.”

“I can’t guarantee that he won’t call you names,” Jensen said apologetically, “but I think we can come to an agreement.”

Fuller rubbed his hand. “Excellent. I do love it when a plan comes together.”

The food spread wasn’t too bad. There was bread and dip, some fancy canapés, a cheese plate, olives, and pralines. Jensen declined the whiskey, but Fuller said he’d already sent someone for the champagne. For now Jensen stuck to water.

He counted guards and doors while he pretended to be busy with the food. There were four men with MAC-10s, plus two guys coming and going through the only other door besides the one leading to the windowless room Jensen had woken up in.

Another guy came in, bringing a laptop and a phone. Fuller was going to scramble his location for the call.

“Jensen.” Fuller gave him a smarmy smile. “May I call you Jensen?”

Jensen graciously inclined his head.

“Wonderful. Now, Jensen, if you please…” Fuller gestured at the phone.

Slowly, Jensen walked over to him. He needed to impress upon Jared that he’d be fine if Jared behaved because if Jared started a war with Fuller, and by extension the Nato syndicate, they were all in danger.

Jensen took the phone, dialed Jared’s number. The dial tone came through the speakers from the laptop, loud in the room that had gone completely quiet.

Jared picked up after one ring. “Who is this?”

“Hey, babe,” Jensen said. “It’s me.”

“Jensen.” Jared let out a breath. “Where the hell are you?”

“I’m enjoying Mr. Fuller’s hospitality.”

“Put him on.” Jared’s voice was ice cold.

Fuller pointedly raised his eyebrows.

“Jared.” Jensen aimed for soothing. “Look, I’m fine. I’m unharmed. And I’ll stay that way if you let Fuller conduct his business.”

“That was the plan,” Jared said, voice shaking with barely contained fury. “I don’t understand why he would want additional assurance.”

Fuller motioned for the phone and Jensen handed it over.

“Mr. Padalecki.”

“Fuller, what the fuck?”

Fuller sighed. “I apologize, Mr. Padalecki, and I promise that your husband is indeed fine and will stay that way. The reason I invited him over is that I have to adjust our agreement.”

“You’re fucking kidding, right?”

“Unfortunately not. Look, this is not how I like to do business, but our supplier changed his route, so we need to adapt.”

There was a short pause, then Jared said, “Your supplier changed his route?”

“Yes,” Fuller said with a slight grimace.

“And you couldn’t just call me about that?”

“Mr. Padalecki, we both know you would have charged me an additional fee and I have reached my limit here. Now, as I said, Jensen will be fine. I am very much aware of the close relationship you have with your husband, and I have no intention of disturbing that.” He made a short pause for effect. “But I will if I have to.” Fuller waved one of his men over, took his gun. He raised the gun, approached Jensen and pressed the nozzle against Jensen’s chest. “Tell him, Jensen.”

Jensen sighed. “This is really not the best way to do this,” Jensen said.

Fuller pushed the gun harder against Jensen’s chest.

“Right.” Jensen turned towards the phone. “I am fine right now, but Fuller is pointing a gun at me.”

“That fucking—”

“Look, Jared, it’s okay. I’ve survived worse, okay? Just let him do his business and I’ll see you in a little while.”

Jarer drew in a very audible breath. “Okay. I just want you safe. You just hold on helm’s deep until the morning, and I’ll come get you.”

Jensen froze. He looked over to Fuller, who didn’t seem to have picked up on Jared throwing a fucking lord of the rings reference in there.

Helm’s Deep. Until the morning. They had watched the movies months ago, Jensen had made Jared watch the extended version with him, one Sunday, all three movies back to back from noon until into the night in Jared's giant home theater. Jared had protested, had said he actually knew the movies, and yes, they were okay, but Jensen insisted on the full experience. Jared had gone along with it, had enjoyed it even. And now this.

Yeah, Jared was not letting this play out peacefully, he’d storm whatever place Fuller had holed up in, and free Jensen with force. Great.

#anon asks #underneath verse #underneath prompt meme #my writing

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trashyswitch · 3 years

Text

An Unexpected Roommate

Chapter 11: Demanding The Truth

Robbie feels hurt and annoyed that no one will tell him what the paper said, and demands to see the paper. But his anger and frustration causes him to break something, hurting Henrik in the process.

This chapter (again) talks about PTSD, nightmares and anger. Later on, it makes references to police crimes and police brutality. Though the crimes are not related to racial bias, it's still police brutality nonetheless. Lastly: there is talk about the usual result of Robbie's zombifying process.

There is quite a bit of angst in this chapter, but it ends off on a good note.

Robbie woke up the next morning crying and hugging his stuffed dog. The nightmares of dying and waking up in the morgue had been plaguing him more and more lately. Some nights he almost didn’t want to sleep. Why would he sleep when he knows his head is gonna bring him back to what had happened?

Robbie angrily threw Bacon onto the foot of the bed. This sucked. He loved sleeping. And cuddling Chase without falling asleep in his arms was not as fun. But the nightmares were ruining it. Robbie hugged his head with his arms and started to growl to himself. Why did someone choose to kill him and his parents?! WHY?!

Robbie got off his bed, walked to the door and opened it instinctively like he always did. He grabbed the bathrobe he’d been given by Chase, and put it on. He walked out to the hallway and grabbed Henrik’s backpack filled with his stuff. He missed this stuff so much. But it didn’t fix the fact that his parents were dead and never to be seen again. He never even had a proper chance to say goodbye before the evil killer barged in and ruined his life.

Robbie walked to Henrik’s room and walked right in without knocking. He had no time for knocking when he wanted questions answered. He looked up at Henrik and immediately felt the need to hug him and cry his pain away. But he did that yesterday! And crying didn’t fix the fact that his parents were dead.

“Robbie? Do you hear me? Are you okay? Vhat’s rrong?” Henrik asked, growing worried.

Robbie frowned more. “I want answers.” Robbie told him downright. “Why did that man kill them? Why did I survive while my parents died and never came back?” Robbie asked with pain showing on his face.

Robbie noticed Henrik dropping his head and sighing. Henrik didn’t like to talk about it. He could tell. But Robbie needed to know! Now was not time to hide the pain that spiralled inside his head! Now was time to get answers!

“I wanna know!” Robbie told him.

“I don’t know. I do not know vhy your parents vere killed. I vasn’t zhere, and you do not say much.” Henrik replied. Robbie noticed how his english was more broken than usual for some reason.

Robbie walked up to the desk and looked around for the paper that Henrik, Chase and Jamie all had read. It must have all the answers! That’s why they were keeping secrets from him!

“Vhat are you-”

“Where’s the check record?” Robbie asked in a slightly demanding voice.

Henrik widened his eyes and got up. He walked to the desk and opened a drawer, revealing it and handed it to him. “Here.”

Robbie turned on the desk lamp and read it. But the words were all so big! Why must the words be so long and hard to read?! Robbie bursted out crying and threw the paper down before hiding his face in his hands. “I-I CAN’T REEEEAAAD IIIIT!” Robbie cried loudly. “Itknows w-why they died but I CAN’T REEEEEAAAD!”

Robbie leaned his head on the desk and pounding his fists on the table.

Henrik walked closer and was about to touch his shoulder…

STUPID BRAIN! STUPID BODY! STUPID PAPER!

Robbie ended up pushing all the stuff that was on the desk, right onto the floor. The room went dark again as he closed his eyes and started crying all over again. All the things he threw...It was all just stuff to Robbie. And none of it mattered compared to his parents. But Robbie’s thoughts were interrupted by a yelp and a crash. Robbie looked over with his blurry eyes and stared at the blob of adult body holding something…

Robbie quickly rubbed his eyes free of the tears the moment he heard sobs and cries from Henrik. What had happened? Did he do something wrong?

Robbie looked down and immediately noticed the shattered glass on the ground. Henrik was holding one of the large glass shards. But then Henrik threw the glass onto the ground.

“WAS ZUM TEUFEL IST FALSCH MIT DIR?!” Henrik suddenly shouted.

Robbie jumped about 5 feet away. Oh no...He’s SUPER angry! But what’s he saying?!

“Dies war ein Geschenk von meiner Tochter! Wie konntest du?!” Henrik kept going. He wasn’t yelling, but he was still speaking another language he didn’t understand. All he understood from that was the thought that it might’ve been important to him. “Wenn du wolltest, dass ich das verdammte Blatt lese, hättest du fragen können!” Henrik told him.

...What?

“Fahrt zur Hölle, Robbie.” Henrik shot at him through his teeth.

Robbie widened his eyes. It didn’t take much to understand those words were meant for him. Robbie’s eyes grew glassy as he slowly walked out of the room. But Robbie was quickly stopped by Chase. “Robbie? What are you doing up?” Chase asked him.

Robbie shook his head. He was too scared to say. Robbie turned around to Henrik, and welled up with tears. Quickly, Robbie ran down the hall from them into the dark. Robbie felt too terrible to face what he had done. He knew that he hurt Henrik somehow, and felt terrible for it. But he didn’t want to know what he had said to him. It could’ve meant anything. He could’ve yelled swears at him. He could’ve called him names. Or worse: he could’ve called him worthless without him even knowing.

The endless possibilities of what he could’ve said just filled his mind and spiralled out of control. He soon felt like a tornado of emotions and thoughts. By the time someone had walked in, Robbie was curled up on the ground, crying and sniffling.

Chase walked himself in with a paper in his hand. “2 Physical assault charges. That means he had to pay someone lots of money for hitting someone really hard two times.” Chase told him.

Robbie lessened his sobs a little to hear him better.

“Misuse of firearms four times. Firearms meaning a gun.” Chase explained. “Your father was not using the gun for good reasons.” Chase told him.

Robbie lifted himself up and looked at him. Chase knelt down and pointed at something else on the paper. “Manhandling. Your Dad was pushing someone around and treating them roughly like a football player would.” Chase explained.

Robbie walked closer and looked at the paper. “A-Austin has been given a warning of a $600 fine and...and a couple months jail time.” Robbie read out loud.

Chase looked at the paper. “Your father had to give 600 dollars over for…” Chase read a bit more. “Physical assault. Or, hitting someone really hard.” Chase explained.

Robbie looked at the signature and the name at the bottom. “I know that name!” Robbie told him.

Chase hummed in confusion and looked at the name as well. He didn’t recognize the name, but he knew from the documentation that it was the police chief. “You met the police chief?” Chase asked.

“Yeah!” Robbie ran to the backpack and came back with a car in his hand. “He gave me this police car!” Robbie told him. “It used to light up before the batteries died.” Robbie added.

Chase smiled and picked up the kid. “Let’s go put some new batteries in.” Chase decided.

Robbie smiled and leaned on Chase as he was carried to the kitchen. Chase opened up a drawer near the phone and pulled some AA and AAA batteries out of the packs.

Robbie got the police car bottom open on his own, and took out the old batteries. Then, Chase put the correct new batteries in the right way, and let Robbie put the cover back on. Robbie turned it the correct way and clicked the red and blue light on the car roof. Suddenly, the car lights lit up and a somewhat loud siren sound filled the room! Robbie gasped and giggled as he watched it. “It works!” Robbie declared.

Chase smiled. “That is a really cool toy.” Chase told him.

“I like it too! I used to pretend Dad was riding it around the city.” Robbie told him.

Then, Robbie’s smile dropped as the truth about his Dad had started to click into place in his head. Robbie looked at the police car. “If my Dad hit people, pushed people and played with his gun...then he wasn’t a good police man.” Robbie thought out loud.

Chase shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe he wasn’t. But that paper doesn’t tell us about the good things he’s done.” Chase mentioned.

Robbie looked at Chase. “So he saved people and hurt people?” Robbie asked.

Chase nodded. “That’s the best way we can look at this paper. Yes, he did some bad things. But I’m sure he did lots of good things too. Doing bad things and good things is what makes us human.” Chase told him.

Robbie nodded and thought about something. “Did you do bad things too?” Robbie asked.

Chase bit his lip and thought for a moment. Should he tell him? Or should he keep it secret?

...He decided to tell him. “Yes. I have done some bad things. I’ve lied, yelled at people, and broken things.” Chase told him.

“Why?” Robbie asked.

Chase closed his eyes and could feel his eyes growing glassy. “Be-Because anger makes you do stupid things.” Chase replied.

Robbie nodded and snuggled into Chase’s chest. Chase wrapped his arms around Robbie and sat down properly so they could cuddle. As they were cuddling, Robbie finally decided to confess what he did. “I got angry and threw some papers off the desk.” Robbie told him. “I knocked down a lamp that was special to him.” Robbie’s voice started to break.

Chase rubbed Robbie’s back. “There there. I know you feel terrible for that.” Chase said. “Do you wanna know why it was so special?” Chase asked. All it took was a nod for him to continue. “His daughter had bought that lamp and painted it for him.” Chase told him. “He also has a child that he never sees.” Chase admitted.

“Why can’t you see your kids? Why can’t Henry see his daughter?” Robbie asked.

Chase sighed. “When someone’s heart is broken from too many mistakes...they look for someone to blame their broken heart on, because it’s easier.” Chase explained. “It’s like lying. People lie because it feels easier than telling the truth. But lying breaks you more than telling the truth does.” Chase admitted.

“So telling the truth hurts people less?” Robbie asked.

Chase looked away for a moment. “...Sometimes.”

Robbie tilted his head. “I’m confused.”

Chase chuckled at that. “I imagine. The people on earth are super hard to understand.” Chase admitted.

“You’re super hard to understand, Chase.” Robbie admitted.

Chase laughed at that. “Mhm.

Robbie looked at Chase. “Henry was hard to understand. He was speaking german.” Robbie told him.

Chase nodded and scratched the back of his head. “Yeah...He does that when he’s angry, scared or laughing.” Chase told him.

Robbie lit up. “Like when he was being tickled at the doctor’s!” Robbie added.

“Yes! Like that.” Chase replied.

Robbie looked at him. “I’m scared of what he said.” Robbie admitted.

