#it feels almost too personal to use any tags that would broadcast it to anyone who looks up those tags or follows (?) those tags

[doctor-peggy]

I almost forgot!!! Happy marmot day to everyone except this poor guy who does not seem to be enjoying himself. America, your gods are strange and interesting.

Also last year I wrote a poem about him while I was in a depressive haze and it ended up submitting it to a magazine so I did not post it. But! This year I will. Because it’s very silly and I’m proud of it for this reason. Not that I have an audience but I mean you know that’s not the point of tumblr anyhow.

Marmot; A short love letter to Phil

I wonder what he’s thinking when

They lift him up so high

You worship him, your god of spring

He’s just a little guy

He truly is just. A little guy. Thank you to my friend for reminding me that today is Groundhog Day.

[ack3rlady]

The Universe Had His Back - Chapter 5

Sunrise

Summary: The aftermath of the breathtaking encounter between reader and Levi when true feelings are revealed

Chapters: Four | Five | Six

Master List

Warnings: Fem! Reader, Angst, Fluff, Modern AU, Reference to alcohol abuse, slight swearing.

Word Count: ~ 2.5k

Inspiration: Starry Night - Suho

Tags: @sooibian, @queenofcurse, @red-n-tall ; Anyone else who'd like to be tagged, please let me know!

You accepted Levi’s offer to drive you home, a decision you would come to regret the moment the car was in motion. The journey was quiet, with you mostly looking out of the window as he drove. Your greed for more time with him that you didn’t account for how dejected you would go on to feel once the adrenaline dried out. You hadn't exactly ended things with him on amicable terms. The ride home in his company just added salt to the unhealed wounds. Levi turned his head towards you several times like he wanted to say something, but didn't.

“How’s Luna?”, your words finally cut through the silence, voice low and shaky.

“She’s fine. Isabel stayed at home with her today.”, he responded, eyes focused on the road.

Then it was quiet again. It took all the strength to bottle up the multitude of emotions building up within you that were burning to be expressed. So, you decided to focus your attention on the row of lush green trees along the sidewalk, whirring past you.

Levi quelled his desire to lay his hand on yours more than once; intertwining your fingers snugly together while you ran soothing circles on the back of his palm - something he always did while driving with you by his side.

‘Old habits die hard’, he thought. Neither of you uttered a word again till your apartment building was around the corner. You sat glued to your seat, unmoving even after he parked.

“You know that you could just come see her, right? She asks about you every day.”, Levi’s gaze was still fixed on the car parked in front of his own, his voice barely audible.

You sighed, feeling ashamed for depriving your own baby of your presence.

“I’m not ready. What if I can't keep it together in front of her? I need to get better before she sees me.” you despaired, looking down at your feet, too afraid of the effect on Luna if she saw you like this.

“I’m going to be right there with you. And how do you expect to get any better if you deny yourself the exact person who is capable of making you feel so?”, Levi turned in his seat to face you, placing a firm hand on your shoulder.

He was right. Of course, Luna was the only one who could pull you out of this abyss. Why had you been running away from her this whole time?

“C-Can I come see her after work tomorrow?”, you squeaked.

“You don’t have to ask. We’ll both be waiting for you.”, he whispered moving his hand to rest on top of yours.

You finally mustered up the courage to look towards him. He wore the same smile on his face that you had been in love with for the last eight years; the exact one that always assured you that everything was going to be okay.

.

Reader’s POV

You entered your apartment and laid the shopping bags on the counter. Taking off your shoes, you placed them neatly on the rack by the door, taking a little step towards keeping the word you gave Miche this morning. It was late in the evening; the Sun having just set. You glanced around your gloomy apartment, at the dark shadows and how even the brightest colored paints and fabrics looked somber in the dusk’s dullness. The eeriness of the space was starting to eat at you when something shiny on the kitchen platform caught your eye. It was a bottle of whiskey, its amber liquid gleaming in the residual rays of light entering through the window.

The conflict in your head began as you started walking towards it absentmindedly. Was tonight going to be the same as the other wretched ones of the last two weeks? Faces of Luna, Levi, Miche and Nanaba flashed before our eyes as you inched towards the humble kitchenette. Finally at your destination, you picked up the bottle and stared at it, putting up a hard fight against the demons in your head.

You jumped when the door to your apartment suddenly slammed open, making the bottle almost slip out of your hands.

"Sweets!", A loud voice called out to you, the light from the window reflecting off the intruder’s glasses.

It was a moniker given to you by your dear friend based on "your profession and character" as they liked to call it. But the truth was, it was a part of the 'couple name' they had created for you and Levi called 'Short and Sweet', earning them a few punches from the holder of the other half of the title.

“Hange, you almost gave me a heart attack! What are you doing barging into my apartment like this?”, you grumbled.

“Well, your door was unlocked. So, how was your run in with Shorty? Tell me everyth... What the fuck is that?”, they began with excitement, but it dissipated as soon as they switched the lights on and spotted what you held in your hands.

You looked like a thief caught in the act. Guilty.

“It-It's nothing. I wasn’t drinking it.”, you stuttered, hastily putting it away.

“You mean you hadn't started drinking it yet?”

They were probably right. That’s how your evenings usually began these days. You tried your hardest to conquer the need for a drink, only to eventually give in and ending up passed out somewhere in your apartment.

Your train of thought was interrupted by a knock. Miche and Nanaba tiptoed inside through the still unlocked door with guilty smiles, as if ready to turn on their heels in case if you decided to chase after them.

“So? How did it go with Ackermann?”, they asked eagerly in unison.

“Wait. Was my day broadcasted in the news or something? How do you already know?”, your face had a giant question mark stamped on it.

“Who do you think brought it all together?”, Hange grinned, proudly wiggling their eyebrows.

You furrowed yours, and audibly gasped seconds later when it hit you. The sequence of events played before your eyes; how each person you had seen today and led to you meeting Levi. First Miche and Nanaba, then Suki. Your jaw slacked, and you gaped at each one of them in complete disbelief at what they had just pulled off.

Miche quietly slithered to position himself closely beside you and wrapped his arm around your shoulders – a little too tight. Well, you were contemplating introducing their jaws to your fist, so you guessed he was just being cautious.

“Who else knew of this?”, you hissed.

“Not Shorty, if that’s what you’re asking. I cooked up the idea. But it was Erwin who played commander and assigned roles! Everything from you and Levi having the same day off work, Suki and Furlan pestering you two into going with them, Nanaba and Miche forcing you out of here, Isabel staying home with Luna so that Levi could leave, and now us being here to witness the success of our little project, it was brought together by him. In fact, Erwin is checking in on Levi as we speak!”, Hange exclaimed triumphantly.

You felt stupid after finding out that you and Levi got played by practically everyone you knew. How were they this good at keeping it under wraps?

“Why did you do this?” You asked.

“Because you are both too stupid realize how crazy you are about each other and how this estrangement is paining you. So, we just decided to nudge you in the right direction. You’re welcome, by the way!”, Nanaba grinned.

“What are you even talking about? He’s the one who willingly ended what we had.”, you despaired.

The memories of the months preceding the divorce were fresh in your mind. Levi couldn’t stand being in the same room as you for more than a few minutes at a time, constantly falling out with you over something or the other. You remembered how much it hurt when he always seemed irritated by your sheer presence.

“Rubbish! You should know by now that Shorty is a complete moron with his feelings. Don’t you remember how long he stalled asking you out on a date all those years ago? And also, how I finally had to ask you for him? This is history repeating itself, silly!”, Hange chuckled, gently flicking your forehead

“Erwin and I see him every day, Sweets. We know how much he regrets letting you go. But he’s too much of a chicken to do anything about it. We’ve been badgering him to reconnect with you for a while now. But he was terrified of making a move. The dumbass is utterly in love with you. Precisely why Erwin and I decided to take matters in our own hands.”, they stated matter of factly.

The barrage of information caught you completely off guard. But you couldn’t help but dwell on one detail in particular -

“He’s still in love with me?”

.

Levi’s POV

Levi felt restless on the drive back home, aimlessly fidgeting with his seatbelt and rapidly tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. He was worried about you. Well, he always was, but more so because of what happened today. He suppressed the constant urges to turn his car around and return to you because he needed to get home to Luna and relieve Isabel of her baby-sitting duties.

He parked the car in the driveway and walked through the front door, momentarily freezing upon seeing a tall blonde man seated on the couch with Luna half asleep on his lap, immediately relaxing after recognizing who it was. He was reading her a story from one of the many books you had bought while Isabel was lounging on the loveseat beside them, her face glowing under the light from her phone screen. All three turned to Levi upon hearing the jingling of his keys.

“Papa!”, the little one was refreshed by the sight. She ran to greet her father by wiggling her way off the man’s lap and on to the floor and hugged is leg.

“Hi, moon beam! Erwin, what are you doing here?”, he asked as he gave Luna a kiss and then looked up at the man.

“I’m here to check in on you. How was your meeting with uh... ahem?”, Erwin cleared his throat instead of mentioning your name in the toddler’s presence.

“Check in on me? How do you know about that? What did you do?”, Levi’s temper audibly rose with each question.

“I’m going to tuck Luna into bed, and you are going to wait right here for my return. We need to have a little chat.” he glowered at the taller blonde before he could answer, ignoring the sheepish smile slapped across his little sister’s face.

Luna was out cold the moment her head rested on the pillow given how worn out she was after horsing around with Isabel all day. Additionally, story time with Erwin already had her feeling drowsy by the time Levi had returned home. Ten minutes and a few goodnight kisses later, he was sitting at the dining table with the two adults, sipping tea that Erwin had just brewed.

“When do you plan to start telling me what is going on? I could have had dinner during the wait.”, he jibed.

“I take it that Suki and Furlan were successful in bringing you two face-to-face?”, Erwin’s tone was casual, maintaining steady eye contact with his old friend.

He proceeded to explain in great detail, how he and Hange worked with both your close friends to hatch this plan.

“Can’t you two keep your eyebrows and shitty glasses out of my fucking business?”, Levi growled.

“Since you both can’t communicate like mature adults and figure things out for yourselves, we had to step in as catalysts. Hange is at her apartment right now, making sure she’s okay.”, Erwin kept his defense short.

Levi was at a loss of words. Sometimes he felt like he wasn’t worthy of his two friends. Hange and Erwin always went out of their way for him when he was hit with a challenging situation, and all he ever did was snivel about it.

“Fine. I’ll give you both credit where you deserve it. I had been wanting to see her myself. But I didn’t know what to say. She is coming over tomorrow to see Luna. So, thanks, I guess.”

Erwin knew that this was the closest thing to an apology and appreciation that he was going to get from Levi. So, he took it with a smile.

“Awesome!”, Isabel's scream cut through the calmness.

“And you.”, his fiery gaze landed on her at the far end of the table where she strategically seated herself away from the reach of her older brother in case if he was particularly irked. “I’m going to take care of Furlan later. But you too are hiding things from me now?”,

“Hey! I was just following Erwin's orders! And how could I say no to having my favorite person all to myself for an entire day?”, she reasoned, her face resembling a cartoon cat that Luna was fond of; Puss in Boots, was it?

“So, how did it go?”, Erwin intervened before Levi could scold her further.

Levi took a minute to gather his thoughts. Images of your face flashed before his eyes, making his tense posture relax significantly.

“I - I don’t even know how to describe it. I feel like for the first time in forever, I might sleep well tonight just because I met her. She looked so beautiful.”, his lips showed signs of the smallest smile as he ran his fingers along the rim of his teacup, gazing at the dark liquid contained within.

He quickly composed himself after realizing that he had in fact just said these words out loud and they were not just in his head, but it was too late. Isabel oohed with amusement and yelped after receiving a flying spoon to the head from him.

“It was also... a stark reminder of what an absolute piece of shit I have been to throw away everything we had. She’s in so much pain.”, his softened expression clearly revealed the despair behind his words.

“As are you, Levi. You made a grave mistake. Unfortunately, you're not the only one who is paying for it. But there is no use lamenting over the past, is there? What counts is what you plan to do now. Have you decided what you will say to her when she visits?”

Levi let out a long, suffering sigh. “I regretted what I did the moment I came back to an empty home from the court that day, Erwin. Seeing her today only reaffirmed how shitty my life is without her. I need to win her back. I’m afraid she’ll reject me after what I did to her. But - But she still needs to know that I -

I’m still in love with her.”

Chapters: Four | Five | Six

[fanfics4all]

Lioness And Her Lion

Request: Yes / No  So the reader is Daryl’s younger sister and with soulmate marks Glenn and the Reader each have half of a tattoo please? any season is @julia-potter626​

Requests are closed <3 Have a nice day/night

Glenn Rhee x Fem!Dixion!Reader 

Word count: 2645

Warnings: Nothing really I think

Y/N: Your Name 

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 

Masterlist 

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

My two older brothers taught me all about soulmates when I was growing up. They each had a different tattoo. Merle’s was a deer on his hand while Daryl had a really pretty cherokee rose with two arrows. 

They each got theirs when they were fifteen, so when it was my turn I was so excited to see what I would get! As soon as I blew out my candles I searched my body for the new tattoo. I found it quickly on my arm and smiled. 

“That’s pretty badass, little lady.” Daryl said with a smile. 

“I don’t know little lamb, seems you’re stuck with some asshole.” Merle said and Daryl smacked him. 

“Fuck off, don’t scare her.” Daryl growled and I rolled my eyes at my brothers. 

“Can you two please not fucking fight on my birthday?” I groaned. They always seemed to be at each other’s throats, but I was the only thing that seemed to bring them together. If anyone ever messed with me they would come together and take care of the problem. After I got my tattoo, they seemed to be extra protective of me. So when the world ended they took me with them and made sure I was always safe.

A month into the apocalypse, I had become really depressed. I gave up hope of ever finding my soulmate and my brothers noticed how crushed I was. Daryl always tried to keep my mind off it, or tell me that my person was still out there, but it was just so hard to believe that with the way things were going. It was especially hard to believe his words when I had Merle telling me that he was wrong and I should just give up like he did. Eventually the three of us found a group and joined them in surviving. Daryl had met his soulmate Carol, which went roughly, but turned out alright in the end. Merle had turned into more of a druggie and Daryl kept me away from him. I was honestly distant from everyone in the group. I was still so broken up about never finding my soulmate that I would just spend most of the time in my tent or out hunting with Daryl. 

One day I was sitting alone in my tent, just staring at my lioness tattoo. That's really how I spent a lot of my time. How could something so beautiful bring me so much pain? 

“Hey! Y/N!” I heard Daryl call for me. I sighed and pulled down my sleeve, then made my way outside. 

“What is it bubba?” I asked, walking over to him. I noticed he was standing with one of the guys in the group, Glenn I’m pretty sure his name is?

“What did I tell ya about using that damn nickname around other people?” He growled and I rolled my eyes. 

“Get over it. If you can call me little lady around everyone then I can call you bubba.” I said crossing my arms and he sighed. 

“Whatever. Kid, show her your arm.” He said to Glenn. 

“Uh, alright?” He said and extended his arm towards me. My eyes widened and I looked down at my covered arm. 

“D-Do you think?” I whispered and looked up at my brother for confirmation. 

“Only one way to find out.” He said and I pulled my sleeve up. I placed my arm next to his and our tattoos started to glow softly. Both our eyes widened and we looked into each other’s eyes. 

“It’s you…” We whispered at the same time. 

“Told ya you’d find him.” Daryl said and I smiled. 

“But, if you even think about hurtin her, you’re gonna deal with me!” Daryl threatened and I groaned. 

“Way to ruin the moment!” I said and my brother shrugged, but walked off. 

“I was honestly starting to lose hope.” Glenn said, making me look back at him. 

“I already lost hope, that’s why I’ve been so distant.” I blushed. Glenn placed his hand on my cheek, making me look into his brown eyes. 

“You don’t ever have to worry about losing me.” He said and I smiled. 

“I really hope so.” I replied. 

Our group had grown, which meant we needed a bigger place to keep everyone. We had found a prison that we were all living in, it was a nice little community. Everything was great, until the Governor attacked us with a tank. I was grabbed by Maggie during the attack and she helped me get to safety, along with Sasha and Bob. I had no idea where Daryl or Glenn were, and I had no idea if either of them were safe or dead. The four of us were in the fog and walkers were growling all around us. We all stood back to back killing any walker that made their way to us. It was hard and I was almost bit, but Sasha shot it. 

“You ready?” Maggie asked once we were all safe and recovered from the attack. 

“We should wait till the fog clears.” Sasha said. 

“We’ve been waiting a while.” Maggie said. 

“You see all this? We got lucky. We need visibility. And we’ve got six bullets left.” She sighed. 

“She’s right. We’ve been doing good following the plan. No need to get sloppy now.” Bob said and I rolled my eyes. 

“I am a tracker, I could just lead us away from the walkers.” I pointed out. 

“No, if we don’t keep you safe Daryl will have all our heads on spikes.” Sasha said and I sighed. 

“Glenn wouldn’t be too happy either.” Maggie said and I nodded. 

“Fine, whatever.” I said as Maggie pulled out a compass. 

“What is it?” Sasha asked. Maggie tossed it to her and sighed. 

“It’s broken.” She said and Sasha sighed in defeat. 

“We don’t need it. Sun comes up in the east, sets in the west. We’ll keep an eye on it in between. We’ll be fine, right Y/N?” Bob asked and I gave a small smile. 

“Yeah, we’ll be fine.” I agreed. The two women didn’t seem too convinced, but didn’t say anything. 

Once the fog cleared we all headed out. We found some tracks and I sign that read.

‘Sanctuary for all community for all those who arrive survive Terminus.’ 

“Terminus. When we were out on the run to the veterinary college, we heard a message about this on the radio.” Bob said. 

“They were broadcasting?” Maggie asked. 

“What did it say?” Sasha asked. 

“Couldn’t make it out. I only know because I’m seeing it now. “Those who arrive survive.”” He answered. 

“We should go.” I said. Maybe Daryl and Glenn are there.  

“I thought we were looking for your brother and Glenn.” Sasha said. 

“What if they saw one of these? They would go looking for me looking for them.” I said and Sasha sighed. 

“Look at this map. All these tracks from different directions, all leading to the same place!” I said with a smile. 

“It’s far. And we don’t know if there are other signs.” Sasha said, thinking with her brain rather than her heart. 

“You don’t think this is the only one?” Maggie asked and I smiled slightly. 

“This is the best lead we’ve had so far. It says sanctuary. That’s just another reason to try. Others from the prison could be there. Tyreese.” Bob tried convincing Sasha. 

“If it sounds too good to be true… Maybe if Glenn or Daryl saw one of these, maybe they’d feel the same way.” She said. 

“Glenn wouldn’t. He’d believe, I know it.” I said. 

“And Daryl?” Sasha asked and I sighed. 

“Daryl would probably agree with you.” I answered and she nodded. 

“Look, what do you want to do, Sasha? Keep making these circles from the bus? Or are you talking about us starting to do something else?” Bob asked and she looked at him. 

“We’re not splitting up. That can’t happen. You want to take a vote or something?” He suggested. 

“We don’t need to vote.” She said and walked away. I smiled at the other two and followed behind them. 

After a while we set up camp in the woods nearby. Bob and Sasha stayed at the little camp while Maggie and I went to get firewood. Maggie had become the older sister I’ve always wanted. When we first met, she had become protective of me almost instantly, said I reminded her of herself when she was my age. 

“Sasha isn’t gonna go through with it ya know.” I said with a sigh. 

“Yeah, I know.” She also sighed. 

“I’m goin’ with or without them.” I said and she gave me a small smile. 

“Then I am too. I promised your brother and Glenn that I’d keep you safe.” My eyes widened. 

“Really? You’d risk everything for me?” She nodded with a smile. 

“Of course, I need to see my sister too.” She said and I nodded. 

We decided we weren’t gonna actually tell them we were leaving. Instead, while the two of them were asleep, we left a note. 

‘Don’t risk your lives 4 me good luck’ 

The two of us were off to Terminus. Trying to find anyone from the prison. Our siblings, my soulmate. We followed the tracks and ended up finding another sign. We ran up to it and I went to write on the box it was on, but a walker growled behind me. 

“I got it.” Maggie said, but I stopped her. 

“No, I got this.” I said with a smile. I walked up and kicked it in the knee, then stabbed it in the head. I cut its stomach open and used some blood to write on the box. 

‘Glenn and Daryl go to Terminus Y/N, Maggie’ 

Maggie gave me a smile and nodded for us to continue. She handed me a rag and I cleaned the walker blood off. 

“That was a smart idea.” She said and I smiled slightly. 

“Thanks, Daryl taught me use what you got.” I said and she chuckled. 

“Smart man your brother is.” She said and I nodded. 

“It came in handy when the world ended.” I said and she sighed. 

“The worlds not over.” I looked at her confused. 

“What’d you mean?” She smiled. 

“The worlds over when all the good people are gone.” She said and I thought about that for a moment. Maybe she was right. 

When we passed another building with a walker near it I did the same thing. 

‘Glenn and Daryl go to Terminus Y/N, Maggie’ 

I needed to leave a trail. I needed to be with them again. I needed to know they were alright. Not knowing anything was killing me, more than anything that’s happened before. I refused to believe either of them were dead. But I had to be strong like Daryl and even Merle taught me. Dixions were strong right till the very end. 

Maggie and I reached a town. The two of us decided to see if we could find anything. It was abandoned like most places were nowadays. There ain't nothin’ safe out there anymore. Terminus might not even be safe, but it could be safe enough for a while. Maggie might have wanted to look for supplies, but I needed to find another walker.

“We need to rest for a bit.” Maggie said and I sighed, knowing she was right. 

“Ain’t nothin’ looks safe enough.” I pointed out and she gave me a small smirk. 