“Would you like to go over and apologize?” Chase asked.

Robbie nodded and allowed himself to be put down onto the ground. Then, Robbie turned off the police car, handed it to Chase and ran to Henrik’s room. He knocked on the door.

“Ja?” Henrik responded.

The kid held his hands. “It’s Robbie.”

Robbie didn’t hear anything after that. Just a bit of shuffling. Soon, the door opened and revealed Henrik in his PJ’s.

“I’m really sorry I broke your lamp. I shouldn’t have broken it. It was special to you and now it’s gone. I’m sorry Henry.” Robbie told him, his voice starting to break near the end.

Henrik knelt down and opened his arms to him. Immediately, Henrik felt the kid’s weight in his arms and hugged him tightly. “I forgive you Robbie.” Henrik told him. “And I apologize for yelling at you like zhat. You vere right: it vas special to me. But zhat does not excuse my reaction.” Henrik told him. “I was what the Germans would call, a dummkopf.” Henrik admitted.

Robbie giggled at the word and hugged him a bit tighter at his response. Robbie could somewhat understand what dummkopf meant, thanks to the first word’s pronunciation sounding like ‘dumb’. But beyond that: it felt nice to have the pain between him and Henrik patched up. Even though the anger lasted 15 to 30 minutes, it actually felt like hours to the small boy. The kid was just happy to have fixed up the tension at least a little bit.

Perhaps there was more he could do?

“Henry?” Robbie called softly.

“Yes?” Henrik replied.

Robbie pulled away to look at him. “Can I sleep with you tonight?” he asked.

Henrik smiled at the question and nodded his head. “Of course you can!”

Robbie smiled and fluffed up Robbie’s hair. Robbie giggled at it and fluffed Henrik’s hair right back before running to the bed.

“Ey! Come back du Bengel!” Henrik reacted, chasing after him to the bed. Robbie laughed and jumped onto the bed, wiggling his fingers. “Oooh no! No vey you’re gettin’ me and ticklin’ me!” Henrik declared.

“Okay, okay.” Robbie put his arms down and settled into Henrik’s bed.

Despite Robbie’s clear surrender, Henrik still took a couple extra steps to be 100% sure he was done. After all, he could’ve been just faking it.

But Robbie looked completely cozy and ready to sleep. So, Henrik crawled into bed and waved good night to Chase. “Gute Nacht Chase!” Henrik wished.

“Good night Henrik. Sleep tight you two.” Chase replied before closing the door.

Chase felt the door latch click shut and leaned against the door for a few minutes. He felt exhausted and quite guilty for telling Robbie everything. Even though Robbie had to know the truth, it was still a hard truth to wrap your head around. A policeman turned murderer with a wife and an 8 year old child? Talk about a heartbreaking family.

Chase’s thoughts were quickly interrupted by a yelping sound, followed by bed-rustling and laughter. Chase’s lips grew into a smile as he let out a few quiet laughs. Robbie’s an evil little kid who sucks at stopping when he’s ahead. Robbie’s simple ability to stay quiet and keep his motives hidden for so long, simply proved just how far his mischief could go. Chase had better keep his 6th sense awake in case Robbie pulls a scheme like that on him later.

But...That mischief and scheming was part of what made Robbie the boy he is. Finding the laughter in the hardest of times, and making things right when there’s tension. Maybe...Chase didn’t need to worry about how Robbie will take the new information. Robbie’s a smart kid. A lot smarter than they give him credit for. If there’s one person who knows how to fight his battles independently, it’s him. And if he’s hit rock bottom, he knows there’s an army of people to go to for help.

Chase smiled to himself as he walked away. ‘He’ll be okay...he’ll be okay.’

#an unexpected roommate #chapter 11 #angst with a hopeful ending #emotional hurt #angst and hurt/comfort #seek the truth

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gleamingrednuzlocke · 3 years

Text

Chapter 2: Over? Maybe not.

Hey everyone got the newest chapter up!

I have some news to share before we get on to the story. So I started a new job just last week, and this one is way different then my old job so stories may be a bit slow. Speaking of updates, expect an update for this story on Tuesday or Wednesday.

Enjoy!!

A loud repeating knock happened at the Rossi family front door. Rita was setting up the table for lunch when she heard the frantic knocking. She wondered if it was Neth coming to say goodbye before heading off. If it was, he better have some lunch at home.

Rita walked to the door and opened it, horrified at what she saw. Neth was crying, holding his passed out and bleeding Bulbasaur.

“Oh my goodness! What happened?!” Rita asked. Neth handed his mother his starter Pokemon, and he sobbed out everything that happened. From it being to a simple errand run to get Prof. Oak’s Parcel in Viridian to an attack from a little Rattata that did major damage.

The twins came down hearing all the commotion and crying. “Mom, what's going on?” Jodi asked. She and Jack gasped seeing Morganite in a horrible condition. “Holly Chanseys! What happened?”

“Your brother’s Pokemon was just attacked!” Rita shouted, as she was clearing out the coffee table to see the condition of her eldest son’s starter Pokemon. “Jack, Jodi go get the first aid kit for Pokemon!”

“On it!” They replied, saluting their mother as they dashed to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit, and handed it back to their mother who was checking up on Morgan.

The first thing Rita did was she grabbed a yellow-orange spray bottle, a super potion to spray on Morgan to help bring up his HP. A groan escaped Morgan’s mouth, which reassured Rita and Neth that Morgan lived through this attack, this time.

“He’ll live. Don’t worry.” Rita reassured her son. Neth sighed in relief, he wouldn’t know if he would bear losing his starter just before he took on the gym challenge. Rita then opened the first aid kit and took out some disinfecting wipes to wipe the blood off Morgan’s face so she can inspect the state of his injury. She inspected the grass-type a bit more, and saw that the Seed Pokemon didn’t have any other injuries other than his eye.

“How is he?” Neth asked.

“Morgan will be fine.” Rita told him, but a frown was still painted on her face. “But, he suffered an eye injury and will probably be blind in one eye.” She explained.

Neth felt like he was ready to cry again hearing his Pokemon could be disablbed, but he tried to reassure himself that Morgan is alive and things will be okay. He then looked at the table where Prof. Oak’s parcel laid, and sighed. He should’ve given the parcel to the Professor by now, however he’d cried so much he didn’t want the Professor to see him in this state. The trainer decided to have a bit of lunch first, and once he was calm he’d head straight to the lab and hand over the parcel.

Lunch helped Neth a lot, his mother made a simple lunch; a hot noodle soup and his favorite BLT sandwiches. He also didn’t realize how hungry he was as he already had a 2nd serving of soup and a third sandwich. After eating so much till he couldn’t move, Neth decided to relax a bit before taking the parcel to Professor Oak.

Before Neth left to hand the parcel to the professor, he went to check on Morgan. The Bulbasaur was fast asleep, and as much as Neth would want to wake Morgan up or put him back in his Pokeball, he was peacefully sleeping.

“I’ll be back buddy.” Neth whispered. Just as he was about to leave, Neth quickly went to remind his mother about Morgan. “If he wakes up let him know I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“I will.” Rita promised. Neth smiled and left home and headed for Professor Oak’s lab.

Neth made it to the lab and saw the Professor typing away at his computer. The trainer cleared his throat, which caught the professor’s attention. “Oh Neth, welcome back. What took you so long?” He asked. Professor Oak saw that Neth didn’t have his starter Pokémon with him. “And where’s the Bulbasaur you picked?”

The trainer’s eyes snapped open as the Professor just straight up ahead and asked him. “Uhh…” he had to think fast. Neth wondered if telling Professor Oak that Bulbasaur nearly died and is resting at his house would be a good idea, but as he thought about it, the thought of Professor Oak being mad at him played in his mind and it scared him.

“Well?” Professor Oak asked again.

“Oh!” Neth realized. “Morgan is fine. He’s resting in his Pokeball right now.” He lied, his only available option that wouldn’t get the Professor mad at him. Neth was nervous hoping the Professor would believe him.

“Well,” The professor started. “I’m glad you and your starter have been training well, and it’s just your first day as a trainer.”

Neth nervously chuckled, but felt relieved the professor believed his lie. “Y-yeah.” Quickly, Neth changed the subject and handed the parcel over to Professor Oak. “Oh here is the parcel from Viridian Professor.”

“Ah.” Professor Oak exclaimed. He took the parcel from Neth’s hands and opened it. Inside was what appeared to be a simple Pokeball, only it had an electric type symbol on it. “The custom Pokeball I ordered.”

A door opening loudly rang around the lab and the Professor, Neth, and the lab aids turned to see a young girl breathing heavily like she just ran a marathon.

The girl had long pinkish-red hair, almost the color of strawberries, and a yellow hat with flowers on it and also had green eyes. She wore a multi-colored, frilly top with short sleeves, green shorts, long white stockings with hearts at the top, and green shoes. She had a pink star-shaped shoulder bag with buttons that showed Clefairy, Jigglypuff and a Raichu on it.

“Sorry. I’m. Late.” The girl paused between breaths.

Neth recognized the girl and smiled. “Cassia!” He exclaimed.

Cassia looked up and saw Neth smiling at him. A smile appeared on the young girl’s face as she quickly ran and tackled Neth yelling his name, “NETH!” The latter felt the air give out from him as he crashed to the floor, which is probably much better then crashing into a shelf or Professor Oak’s desk.

“Oh it’s so good to see you! It’s been so long!” Cassia beamed.

Neth frowned. “Cass, I saw you two weeks ago at your place for lunch.” He reminded her.

Cassia let go of her friend and helped him up. “Sorry, but it felt so long for me!” She replied.

Neth chuckled, used to his friend’s peppy personality. “You always say that.” He said, rolling his eyes.

“Ah so you must be the third trainer I was expecting.” Professor Oak said.

“Yep! I’m Cassia Verdi!” She introduced. “Sorry I’m late. I overslept.”

Professor Oak chuckled. “That’s alright. It’s happened once or twice.” He reassured her. “However there is one Pokémon left. I hope you weren’t expecting Bulbasaur or Charmander to have been taken.”

The young girl’s face dropped when she heard her favorite Pokemon, Bulbasaur was already taken. “Aww.” She sighed.

“But,” Professor Oak started, which made Cassia look up. “I’m sure you and Squirtle might make a good team.” He then went over to the table and released Squirtle from her Pokeball.

Squirtle gave a stretch and yawned coming out from her Pokeball. She stretched too far and she fell on the floor. Cassia gasped, and blushed seeing the Tiny Turtle Pokemon and picked the Squirtle up from the floor and hugged her.

“Aww you're so cute!” Cassia beamed.

Squirtle looked up at the young girl and smiled seeing how pretty she was. “Is this my trainer?” She thought to herself. “T-thanks.” Squirtle replied.

“Aww. You’re welcome.” Cassia then looked up at Professor Oak. “So is Squirtle mine?”

Professor Oak nodded. “Yep. Unless you want to wait until next year for the starter you truly want.” He reminded her.

“I’ll take her!” Cassia beamed, her eyes sparkling with joy.

The Professor chuckled. “Alright. Let me get you and Neth’s Pokedex and Pokeballs and you're all set on your journey.” He told them.

“Thanks Professor!” Neth and Cassia replied at the same time. The Professor smiled and went over to his desk to get the items he mentioned as Neth and Cassia discussed what Cassia should name her Squirtle.

“So what are you going to name her?” Neth asked.

Cassia smiled as she already knew what to name her Squirtle. “I already have a name in mind. I kept a list.” She mentioned. “Since you're a female Squirtle, how do you like the name Shelby?” She asked.

“Squirtle tilted her head at her name. “Shelby?” She asked. Giving a nod she smiled, liking the sound of her new name. “It’s got a good ring to it!”

“So you like it?”

“Love it!”

Cassia squealed as she hugged her Squirtle tighter. Professor Oak turned around and handed two Pokedex to the trainers as well as their Pokeballs. “Here you two go! I wish you luck on your journey!” Professor Oak said.

Neth and Cassia thanked the Professor once again and left the laboratory. Once they left, Neth made a quick run to his house to go check up on Morgan. “Forgot something at home?” Cassia asked.

“No, I’m forgetting someone.” He replied.

Meanwhile, Morgan was awake and was now staring at himself in the mirror looking at his new injury. His right eye had a massive scar and the iris color had faded leaving the Bulbasaur with two different eye colors.

Morgan sighed seeing Neth was gone and worried his trainer left him. “Maybe Charmander was right. Maybe I am not strong enough.” Morgan thought to himself. The grass-type Pokemon heard the door open and saw his trainer come in. Morgan’s eyes widen seeing Neth.

It was silent between the Pokemon and his trainer. One of them had to say something, and Neth was the first one to speak. “H-how are you feeling?” He asked.

Morgan closed his eyes and turned away from Neth not saying anything.

“Are you mad at me?” Neth asked again.

Morgan opened his eyes looking down and shook his head slowly.

“I’m sorry I left you for a while. I just had to give Professor Oak the parcel we went to get.” He explained. “I was coming back for you.”

“You were?” Morgan asked, slowly walking towards his trainer.

Neth nodded. “I wasn’t going to leave you behind if that’s what you were thinking.” He told him. Once Morgan got closer he pet Morgan’s head, comforting the Seed Pokémon.

The Seed Pokémon smiled and let his trainer pet him some more. He didn’t know why, but Neth’s comfort made him feel a lot better than he did when he woke up.

“Thanks.” Morgan said, and he let out a chuckle. “It’s funny. Before starting my journey I was told that I wasn’t going to be the best, and that I’ll just be holding my trainer and my team back.” He explained.

Neth scoffed. “Who told you that?”

Morgan opened his mouth and wanted to say who it was, but stayed quiet. “It’s no one.” He replied.

Neth knew not to push Morgan too much after what he had been through. “Well, if you ever want to talk about it I’m here for ya.” He told him.