“We got walker blood all over us, we could just lay in the small pile over there and blend in.” She said and I thought she was crazy, but it was the best idea we had. So, the two of us laid down and rested for a bit. 

We woke up to a sudden crash and walkers coming out from all their hiding spots. Maggie grabbed me and we went to grab some weapons. Maggie grabbed a sign and I pulled my bow from my back. We heard someone else fighting them and found Sasha on top of a car. The two of us joined in the fight. 

“Where’s Bob?” Maggie asked. 

“Out looking for you two.” Sasha answered. 

“What are you here?” 

“Supplies and rest.” Maggie answered and I bit my lip. 

“I was looking for another walker.” I said and Maggie looked at me with slightly wide eyes. 

“Obviously, we found more than I wanted…” I blushed slightly in embarrassment. 

“Y/N, we didn’t need to go into town to leave another message.” Maggie said, grabbing my shoulders. 

“I know, but what if they came through here before they saw any of those damn messages! I gotta leave as many as I can!” I said and She sighed. 

“We’ll find them.” Sasha said and we both looked at her. 

“We can make it there.” Maggie said. 

“I know, so let’s find Bob and let’s make it there.” She said and I smiled. 

It really wasn’t that long before we found him. All we had to do was follow the tracks, but at a faster pace. We saw him walking along the tracks and we all smiled. 

“Bob.” Sasha called and turned to face us. He smiled and the three of us hugged him. After the short reunion we followed the tracks to another sign. 

‘Glenn and Daryl go to Terminus Y/N, Maggie, Sasha, Bob’ 

We walked a while and made it to a tunnel. Another perfect spot for a message. 

‘Glenn and Daryl go to Terminus Y/N, Maggie, Bob, Sasha’ 

We all tried goin’ through the tunnel, but we heard walkers. We couldn’t go through. We had to go around, I only hoped my boys would do the same. During our trip we found some people in a car. They had been with Glenn! We all heard shooting from inside the tunnel and quickly drove in. 

“Get down!” Abraham shouted. Each of us took aim with our guns and killed the small hoard of walkers. When they were all dead I walked up to Glenn and hugged him crying. 

“Oh my God.” He whispered. We pulled apart and I kissed him more than once. 

“Hi.” I whispered. 

“Hi.” He whispered back. My heart felt fuller than it did before and we kissed again. 

All of us were clearing the walkers to the side, deciding to stay the night here. 

“God, you are so beautiful.” Glenn said after we just dropped a walker on the ground. I smiled and laughed. He was adorable as ever. 

“How’d it go?” Glenn asked Rosita as she walked back with the girl Glenn had been protecting. 

“End of the tunnel’s secure. If anything tries to come in, we’ll hear it in plenty of time. 

“We ain’t get to officially meet.” I said to the girl. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Tara, this is Y/N. Y/N, Tara.” Glenn said and she shook my hand. 

“Hi.” She said. 

“Hi.” I replied. 

“He’s a big fan of yours.” She said and Glenn gave a small chuckle. 

“I met Tara on the road. Couldn’t have made it here without her.” He said and I pulled her in for a hug. 

“Thank you.” I said. 

“When she heard what I was doing, she said she had to help me. She’s just that kind of person.” He said, smiling at her. If it was any other situation I would probably be jealous, but he was my soulmate and based on what she said, he talked about me a lot. Glenn grabbed my hand and I pulled him in for another kiss. My other half was back and I felt happy for the first time since the prison. Now all I needed was Daryl and my world would be perfect once again. But for right now, this was enough.

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[world-of-puppets]

Puppetry Lost Media

In honour of reaching 50 followers last week (now 55 followers, as of writing this) I decided to cover two subjects of great interest to me: puppetry (of course) and lost media.

Everybody online loves a good old bit of lost media. Whether it be being a part of the many searches for the media in question, or watching documentaries about them on sites like YouTube. I’ve been mildly addicted to the latter kind of content for a while. From what I’ve seen, though, there aren’t many videos or articles out there specifically covering lost puppetry. So, in no particular order, here are a couple of pieces of lost puppetry I found while scrolling through the lost media wiki.

銀河少年隊 - Ginga shounen-tai AKA Galaxy Boy Troop (1963 - 1965)

Osamu Tezuka is one of the most pioneering figures in Japanese art and animation. Starting as a manga artist in the 1940s inspired by the animated works of American studios such as Walt Disney and the Fliecer Brothers, he adapted and simplified many of the stylistic techniques of both artists to create his own signature style of big shiny eyes, physics defying hair and limited animation. A style that would go on to heavily influence the world of anime and manga as a whole.

But animation and graphic art were not the only mediums Tezuka would dabble in. Ginga Shounen-Tai, or Galaxy Boy Troop in english, was a television series that aired on the public broadcast channel NHK from April 7th, 1963 to April 1st, 1965. Running for 2 seasons with a total of 92 episodes.

The series was a mixture of marionette characters that utilised the Supermarionation marionette technique, popularised by Jerry Anderson’s Thunderbirds, and limited traditional animation. The story revolves around a child genius named Roy who leads a rag-tag group of heros around the galaxy in a rocket ship in order to revive the earth’s sun and later protect it from alien invaders.

Out of the 92 episodes that aired, only episode 67 still exists in its entirety with French subtitles, and the full episode can be found on YouTube with English subtitles uploaded by user Rare TezukaVids. According to user F-Man on the Tezuka in English forums, footage of episode 28 exists but with no audio, and episode 87’s animated segments exist without the marionette segments. F-Man also claims the reason for Galaxy Boy Troop’s disappearance is due to Tezuka not being proud of the series and having all episodes of it destroyed.

Personally, I think it’s a shame that pretty much all of this series is gone. From what I’ve seen in episode 67, it looks really charming. Tezuka’s signature character design style was adapted suprisingly well to marionettes, and the puppetry itself isn’t that bad either. I love the little face mechanisms like the blinking eyes, flapping mouths and others. It gives the puppets a lot of personality and charm. Like, just look at this old mans eyebrow mechanism and tell me you wouldn’t want to watch 92 episodes of this show;

Tinseltown (2007)

Tinseltown was a 15 minute sitcom pilot created by the Jim Henson company under thier Henson Alternative banner. The pilot was commissioned by the Logo Network and aired as part of the Alien Boot Camp programming block in 2007.

The pilot (and likely the series, had it been picked up by the logo network) features a cast of both puppets and live actors as characters. The premise revolves around Samson Kight, an anthropomorphic bull preformed by Brian Henson and drew Massey, and his partner Bobby Vegan, an anthropomorphic pig prefomed by Bill Barretta and Michelan Sisti, as they attempt to balance thier lives working in Hollywood with life as parents to thier sullen 12-year-old foster son, Foster, played by Paul Butcher. Other human characters included Mia Sara as Samson’s ex-wife Lena and Francesco Quinn as the family’s manservant Arturo.

The Tinseltown pilot used to be available on the Logo Network’s YouTube channel, but was later removed for unknown reason. Since then, the pilot has not been made available online. However the characters Samson and Bobby have made appearances in other Henson related works, such as the improv stage show Stuffed and Unstrung, where they played the role as the shows producers, and in a 2011 video on the Jim Henson Company YouTube channel celebrating Jim Hensons 75th birthday.

I find Tinseltown pretty interesting as I feel like it should be more noateable or known, considering that this is (as far as my knowledge goes) the first Jim Henson Company project featureing openly lgbtq characters as its leads, and would have been the first Henson show to do so had it been picked up. As someone who’s interested in lgbtq+ representation in creative media such as animation, I realised that there’s not many examples of canon lgbt characters in puppetry. The only ones aside from Samson and Bobby I could think off the top of my head would be Deet’s Dads from The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance and Rod from Avenue Q. Though, obviously, there could be more I’m not currently aware of. I don’t think the Tinseltown pilot was a masterpiece or anything. After all, there’s probably a couple of good reasons Logo didn’t pick it up for a full series. But I think it be cool if either Henson co. or Logo made this available online again, if just so we could appericate it as an interesting little footnote in the history of lgbtq rep in puppetry.

With that said, considering the pilot’s obscurity and the fact that it’s main couple haven’t been used in any Henson Related projects in almost ten years, as well as the possibility that there may be legalities preventing the Henson company from releasing it such as Logo still owning the rights, it’s unlikely we’ll see the Tinseltown pilot anytime soon.

Sonic Live in Sydney (1997 - 2000)

Sonic the Hedgehog is a fictional character no stranger to multiple interpretations of him and his universe across a diverse range of media. From the more light-hearted and comedic stylings of The Adventures of Sonic the Hedgehog and Cartoon Networks Sonic Boom cartoon series, to more serious faire such as the Sonic SatAM cartoon and the Sonic Adventure videogame duology. One of the more obscure and stranger adaptations of the character came in the form of Sonic Live in Sydney, a one an a half hour live show hosted at the former Sega World Sydney amusement park in Darling Harbor, Sydney, Australia. Originally beginning as a live show with actors in meet-and-greet style costumes, the show eventually was replaced with a puppet show during its last two years.

The shows plot was set in an alternate timeline whos continuity was a mix of the SatAM cartoon and Sonic the Hedgehog 3, where Doctor Robotnik’s Death Egg crash lands in Sydney, Australia instead of Angel Island and attempts to take over before being foiled by sonic and friends. According to Phillip Einfeld of Phillip Einfeld Puppetoons, the company that made the puppets, Sega felt the costumed actor version of the show wasn’t dynamic enough, and wished to replace it with a version featuring live puppets with animatronics. Both versions of the shows plot are identical.

While Sonic Live in Sydney’s soundtrack is available on YouTube, and some photos of the show are available on the Lost Media Wiki, no footage of either the costumed actors version or the puppet show version have resurfaced. The show was closed down in 1999, possibly due to cost, shortly before the Sega World park as a whole in 2000. So unless there is someone out there who viseted the show between 1998 or 1999 who recorded the show via a handheld camera, footage of both incarnations of the show are likely forever lost to time.

On a personal note, I don’t have much to say on this one other than how gloriously peek gaudy 90s Sonic the set/puppet design is. I have no doubt finding footage of these puppets in action would truly be a silly delight to behold...

Legend of Mary (year unknown)

This one is a little different from the other entries on this list as while the film itself in its entiraty is available on YouTube for anyone to view, the information surrounding Legend of Mary, specifically its year of release, remains a mystery as of writing this.

I have mentioned the film before on this blog so I’ll keep it brief here: in summary, Legend of Mary is a short film retelling of the Nativity featuring the Rod puppets of Austrian puppeteer Richard Teschner. the video was uploaded to YouTube by user canada 150 archive. I looked up the people credited in the film and was able to find most of them, but didn’t find Legend of Mary listed in thier credits, and was unable to find the film on sites like IMDB, tMDB or Letterboxd. I reached out to Canada 150 archive asking if they had any info regarding the Legend of Mary’s release date, and after a coupe of months, they replied saying they didn’t know.

And that’s as far as I got on my search for answers, if anyone of you guys has any information regarding Legend of Mary, then it be of huge help in finding the release date.

Sam and friends (1955 - 1961)

Sam and friends was the very first puppetry television series created by Jim Henson alongside his colabarator and future wife Jane Nebel. filmed in Washington, D.C. and airing twice daily on WRC-TV and the NBC affiliate in Washington, D.C. from May 9, 1955, to December 15, Sam and Friends would mark the first apperence of Kermit (though not yet as a frog) and paved the way for Henson’s iconic and revered legacy in the realm of puppetry on film and television.

With the impact this show had in mind, it may come as a shock to some that almost half of Sam and Friends, specifically, 42 of the 86 episodes, are considered lost. With 16 existing, 8 documented, 9 known from memory, plus 8 existing Esskay commercials and 1 memory-known Esskay commercial. Some taped episodes have been shown at venues such as the museum of the moving image while others have been erased. It’s unknown if copies of these erased episodes still exist.

This post would become far to long if I were too list every episode missing from Sam and Freinds, but if your curious, the lost media wiki article has a comprehensive list of all lost episodes.

Annnd that about it for this post. This type of content is pretty different from the stuff I usually post. So I’m egar to see what you guys think about it. If you enjoyed this article, want to see more like it or have ideas for what puppetry-related topics I should cover in the future. And again, thank you all so much for helping me reach 55 followers. Your support really does mean a lot to me, and I hope you enjoyed this as a follower milestone gift.

Anyways, hope you enjoyed this dip into lost puppetry, and have a happy holiday season!

[lunarrwolf]

mini series coming soon!!

since you guys got me over 300 followers, i held up my end of my own deal and was finally able to think up the first of a 100% written series (social media included only when needed to build the story).

there will only be two for now but i want to get the sykkuno series a good ways in before bringing in new content like this! i’ve been a writer since middle school and have major writer’s block for a book i’m working on rn so i’m really excited about writing an actual story for lunarrwolf! these are the banners, very tiny synopses, and sneak peek excerpts for DAYWALKER!s and Siren Woods

s.h warning: siren woods will not be for the faint of heart as it will be put in the category of a psychological thriller. it will contain suspense, fear(s), anxiety and/or mentions of depression, isolation and swearing

d.w!s warning: this is an apocalyptic world w/o zombies. it will contain violence, anxiety, entrapment, fear(s) and swearing

disclaimer: i will do my absolutely best not to treat either of these as if they were actual novels. i plan on putting in comedic lines and scenes to lower any thriller/horror vibes from the stories, and not too go too far to avoid truly triggering myself or anyone else. warnings will only be issued in chapters that are going to actually include one or more of above the above. but if anyone who reads them in the future have issues do not feel like you need to keep reading.

-

DAYWALKER!s

a variety youtuber mini series

summary

ten creators find themselves amidst a city with an oddly familiar vibe, a weird yet intimidating apocalyptic appearance, and hundreds of strangers that feel the need to do nothing but fight their way through the city. even if that means to the death.

excerpt

“You’re all going to die, you know.. so you might as well give up now and let it take over.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?��

You blinked at the growl woven in with your friend’s deep voice, knowing for sure that if you were in an animation a sweat drop would be making its way down the side of your head. He hated confrontation more than anyone here but when it came to his friends, and being trapped in a place like this? Who knew what damage he would do to keep them safe.

The man ahead of the group did nothing but stand there with a mocking grin on his face. It was unnerving, and dare say almost bloodthirsty. There was no amount of sanity or free will from where you all stood just a couple of yards away, and just that thought alone chilled you to the core.

“Corpse.. maybe you shouldn’t.” You stated, stepping closer to him to lower the risk of the strange man hearing the second part. “I don’t like the looks of that guy even from over here. We’ve already had to deal with a ton of crazy shit since finding each other. We can’t risk losing our only real muscle of the group.”

Ignoring the offended voices of Sean and Ludwig, the man with the torn mask looked at you only when you put a hand on his shoulder. It took sharing glances and seeing head shakes from most of the others to have him loosen the fist his hand was already in. Standing up straight, you watched as he rolled his shoulders, jaw still clenched from the tension. Rae was taking advantage of the off putting interaction and explored the small area, so capturing everyone’s attention when Corpse relaxed a bit wasn’t hard. “It’s gonna be a tight fit but I think we can make it work.”

“Whoa.”

“Where did you learn how to hotwire a car?” Ethan questioned, being the first to make his way toward the beaten vehicle.

“Video games?” The brunette answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She hit the side of the driver door twice, motioning to the group. “Now get your asses in here before that guy decides to pull a Resident Evil zombie sprint on us.”

“Yes ma’am.” Sykkuno saluted, earning chuckles that were a rare sight since ending up here. The two of you didn’t waste time in calling the front seats beside Rae and Ethan, forcing everyone else to get in the back of the truck and make it work. No one could complain, though, seeing the circumstances you were all in.

It took a few seconds of revving the seemingly old engine before the machine began making its way. You could actually hear the ones in the back shift around to get in more comfortable positions for however long a ride it would be. The girl behind the wheel didn’t pay any mind to the stranger that watched her drive you all away, but you did. And even when he continued to shrink in distance and eventually disappeared, you knew his words would stay with you.

“You’re wasting your time! No one gets out of Mirror City!!”

Siren Woods

a variety youtuber mini series

summary

seven internet personalities find themselves in the middle of an old town myth as they take a break from their careers and head up towards a rural mountain area. among every spooky or jumpy experience with a horror game here and there, never did any of them think they’d end up in this situation.

excerpt

The fire crackled with a sense of release, almost as if this large flame represented the time everyone needed away from their jobs. After how crazy the media has become the past few weeks, you and your friends agreed that a trip towards a much lesser known area would do you all well. It was a teenagers on summer break scene where everyone was gathered around a campfire in the backyard of a lake house, telling stories to either amuse or scare each other. Seán and Ethan were the first to do so, tag teaming in a very dramatic reenactment of the first time they met in person, which of course had to be followed by your own scene with Y/F/N.

Time flew by and before you knew it, the sun was completely set and the darkest shade of navy possible was barely lit with a crescent moon and a few stars. The only real source of light was the fire, illuminating the six faces in an orange glow. Any laughter died down minutes ago, leaving a silence that was comfortable for everyone. “You guys want to hear a funny story?”

Squinting at the man sitting in the log across from you, you leaned forward, hands folded in your lap. “Funny haha or funny we might want to kill you after we hear it?”

“Uh..” Corpse met your gaze immediately, his mask somehow looking more eerie with the natural lighting. “Funny kind of hoping you won’t kill me, if I’m being honest.” He confirmed, leaning forward himself to warm up his hands while the rest of you debated on whether to let him tell it.

After a few minutes, and three overtaking two, he was allowed to do so. It was an old myth of the town you all resided in for the week; a Slenderman type of entity of the forest that the locals from dozens of years before chose to call Siren Head. The name stuck once old photos were found and set up in the small museum in the Common. He stood at forty feet tall, with two megaphones for heads and tangled wires for a torso. He had the ability to perfectly mimic broadcasts, conversations, sirens and screams, and had been said to only emit white noise if ever asleep. Speed nearly matched that of a cheetah and his strength was unbelievably high due to his size. Every sighting of said species had only been released by victims, and it was an urban tale that stood alive to this very day.

Rae was on the grass now, legs crossed one over the other as she tried to look at everyone at once. “Why the hell did we all come to a place called Siren Woods, then?!”

“Well.. the town looked really nice online, and it’s living up to that. And I thought siren meant more mermaid than a freaky Creepypasta-type thing.” Sykkuno could do nothing but respond with nerves showing through his face and every subtle movement of his body as he explained why he ended up agreeing with the destination.

“Yeah, I did too.” Y/F/N piped in, shrugging her innocence as you all began telling your sides. “Who doesn’t think of a mermaid when you hear the word siren?! That’s basically what they are.”

“I, for one, think we should find another place to stay.” Ethan spoke up.

Seán gaped at his longest friend in the group, “You don’t actually believe in that.”

“I’m not taking any chances, dude. Those people believe in that thing enough to build a whole section of the museum for it.”

You watched your friends go back and forth, some freaked out by the story but not believing it was real while the rest wanted to find a new vacation spot. “What do you think, Y/N?”

You turned to Corpse, blinking as the simple question processed in your mind. “I’m with Ethan on this.. even if that thing isn’t an actual being the belief here is hardcore.” Three faces lit up in relief while the roommate, Irishman, and faceless internet persona felt differently. “Let me finish..” you sighed, “Let’s stay another night but keep an extra cautious eye on Spencer and Luna. Animals have a sort of sixth sense, so if anything weird happens they’ll warn us. Deal?”

Y/F/N shared a glance with you, letting out a sigh of her own. “Suddenly I’m feeling a lot better that we brought our dogs instead of getting sitters.” She bent down to pet the canines laying between the logs, hoping if they did bark it would just be from a resident knocking on the door.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

For you fic called Satisfied. I wasn’t even reading it and I couldn’t help but be curious about the alternative ending. I know you said that you didn’t plan on continuing it, but I couldn’t get the thought out of my head because I really want to see the batfam’s reaction to Marinette trying to kill Batman.

You know, I was going to do some cute fluff for Valentine’s Day... and then I got this and I was like neW PLAN

Also, I think I’ve gotten worse at angst since starting antidepressants. Now that it happened it's obvious, but >:(

original

batboys’ feelings

@solangelo252 wanted to be tagged if I ever continued so here’s how the bats would react

She swung her legs absently as she waited for the bats to come home. She’d turned on the fire, and then taken a seat on top of the fireplace. It was a testament to just how long she’d been there that she was pretty sure her legs would catch if nothing happened within the next few minutes.

Not that she would have cared, really.

Her eyes swept over the room for what felt like the millionth time in her boredom.

She decided she didn’t like this living room. Too many couches. Rich people are weird.

And then there was the pictures…

She eyed the picture frames from across the room. She’d turned all them around a few minutes after she’d come in. There was something uncomfortable about looking at them… or maybe her problem was them looking at her? Either way, she didn’t like it.

Besides, she was probably going to be seeing them in person in a few minutes, and they definitely wouldn’t be having those smiles then.

Marinette didn’t quite know who would get home and when. She could have figured it out if she’d wanted, could have studied them for days on end, but why would she?

She knew Cass and Duke were asleep in their apartment, at least. They’d patrolled together all day. They wouldn’t be involved.

But any of the other batboys were fair game to show up at any moment.

Not that Marinette wanted them to. She didn’t know how she felt about most things anymore, really, but she definitely didn’t feel like killing them.

She could. If she absolutely had to. With her powers it would be easy… but she hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

She was pulled out of her musing when she heard chatter coming down the hallway. They were close. Maybe. She couldn’t tell. Her ability to tell volume had been greatly diminished since her ears had been cut off.

She strained her not-ears to try and discern Bruce’s voice from the mix. She didn’t think she heard it…

They were definitely coming this way, though, so she’d know for sure in a few moments.