This made the Bulbasaur’s eyes widen. At this point he wanted to cry on his trainer’s lap that someone trusts him to share his feelings with. “Okay.” Morgan whispered back.

The trainer smiled and after saying goodbye to his family again and finally after a bit of a bump into the road their journey could start.

“Ready Neth?” Cassia asked, which surprised Neth and Morgan.

“Please don’t do that.” Neth begged, giving a sigh.

Cassia giggled till her eyes went towards Morgan. She gasped seeing the Seed Pokemon’s injury. “Neth, what happened to your Bulbasaur?” Cassia asked.

Morgan felt hurt seeing someone react to his injury and stepped back hiding behind Neth’s legs. Shelby saw her old friend and went close to him. “B-Bulbasaur?” Squirtle spoke up. Morgan recognized his old friend and slowly came up to her.

“It’s Morgan now.” He let out, quietly.

“Oh.” Shelby realized. “For me it’s Shelby.” She replied quietly as well. Morgan slowly nodded even though he was excited about his friend getting a nickname.

Neth and Cassia were now walking on Route 1 as Neth explained about Morgan getting attacked by a Rattata, which is why the Bulbasaur had the eye injury.

“Neth. I’m so sorry that happened to you.” Cassia said. “Now I feel bad for reacting to-“ the girl was cut off by Neth.

“Cass it’s okay.” Neth reassured her. “Morgan is fine.” He told her as he looked down at his Bulbasaur, who gave him a warm smile in reply.

“Yeah, but still…”Cassia replied.

Morgan then pressed his forehead to Cassia’s leg, grabbing her attention. “It’s alright.” Morgan started. Cassia gave a small smile, feeling calmer.

“Thanks.” Cassia replied. Morgan smiled and gave a nod. The group continued walking till Morgan saw a purple blur running across the grass. The grass-type Pokemon paused, as he recognized the purple blur as a Rattata. The Rattata attack played in his mind again, however not wanting to be scared anymore, Morgan started to run and tackled the Rattata to the ground.

To the grass-type’s surprise, it was a Rattata but something felt off about this particular one. This Rattata seemed a bit smaller than the one that attacked him. “W-wait!” Rattata yelled. “D-don’t hurt me please!”

Morgan quickly got off of Rattata, as Neth, Cassia and Shelby came by to see what was going on. “Morgan, are you okay?” Neth asked.

“I am.” Morgan replied. The group then turned to the Rattata, who was shaking like a leaf. It was at this point, the grass type Pokemon realized this wasn’t the same Rattata.

“I-I saw the attack.” The Rattata stuttered. “M-my older brother, he’s the one who attacked you! I-I couldn’t do anything, a-and I’m sorry!” He apologized. “P-Please don’t hurt me.”

Neth kneeled down to look at the Rattata. “What happened to your brother?” He asked.

“Captured! Another trainer saw his skills and caught him.” Rattata revealed. Neth and Morgan both sighed. Though Neth was a tad bit worried as most trainers own a Rattata or Pidgey, and any of those Rattata owned by a trainer could be the Rattata that almost killed Morgan.

“Well glad we may never see that Rattata again!” Cassia exclaimed.

“Rattata?” Morgan spoke up. “I’m sorry for attacking you like that, and I was wondering if you would like to join the team?” He asked.

The eyes on the normal-type Pokemon widened. “Really? You’d want me on?” He asked.

Neth smiled. “Of course!” He replied.

Rattata then jumped into Neth’s arms, which surprised the latter. “Thank you! Thank you!” He repeated gleefully.

The trainer chuckled and petted his new team member. “So, what to name you?” He wondered. Looking at Rattata he thought what name could fit him. One name then hit him, and he had to ask Rattata. “Do you like the name Jasper?” He asked.

Rattata chuckled. “Jasper sounds cool! Makes me sound tough!” He exclaimed.

“Alright, welcome to the team Jasper!”

#Neth #Morganite the Bulbasaur #Bulbasaur #Cassia #Shelby the Squirtle #Squirtle #professor oak #Jasper the Rattata #Rattata #Jack #Jodi #Rita

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flying-nightwing · 4 years

Text

Shame and Toxic Fame (vol. 1)

Ah! I’m back with a two (maybe three?) part story which is kinda inspired by the song Life of the Party by All Time Low (not shawn mendes lmao). If you don’t know it check it out it’s super good.

In this one reader is a famous singer because why not! Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Jason Todd x Music star!reader

Word count: 3727

Warnings: Mention of substance abuse (both alcohol and drugs), light bar fight violence

I spent an embarassing amount of time searching for a gif for this one oof

The night was going absolutely great until you took a look at yourself in the mirror during a quick fix up.

You were a mess.

Your red eyes were contrasting with your smudged dark makeup, your bronzer and highlighter were mostly gone and the poor imitation of a lipstick stain was stretched all over your mouth and teeth. You lifted a hand to fix it, but in your dizzy state, it didn’t do much. Your purple top was ruined with alcohol and your bracelets were stuck on your skin from the sugar of your drinks’ mixers. You had a moment of lucidity right there, asking how the hell you ended up at rock bottom so quick, but you didn’t like it. You reached in your pocket and took the last smiley face pill in your little plastic bag, and like it, you put a grin on your face and returned to the party. You grabbed a bottle of wine from the bar, made your way over the passed out people on the ground and rejoined the dancefloor.

You were dancing, high on the colors and sound waves around you when the illusion shattered.

Your ex walked in with his friends, laughing and joking like he owned the place. You gasped in offense at the audacity of him showing up to your birthday party. At your place. Like he hadn’t humiliated you publicly less than a month ago in front of the whole world. Your grip on the bottle tightened and you stomped in his direction. His friends noticed your first, halting their laugh and tapping him on the chest. His eyes met yours and they widened in humour at your state.

“You!” You screamed. The music turned down, the chatter died. Murmurs went around the crowd and cameras got taken out as people formed a circle around you.

“Me” He pointed at himself.

“How dare you!” You pushed him back, suddenly unhinged. He laughed with the crowd, holding his hands up in defense. But he wasn't taking you seriously. “How dare you show up here!”

“It said open house, darling” Now he was patronizing. “I can be here. Beside, happy birthday”

“Get out” You gritted your teeth. “GET OUT”

“No”

Without really thinking, you lifted your bottle and slammed it on the table, shattering it. Yelps went around the crowd, and they got even louder when you pointed the jagged end in his direction.

“Wow WOW” He backed up. “Fucking crazy bitch!”

You couldn’t really recall what went next. People came in between you two as he kept shouting for someone to “take this crazy bitch away from him”. Arms restrained you around the waist, you threw up, you think, and you blacked out.

--------

You groaned as you felt sunlight hit your eyes. You threw an arm over your face and forced yourself not to think about your fragile stomach. The taste in your mouth was foul and your head was pounding like crazy. Now you had become quite the expert on hangovers lately, but this one was definitely the worst you had ever had. And it became only worse when memories from the night before started to come back, if it was even possible.

The thought of that shitshow alone made you puke.

You turned around in your bed, knowing you’d have to clean the alcohol off your floor anyway. Beside, you wouldn’t have made it to the bathroom on time. But to your surprise, you found a metal bucket at the foot of the bed, ready for you to grab and hurl the content of your stomach in it. Only when you didn’t have anything more to throw up that you realized you did not own anything like this bucket, or that the bedside table had gone from your cherry wood to an unfamiliar oak grey. Thinking about it, you didn’t own a navy blue carpet, nor were your sheets that color either.

Fuck.

You looked around in panic when you realized that you were not, in fact, in your bedroom. You had been changed into a large t-shirt, but you still had your underwear underneath it as well as your purple tank top. You half sighed in relief, then hissed at the pounding in your head. You had sat up way too quickly and now you made it worse. Your eyes were dragged to the bucket, and your nose scrunched up. You would have thrown up again if there had been anything left in your stomach. Then your eyes trailed to the grey oak night table, on which there was your phone (plugged in a charger?) beside two ibuprofen and a glass of water.

Without question, you took them and drank the water slowly to make them pass. You were parched, but your stomach did not like the input of liquid right now. When you were sure the water wouldn’t come back out, you slowly reached for your phone and flinched even before turning on the lockscreen. Your fears were confirmed when you came face to face with about a hundred texts with the same thumbnail and a lot of capital letters and punctuation. You had a ridiculous amount of notifications from every social apps you had, and they were still getting in as you stared in shock at your screen. Your hand flew to your mouth, not from the threat of puking this time. Tears brimmed your eyes as you realized just exactly what you had put yourself into. You shook your head, feeling your breathing accelerate. You were overwhelmed, and instead of opening conversations--any conversation--you just shut your phone down and threw it on the floor.

“What have I done” You mumbled to yourself, trying to swallow back the panic attack threatening to surface. Dragged in the mud the remaining of your pride, that’s what you did.

A quiet knock on the door pulled you back from your own spiral of shame. You didn’t speak. “Uh, (Y/N), are you okay? I heard a thud from here”

“Yeah” You replied, and you voice came back more hoarse than you thought. The voice was male, and it seemed uncertain. You did not recognize it. “Thanks”

“... Can I come in?”

You considered refusing, as you were still too ashamed to face anyone, and still unsure about the intention of whoever brought you here. But then again, they didn’t seem to have touched you, and they asked to come in rather than barge in. Also, they had left a bucket. That was the most anyone did for you in a while.

“S-Sure”

The door creaked open and a tall man with dark hair stood behind it. He peeked inside, like he was hesitant to step in further, but he nodded to himself when he saw you weren't dead. And if you looked like a dressing room carpet after a Guns and Roses after party, which you most certainly did, he did not let it show on his face.

“I just wanted to make sure you were alright” He hummed. “Last night, you seemed pretty… Uh...”

“Wasted? Trashed? Ridiculous?” You offered with a sad smile, waiting for him to laugh at you or show you a video of what you did.

“I was thinking more of in need of a hand” He replied gently, taking you aback. “My brother and I brought you back here before the paps could swarm the place, but don’t worry my sister changed you. I wasn’t--”

You looked down at the shirt, then back at him.

“Thanks” Your eyes filled with water again.

“Oh, hey, no please--” He rushed inside. “Please don’t cry”

Obviously, that was the one thing not to say, because as if on cue you began crying. He grabbed the tissue box on the desk and brought it to you. You mumbled a thanks and blew your nose with all the grace left you possessed. Now you must have truly looked like a sight for sore eyes, bawling in a stranger’s bedroom as he handed you tissues.

“Hey, come on, it’s okay” He shushed, giving you awkward pats on the back. You could tell he didn’t do that often, judging by his awkwardness, but it did make you feel better. At least he wasn’t judging you like he should be; he must have seen the pathetic excuse of a fight that had gone down at your party. “Let it all out”

You finally calmed down after a few minutes, sniffing and wiping your eyes. You took a deep breath, then another one and nodded. Your glance trailed up to his face, and much to his credit he did not grimace at your state from up close. He seemed uncomfortable, but not enough to be on the verge of running away. If anything, he did look genuinely concerned, which was unusual for your typical entourage. “What’s your name?”

“Jason”

“That’s a nice name” You lifted the corner of your lips. “Where are we?”

“Wayne Manor”

Your eyes widened. He’s that Jason?

“Yeah” Amusement overtook his features while you froze. He figured you did not intend to say that out loud.

You were in the Wayne Manor with an actual legend, and you hadn’t even realized it. He was even more famous than you, mostly for being the Wayne son that was found after two years of having disappeared.

“I’m sorry to tell you that your reputation is now forever tainted” You scoffed weakly. “Bringing back the breakdown diva will make people talk”

He snorted. “I doubt that’s the thing I’ll be remembered about”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I, uh” He scratched the back of his neck. “You really don’t recall what went down yesterday?”

“No” You shook your head. “I can’t see past the moment I yelled at my ex to get out”

“Okay… Just to be sure, he was the bad guy, right?” He flinched, and your eyebrows knitted in confusion. “I might uh. You know what, it’ll just be easier to show you”

He fished out his phone out of his back pocket and pulled out a video, then dragged the time mark to one specific moment. He handed you the phone and you pressed play. It started as you smashed the bottle, making wine explode everywhere including on yourself. Not your proudest moment. Then the crowd shrieked and people came to break the fight, you were pulled out of view as Jason appeared, trying to make your ex back off. Something the mic didn’t quite catch was said, and that’s when you saw what he meant. In barely a second, Jason blocked your ex’s punch and replied with two quick ones of his own. Your ex was sent flying backwards, unconscious and bloody, and the video ended with that.

Your jaw dropped. “Oh god”

“Yeah” He sighed. “Sorry”

“Sorry?” Your eyes flickered back to him as you handed him his phone. “N-No, don’t be. I mean, he definitely deserved that”

It was his time to be taken aback.

“You’re good with that?”

“Obviously” You gave him a small smile. “I just wish I was the one who punched him”

“Well, judging by the smash bottle of wine you were holding up, I’d say you came pretty damn close”

You allowed yourself to chuckle before you remembered you were still a surprise guest in the manor. Jason had helped you out, but he and his family would probably want you out of their home as soon as possible. You looked down at your laps and fidgeted with your fingers.

“I, uh, I should go” You mumbled. “I don’t want to burden you much longer with my presence, uh, you must want me out of here”

He blinked.

“You’re not a burden” He replied. “You still seem pretty shaken up. You can stay here as long as you want, the house is certainly big enough”

You bit the inside of your cheek. On one hand, you really did feel like imposing. On the other hand, the offer really did sound tempting. You weren’t ready to face the world just yet, and Wayne Manor was the perfect hideout for you to ride out the embarrassment. But Jason had already been way too nice to you as it was, and it was more than you deserved.

You shook your head. “Thanks, but--”

“I know you don’t want to go” He interrupted you softly. “I can see it, and I understand. You don’t have to expose yourself to the vultures just yet”

You felt the back of your neck heat up. You had no idea any of Bruce Wayne’s kid would be so… Not what you thought they’d be. You surely did not expect that level of kindness.