After all, there was no way that they wouldn’t hear the crackling of the fire. It was why she’d set it up, to bring them there.

The door swung open. Her legs stopped swinging.

Wow. Really? She knew her luck was bad, but really? How had she managed to get four out of the five people in the house to come in and not one of them was her actual target.

For a moment, the five of them stared at each other wordlessly.

She bit the inside of her cheek. Should she just portal out…?

No. They’d already seen her. If she left the bats would be more on guard the next time she saw them. This was probably her only chance.

But that meant --.

“Mari?” Dick’s voice broke through the silence.

Could she play this off as just her coming back? Sure, Harley likely wouldn’t approve of how long that would take her… but then again Harley likely wouldn’t approve of her coming home empty-handed, either.

She brought a hand up to rest over the tiny pin on her lapel. It was broadcasting everything that was happening straight to Harley and Joker…

She wondered, vaguely, what they were thinking.

They were probably laughing.

“Is that really you?” Said Jason.

She considered the question for a moment, then brought a smile to her face. “Maybe.”

Dick took a couple steps forward. A hand reached out and grabbed the back of his shirt, holding him back.

“You’re pale,” observed Tim.

Of course he would notice.

She giggled a little. “Yeah. Lack of sunlight and chemical baths do that.”

“Chemical baths?” Repeated Damian cautiously.

“Don’t worry, I was only thrown in chemicals… once? Well, I was thrown in once and pushed under twice.”

This didn’t seem to console anyone. Shockingly.

She hopped down from her spot on top of the fireplace. The bats tensed a little.

She gave a mock pout. “Don’t trust me?”

“Sorry, kid, you’re just acting… weird,” said Jason.

Weird? She hadn’t thought she was acting any different but, then again, she couldn’t really remember how she used to act.

“None taken,” Marinette said. “But, really, if I wanted you guys hurt, you already would be.”

Damian clicked his tongue. “Is that so?”

Her eyes narrowed.

Dick sighed. “Why would you challenge her? Why did you think that would be --?”

“Well, I might as well prove him wrong, don’t you think? I mean, I could kill you guys with a couple portals if I wanted. A little snip --”

Two portals appeared dangerously close to Damian’s head and then closed again.

“-- or a good hit --”

She opened a portal underneath herself and touched ground behind the bats. She poked Tim in the back and smiled when he turned around, reaching out and stealing the pen attached to his chest pocket.

“-- and then there was this thing I learned how to do a little bit ago!”

She tossed the pen in the air and, with a brief flash of blue light, it was gone.

“... I still don’t know where things go when I do that,” she admitted.

Everyone stared at where the pen had just been, more than a little concerned about their own safety.

“How…?” Said Tim carefully.

She tipped her head to the side as she considered the question. Should she tell him the truth? That Nygma had asked her what would happen to an object if she overlapped the portals? Or should she lie and say that she used it to escape?

… probably the escaping thing. That might make them less wary of her.

“Well, after…” How long had she been in there? She didn’t know. “... after a while, I figured I should take my escape into my own hands.”

The boys flinched a little at that. Odd.

“I figured out that when I press portals close enough together whatever I catch in them just kind of… collapses in on itself? Or, at least, they stop existing. It’s hard to tell.”

They were all silent.

Except for Jason, who shook his head. “Wait, that doesn’t make sense. You would have just escaped if you could have done that. And didn’t you say that you needed to know where you were to make a portal?”

And now they were all way more suspicious. She could see them all properly raising their guards.

Even if they were all dressed in their civvies, she knew them well enough to know they had to be hiding weapons on them. They were paranoid bastards, even in their own home. On the off-chance that they didn’t actually have anything on them, they were still trained in hand-to-hand combat. It wouldn’t be a fun fight.

“Where’s Bruce, by the way? If we’re going to have a reunion, he needs to be here, don’t you think?” She tried.

“You don’t need to know,” said Dick.

“... he’s in the Batcave, isn’t he?”

Jason shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. You don’t know how to get in.”

Damn. True.

“Any chance we could skip the next hour or so and you guys lead me there?”

“I think we all know the answer to that,” said Dick.

She sighed lightly. “Yeah…” She detached her lasso from her waist…

And then portaled behind them and took off running.

Marinette didn’t know where Bruce was, but they definitely did.

She waited until Dick had almost caught her before dropping through a new portal and clinging to the rafters of the next room. She watched him come to a halt, the rubber of his shoes screeching against the hardwood floors, and then look around.

The other bats weren’t far behind, coming to a stop beside him.

She watched their hands carefully to make sure they weren’t about to use their comms, straining her not-ears to hear what they were saying:

Damian checked the shadows of the room before clicking his tongue. “Does she know where to go? Should we report to father?”

“She’s on comms,” said Jason.

“Doubt it. If she still had access to comms she would have said something over the past five months,” Dick pointed out.

Damian raised a hand and she readied her lasso --.

Tim stopped him. “Don’t. It’ll put him on guard, but he’ll probably…” His blue eyes scanned the room as well. “... he’ll…” She tried not to move as his eyes passed over her. “... it might give up his location. She doesn’t know where Bruce is yet and she’s probably waiting for us to lead her to him trying to help.”

Alright. Fuck it. She may have had a crush on Tim back when things were good but he had to go.

“So what do we do?” Said Jason.

“Split up. We’ll text each other who is going to be the one to see him. She can’t follow all of us.”

Yep. Definitely had to go.

The four of them split off.

Tim and Jason had gone back the way they’d come, Dick and Damian had headed off in the opposite direction.

She waited for a while after Tim and Jason had split up, enough to make sure Jason wouldn’t hear and come to his aid, and then dropped from the rafters silently.

His steps came to a stop and he gave a tiny sigh.

“I know you’re there.”

“How’d you know?”

“Because, Bean, I know you.”

Her heart skipped a beat at the old nickname.

He pulled his hands from his pockets and she saw the outline of his collapsible bo staff extending even in the dim light of the hallway. He spun on his heel to look at her.

“Any chance we can talk this out?”

She took a short glance around. They were in a hallway, so he couldn’t wield his bo staff quite the way he liked.

Then again, he wasn’t really trying to beat her. If he’d known she was going to follow him, then he was just using himself to buy more time. That was probably why he hadn’t outright attacked her yet, too, the longer he could drag this out the better.

Should she leave…?

No. He was too big of a problem for her to leave.

“I… I just want you to know that none of this is personal.”

“I know,” he said gently.

She raised her fists to fight and advanced on him slowly. “Oh, and if you do somehow knock me out, be a dear and don’t take off my glasses? I’m pretty sure I’d die. Apparently, it’s been five months and I wasn’t fed much.”

He winced ever so slightly.

And then he changed his stance. Business mode, then.

“Noted.”

She dodged his first swing with ease, he always started with a right swing.

Her eyes narrowed slightly as he attempted to jab her with the staff. He nearly stumbled in her haste to get out of range. They both knew that it would be over if she got in close, she’d be able to get a hit in and he wouldn’t be able to get any force behind his attacks.

She took a chance to look back to see how far they were from the nearest room. A good bit, he’d have to force her back quite a lot to get into an open space…

She turned around just in time to get hit in the jaw. She groaned and fell back, then did a quick backroll to get back to her feet.

“You’re out of practice,” he said.

She swallowed back blood. “And you’re a bitch, but you don’t hear me saying anything about it.”

They looked at each other in silence for a few beats…

Their fight styles were both calculated, albeit in different ways; his attacks were always meant to do enough damage to bring someone down quickly, hers were meant to use other’s habits against them. Tim had the disadvantage, what with her miraculous making his attacks less effective and her knowledge of him beforehand, and they both knew it.

She ghosted her hand over the lasso on her waist, wishing for her yoyo. A weapon she was used to would have made this go by far faster...

But it wasn’t the time to be sad over her loss of Tikki, she had other things to do. People to beat.

He ran forward suddenly, bo staff swinging, and she narrowly dodged the right swing. However, that was apparently not his goal, because swiftly used the staff to vault over her and rush towards the room for better mobility.

She grit her teeth and opened a portal on either end of the hall and he narrowly avoided running through it.

His eyes met hers and she sent him a smile.

“Worth a shot,” he said.

“Was it?” She teased, slowly advancing on him.

“I think so,” he said smugly, his eyes focused on a place over her shoulder.

On instinct, she turned to look. Then, when she found nothing, she mumbled a curse.

The end of the bo staff slammed into the side of her head and she stumbled back to try and avoid the worst of the pain. Stars danced in her eyes from two consecutive blows to the head, but she couldn’t concentrate on that. She shook her head a bit and brought her hands up to fight again.

“That should have taken you out. I hate your miraculous right now,” he decided.

“Trust me, you’re not the only one.”

He frowned. “Isn’t it the only thing keeping you alive?”

“See? You get it.”

His frown, somehow deepened. For a moment, he dropped his guard a little.

“What happened to you?”

“I’m sure you have a guess.”

She lunged forward and for once he was the one taken off guard. He quickly dodged the blow to his face and brought his staff towards her shin. He was trying to sweep her legs out from under her, but she had been ready for that.

She hooked her leg around the staff and brought it up. His body jerked forward, pulled by the staff. She drove her elbow into his back and Tim fell to the floor.

She moved the bo staff to her hand and pressed it to the back of his neck before he could get up.

“Any chance you’ll tell me where your father is?”

“Jason would be sad to hear you call him my father.”

“I... don’t care about him right now. Tell me where Bruce is.”

“Nope.”

She felt a little annoyed despite knowing that was going to be the answer. She hit him as hard as she could in the back of the head and winced when he went slack. She dug in his pockets for his phone and turned it on.

Thank kwami you could see notifications even when the phone was locked.

Redhoodiewastaken: should be there soon

She bit the inside of her cheek and pushed herself back to her feet. Her eyes flicked over Tim’s still unmoving body.

It couldn’t be that easy…

Right?

She didn’t know.

She nudged him onto his back with her foot and delivered a blow to his knee to slow him if he woke up too soon (she had a rope, but she wasn’t fond of tying him up with her miraculous weapon, and killing him was off the table if she could help it).

She rolled him onto his side gently and tipped his head back to make sure he could breathe.

She started back the way she came. She needed to decide who she was going to follow next.

Marinette needed to logic this out. Dick would be the best option to go look for their father, he was the most experienced and could hold his own… but Damian would likely want to go for his father because of his weird ‘blood son’ thing… but Jason had sent the text… but Dick was the best fighter… but Damian had a complex… but --...

… aaaaand now she was going in circles. Literally and figuratively.

She stopped her pacing.

It didn’t really matter, did it? She didn’t quite know where any of the people were. She knew the general directions they had gone off in, but that wasn’t enough. The mansion was huge… because it was, y’know, a mansion.

Whatever. She’d open portals in random rooms throughout the house and see if she could find a batboy that way.

After a few more attempts than she’d like to admit, she’d managed to catch sight of someone right as they left a room. She silently dropped into the room and then followed after them, Tim’s stolen bo staff in hand. Maybe it would give whoever it is pause if they saw her.

Damian. She was tailing Damian, she realized as she noted the glint of his shuriken.

Great. The one who was most likely to outright kill her. She loved her luck.

He had opted not to turn on lights because he was currently sneaking and he’d been trained by the League to use the shadows to hide. This was good, she could also use it to hide.

This was unfortunate, too. It meant that she only caught brief flashes of him to follow.

A shuriken sailed past her head when she was halfway through the hallway and she froze up instinctively.

Damian stepped out of the shadows.

“What gave me away?”

He considered her for a second before shaking his head. “Nothing, I just happened to look back at a good time.”

She nodded her understanding and then raised the staff. “Just tell me where your dad is. I don’t want to fight you.”

“That’s your mistake,” he said.

She dodged his next shuriken and collapsed the bo staff for the confined space. If nothing else, she could use the metal to pack more of a punch.

They sized each other up. They both knew that the first hit was usually a disadvantage unless you could get a knock-out first try. Neither of them were eager to put themselves at a disadvantage when so much was on the line.

She’d let him attack first. He’d get impatient at some point, and she needed to think of a strategy.

She couldn’t take him down. Physically, yes, he was probably -- no, definitely -- better than her at fighting, he had years of training on her... but she also needed him to be taken out of the equation. The less people she had pretending to search for Bruce, the better. He likely wouldn’t go if he thought she was tailing him…

A portal opened at her feet. She sent him a wink and a wave before hopping through.

She’d meant it when she’d thought he was a paranoid bastard. Now that she knew where he was and had proven that she could tail him without him noticing (unless he was lucky, which hardly ever happened twice), he would constantly think she was after him.

Tim’s phone buzzed and she looked down.

Therealdamianwayne: Drake is down. She’s armed with his weapon. Assume she has his phone. Everyone else confirm.

Idontwantpicturesthatsjustmyname: haven't seen her

Redhoodiewastaken: me neither.

That was the entire chat.

Nothing about Bruce and who was looking for him. Fair enough, they were assuming she had the phone, but still disappointing.

She started checking rooms again, head resting on her hand as she looked for a flicker of movement and strained to hear anything.

She managed to catch sight of Jason inside his father’s study. He’d changed into his Red Hood gear. She wasn’t sure if she should interpret this as him going to protect Bruce and wanting to be as geared up as possible or him attempting to be as good a distraction as he possibly could be.

Either way...

She dropped down behind him, letting her feet hit the ground louder than usual.

Jason whipped around at the sound and she couldn’t see his face behind his helmet but she didn’t think she wanted to.

Her eyes scanned over him briefly. He was wearing thick padding and armor, she knew…

Wait, was his outfit different? She looked at the red bat on his chest, which was brighter than she remembered it.

He clenched his fists. “You don’t want to do this, Mari, you hardly ever beat me when we spar together.”

“I have more to lose than a bit of honor, now,” she said. She extended Tim’s staff.

“Same here.”

She scowled and twirled the staff in her fingers. She eyed Jason carefully. He wasn’t wrong about her track record. He was all about pins rather than actual hits (or, at least, he was when she was involved), and that was hard to use against him. There were too many variations, too many ways to improvise.

And he had a weight advantage.

And he had very few vulnerable parts at the moment with his outfit. None, possibly, but… she had an idea.

She swung the staff at him and a small groan of frustration left her lips when he let it hit him dead on without budging.

Okay. Fine.

She jabbed the bo staff at his helmet and watched him actually step back to avoid it.

Her eyes narrowed.

She opened a portal above him and dropped down, her bo staff aimed for his head, and she scowled when he ducked to the side.

No matter, she thought as she latched onto one of his shoulders on the way down. The sudden addition of weight, light as it may have been, pulled him off balance. He went crashing into the desk.

Hands struggled for purchase as he drowned in her dress. She grabbed his helmet and started attempting to remove it, bo staff discarded for the sake of getting even one viable place to hit him.

Straddling one of his shoulders, she felt it.

A jolt of electricity ran up her leg and her body seized up in a mix of shock and pain. This was definitely not a good reaction, because she was still touching the stupid taser that he’d had installed in his outfit kwamI DAMNIT THIS HURTS --.

She managed to tear herself off of him, every muscle aching in a way that was way closer to the way the chemicals had burned her for her liking.

And then the pain was gone. Or, at least, the thing administering it was. Her body still tingled with electricity. Every little involuntary spasm only seemed to make it worse.

Jason leaned over her, the bat on his chest back to the shade of red she was used to.

The fucker CHEATED.

He pulled off his helmet and looked down at her mostly unmoving body, his lips drawn in a frown.

She glared up at him as much as her face would allow through the pain. It would be so easy to kill him. A little portal was all it would take.

He reached out and closed her eyes for her.

~

She forced her eyes open and cringed at what she saw.

The walls and ceiling were white and featureless. She had no clue where she was.

She remembered, vaguely, that Jason had once told her Bruce had contingencies for everyone, including his kids. She’d laughed at the time. Now…

She shifted out of the bed they’d put her in, ignoring the dull ache of her muscles, and explored the room. There was a door on one wall, she wasn’t surprised when she found it to be locked. Beyond that… nothing.

Except for a speaker. Her breath caught as she looked at it and she tried to fight back the sudden wave of panic.

What if this wasn’t Bruce?

This could just as easily be her punishment from Harley and Joker for failing. They’d put her in a white room before, this could just be the upgraded one since she’d actively disappointed them.

Would they have given her a bed if they were mad at her? She was pretty sure they wouldn’t, but then again it could just be one of their experiments.

She shuddered a little bit at the memory and suddenly found herself wishing for a jacket.

What would help her figure out if this was Joker or Bruce?

Her eyes scanned the room for any glass and found there wasn’t any observation windows. Point towards the bats.

She looked at her lapel and she whimpered a little when she found that the bug Joker had put on her was gone. It had been mostly hidden by the natural ruffles of her outfit. It wasn’t impossible that the bats had noticed it, but it was definitely unlikely. Point towards Joker.

… what else was there?

She didn’t need to wonder for long, because the speaker crackled to life:

“Marinette, we’re going to come in to talk to you about some stuff we found out while you were out, if you can promise not to attack us.”

She bit the inside of her cheek as she considered it.

“Fine. As long as it’s not Jason, I won’t attack.”

She could practically hear Jason’s whines. And maybe she could. Who knows, the others might be just outside the door.

Probably not, because it took an entire minute before the door opened to reveal Tim.

Well, they appeared to be Tim, at least. She wasn’t going to discard the idea that this was some new fear toxin-induced nightmare just yet.

He stepped through and it closed behind him.

She took a seat on the bed and he came to a stop a few feet from her. They didn’t trust her.

Fair. Tim’s head and knee were still wrapped in bandages from when she’d attacked them.

She allowed herself to wonder, momentarily, why he had come in alone when he was injured. She brushed this off, though. She’d already proven her goal wasn’t really hurting him or the other batkids, and the way he had come in had made it clear he didn’t actually have a key or anything on him.

She rested her head on her hand, scrutinizing his expression. He was trying to maintain a neutral facade, but she recognized the slight downturn of his lips.

“So? You had some findings?” She prompted when he didn’t say anything.

“Right.” He looked down at the clipboard in his hands. “I checked your vitals, and…” He cleared his throat. “You were right. Your miraculous is the only thing keeping you going, your cells haven’t had anything to go on for a long time. You’re… pretty much dead.”

She decided that this had to be real, not fear toxin. Or, at least, if this was fear toxin it was the worst batch Scarecrow had whipped up in a long while.

“... yeah? What’s your point?” She said, waving for him to get on with it.

This only seemed to distress the man in front of her.

“Bean, I don’t think you heard me, you’re dead. Like… not going to come back dead.”

She giggled. “I’m dead inside. Literally.” She held up a hand for a high-five.

He high-fived her on instinct then gave his hand a betrayed expression.

She smiled and put her hands in her lap, running her thumb along where her hand had touched his.

“Please take this seriously,” he pleaded.

“It’s not news to me, I’m the one who brought it up to you. I had, I think, seven granola bars, a cookie, and a few glasses of water for five months. Not exactly three square meals and eight glasses of water a day.”

He gripped his clipboard so tightly his knuckles had turned white. “Your ears were also cut off.”

“No? Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Please just… react normally!” Said Tim, his voice a mix of exasperated and saddened.

She didn’t bother looking at him. “If you haven’t noticed already, I don’t care.”

“You should! You’re dead!”

“What’s the point? I’ll die when I take off these glasses, whenever I’m ready to do that, and that doesn’t change whether or not I want to overreact about it.”

“WE AREN’T OVERREACTING! YOU’RE UNDERREACTING!”

She flinched and reached up to wipe the tears trying to form behind her eyes.

The reaction was instantaneous. Tim dropped his clipboard and, despite her having recently attacked him, dove towards her. Hands locked around her wrists and forced them back into her lap.

She blinked a few times, her brain struggling to figure out why he’d done that. She stared at the hands that had moved down to gently rest over her own, at the thumbs rubbing circles into her skin. She hadn’t done anything good. Why was he…?

She saw the way he looked to be on the verge of tears as well and it clicked.

Ah. He’d thought she was going to kill herself.

Marinette swallowed thickly and looked back down at their hands, trying to ignore the wave of happiness that had decided to rush through her at the tiny action. It wasn’t because she was good, she told herself, it was because he’d thought she was going to die.

She’d be useless if she was dead.

Not that she was very useful right now. She hadn’t succeeded at the one thing she’d been asked to do.

Now she was definitely crying.

So was he, actually.

Wild. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him cry before.

She hesitated, unsure what she was allowed to do, and then slowly leaned her head on his shoulder.

He rested his head against hers.

“We were so… we thought you…” He trailed off, unable to finish any of the thoughts aloud.

She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

She didn’t answer.

Time passed them by as they sat there, leaning into each other, their fingers intertwined.

But...

Should she ruin the moment? She had something she had to tell him. She was pretty sure he already knew, but if he didn’t...

She bit the inside of her cheek.

“Tim,” she whispered.

He nodded slightly to say he was listening.

“They have the ladybug miraculous.”

“We know,” he said quietly. To her surprise, he didn’t pull away. “That’s not what I’m worried about right now, though.”

“It should be.”

He shook his head slightly.

“What happened to you?” He repeated his question from when they’d fought.

Her eyes fell on their hands and she tried her hardest to ignore the tears sliding down her face. “Nothing much. Harley and Joker said they wanted to break me like they tried to do with you.”

He stiffened under her but didn’t say anything.

“But after one trip to the chemical vats Harley changed what they were doing. Put me in a white room like this one. Sometimes they’d dose me with fear toxin, most of the time I would just sit around waiting for Harley to come to try and talk me into killing Bruce. I think that was daily, I don’t really know.”

He drew back a little bit to look at her and she tried not to whine at the sudden cold that came over her.