“Don’t you worry, we’ve all been there” He looked up, then gave you a knowing smile. “Take your time, there’s a bathroom right behind this door, fresh clothes in the drawers and a fully stocked kitchen when you’re ready to eat something. I make an amazing hangover smoothie”

He stood up and walked to the door.

“Thank you, Jason”

He nodded, then left you to do your stuff. You remained on the bed for a couple of minutes, texting a few people close to you you were okay, before you got a draft of your own smell. You gagged and immediately went for the shower.

------

Freshly showered and changed, you timidly headed down to the kitchen. You got lost a few times on the way there, but you finally made it. You were relieved there was only Jason preparing food; you weren’t sure coming face to face with Bruce Wayne would be a great idea in your state. You were all cleaned up, but even a good wash couldn’t erase the bags under your eyes or the pounding in your head that made you flinch every now and then.

“Feeling better?”

“Much better” You smiled. “Thank you”

“Hey, no problem” He chuckled as he pushed a glass with a thick, pale green liquid your way. “Besides, it’s kind of an honor to have you here”

You cocked your head to the side.

“I mean, you’re pret-ty amazing” He said, taking a bite of his toast. “You have some admirers around here… Talking of which”

You followed his glance behind you, where a grinning, wide eyed young man was standing. You knew who he was, Dick Grayson was hard not to notice around Gotham. You were just surprised of his reaction from seeing, apparently, well, you.

“Hi” He smiled even brighter, if it was possible. “I’m Dick. Big fan”

“Hi” You gave him a small wave back.

“How are you feeling?”

“Uh?”

“I was there too yesterday. I held you up when you, well”

“Oh” You looked away. So, that was the brother that had witnessed your disgrace in live action. Super. “Yeah, I feel better, thanks”

“Great!” The sound made you flinch as it resonated in your head, making him mutter a sheepish apology.

“Alright Grayson, now’s not the time to be a fanboy” Jason teased, before he turned to face you. “Come, I’ll show you somewhere quiet to pass the hangover”

You grabbed your glass and followed him out of the kitchen and around the manor to some remote room on the end of a wing. He pushed the door open to a room with wide windows and warm lightning, a library you realized by the few bookshelves around.

“Make yourself comfortable” He gestured to the seats around. “It’s the most relaxing place in the house, because my siblings are not allowed here”

“Why is that?”

“My library, my rules”

“Your library?” You raised your eyebrows, but he just shrugged.

“They can use the big one” He explained. “This is my space, and it comes handy when you have four annoying siblings”

“Gotcha” You smiled lightly as you walked around the room, observing the book titles. He had interesting tastes, you had no idea again he was that kind of guy. Well, you knew next to nothing about him, come to think of it. But the little you thought you had right from the tabloids was totally wrong. You kept snooping around as he sat in a chair and opened a book, until you came face to face with a beautiful acoustic six strings waiting there. You reached for it, but pulled your hand back last second. When you glanced back at Jason, he was already looking at you above his book.

“May I?”

“Knock yourself out” He gestured to it, then returned to his book.

You restrained your new found excitement as you carefully picked the guitar up from its stand and carried it to a seat. A couple of strums told you it was slightly out of tune, so you adjusted the keys until it sounded on the note. You began playing the strings softly and humming along, until you felt Jason’s stare on you. His book was down on his laps and he had an interested glint in his eyes. Your fingers paused as you felt once again the heat creep up your neck.

“I’m sorry if I’m disturbing your reading” You mumbled, suddenly feeling bad for violating his silent heaven.

“No, don’t worry” He reassured. “It’s quite nice. Did you compose that yourself?”

“Uh, yeah” You nodded. “It’s been so long, though. I don’t compose much anymore”

“Why?”

You smiled sadly. “I now have an extensive team of producers that make my music for me. Apparently, getting that catchy, polished, flawless radio hit is the priority these days. Better for business”

“Yeah well, that’s bullshit if you ask me” He leaned slightly forward. “I think a personal, heartfelt song will always be better”

“You and I both” You sighed. “Honestly I have no idea how I ended up here, or where I went wrong”

“What do you mean?” His eyebrows drew in confusion. “You didn’t go that bad”

“Are you kidding me?” You choked on air, your eyes widening. “Haven’t you followed the tabloids the last year? Hell, you were there yesterday. You saw how trashed I was, and that was hardly an exception. I have earned a title of Breakdown Princess for a reason”

“Maybe” He shrugged. “But you were part of a culture putting inhuman pressure on public figures, especially women to perform and be perfect all the time ever since you were what, sixteen? And with what I’ve seen from that guy I punched… Anyway. All I’m saying is, don’t blame yourself too much for a game you were tricked to play”

You could only stare at him blankly, blinking rapidly. You had expected him to get it a bit, with being the son of Bruce Wayne and all. But holy shit, even you had never seen it like this before. Maybe he had a point. When you looked at it, the pressure you endured from everyone around you, the endless parties your agent had booked you to attend, the new album, the promos and press tours, actual tours, the substance addiction scandal, all the shit with your ex that tanked your reputation, hitting rock bottom…

The last year had been hell, to say the least.

“How do you know all that?” Your question was genuine, and he gave you a quizzical half smile and a little shrug.

“When I told you earlier that we’ve all been there…” He trailed off. “Just know that I know how it feels. To have pressure to be someone you’re not”

“Well” You took a deep breath. “Thank you, I think I needed to hear that”

“Don’t mention it” He leaned back in his chair, before his expression subtly changed. “Actually, I’d have a little request, if you don’t mind”

“Go ahead”

“Could you play that song for me?” He asked. “I’d like to hear it”

You smiled and nodded at the innocence of his request. Of course you could do that to the person that literally swooped in and saved the day, and provided you with care after your own shit show. You began strumming the song you were playing just before, this time fully singing along. It had been years since you had played it, but it was your favourite you had ever written, and you still remembered it by heart. It made you smile even more, definitely bringing you in a good mood. You played the last chords of the song and looked up to see Jason hanging onto every sound.

“I…” He began. “Wow. Why was that never released again?”

You shrugged lightly. “My agent wouldn’t let me, I guess”

“You should release it anyway” He continued. “This is honest to god amazing”

“Thanks” You let out a quiet laugh, scratching the back of your neck. “Honestly, I wish I could just… Fire everyone. And get back to the basics, release my on stuff, you know?”

“Then do it”

“I can’t just do it” You replied quickly in confusion. “There are contracts and--”

“Sure you can” He said, an amused yet relaxed expression on his face. “I, Jason Todd, give you the explicit permission to use the Wayne name to scare any lawyer getting in the way of your full emancipation”

You laughed at his self assured grin, but also to hide your surprise. Of course, you knew the Wayne lawyers were the best in town and would most probably put the fear of god in the heart of your record label and agent, but you still weren’t sure if he was kidding or not.

“I’m serious” He added after a moment. “If you need help to get out of these contracts, we’re more than willing to help”

“You’d do that for me?” You asked carefully. “I’m just a stranger”

“Ah well, helping strangers is kind of our thing here” He hummed, looking up at the ceiling before his glance met yours again. “Besides, it’s really cool that you’re here. All of us will so be plugging that we know you in every conversation from now on. Especially Dick”

You laughed again, lighter this time.

“Be my guest” You grinned. “I doubt it’ll achieve anything but raised eyebrows these days but if it makes you feel good…”

“Superb” His grin matched yours. “Now, I’ll let you play in peace”

“And I’ll let you read in peace”

You exchanged a smile, then kept messing around the chords as he picked up his book again.

#Jason Todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd reader #dc #dcu #DC Universe #dc imagine #dcu imagine #dc universe imagine #batfam #imagine #au

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tev-the-random · 4 years

Text

Je t’aime

(Another Miraculous One Shot, because yeah.)

Oh man, it’s been so long since I wrote so much, I’m happy! Anyways, enjoy the angsty Lukanette I thought about when I was wondering what tearjerker scenarios I could come up with.

Also on AO3!

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

That was supposed to be just another normal day.

Of course, the concept of a normal day in Paris was very different from other places. If you take into account the magical terrorist attacks that happened every twice a week – sometimes more, sometimes less. Usually more, because the universe is apparently an ascending comedian with quite the twisted sense of humour – and the (also magic) superheroes that swung around the city in an almost daily basis, Paris was pretty far from ever being normal. But honestly, you get used to it; you have to, unless you want the aforementioned magical terrorist to target you and your fear.

Sometimes people do fall victim to their own negative emotions, however. That’s when the akumas happen. That’s when Ladybug and Chat Noir enter the scene. They were the superheroes, the dynamic duo responsible for stopping super-villains, re-establishing peace across Paris and, occasionally, fixing some major security issues – crazy hero wannabes included. They were powerful, strong, invincible, miraculous…

And Luka was just a guy on a bike. So obviously, he chose to stay out of the way once the latest akuma decided to wreak havoc on the streets. A quick detour from the centre of things should keep him out of trouble, right? But then, the “quick detour” ended up becoming a gigantic detour as the fight of the day heated up, and he couldn’t keep much further away unless he left Paris. You see, battling six versions of the same akuma took a much larger area than battling just one. It’s only reasonable that Ladybug and Chat Noir used a lot of space to take on six versions each.

That sure was a harsh battle.

Luka was once magic too. He got to be magic a few times, actually. As Viperion, he had the ability to call for a Second Chance. A powerful ability, he might add; one that, albeit very useful, demanded its bearer to be wise. So even if circumstances might never allow him to become Viperion again, Luka felt honoured that Ladybug deemed him the right person for the job. He was glad he got to be a superhero.

But right now, he was just a guy on a bike. And there was only so much he could do to help – or rather, there was only so much he could do to not make matters worse, and not throwing himself in harm’s way without a miraculous felt like a great starter.

There was a loud “crash” sound in the distance, followed by the quake of the floor and the screams of people. The centre of Paris was engulfed by light and filled with smoke that spread to the outskirts of the city.

Luka was all but hoping Ladybug and Chat Noir were alright; he was all but praying his loved ones were alright.

The akuma’s name was Truth Digger. Whether it was a reporter desperate for a scoop or a person who had been lied to one too many times, Luka didn’t know. What he did know, however, was that the truth had many versions, and so did Truth Digger. And at the moment, all of those versions seemed set on uncovering people’s secrets, be it by stripping them of their disguises or by making them spill everything they previously kept to themselves; the akuma also seemed to have a knack for destroying things with what appeared to be a sword-like pencil – that wasn’t exactly the weirdest thing Parisians had seen so far, to be honest.

To fight an akuma worth twelve villains – unbeknownst to him, there were now sixteen of them – without ever being touched and having their identities revealed was a challenge Ladybug and Chat Noir hadn’t faced yet. It’s not that he didn’t believe in their saviours, but Luka had seen it before: Paris’ favourite superheroes, despite all of their might, were only human. They had feelings the young musician could translate into a more than a little chaotic melody.

Maybe they were invincible. But that didn’t mean they never felt the toll of it. So Luka wished the battle ended soon; if not for Parisians’ sake, then for their heroes’. And the universe had better keep its jokes to itself for another week, otherwise he’d be having a strongly worded conversation with it.

The blue-haired boy got off his bike and peered at his surroundings. He was in a more deserted part of the city now; there was nobody around except for him. Smoke and dust filled the air like a faint mist and the floor still rumbled from impacts far away. A flock of pigeons passed him by, trying to escape the noise, for even pigeons knew how to identify a threat. The wind made an eerie sound as it hit the dirty graffiti-filled walls, like it rehearsed to be the symphony of disaster.

Luka ignored the ominous atmosphere. He was fairly sure he would reach the Seine if he took a series of turns starting with the third street to the right. He would probably reach the Liberty before dusk and, if he dared be so hopeful, the akuma attack would also be over until then.

The boy was about to hop on his bicycle again and head off, but something made him stop. It wasn’t the tremors of the floor nor was it the pigeons or the wind. It sounded like footsteps. Very slow and dragging footsteps, accompanied by panting.

Despite his better judgement, Luka decided to put his bike aside and follow the noise before it died out in the distance. Of course, it could pretty much be a deadly trap – that was another thing you learned with time: you have to be careful with your surroundings, for even little butterflies held an unbelievable amount of danger in Paris –, but it could also be someone in need of help. Maybe he wasn’t a superhero right now, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t pay assistance if he could.

His own steps echoed along with the wind, and the boy hurried through the streets he barely knew how to navigate, his tuned ear guiding his way. Then he saw it: a short figure walked down an alleyway a few meters away. It stumbled about in a weak manner, each breath it took sounding extremely agonizing. It groaned in pain, and Luka quickened his pace as he heard a loud thud. He only stopped in his tracks once he looked at the path the stranger had walked on– it looked like sheet music written in red. Bloody footprints stained the floor; bloody hand marks stained the walls; there were splotches of blood here and there, and it all went on and on in what seemed to be an endless trail leading to wherever that person had come from. It looked like a horror movie scene.

A chill made its way up Luka’s back, and he was starting to doubt his ability to help out.

There in the alleyway, the person lied on the floor, bleeding out and quivering. The torn dark jacket went up and down slowly under the painful, deep breathing. Their pink jeans and once-white flowery shirt were stained red everywhere. Their dark hair was hanging loosely from two messy pigtails, and bluebell eyes struggled to stay open.

It hit him.

This wasn’t just a random horror movie Juleka put on to try and scare him. This was a nightmare. A true nightmare. It had to be a nightmare…

The floor seemed to have disappeared under Luka’s feet, yet somehow he managed to trip his way over to her. There was such a major tug in his heart he actually felt like someone had pulled it out of his chest and stepped on it. Had he noticed he stopped breathing, he’d be gasping desperately for air. How does one keep level-headed again? Is it possible for a human mouth to go this dry?

However Luka imagined his “normal day” would go, it surely never included a bleeding-to-death Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

‘Marinette!’ he called. His hands were shaking, yet he touched her shoulder with most delicacy ‘Marinette, do you hear me?’