“That’s… are you okay?”

“I think so. Like I said, it wasn’t much.”

He looked more than a little skeptical. “Okay, so why did they let you go?”

“Wanted me to kill Bruce.”

“But they trusted you to do it without running away, and you did.”

She shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

How do you say ‘I crave the validation of a supervillain’ without saying it? Because even saying it in her head makes it sound pretty bad.

And it wasn’t bad, just… abnormal?

Yeah. That was it. Abnormal.

Shit. He was looking at her for an answer and now that she was trying to think of literally any other sentence to say her mind was just blaring the same words over and over again.

“Uh… didn’t cross my mind?” She said lamely.

He stared at her for a few moments. “You want me to believe that you left the place they had been keeping you in, traveled all the way here, waited however long for us to come home, and fought us… and you didn’t think about leaving once?”

“... yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying happened.”

“I’m not buying it.”

“I’d be concerned about how stupid you thought I was if you did.”

He cracked a tentative half-smile before pulling her into him. “I don’t know what happened, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I’m just… I’m glad you’re safe.”

“Won’t be safe for long. Do you know who’s using the miraculous?”

“Catwoman. She was a little upset she couldn’t keep up the ‘cat’ thing, but I think she doesn’t mind much anymore because of the whole ‘can summon anything at any time and fix every mistake she makes’ thing.”

“Makes sense.”

She breathed a sigh of relief.

She pressed against his chest to pull away from him. “Right. Can I have a marker or pen or something?”

He looked a little confused before he dug into his pockets and found a pen for her. He handed it over. “Sure. Why?”

She twirled the pen in her fingers as she considered the question.

“I need to make a plan to get it back. Obviously. Now get out, I need to think.”

She attempted to shoo him, only to have him catch her wrists again.

“You need to rest.”

“I’ll be fine. Can’t work myself to death if I’m already dead, right?”

He looked reluctant to leave her after that, but she was already pushing him to the door. She watched him step through, trying to catch sight of the space beyond where they’d trapped her, but he was careful to leave in a way that blocked her view.

They still didn’t trust her.

Fair enough. She clutched the pen tighter in her hands.

She fell back on the bed. Even if there wasn’t an observation window here, there was sure to be at least a few hidden cameras to make sure she didn’t do anything to contact Harley and Joker.

And she probably would have if she could. They’d taken the bug on her and the cheap pager she’d been given in case something like this had happened, though.

Her brain wandered to Tim’s question from earlier. Why was she so determined to help Harley?

She’d thought it was just affection. But that couldn’t be it. Tim had given her some affection while he was there and, while it was nice to have someone touch her in a way that wasn’t violent, it didn’t have nearly the same effect as Harley’s hugs and praise did.

Marinette scooted up until her head rested on a pillow and closed her eyes.

Whatever. She could plan. She was good at those.

The options were to a) behave until she was allowed out or b) wait to be visited by Bruce and then put the pen Tim had given her to good use.

She didn’t like either of those options, but they were the only ones that would have a chance of working if she wanted to kill Bruce.

She let herself drift off. She had a lot of waiting to do.

[bastillewolf]

It’s More About Looks Than Skill (VIII)

Pairing: Ryuk/Reader

Summary: Ryuk finds himself gaining feelings for Light Yagami’s best friend, but she doesn’t know he exists. When he makes the grave mistake of touching her, he makes things a lot more complicated.

Notes: I’m back... I told you I wasn’t giving up on this fic, I just needed some time to get over myself. I’ve plotted down the whole story and its ending, so you don’t have to worry about me not finishing this. It might take some time, but I’ll try not to post once every two months. Sorry, once again!

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list! If I wasn’t able to tag you, please check your settings and send me another ask.

@sarai-ibn-la-ahad​, @rustypotatospork​ @mantisandthemoondragon @baby-queen-girl​ @itscalledtrust​ @emilyshurley​ @killtherandomness​ @selmeuuh​ @felicity291​ @mahou-no-momo​​ @bakarinnie​​ @beccawinter​​ @chantelle-c333​​ @ria-demon29​​

Chapter VIII

It wasn’t until she’d said goodbye to Soichiro and stepped through the hospital doors into the night’s breeze, did she hear Light speak again. She was standing miraculously placed behind a large bush, where they wouldn’t notice her. It seemed the young man waited to see if anyone stepped through the doors before deciding to continue his talk with the God of death hovering in the air behind him.

“Ryuk.”

“Hm?”

“I never once felt cursed since I picked up the Death Note. In fact, the thought never even crossed my mind. I’m happier than I’ve ever been, all thanks to this power. I’m going to create a perfect world.”

“Honestly, I could care less whether you feel cursed or happy to have a notebook. I’ll leave that sentimental crap to you humans. But… Normally humans who come into contact with a Shinigami have nothing but misfortune.”

“That’s interesting. But I have no intentions of repeating that pattern.”

She only allowed her lungs to release the air they’d been holding long after she could no longer hear his footsteps walking off. And only then did she allow herself to finally feel what she’d felt in the pit of her stomach all this time; fear.

 ***

“Are you seeing this?” Lights voice carried over the walkie-talkie, but her attention was directed entirely towards what the TV in front of her was broadcasting. Since phones had become a danger as of late, she’d suggested going for a more old-school approach, if it was only to be able to contact Light when her house was feeling a bit too empty. Which was happening more and more frequently.

She hummed in response.

“Even if you don’t agree with me, all I ask is that you not publicise your views in the media. If you can do that, you will be spared. All you have to do now, is be patient. I will create a better world that we can all enjoy. Say goodbye to the world as you know it. Soon, we’ll have a new world ruled by benevolence inhabited by kind-hearted, honest people. Try to imagine it; a world where the police and I-“

“Switch channels. Now.”

She did as was asked of her, and was faced with the collapsed figure of Ukita, a taskforce member she’d just met only a few days prior. “Light… you didn’t-?”

“Of course it’s not me, you fool. I wouldn’t be so reckless. Now L will think I don’t need a name to kill someone. This impersonator is ruining all my plans!”

“Calm down, Light. This might work in our favour. You and I both know L will take all possibilities into consideration, so it could very well be that he’s already figured out about this person acting as a second Kira.”

“Ryuk-“ she heard some muffled noises in the background, “-didn’t give another Death Note to anyone, did you?”

“I only had two,” she could make out, “and I’m surely not stupid enough to give away my second one.”

“Light, please look back at the screen.”

“Hm?”

“A vehicle has just driven through the front of the station!”

“Well, that’s one way to stop the broadcast.”

It took a while, but eventually a police car arrived at the scene. And another, and another, until the whole building was surrounded.

“That’s… Soichiro? Light, that’s your father!”

“There you have it! The police refused to cooperate with Kira! Instead, they are prepared to fight. And, as much as I fear for my own life while saying so, this is right, and it must be done! Kira has become a very threat to our constitution, and as citizens, we must fight back. I am NHN’s Golden News anchor, Kouki Tanakabara.”

***

“I can only say it’s a shame that the answer is no, it’s clear that the police wish to oppose me.”

“How and why is this being broadcasted?” she asked, scooting Light’s chair closer to the television on his desk. It was the next day, and Sakura TV was airing the Kira imposer’s tapes once more.

“This will not go unpunished. So, I’ll start by either taking the life of the director-general of the NPA, or the detective known as L, who is currently leading the investigation against me. The director-general, or L? Who will pay the price in your refusal to cooperate in the creation of a peaceful world? You have four days to decide.”

Light let out a small chuckle. “You were right all along. There is no need to worry.”

“Really?”

“It would appear that another Shinigami has come to the human world, and somehow that Shinigami’s Death Note has fallen into the hands of someone who agrees with Kira. And this person most likely the Shinigami Eyes, which makes him very deadly. His power to kill surpasses even mine.”

“Or her,” she corrected him, to which he rolled his eyes.

“One thing is for certain, if I leave things I’m pretty sure L will be finished off within the next four days. However, I can’t forgive this imposter for the way he’s tarnishing Kira’s image with his senseless killings. Not to mention if he slips and gets caught, the Death Note will be discovered and that I can’t allow. I cannot afford to leave him alone for much longer.”

“Oh, now I definitely hope it’s a girl. If only to watch you struggle.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t struggle with girls,” he protested.

“You’re right. But let’s just say that it wouldn’t surprise me if you turned out gay.”

“Please do shut up.”

 ***

It wasn’t long before L had invited both of them to his secret location. They were currently standing in front of the quirky hotel, after a reasonably lengthy train ride.

“I suppose your father couldn’t have just picked us up?” she asked.

Light shook his head. “That would’ve looked too suspicious. Right now, it just looks like we’re trying to escape our parents by booking a hotel room.”

“Aw, Light,” she cooed, latching onto his arm playfully, “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

He pulled up his nose in irritation, and she felt the Shinigami that had been holding her hand subtly stiffen. “What- what does that mean?”

“Don’t even bother asking, Ryuk,” Light replied.

“I’ll remind you to behave, Light,” she reminded him, “L probably knows this Kira is a copycat because of the fact that they didn’t need a name to kill the person, and you’d do well to think about the possibility that he might have wanted for that last tape to be broadcasted. I’m not sure how you’re going to get out of this one, as you can either choose to be ignorant, or speak up about your ‘deductions’.”

“Hm.”

“God, I hope it’s gonna be a girl.”

 ***

A short introduction followed between Light and the task force, as she simply gave them all a polite smile. She’d told Light briefly about them, as they’d met once or twice when she had her meetings in the café with L beforehand. At first, Light had been appalled by the fact that she knew more about these men that he did, but eventually did accept the fact that he now had someone who was apparently a more trusted figure in L’s mind.

And as expected, tapes were shown to both of them.

“Do you mind if I ask Light to make his deductions first?” L asked her.

She shook her head. “I understand. You’ve talked to me more than you have with Light. Go ahead.”

“So, what do you make of this, Light? Have you come to any conclusions?”

…

…

…It’s a test.

“It’s hard to say, but there might be another person out there with Kira’s power.”

And so it begins.

 You may also write the cause and/or details of death prior to filling in the name of the individual. Be sure to insert the name in front of the written cause of death. You have about 19 days (according to the human calendar) in order to fill in a name.

 “Are you sure you’re gonna pull this off? Pretending to be Kira, I mean?” she nudged him jokingly.

“I sure hope so. As long as I don’t start stuttering like I used to when I was a kid while we go live,” Light replied, almost too innocently. She knew all he wanted to do right now was strangle her for her comment, which is why she made it now; so he couldn’t.

“You used to stutter? Doesn’t seem very like you, Light,” L noted.

“Oh, he did,” Soichiro fondly recalled, “I remember those two reading out loud in Light’s room, giving a presentation to a whole group of stuffed animals, until he stuttered no more. I was so proud of you that day.”

Light shifted in embarrassment, clearly wanting this conversation to go back to business. “Ryuuzaki, does this look okay? I think I managed to make it believable.”