She responded with a low groan. Or maybe it was actually a mumble and Luka’s usual mumble translator was just broken under the panic that filled his mind. In anyway, he turned her around so she’d face up.

‘Can you understand me? Are you awake?’ He tried to keep his voice as calm as possible. His hands immediately went to her sides to try and stop the bleeding; he soon found that she had already tried to take care of that. Despite it being soaked with blood, Luka recognized the beautifully patterned cotton scarf Juleka had on earlier that day. She did say she was going to give it back to Marinette at school.

Oh God, was Juleka ok?

‘Hey, Marinette! Talk to me!’ he called again, undoing the weak knot on her improvised bandages and tying it again more firmly. He could feel the deep, wide wound under it, and was quite sure skin and muscle were not the only things that were damaged.

‘Chat… Noir…’ Marinette murmured closing her eyes.

‘Hey! Marinette, look at me! Right, that’s right- keep your eyes open… What happened?’

While he waited for an answer, Luka reached for his phone to call for help. He could barely hide his horror and annoyance upon seeing that there was no signal at all – the absolute perks of destructive akumas doing their thing, he thought with sarcasm.

The building anxiety he felt did Luka no good when he got up and felt his legs falter under his weight. He left the alleyway, looked around down the dust-filled streets. There was no one in sight, and half the windows of every house were shut tight; the other half was wide open to completely empty places. Luka wouldn’t discard the possibility of the akuma having wiped out the area of its residents.

The blue-haired boy went back to the girl in pigtails. He unconsciously reached for a guitar he didn’t have on him in an attempt to calm himself. In the brief seconds of silence that followed, Marinette blinked a few times, trying to get rid of the blurry in her vision.

‘Luka…?’

‘Yeah,’ said Luka, relieved she was conscious enough to recognize people ‘Yeah, it’s me. Don’t worry, we’ll get you some help…’

He wasn’t so sure, and he could hear it in his own voice. Mixed thoughts of fear and coldness swirled in his mind like ink on water. All Luka had were his bicycle – his guitar was in its basket, although he wouldn’t remember that – and his phone with no signal while a devastating akuma battle went on not far from them. He couldn’t call for help, but he couldn’t just leave Marinette there, either; he couldn’t possibly balance her on his bicycle in the state she was and, despite considering himself strong enough to carry the girl, he would be too slow to take her anywhere before it was too late.

Meditation never prepared him for this! Oh God, what should he do?!

‘W-we’re going to get you help, we’ll- I will-‘

‘Luka,’ Marinette cried hoarsely, and the boy was startled at her firm tone ‘The akuma...’

She held his wrist – cold. Her fingers were horribly cold – and pulled it closer. Luka soon understood she was asking him to take whatever she had secured in her firmly closed hand. He held his palm open, and she dropped something on it.

Her earrings.

… Of course.

‘Don’t let them take it,’ Marinette said without taking her eyes off the jewels. Her breathing increased again, raspy against her throat. ‘Whatever you do, don’t let the akuma have it! Keep it safe, they can’t- you can’t let them-!’

‘I won’t,’ Luka reassured her, pointedly putting the pieces of jewellery inside the inner pocket of his jacket. ‘They’re safe with me, ok?’

‘Don’t let them even know you have it!’ she added as if his statement only worsened her worry ‘I-I don’t want them to hurt you!’

‘Marinette…’

‘They’ll be coming for the earrings, and then it’ll be the end! The end of everything!’ She winced at that ‘All because I couldn’t protect- I’m- they’ll finish me off and all I’ve ever done was-‘

‘Marinette,’ Luka intervened in a firm yet soothing tone. To keep that tone when he actually felt like yelling had to be a talent. ‘I promise I’ll keep your earrings safe. They are safe. You are safe.’

‘Am I…?’ Marinette’s voice went suddenly so quiet and yet so anxious, Luka felt another tug in his heart.

The more he looked at her, the more painful it felt. She was pale – not like paper or chalk, but rather in a very ghost-like manner, especially in contrast with the strong red tinge of blood streaming down her lips. There were bruises everywhere on her visible skin and a particularly bad-looking black mark under her right eye; there was a trail of dry blood going down her neck from her dilacerated ears – those earrings certainly weren’t taken off the way they should. Her eyes had lost their usual brightness; they looked tired, afraid… but there was still something in there that could only ever be found in Marinette’s eyes.

Really, was she safe?

Luka noticed that the designer girl still had his wrist in her increasingly weak grip.

He held her hand.

‘You are’ He put on the softest, most tranquilizing smile he could manage. ‘You’re safe and nobody will hurt you… see?’ He squeezed her hand gently ‘I’m here.’

Marinette watched him for a moment and opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something, maybe force a smile or fake a soft giggle. She gave his hand a trembling squeeze in return.

‘I failed,’ she stated weakly.

‘No, you didn’t…’

‘I did. And I don’t want them to die because of that. I don’t want Chat to die because of that, I don’t want you to die because of that…’

Marinette’s eyes filled with tears. Luka was at a loss for words. He wished he could play her something to make her happy. But he couldn’t.

‘Luka…’ she choked ‘I don’t want to die…’

Marinette placed her free hand on her injured torso, seemingly ignorant of the pain that shot through her entire body; or perhaps too aware of it.

‘I don’t want to die! I don’t want to-!’

Keeping a soothing smile – a smile he was so used to keeping – seemed like a nearly impossible task. Maybe because he couldn’t bear seeing her distressed, maybe because he knew why she was saying that, despite how untrue he wanted it to be.

Luka lifted the girl up as delicately as he could and shifted so she would be laying on his lap, cradled in his arms, head against his chest and her hand on his.

‘I know. It’s alright, Marinette,’ he murmured ‘I’m here. I’m here with you. It's alright…’

Marinette didn’t sob. She didn’t have enough strength in her to do so. There was just the harsh breathing and the slow stream of tears. Something inside Luka completely shattered, and he felt tears well in his own eyes.

When was it that he last cried? Truly cried? He had a very faint memory of a day in the park, when he had fallen from a tree and broken his arm. He and Juleka were only kids back then, yet he remembered the tears only went on for a short while before he was smiling again; because, to Luka, his pain meant way less than seeing his sister panic for him. He knew Marinette was just the same.

‘I don’t want to go.’

‘You’re here right now, aren’t you? And I’m here with you. We’re both here, you see?’

She was simply the sweetest melody Luka had ever heard. She was the kind of person who would put others before herself and put herself in others’ place, even if it meant lowering her own volume.

She fumbled with her words and actions in a way that made for a very confusing set of notes, but she never meant anyone any harm.

She would try to do everything and a little more in order make the most of herself every day, which often sent her mental state for a worrisome crescendo. But she never backed down.

She was brave, but not fearless. And she was smart. And just. And funny. And kind. And sincere. She surely was a little miracle of her own, and there was so much she could still do…

The truth is that Marinette was powerful. She was strong. But she was not invincible.

Luka felt helpless. Hopeless. Death wasn’t something he was afraid of, neither were loneliness or silence. But his melody was fading away and the silence she left was the deadliest he’s ever heard.

And there was nothing he could do.

‘I love you,’ he whispered.

It was a simple thing, and one he was so sure of, he almost felt selfish for letting her know now. It sounded like something he’d played for her before, albeit not with those exact same lyrics; those simple three words that didn’t really mean much more than what he had already said.

Luka was bad with words. So he played. And with so many options to take, “I love you” was the song he decided to go with.

He didn’t really expect Marinette to make it a duet:

‘I love you, too.’

He locked his gaze in her bluebell eyes. She looked at him with sincerity, even if between the tears that were still lingering from her lashes.

He wanted to be happy. He really did. Because in normal circumstances, he would be so, so happy. But then again, it would have been so much better had she never said anything, if it meant he could see her well. Ups and downs and well. Away from him, if she wanted, but well.

If there was ever a moment Luka wished to use a Second Chance, that moment was right now. But if he had the chance to be magic once again, could he have stopped it all before things got out of hand? If she allowed him to have a miraculous again, could he have been of use? Ladybug was the true heroine, not him. He was just a guy in a nightmare.

He should be wiser than that, shouldn’t he? He should be better than that, shouldn’t he? He should have helped her out, shouldn’t he?

‘Luka?’

It was her whisper that brought him back. She still looked at him, her eyes going in and out of focus. There was still something in there that he could only ever find in Marinette’s eyes, and Luka was afraid he was going to be the last one to see it. It didn’t feel fair.

He breathed deeply and gave her a gentle smile. He was a professional at that, even if his smile was a bit quivering, a bit sad. It didn’t matter. With his free hand, he brushed her bangs out of the way and placed a tender kiss on her forehead.

‘You did really well, Marinette,’ he said.

Luka didn’t dare look at the girl anymore. He only held her and pressed her head against his chest, a soft hand on her hair. He could feel her smile for a second as her breathing quieted out and her grip on his hand became weaker, limp. As her melody came to a close.

It didn’t even get to be a full minute.

And Luka was left in the silence.

#Miraculous Ladybug #Luka Couffaine #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Lukanette #One-shot #Writing #Word Count: over 3000 #Warning: blood and character death #I hope you cried #(I'll go hide in the shame corner now)#(not because I straight out killed Marinette)#(but because of how cheesy it sounds to me)#(If I put this work on hold any longer I'll never publish it)#(I'll let you imagine what Luka did next)#(I know I sure did but I don't want to tell y'all)

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shootingcookielover · 4 years

Text

Sanders Sides Super hero AU

Have this Sanders Sides Superhero AU!

Basically, all the sides have a so-called ‘power object’ (I swear I didn’t realize how similar this is to Miracuolous- It wasn’t intentional-) which gives them superpowers and costumes when in use. For example, Deceit has gloves and when he puts them on, they activate, while Remus has a morning star which he only has to pick up. In use not only means that they get powers and a costume, but, because I’m a very visual person and envisioned this as a comic, how the world looks to this character changes as well.

Also they are definitely all friends or related, but fail to recognize each other. When they’re in super- mode they have two groups: Supervillains and Superheroes. Deceit and Remus are supervillains, everyone else is a superhero. (Except Virgil, maybe? He’s definitely got questionable loyalties.) Supervillains got pointy long ears, superheros got ‘normal’ ears.

Remy is in this, too. He can only be seen in super-mode. He pops in and out and totally doesn’t work for another villain in the shadows, maybe Thomas or the mysterious orange side.

Now, have some art:

Ethan didn’t know how to process what was happening. His grandfather - the absolute best person to have ever existed - had died. Right on his fifteenth birthday.

The small treasure chest in his arms shook as he put the small key into the lock and turned. Click.

He flipped the chest open and there lay... a pair of mustard yellow gloves.

No. It couldn’t be.

Ethan’s grandpa had been a supervillain. Suddenly his father’s reluctance to give him the chest made sense. His old man had been jealous, jealous that grandpa trusted Ethan more than his own son.

But Ethan barely cared. He picked the gloves up.

He quickly wiped away his tears and pulled them on. His grandfather’s legacy wouldn’t be forgotten.

Roman stared at his parents in disbelief. They couldn’t be serious. His eyes trailed upwards towards his parents’ eyes. They looked serious...

“You were superheros?”, he asked in awe.

“Well, your mother was.”, his father quickly answered. His mother chuckled, still holding out the small treasure chest.

“Yeah. But it’s your sxteenth birthday. You’re ready to take over the mantle.”

With wide eyes, Roman snatched the chest and cradled it close to himself. He excitedly began jumping in place. “I can’t wait to tell Remus!”

He was just about to leave, when his mother reached out and grabbed his wrist. “Wait, Roman.”

“Huh?”, he turned around, confused. “What is it?”

“You can’t tell Remus about this.”

“Why not?”

“It’s too dangerous.”

Roman gulped. He guessed that made sense. It was the same in all the superhero stories. Don’t tell your loved ones to keep them save.

“...okay.”

They finally let Roman leave to change for the first time. Unsure of where to go, Roman stepped inside the upstairs bathroom. He locked the door, before opening the chest. A blood red sash rested inside.

He took it out. His hands shook from excitement as he put it on.

Remus could feel something inside him die. He pressed his back against the hallway wall.

He’d known people preferred his brother over him, they weren’t as subtle as they liked to think. Yet, of his parents he’d thought better. The idea that parents weren’t supposed to pick favorites had stuck deep in his soul.

Now he knew. His parents liked Roman more than they liked Remus. If they even liked him at all.

With a harsh gesture he rubbed the tears off his face.

Steps walked towards the door, towards the hallway. Fear spiked through Remus and he sprinted towards the door to the attic. It was conveniently placed right across from his parents’ bedroom.

The door wasn’t locked.

He ran up the stairs and pushed open another door.

Behind it lay the attic, Remus’ favortie room in the entire house.

Clutter littered the room, barely leaving enough room to walk.

Remus sunk to his knees, hands coming to wipe away more tears furiously. This was stupid. He was used to Roman being treated better than him, why did it even still bother him?!

A voice cut through the storm in his head, easily settling it. Confused, he looked up. Where had the voice come from?

Remus got to his feet, looking around. Again the voice was heard.

The boy followed it, expertly making his way through the room. He sank to his knees again, next to a small treasure chest in the far back of the room.

He’d never seen it before. The voice was definitely coming from inside.

It looked like a pirate’s treasure chest, with all the tentacles carved into the white framework. Remus idly wondered if the framework had been carved from the remains of a pirate crew; murdered and eaten by the captain so he could bury his treasure chest without anyone knowing where. So nobody would steal his treasure.

He carefully tried to lift the top, but the chest was locked.

Even after looking around, Remus couldn’t find the key. With a defeated sigh, Remus sat down.

Click.

What the f-

Remus pulled on the chest’s top and it opened.

Inside rested the most beautiful morning star Remus had ever seen. A grin spread across his face as he reached out for the object.

Oh, his parents were going to pay.

His hands wrapped around the morning star’s handle.

“Mom? Have you seen my tie?”

Logan leaned heavily against the hallway wall as he shouted down the stairs. He tried his best, but he felt horrible. His chest burned with even more, terrifying emotions. He was lightly trembling.

“No, sweetie, I’m sorry. I think there’s one in the storage room?”

“I’ll go look.”

Logan forced hismelf to turn around. Even though he wanted to close his eyes and not face what lay before him, he knew it wasstupid and kept them open.

This was dumb, he told himself. Feelings sucked. Emotions were useless and painful.

He quickly wiped away his tears and trudged past his sister’s bedroom.

The storage room was stuffed to the brim with things. Any kind of things.

He rummaged through it, making his way to the back of the room.

In one of the boxes, he actually found a tie. A blue tie with lighter stripes. With it in hand, he made his way back to his room to put it on.

Virgil pressed both his hands against his ears as hard as he could. He didn’t want to hear his mother’s angry shouts, but she was just so, so loud.

Tears leaked from his eyes and he pulled his legs closer to his chest. His lungs felt as though they were constricting, choking him. He could barely breathe anymore.

It wasn’t his mother’s fault, he told himself, because his father had said so, his father would never lie to him- he’d said that his mother felt bad about the yelling, that she didn’t mean to-

A voice cut through his thoughts and settled the storm in his mind.

Confused, he looked up.

The voice spoke up again. Virgil stood up, his legs lightly shaking.

A loud thump from the door made him jump in fear. He pressed a hand on his heart, trying to calm himself.

His mother couldn’t break down the door, she hadn’t managed to do it before, she wouldn’t be able to now.

...

right?

As soon as he was at the closet, he pulled it open. The voice came fro mthe back of it.

Virgil pushed through his clothes and found a few boxes. He knew these boxes.

They belonged to his biological father, who had died far before Virgil was old enough to remember. A voice talked from one of the boxes.

He sunk to his knees and started looking through the box. There was a small treasure chest at the bottom. The source of the voice.

Virgil pulled it out. He tried opening it, but it was locked. He set it down before him, unsure of what to do.

Click.

His hands shook when he opened the chest. A hoodie rested inside.

It was absolutely his style and Virgil pulled it out. He quickly put it on, feeling much better with the heavy fabric covering his bare arms.

Patton entered the house and instantly felt some dread pool in his stomach. His mother was using the treadmill, he could hear it, all the way from upstairs.

That meant she’d been upset again.

He quickly left his school bag in his room and made his way to Virgil’s. School had ended for his step-brother earlier, so he must have taken the brunt of it.

“Virgil...?”, Patton pushed open the door to his room.

It’s empty.

Virgil isn’t there. Which meant he had gone for a walk to calm himself down.

That was... good, Patton thought as he pulled out his phone.

Hey Virge, u okay?

He pocketed the phone again and was about to turn away, when he sees the wide open closet.

Patton knew Virgil hated leaving the closet doors open. He didn’t like when other people could see his clothing.

Hesitantly, Patton crossed the room to close the closet.

His eyes gravitated towards a small treasure chest in a box in the back. He fell to his knees and pulled it towards himself. He didn’t quite know why, but something about this chest felt like it belonged to him.

The chest didn’t open. Of course it didn’t, it belonged to Virgil.

Patton wanted to push the chest away from himself. But he found a key.

His hands shook as he put it into the lock and turned.

Click.

Inside the chest lay a cat hoodie. This wasn’t Virgil’s style at all.

So it was okay to take it, right?

Patton pulled the hoodie out. He didn’t want to put it on. It wasn’t his!

He wanted to put it back where he found it, but the hoodie felt so right in his hands-

“Patton?”

His mother had calmed down. Patton quickly tied the hoodie around his shoulders.

“’Sup, babes.”

Deceit whirled around when he heard the voice. It was unfamiliar. Definitely didn’t belong to the Duke.

What he found was a person holding a starbucks cup. Sunglasses covered their eyes and they were wearing a leather jacket.

“What’cha doing?”

The person strolled past Deceit.

“Who are you?!”, Deceit asked. The other person turned towards him, slight confusion etched in their face.

“What are you talking about, babes? It’s me, Remy.”

“I don’t know you.”, Deceit snapped. “How did you get in here?”

‘Remy’ leaned forward, nose almost touching Deceit’s. “Hmmm. You know, I don’t know you either, babes. What’s your name anyway? Pronouns? Call me Sleep, he/him.”

Sleep held out one hand towards Deceit. The snake considered it. Then he took the offered hand. “Deceit. He/him.”

“Babes, I brought Starbucks!”

The Prince whirled around, sword appearing in his hand. Dad jumped, quickly stepping behind Logic. Logic adjusted his glasses, irritation flitting across his face. The Spiderling almost fell off the shelf he was perched on.

“Who are you?!”, the Prince asked, loudly.

The stranger sighed in annoyance as he sauntered inside. “Ah, great, so you babes decided to hand over your mantle too. I’m Sleep, he/him.”

Sleep put all the Starbuck’s cups down, except one, from which he took a long sip.

#Sanders Sides #Superheros #Sanders Sides Superhero AU #Deceit Sanders #Roman Sanders #Logan Sanders #Virgil Sanders #Remus Sanders #Sleep Sanders #Patton Sanders #Alternate Universe #Art #Fanart

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jeonsduck · 4 years

Text

Smoke and Mirrors pt 4

WARNINGS: gore, graphic imagery.

a/n: im so sorry

Since getting permission from your new supervisor to work in San’s office, you’d fallen into a bit of a routine. You woke up, got ready, fed Noodles, and San picked you up from your building because it was on his way to work. On some mornings he’d come upstairs instead of calling yo he got there, bearing gifts of a breakfast sandwich (for you) and canned tuna (for Noodles). By now, your elder landlady recognized San and he blew her a kiss when he picked you up in the mornings.

When you arrived at the office, you’d hole yourself up in the file room until lunch. Keran or San would occasionally come by to check on you and bring you a little styrofoam cup off coffee and remind you to take a break. Sometimes Byul would break in and walk all over your papers and laptop keyboard until you scratched her behind her ears.

At 11:45, San would slip a leash on Byul and the three of you would go on a walk to pick up lunch for the whole office. You all ate in the front room, Keran and the bodyguards included. This was of course, if San didn’t have a lunch meeting, which you were learning were reserved only for his most important clients (read: Hongjoong and company). You caught glimpses of them when they came to see San, but you had yet to be introduced to any of them. You were thankful for that because just from what you’d heard about them from Agent Heejin they were men to be feared and taken very seriously.

After lunch it was back to the dungeon to try and make sense of what the hell San’s friends were doing with their money.

If he wasn’t too busy in the afternoons he might pop in and help explain something to you. As the person who oversaw all these transactions, he was your best bet at explaining some of their more convoluted financial practices. Like Jongho claiming farm exemptions on his martial arts school. Except it WAS a farm, and a school, and apparently Jongho was very dedicated to the fact that his students live seperated from society to focus on their sport or something like that. Either way it was a really complicated way of saying, yes, his 35 acres are eligible for educational and agricultural exemptions. There were at least 5 cases like this for each of them, and your head was pounding from the explanations. The information dump you were going through on this case was worse than college.

San drove you home after he locked up for the night, or if he was staying late, he’d send you home in a car with the guards. After you’d started at ledgers until your eyes burned, you had to go talk to Agent Heejin. Sometimes she called you, other times she visited your apartment. You’d talk for as long as she deemed necessary, sometimes for upwards of two hours. Occasionally, you had something suspicious to report, but it was a rare occurrence. Usually you ended up chasing the same half a million dollars around in circles for the whole day across different accounts until there was no where else for you to follow it. It was exhausting. And so far, there was nothing groundbreaking to report, which meant you just got to spend a couple extra hours being grilled every night.

Fun daily routine, right? Not in the slightest.

Well, that wasn’t completely true. It was a little fun. Especially when you saw San dressed like a trainwreck with his glasses off, frowning down at a stack of papers. Or when you caught him looking at you from the doorway with a pencil held behind his ear. Or when he rolled his shirt sleeves up so he could go get you a document you couldn’t find. Or when he smiled at you in the cutest way, or well, any time San was being cute. Was that kinda super unprofessional? Yeah, but you’d be done with this case eventually and maybe after that something could happen? It wasn’t as though it was completely one sided. Someone didn’t just start picking you up and taking you to work just because you lived in the same direction. And you’d heard the guards gossiping around the water cooler about how they could never convince their boss to let them choose what to eat for lunch, but he always asked you before making a decision nowadays. And then there was that time you‘d turned your head too fast when he was leaning over your shoulder, and you’d both been trapped in that moment with your noses nearly touching for way too long. San had finally blinked and cleared his throat and you’d both awkwardly avoided each other’s eyes for the next hour.

Your mildly flirty and mostly boring routine was broken when your new supervisor asked you to come in for a status report. San dropped you back off at your office, and told you to call him once you were done so he could send a car to take you home, since you’d left yours at your apartment. You went back up to your floor for the first time in weeks, and made an hour long presentation on your progress with this case (which was miniscule to say the least). Your boss thanked you for the update, told you you were doing a good job, and let you know he’d be sending the notes you presented to the administration.

After you left his office, you stopped by your cubicle to tidy something’s up, grab some extra supplies you needed,

“Y/N! How’s it going?” Jacob said, catching you on your way out.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen him, and you gave him a hug. You had missed your cubicle neighbor.

“Slowly. I don’t know if I’ll ever be done with this case.” you sighed.

Jacob chuckled and patted you on the back.

“You got some time? We could grab dinner, maybe a couple drinks?” he offered.

You checked your phone for messages from San, only to find that it was dead. Ah, might as well.

“Yeah I could do dinner. You had somewhere in mind?”

Dinner with Jacob was…. Nice. You didn’t realize until halfway through the meal that maybe Jacob thought this was a date. But you still weren’t sure. You were sure that Jacob was more than a little nervous, stuttering over a lot of his sentences and fidgeting. But he wasn’t overbearing or making you uncomfortable. He was nice. Jacob was nice.

He drove you home after the meal, walking you to the front door of your building. You told him you had a nice time. He smiled at you and said the same. Then he awkwardly scooted back into his car and drove away.

You headed up to your apartment, putting your phone on charge the second you got in. You fed Noodles, got ready for bed, and put on some TV to watch before you went to bed. When your phone turned on it started buzzing wildly, startling Noodles.

“Who was calling me like that?” you wondered out loud.

Flipping your phone back over, you saw you had 50 text messages, 34 missed calls, and multiple voicemails. All from San. Begining from the time you were supposed to call him, the messages increased in frequency and worry even through your dinner with Jacob. Your phone buzzed to life again suddenly, San’s name and picture flashing on your screen.

“Hello?” you answered.

“Oh, my god Y/N! I thought you were dead in an alley somewhere or something! You were supposed to call me when you finished at the IRS. ” San said, sounding relieved.

“Oh gosh, I didn’t mean to worry you. My phone died and then I went to dinner with my work friend Jacob. Besides, I told you, I could Uber home or something.” you said.

“Yeah, but you would have at least answered my call from an Uber. I didn’t know what had happened to you.” he huffed.

“Well, I’m fine and I’m sorry for worrying you. I’ll buy you lunch tomorrow to make up for it.” you offered.

“Fine. But letting your phone die can be dangerous. What if something happens and you can’t call me?” he says.

“Shouldn’t I be calling the police if I��m in danger?” you counter with a chuckle, but San is serious.

“No, you should call me. So, promise me you won’t let your phone die, and you’ll answer me when I call.” he says.

You sigh and agree.

“Fine, I’ll watch my phone battery and I will always pick up if you call. Are we cool now?” you ask.

San chuckles, “We are, but you still owe me lunch tomorrow.” he says.

“Of course. Good night San.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

You shake your head and look at Noodles.

“He’s such a character isn’t he?” you ask him, and Noodles just meows in response.

You chuckle and turn the TV off, falling asleep.

The next day it’s back to the same grind. It’s like that for most of the week. On Thursday you get an email from your supervisor, asking if you know where Jacob’s gone. You reply that you don’t know, but you’ll reach out to him. When you call him after lunch, Jacob’s phone goes straight to voicemail. Weird, but you’ve got a lot on your plate right now, so you’re not really worried about it.

You see Jacob again on Saturday, but not in the way you were expecting, or ever wanted to see him. You got a call from the police station early that morning, asking you to come in about something. You thought it had something to do with San or the case you were working with the IRS. You never thought that they’d be calling you down to help identify Jacob’s waterlogged corpse.

It wasn’t a pretty sight. Whoever had done this, had been angry and well versed in the art of murder. His right hand was broken, shattered more like. So were both of his legs, one at the femur, one at the shin. He’d been garroted, a sharp wire choking him and cutting into his neck until he either asphyxiated or bled to death, whichever came first. That the coroner wasn’t quite sure of. What they were sure of, was that Jacob’s body had been beaten and mutilated before he’d been killed. His heart had been carved out of his chest cavity after the fact though. They’d found the charred remains in his car, which had been pushed deep into the woods and set on fire. Jacob’s body had been found in a lake not far from there, only because the killer had messed up when puncturing his lungs to prevent his body from floating.

You didn’t process this all at once though. You’d walked into the morgue, noted the awful smell, and the coroner had asked you to peel back the white sheet. You had, and nearly fell over in shock. That was your friend on the table. You stumbled back a couple steps, your ears ringing. You faintly heard the officer who had walked you here asking if that was Jacob on the table, and you nodded absently. You’d been handed a file on Jacob’s autopsy and then ushered out of the room by the officer who brought you there. You stumbled along like you were in a dream, not realizing that the cop was leading you to an interrogation room.

“We have reason to believe you were the last person to see Jacob alive, so we have a few questions for you…”

You sat there, shell shocked and more than a little traumatized, while the police questioned you for hours about the last time you saw Jacob. Nervous, but happy. A little excited, like an overgrown puppy. Different officers came to ask you the same questions, and you knew what they were doing. Trying to get you to crack, to admit something that didn’t happen, to find some flaw in your relationship, and easy out, a motive. But after you’d sobbed for three hours, you were too tired to even keep crying, and eventually they released you, emotionally numb and exhausted.

The sun was still shining outside the precinct, like the day had the right to be happy. You looked at your car, unwilling to drive, and on impulse, you called San.

Y/N?”

“Yeah, San can you come pick me up? I’m at the police station, I don’t think I should drive.” you said.

“What? Why are you at the police station? I’ll be there soon just hold on.” he said.

“Okay.” you sighed and hung up. You sat down on a bench outside, and after a few minutes, it began to sun shower. You snorted, but just sat there, getting soaked as other people ran around you for cover. You only realized San had pulled up when the rain stopped and you heard him fussing over you.

“You’re gonna catch a cold, sitting out in the rain like this. Come get in the car.”

You let San basically manhandle you into his car, realizing that you were about to get in his expensive Italian sports car sopping wet.

“Sorry, send me you upholstery bill.”

“One, no. Two, you can’t afford it. Three, the leather was getting kinda worn anyway. Do you want to tell me why you were at the police station?” he prompted.

You just shook your head, gazing out the window.

“Later. Just take me home please.”

You zone out as San drives, watching raindrops slide down the car window.

“Y/N, we’re here.” San said, snapping you out of a daze.

“Will you come up with me? I don’t want to be alone right now.” you ask.

“Of course.”

San parks his car in your spot, and follows you up to your apartment. Noodles comes trotting out when you open the door, avoiding you when he sees that you’re wet and rubbing uo against San instead.

“Go take a shower, put on some dry clothes. Should I order food?” San asks, scooping Noodles up in his arms.

You don’t want to eat, but you say yes anyway. You leave San to his own devices in the living room and go to take a shower. Maybe you’re crying again, but there’s no way to be sure. You end up standing under the hot water for nearly an hour. When the food he ordered arrives, San knocks on your bathroom door, letting you know that you should get out and eat while the food is hot.

You towel off and get dressed in pajamas, trudging back out to the kitchen, San is sitting at your island with a large pizza in front of him. You sit down next to him and take a slice, chewing slowly. It’s good pizza. You say as much. When you finish, San puts away the box and stands infront of you, cupping your face in his hands.

“Do you want to keep processing, or do you want me to distract you?” he asks, looking into your eyes.

You answer without even thinking, wanting to stop feeling so awful.

“Distract me, please.”

San smiles sadly, bringing your faces together and connecting your lips gently. You’re trembling a little, and San feels solid and real pressed against you.

“I’m sorry.” he says.

“It’s not your fault.” you mumble.

San doesn’t reply, just kisses you again, and again, and again.

#ateez #san #ateez san #choi san #choi san x reader #ateez x reader #san x reader #san fanfic #san imagines #san scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines

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stupidheadwithablog · 4 years

Text

Robin Hood Chapter One

The area around my left eye was sore and it was starting to swell shut thanks to me getting punched there. I’d just beaten the crap out of some guy a year older than I am in the local library who thought it was a good idea to called me a selfish bitch simply because he somehow managed to found out that I’m still a virgin. Okay, technically it was my own fault that he’d found that out, but it’s not my fault his dumb self didn’t know the correct meaning of what a virgin is! Not only that, once I told him what it meant he said that it should be illegal for females over fourteen to be one! What the fuck!?!

Anyways, I’m sixteen, so I’m not even worried about still being a virgin. No one my age should, in my opinion. I told him that too, and that jerk said how his own father taught him how females are only good for being in the bed or in the kitchen.

I kind of feel bad for him, being brainwashed to believe those majorly outdated ideas by his own father. I feel bad for his mom too, if she’s still even with his father. I sure hope she isn’t still with a jerk like that.

It made me megapissed when he tried to force himself on me after insulting me for my opinions, so the way I see it is that I had no other choice but to beat him up for trying that shit on me.

I’d gotten banned from the library for a month while he’d gotten kicked out for life. It sucks for him since I’d seen him in there a bunch, but he really should have know better than to try something like that in a public area.

It would have been a lifetime for the both of us, but thankfully for me, my brother had the smart idea to record the whole fight on his phone. It was proof that I didn’t start it and was only fighting back as self defense, seeing as how I didn’t start fighting until after he’d pressed his lips on mine. I feel gross thinking about it. I thank whatever powerful force out there that’s keeping this planet together for planting the idea of phones having cameras into someone’s head.

The lower part of my left arm is a bit sore along with my eye, and there was a hand mark there thanks to him grabbing my arm there really tight when he’d forced his mouth on mine. My knee is sore too from when I’d kneed him in the privates after he forced me to kiss him and my knuckles are pretty sore and two of them on each hand are starting to bleed from all the times I’d punched him. I’d definitely need some icepacks and bandages once I got back to my foster home.

“Robin, you’re not hurt too bad, are you?” My brother asked, ever the worrier he is.

“He managed to get a few good hits in, but nothing bad enough that I’d need to see a doctor, so you don’t need to worry about me.” I told him, pulling my hair out of my face and back into a wolf tail with one of the hair ties I tend to keep on my wrist.

It would have been a ponytail, except for the fact that I shaved the hair off of the back and sides of my head almost a week ago, leaving my red hair only on the top of my head, reaching just below my shoulders.

“Do you want to get it iced?”

“Not right now. Can I have her back now?” I asked my brother, gesturing to my beat up black and dark green backpack.

“Here you go.” He said, carefully passing the bag over to me. Opening it up, I looked at the tiny black and white dog that, at this point, was more gray than anything.

“You’re a good girl, you know that? You stayed quiet the whole time we were in the library!” I told her, playfully moving her ears around for a bit before scratching her behind them. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a zip lock bag that I used to keep dog treats for her. I let out a sigh when I saw that there was only a few left. That wouldn’t last very long with how much the tiny dog tended to eat.

“This is one of the last few, but you deserve it.” I said, handing her the treat that looked like a tiny hotdog in a hotdog bun.

My brother Jonathan and I have lived in foster care ever since our parents died when we were little. I’m the older one out of the two of us. With the two of us constantly being passed around from one foster home to another, the two of us quickly realized that the only ones we could rely on always being there no matter what were each other.

Then there’s my dog, Ellie. She’s a mix of multiple breeds of dogs and the only one I’m able to recognize is Papillion thanks to those butterfly ears of hers that look like they’re flapping every time she jumps or I go to toss her on my bed.

My mom gave her to me as my fifth birthday present when she was already two years old. She’s thirteen now, which saddens me whenever I think about it because I had to take her to the vet a few months ago to get her shots updated and they said that they only expect her to only live at least one more year, two if we’re lucky.

“Hey, since it’s nice out and we’re not really expected back for a couple more hours, how would you feel if we were to go to that pizzeria down the street?” I asked my brother, walking backwards after jumping in front of his path so I could face him while talking. If there was a car driving on any of the roads we had to walk across, he would let me know.

“The pizza there is super greasy and expensive. Also, you didn’t have any money last time I checked.” He said, stopping at a street corner. If we walked straight according to the direction he was facing it would eventually lead us back to the foster house we were staying at. However, if we went left, according to the direction I’m facing, right according to the direction he was facing, it would quickly take us to the pizzeria.

“Hey, I actually like greasy pizza! Besides, you and I both know that there’s barely anything in the kitchen back home and I’m hungry. Also, what makes you think I don’t have any money?” I asked him, holding up the two fifty dollar bills I managed to slip out of the jerk’s pockets during the fight. When I referred to the foster home as home, I didn’t mean it. It was a fact I didn’t have to say out loud because of him being fully aware of that. After all, he felt the same way about that place. “You know what? If it makes you feel any better, I’ll ask the workers there if I can have some ice to put on my eye. Does that make you feel any better?”

“You and your sticky fingers.” Jonathan said laughing, turning towards his right.

“Crappy pizza, here we come!” I said, laughing as well.

~~~~~

“Wait, so he took the sister instead?” I heard a familiar voice say, walking into the pizzeria. I tried to ignore what he said and instead, I tore off a piece of crust from the first slice of pizza I had so I could feed it to my tiny mix breed dog that I had managed to smuggle into the pizza shop by keeping her in my backpack. I twirled my finger in the air around her muzzle before poking her on the nose when she gave me a look that I recognized as her wanting more.

“Yep. Apparently she wasn’t as attractive, but she made sure to make it up to him, if you know what I mean.” I heard a second familiar voice say. I was unable to place a face with the voices, so I found myself turning around to figure out who they were.

“Oh, dear god.” I said, pulling the hood from my jacket up while turning back around.

“Rob, what is it?” My brother said around the mouthful of his pepperoni pizza.

“You see the two boys that just walked in? The blonde is the one that kicked me out of the seat and told me to go jump off a bridge because no one likes me after I had a super crappy day at school, and the brunette is the one that started to spread rumors around the school that I’m his baby mama and sell myself super cheep.” I told him, trying to stretch my hood further over my face.

“They’re the ones that did that to you? They can’t do that to you and get away with it. I’m going to go beat them up.” Jonathan said, placing down his pizza before attempting to slide out of the booth we were sitting in.

“Don’t you dare, Little John. You don’t even come close to swinging a proper punch and I’m not about to risk both of us getting kicked out of a building in the same day.” I said, moving my leg so it blocked him from sliding out any further by placing my foot against the back of the bench he was sitting on.

Little John was originally our parents nickname for him thanks to him being named after our father. With both of them gone, I try to use it whenever I see the chance. Most of the time, that’s times like this when I need him to calm down.

“Thank you. Now just finish your pizza and root beer so we can get out of here.” I said, placing my foot back on the floor and taking a bite out of my mushroom and chicken pizza when he slid back to his seat. “Chances are that they might not even notice me anyway. Hardly anyone ever pays attention to me anyway, you know that.”

“Yeah, I know that. Doesn’t mean I think it’s right. You’re one of the most caring people I know. People should be able to realize that you exist.”

“Hey, I’m notas nice as you like to make me out to be. If I don’t like someone, I like to make sure they know it and I get into fights a lot because of that.” I told him, acting like he’d managed to insult me.

“I said that you’re caring, meaning that you tend to help people out whenever you can, even if they’re not fully on your good side. Like when you were in fifth grade and ran to get the school nurse when Lillian Merlin fell off the swings and landed on her arm even though she liked to trip you every time you walked past her.”

“Boy, she didn’t just fall off the swings and land on her arm! She flew at least ten feet away from the swing set and ended slamming her arm on the ground so hard that it ended up breaking!” I said, reaching for my large cup of sweet ice tea with the intentions of taking a huge gulp.

“Hey Tom, look who’s here!” I heard the blond boy, David say.

“Please tell me they’re not looking in our direction.” I whispered to my brother.

“Sorry. They’re walking our way right now.” He whispered back.

“Screw my luck. Don’t you dare try to step in.” I said, turning to sit so my legs were outside of the booth, getting ready to stand up.

“Hey, lesbo, who’s your girlfriend?” I heard Thomas, the brunette say, actually insulting my brother.

“Well look who it is, Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber.” I said, reaching behind me to make sure I was able to reach my cup of iced tea in case I felt the need to splash it on them as I stood up. “For the record you two, that’s not my girlfriend. He’s my brother.”

“What did you just call us?” Thomas, the brunette said.

“Well, I was originally going to call you two Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, after the two characters from Alice in Wonderland. You know, those two fat twins that fought each other over stuff of theirs that would go missing? You probably don’t since it doesn’t look like the two of you have willingly read a book in your life.” I said, feeling proud at the insulted looks on their faces. That’s exactly what I wanted.

“Then I decided against it, seeing how it would be an insult to two of the characters of my favorite books since they somehow still manage to seem smarter than you. Then I decided that I could call you two Dumb and Dumber instead, after the two main characters in those two movies that came out in the nineteen hundreds, but then I decided against that too since it would be an insult to those two hilarious movies. So instead, I just decided to just mix the two ideas together.” I told them, smirking when I saw Thomas clench his fingers into fists.

“Hey, don’t you two boys start! You’re lucky I let the two of you come back here at all after breaking two tables during the last fight you two had in here!” We heard the owner call out from behind the counter as Thomas reached up to punch me in my already swollen eye.

“By now!” I called after them as they walked out the pizzeria, warning me how they were planning on getting me the next chance they get. The thing that worried me was how they were staring at my bag. I really hope they didn’t notice Ellie. And if they had, I really hoped that they weren’t planning on doing anything to her.

“Dang. That was bold of you to say that to them!” Jonathan said as I sat down.

“Yeah well, when I told you two days ago that I was done taking crap from anyone, I meant it. Now hurry up and finish your food. It’s going to get dark soon and you know how he always wants us all back before the streetlights start turning on.” I said, stuffing the rest of my pizza into my mouth, making sure to save the crust for Ellie, before moving to finish off the rest of my half of the small plate of spaghetti the two of us decided to split. The ‘he’ was referring to our foster father who is a controlling jerk while the ‘us’ was referring to me, my brother, and the other foster kids the jerk was supposed to take care of.

“Crap, you’re right!” He said, stuffing his face as well after checking the time on his phone.

~~~~~

“Johnny, hurry up. The street lights are starting to turn on!” I yelled back to my brother who was a few feet behind me. “Seriously. How are you that much slower than me? I’m running with Ellie in my arms and yet you’re pretty far behind me!”

“Yeah well do you think you could slow down a bit? You know I’ve never been as fast as you!” He said back to me as I was adjusting Ellie in my jacket while running. After the first couple of months of carrying her around like I do, I noticed how it was safer if I had her tucked into my jacket while it was zipped up and held her still in it than if I were to just have her wrapped up in my arms. Less chance of her falling out of my arms that way with the way I tend to run.

“Well, excuse me for not wanting to get in trouble again! I know you’re fully aware of what happened last time I got in trouble with him!” I called back to him, stopping at the next street corner so I could wait for him to catch up with me.

I reallyreallydidn’t want to get in trouble with our foster father again. The last time I missed the sunset curfew was during the school’s spring break. He’d ended up locking me up in my room until school the break was over with no food, water, or bathroom privileges. He could easily do that too, since my bedroom door handle locks from the hallway and there’s no way to lock or unlock the handle from inside the bedroom. I couldn’t see myself surviving that week if it weren’t for the fact that my brother had been willing to get in trouble himself in order to sneak in sandwiches to me via my bedroom window. Our foster father is also the reason why I have a tendency to carry my little mutt with me everywhere I go. I don’t think I would be able to take it very well if anything were to happened to her.

“Jay look, something’s going on.” I said, noticing some red and blue flashing lights coming from what looked like our street. Noticing that we stopped, Ellie popped her head out of the opening of my jacket and started barking at the police lights. She knew that for me and my brother, police lights meant nothing but bad news, so she tended to not be a fan of them because of that. I was just glad that they didn’t have their sirens on, with how they tend to hurt Ellie’s ears.

“Hush, Ells.” I said, handing her a small piece of pizza crust from the zip lock bag full of crust pieces I had in one of my jacket pockets. Thankfully, she accepted the food and stopped barking. The little glutton will do whatever I want as long as I give her a bit of food after telling her what I want her to do. Unless it’s tricks. I never did manage to teach her any.

“Sir, you’re under arrest for neglecting to take care of minors placed under your care. Anything you say or do can and will be used against you in the court of law.” At that, me and my brother took one look at each other before taking off towards the lights, hoping that the police would be reading the rights to the person we hoped they were.

It was exactly who we thought it was. Our foster father. Looks like we would be moving to another home, again. At this point, I’d completely lost count of how many different places we’ve been moved to.

With my arms getting tired from how long I’d been carrying her, I quickly but carefully placed Ellie back into my backpack.

“Miss, my brother and I are two of the foster kids he was put in charge of. Is it okay if we go inside to grab our stuff real quick?” I asked one of the female cops.

“We have the names of the foster kids he should have been taking care of. Just tell me you and your brother’s names and if I see them, you can go in.” She said.

“Robin Marie Woodson and Jonathan Daniel Woodson.” I heard my brother say from behind me. This is the fifth time we’ve seen a situation like this with all the different foster homes we’ve been placed in.

“Jonathan, you can go in. I just need to ask your sister something real quick.” She said after finding our names.

“It says here that you have a dog, yet we didn’t see any dog when we went inside. Do you know why that is?”

“Yes I do mam. She was almost killed by the foster parents me and my brother got stuck with in our first home, so I’ve been carrying her around with me everywhere I go ever since. The day they almost killed her was also the same day they hospitalized my brother. He was seven at the time and I was the one to call the cops on them. Chances are that you might be able to find that I’ve been the one to call the cops on multiple foster homes we’ve gotten stuck in and that with almost every time, you blues have found what I’ve said to be true. The other times were the times the fosters managed to hide whatever it was I was reporting.” I told her, I was trying to be polite to her, but that didn’t stop a rude tone from entering my voice near the end.

“Now if you don’t have any more questions, I better go pack my stuff.” I said walking away.

‘I wasn’t the one to report him this time, so who did?’ I thought, walking towards what’s now no longer my room. ‘Probably doesn’t really matter.’

Once I got to the room, I closed the door and placed down my backpack and placed it down with the zipper open so Ellie could walk around the room while I was packing. After making sure she managed to get out by herself, I walked over to my closet and pulled out the duffle bag I had shoved on the top shelf and tossed onto my bed, which was really just a pillow and a torn, falling apart blanket on top of an even more beat up mattress.

Hearing the mostly empty bag slam onto the bed, Ellie jumped out of fright and turned in the direction she heard the noise come from. I laughed when her ears managed to perk up even more than they already were after spotting the duffle bag as she ran over and started rubbing her sides all over the bag before wiggling all over the bed and floor. I knew from watching how she behaves over the years that her doing that meant she hated it here and was glad that we were leaving. I was glad I wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

I heard someone walking towards the bedroom door as I finally managed to start pulling my clothes off some of the hangers.

“Need some help?” I heard my brother ask, opening the door. It was sort of a tradition we had where if one of us were to finish packing first we would always go and help the other finish packing after.

“Are you kidding me? I just started getting my clothes out. Of course I need help!” I said as he walked in, closing the door behind him.

“You were getting distracted by Ellie again, weren’t you?” He asked, taking some of the clothes out of my arms.

“Maaaybe.” I said, slightly embarrassed. He just laughed as he started to help me put my clothes away. Like it when I’m able to get him laughing by even the smallest, dumbest things I do. It helps me remember that no matter how crappy our situation might become in the next house, or how bad it might have seemed in the previous places, that it’s always possible for us to find ways to be happy.

~~~~~

“This is the last house I could find in the area that was willing to take in both you two and the dog. You two mess this up and I’ll either end up having to separate you two from each other or finding that little Ellie of yours a new home.” Our social worker, Jasmine Agreste said. She’d been working with us since the beginning.

“We understand, Mrs. A.” I said. I knew for a fact that she was married and had a daughter a few years younger than me from the time me and Jonathan ended up staying in her house for a few months thanks to there being no homes at all available at the time. I was actually on sort of friendly terms with her daughter, who on one occasion admitted that she sees me like an older sister.

I don’t know how I feel about her or her mom though. It’s been hard for me to trust people other than my brother. I guess I could consider us friends.

“So, what could you tell us about the person we’re staying with this time?” Jonathan asked.

“She had biological kids of her own, a son and daughter, who both ended up moving out a few months ago. She had apparently grown up in foster care herself. She just recently got approved, so the two of you are going to be the first kids she takes in.”

“Well this should be interesting.” Me and Jonathan said at the same time.

~~~~~

The house the lady lived in looked to me almost like a more welcoming version of the house the Addams Family owned in the black and white TV show. It was only a couple of miles away from the place we were now leaving, so we would still be able to go to the same schools once they opened back up once summer break was over.

“Evelyn Blanchard? These are Robin and Jonathan Woodson, the two siblings you agreed to take in.” I heard Jasmine say to some lady with graying brown hair that answered the door.

“Well in that case, welcome you two. Now, come on in you three!” I heard Evelyn, the lady that was apparently mine and Jonathan’s new foster parent say. We may be sixteen and fourteen, but that didn’t stop Jonathan from grabbing ahold of my hand with how nervous he was. Normally from what we’ve seen, if someone acts super cheery like she currently is when we first arrive then chances are that they’re hiding their real self.

“I give it a week.” I whispered into his ear, stating how long I thought it would be until she quit her act.

“I say two.”

“Now, Robin. I heard you have a dog?” Evelyn asked, heading for the direction I guessed might have been the kitchen.

“That’s correct.” I said, refusing to move from near the front door. It looked as if the whole place had been cleaned recently. I was well aware of how the bottom of my boots were covered in mud and possibly even some animal crap. I didn’t want to risk angering her if I accidentally got it all over her carpet and I didn’t feel comfortable enough to take my shoes off either. Looking over at Jonathan out of the corner of my eye, I could tell that he had the same idea with how he kept looking around nervously. It may have looked similar to the Addams Family’s house on the outside, but it looked almost nothing like it on the inside.

“Where is it?” She asked, sounding actually curious.

“She’s in my backpack. I rarely ever let her leave my side.” I said, hoping that she would be able to hear just how protective I am over Ellie.

“You can let her out of there if you’d like.” She said, coming out of the kitchen with a plate full of sandwiches that she’d placed on the coffee table before sitting on one of the two couches. I knew that Ellie wouldn’t go anywhere if it meant me being out of her site and there’s no way her paws should be dirty enough to track around any dirt, so I carefully placed my bag down onto the floor and lifted her out. To the surprise of both me and my brother, Ellie walked right over to Evelyn and didn’t growl or try to bite her ankles.

“Aww. She’s so sweet!” Evelyn said as Ellie kissed her hands a couple times before laying under the coffee table and going to sleep. Jonathan, noticing this, let go of my hand.

‘If Ellie trusted her then I guess I could learn to trust her too.’ I thought.

“Is it okay if I go grab our stuff out of the car?” I asked.

“Well, since you’r going to be staying here, I don’t see why not. Would you like any help?” Evelyn said.

“There’s not that much, my brother’s all the help I need.” I said, heading out the door. I could tell that Ellie woke up from her attempt at taking a nap as soon as I left the house because I could hear her barking even after Jonathan closed the door.

“I’m guessing you trust her?” He asked after we reached the car.

“What makes you think that?” I asked, opening up the trunk after hearing Jasmine pop it open for us.

“You were willing to let Ellie stay sleeping in there with her. That’s the first time you’ve done that.”

“I don’t trust her. Not yet anyways, but Ellie seems to like her and that’s enough for me.” I said, passing him his duffle bag before grabbing my bag and the small foam steps Ellie needed during the times my bed was more than just a mattress on the floor, and closing the trunk. Luckily, or unluckily depending on how you looked at it, the only shoes we had were the ones on our feet. I liked to look at the bright side and remind myself that it just meant that much less things we would have to worry about.

“You ready to go back in?” I asked him.

“Not really. Could you let them know I’ll be sitting out here for a bit?” He asked, handing his bag back over to me.

“Sure thing.” I said, grabbing it from him. As I’d expected, Evelyn asked where my brother was as soon as she saw me walk through the door as Ellie started running her slow circles at my feet, barking at me to let me know how mad she was at leaving without her.

“He said he’s going to stay out there for a bit.” I said, placing our bags and Ellie’s steps down on the couch she wasn’t sitting on before taking my shoes off. It still didn’t feel right taking them off here, but it was better than tracking dirt everywhere. “Is it alright if I use the bathroom?”

“Sure thing. Go up the stairs, take a left, then it’s the first door on the right.”

Seeing how Ellie was following me as I headed towards the steps, I picked her up and carried her the whole trip up before placing her on the floor for the second level. I then had to wait for her to walk into the bathroom before I closed the door. If I didn’t then she would sit outside it and howl the whole time.

As I closed the door, I heard Evelyn ask worriedly if Jonathan might have ran off only for Jasmin to explain how he wouldn’t run off without me and I wouldn’t run off without him or my dog.

~~~~~

“The two of you have gone through a lot in your previous homes, haven’t you?” Evelyn asked us not long after Jasmin left. Jonathan had sat next to me on the couch as soon as he’d come in, only taking enough time to take off his shoes and place them next to mine that is.

“Now what would make you think that?” I asked, not bothering to hide the harsh tone in my voice.

“How the two of you tend to drift towards each other like attracting magnets. Not to mention the scars I see on your feet, Robin.” She said, gesturing to my bare feet. Not like I had any socks to cover them. They’d all gotten warn out beyond use a few weeks ago and I hadn’t been able to find the time to make it to the store since then.

“The scars on my feet have nothing to do with anything we may or may not have been put through. Those scars are there because on more than one occasion, I dropped plates and bowls on them thanks to sneezing not long after picking them up.” I said embarrassed because of how it actually was true. She didn’t need to know that I had some scars on my back from the punishments I’d gotten for some of the times that had happened.

“Well, in that case, I think it’s time the two of you see your rooms.”

The room she led me to must have either been her daughter’s or she had repainted it when she heard I was coming, Best way I could quickly describe it was a fantasy princess’s bedroom.

The walls were pale pink with lavender trimming, the carpet dark purple. The bed was a canopy bed with a green curtain and the blankets themselves were a pale blue with ruffles all over the edges.

“I can tell by the look on your face that you don’t like it. We could go to the store tomorrow so you can pick out stuff to redecorate it if you’d like.” She said. It was true. The only thing I could see myself getting use to was the canopy’s curtains because of them being green and because of how they looked like they might be blackout curtains. The carpet wasn’t that bad either, even though I’m not a huge fan of purple.

“The most the two of us have ever been in one place was a month. If we make it past that time, then I might take up your offer.” I said, knowing how I could easily replace the pillowcases with my own and how I could probably go to the store and get some new blankets with the money I’d taken from our previous foster father. Not like he would need it anyway, seeing as how he’s in jail.

“Jonathan, here’s your room.” She said, showing him a room not too far from mine. Well, there was a room in between ours, but I was just glad that it wasn’t on the other side of the house.

After placing down the doggy-steps and making sure Ellie would be able to get up onto the bed with the help, I walked over to the window of the bedroom I would be staying in for who knows how long and looked out. There wasn’t any bit of a roof that me or my brother could walk on to get to each other’s rooms if we’d ever gotten ourselves locked in them. I knew that the two of us would figure something out if that ever happened, so I decided to walk down the hall to see what his room looked like.

His room, to me, definitely looked more like the things he liked than my room with me. The wall was blue with white trimming, a gray carpet, and the bedding was red.

I sat on the bed and waited until Evelyn left before I laid on my back asked him how long he thinks we’d be staying here.

“You should know by know that I don’t like to think about that. “Could you tell me more?” He asked in a way that was somehow both sad and hopeful.

I knew what he wanted me to tell more of. He would always ask to hear about our parents with that tone. In fact, he’d only ever sounded like that when asking me to tell him more about them. I didn’t have that many more memories about our parents than he did, but he didn’t seem to mind. There were even times when the two of us would remember something about one of our parents that the other didn’t.

I decided to tell him how one time our dad decided it was a good idea for just me and him to go on a weekend road trip together, only for us to get a flat tire during the middle of a rain storm he hadn’t known about. It wasn’t funny at the time, but now it is to me, with all the different faces our dad would make each time someone would drive past us. He ended up falling asleep not long before I got to the end of what I could remember from that day, so I managed to carefully climb out of his bed before going back to what was my new room.

It had been a long day for both of us and it was starting to get late anyway.

~~~~~

Prologue | Chapter 2 (in progress)

#Robin Woodson #Jonathan Woodson #Ellie the dog #mentioned abuse #mentioned previous abuse #swearing

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