L picked up the sheet of paper. “Hm, I think you’ve done an excellent job with this. However, if we don’t omit the part that says, ‘you’re free to kill L’, then I’m gonna end up dead.”

What a dumbass.

Light laughed accordingly, “Sorry, I guess I got carried away playing the part. I figured if I was him I’d probably demand that he be killed. I was improvising, feel free to change it to whatever you like.”

“Sounds good. Say, just to make sure nothing happens, I’d have Aihara read the script during broadcast. It’s just as a precaution.”

“Of course.”

What a shame.

 ***

They’d sat down in front of the television once more, which seemed to be a more regular occurrence these days. Soichiro met her gaze.

“Sweetheart, do you have any idea when your parents are coming back?”

She shook her head, “They usually let me know the day before. Their schedules are too erratic these days to be able to plan home visits ahead.”

She knew he pitied her when she’d said ‘home visits’. Parents shouldn’t be visiting their home. They should visit work, and be home.

“But they let me know they’re getting all of the divorce papers finalized, and that because of their absence they think it would be best to keep the house until I move out.”

“Your parents are getting divorced?” Light asked, genuinely surprised, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She shrugged. “They told me when we still weren’t on speaking terms because of our fight. Guess it slipped my mind.”

“Well, you’re always welcome to stay at our house, if you’re missing the comfort,” Soichiro reminded her, for which she was grateful. “I was wondering though - and please tell me if I’m stepping out of line here - haven’t you connected with anyone else yet in school?”

“…Connected, sir?”

“W-Well, you know what I mean-“

“…Oh, uh- No, not really.”

“Well, it’s not any of my business anyway, but while your father is gone, please do tell me if you need me to give a young man a stern look.”

She giggled quietly, her cheeks reddening. “Thank you, mister Yagami. But I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“That reminds me,” Light said, “I think I kind of promised someone you’d go out with them.”

“What?”

Ryuk held his breath.

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Snowed In 8

y'all.... I was in a mood... I’ve had a couple glasses of cheap wine... what can I say? My blog is a place of thirst, is anyone surprised? Plz avert your eyes if you're under 18.

Pairing: Geralt x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut, all the yearning, unprotected sex, cockwarming, if you've got something against tubs? major ‘no one can find the emotional braincell’ vibes (plz hmu if there’s anything I didn’t tag I wanna make this a safe space for everyone to thirst together)

Summary: It’s the last night before they go back down the mountain 👀 some hella angsty sexy times. Im sorry the wine hit hard

Part 7 here

__________

The snow started to melt on day fifty nine. 

Everyone was elated, people were buying rounds for the crowded dining room and hollering when a slushy chunk of snow slid off the eves, but not you. You told Geralt you were just so sick and tired of the assholes in the dining hall you wanted to scream. If he didn't believe you, he hid it well. 

You were dreading leaving. Falling asleep curled into Geralt's side every night, sex or no sex, was safe and warm and home. You almost thought the anxiety and cabin fever would be worth it to go on with him so close. 

The night before you were supposed to leave, you once again found yourself nestled against him, sitting in front of the fire. His arms were no longer hesitant to wrap around you and, though your mind still reeled, your heartbeat didn't stutter under his touch. If anything your body only felt calm in his arms. 

You'd mumbled something about finishing this book before you left, it being the last of a set you were sure you'd never find outside of Novigrad, and Geralt had settled by the fire, pulling you with him without a word. As much as you enjoyed the book, you were finding it impossible to focus. Half of you wanted nothing more than to turn and kiss Geralt with everything you had, tell him you loved him, and accept whatever fate befell you. The other half was greedy and covetous. She reminded you that losing this, dignity be damned, would turn your heart to dust. 

"Y/N?" 

"Geralt?"

"You haven't turned the page in a while. I thought you were asleep." He gave you a gentle squeeze as he spoke. 

"Oh…" 

"You okay?" 

You sighed, letting the book fall closed and resting your head back against his chest, "Just restless I guess…" 

"Mmmm, it'd be a shame if we couldn't get a good night's sleep before our trek down the mountain." Geralt seemed to completely envelop you, his lips brushing your temple as he spoke. 

You held a hand over his arms, "A crying shame." You agreed, "But first a bath, I feel gross." 

You could feel his smile as he pressed his cheek to your hair, "A bath would be nice." 

This was almost perfect. 

Other than the fact that after this it's over.

You pushed the thought from your mind as you scrambled to your feet, gathering a couple towels and the soap. Geralt warmed the water as usual before the two of you stripped and hopped in. Or tried to.

"I don't think we're both going to fit," you giggled, one leg hooked over the side of the tub and one knee pulled into your chest, trying to make room for Geralt. 

He squatted down, extending his legs on either side of your body, "Just barely." He teased, reaching a hand toward your ankle dangling over the edge. He guided your legs on either side of his hips, his touch stoking the needy fire in your belly. 

The tub only allowed for you to scoot back so your knees were at his hips, which made scrubbing your body at the same time as him a little difficult, so you settled for just washing your hair. You got it all lathered up only to realize there wasn't any dignified way to rinse it. You sighed and shimmied a little closer to him so you could twist and bend back to dip your hair in the water. Geralt gripped your hips and pulled you into his lap before you could even try leaning over, earning a surprised squeak from you. 

You could see the lust in his eyes, but his voice was soft and patient, "Lean back. I've got you." 

You bit your lip and tried to ignore your heart fluttering at his words, leaning into his arm now wrapped around your waist. Your hips shifted,  making your core brush his already hard cock, a gasp falling from your lips. He pulled you back up out of the water quickly, the way he moved you setting your body on fire. 

You rocked your hips, notching his length between your folds and sighing in relief at some kind of friction. 

"Mmmmmm, almost." He purred, gripping your hips and holding you steady, "unless you can't wait for me to wash my hair?" 

The hungry look in his eyes was betraying his calm tone. You could break his resolve if you wanted to, but you also wanted to know where this was going. 

"And what if I can't?"

He grinned sitting up a little taller and pulling you down so he could whisper in your ear, "You could always wait on my cock…" 

His words went straight to your pussy, making you shiver, "Fuck, yes. Yeah I want that." 

He lowered his mouth to the side of your neck, nibbling at your jugular between words, "You want me to stretch you first?" 

You tried to rock your hips again, wriggling against his grip, "No," the word came out far more desperate than intended, but the last thing you wanted to do after hearing that was wait. 

He let go of your hips to guide one of your hands down between his thighs, "You can't move until I say, deal?" 

You nodded eagerly, your hand finding his length and lining him up with your entrance, "No moving." 

He gripped the edge of the tub with both hands as you sank over just his tip, moaning as you stretched around him. You took him ever so slowly, eyes fluttering closed when he shifted to lather the soap through his hair and pushed up another inch. You gasped and gripped the side of the tub with white knuckles. 

The slow stretch was marvelous. You felt every millimetre of him as you sank the rest of the way down until you felt him bump your cervix. Any twitch was felt, even the minute movements caused by his hands working through his hair. You opened your eyes looking directly into Geralt's. He didn't look away like he usually did and you almost wished he had. His eyes burned into yours, twisting something in your chest close to the breaking point. 

You tore your eyes away from his after too much time to justify and realized he had yet to rinse his hair. You let out a breathy giggle, brushing some suds out of his hairline, "Is this your new fashion statement?" 

He smiled and shook his head before slowly leaning back into the water. The redistribution of weight had him pushing up against you even more, making you clench and him grunt as he gripped the side of the tub. The amount of self control he had would have impressed if you weren't lost in memorizing exactly how he felt inside you. 

When he sat up and half pulled out you chased him, fighting every urge to grind your hips against his, "Can I move yet?" Your voice was higher than you'd enjoy admitting later, but at this point you didn't care how desperate you looked. You needed him. Not just to move, you needed him to hold you tight to his chest and soothe the ache in yours for at least a few more minutes. 

"Almost."

For a moment you forgot you were sitting on his cock, taken by surprise by that damned tone again. You furrowed your brow, about to ask him about it before he held your hips to him with one arm and moved you both back against the end of the tub, giving him more leverage and better use of his hands. 

You whined at the small shifts within you, "Geralt,"

He slowly lifted your hips so only his tip was left inside you, "Slow or fast?" His face was a mix of hopeful and absolutely lost, eyes begging for something from under heavy lids. 

You whispered your answer, leaning forward to brace yourself against the edge, a hand to either side of his head, "Slow." 

He sighed, almost in relief, and pushed into you again in deliciously long strokes. In the back of your mind you thought that now would be the time for neck bites, hickeys, hiding your face in his clavical, but his shoulders were just under the surface of the now choppy water. Either way you didn't think you'd be able to look anywhere but his face. He was staring up at you, his gaze so vulnerable and fervent that you thought you could cry. You gritted your teeth to cut off the tears before they showed on your face, drinking up every bit of him like this as you could. 

His eyes never left yours as he thrust, gradually picking up the pace. You felt yourself getting closer to an orgasm with every snap of his hips. You kept your moans to breathless whimpers or gasps, something about the moment being far too personal to broadcast to the rest of the inn. You clenched around him, not trusting your words not to ruin this feeling. 

Geralt grunted, sitting up just a little more so you had your arms draped around his neck instead of holding yourself up. He let you take the pace, reaching one hand to rub your clit as the other roamed your body. You felt him twitch and clench his jaw with the effort of holding back. Your hands instinctively tangled in his hair, as you rose and fell down his length, sending peaks of water over the edge of the tub. 

He picked up speed circling your clit and you let your forehead rest on his, eyes closing as you whined. You did your best to keep that flood of pleasure at bay just a little longer, wanting this to last forever, but it came crashing over you anyway. 

You pulled him closer to you, barely keeping the wherewithal to keep your lips to yourself as you rocked over him, holding your scream back to a strangled sigh and squeezing your eyes shut.  As soon as you came he let go, spilling deep into you. His soft moans reverberated over your whole body, almost making you dizzy with a whole different type of satisfaction. You slowed your hips, settling on Geralt's lap, still around his softening cock, forehead pressed against his. 

You didn't dare move as the two of you caught your breath, reveling in the feeling of being so close to him. You knew he'd started to recover when he laid one hand over your hip under the still warm water and the other cupped the back of your neck. You took a deep breath and opened your eyes to find his still closed, just as if he were sleeping. If you hadn't been so disoriented you might have called the look on his face reverence, but you just labeled it sweet. You untangled your hands from his hair only to trail your nails over his scalp and through the rest of the length. The contented hum you drew from him almost had you lurching forward to kiss him. 

His lips were mere inches away, but you held your ground. If you were the one to initiate a kiss and he rejected you you really didn't think you'd be able to come back from it. So you waited, praying he'd push forward the two inches between your lips and end the all-consuming tension. 

He never did. His hand slipped from the back of your neck, over your shoulder and down your back, sending chills up your spine. 

"Ready to get out?" 

 You shook your head with the smallest of movements, earning a chuckle from deep in his chest. You were determined to savor every moment, every breath. 

When you eventually got out of the bath and into bed you curled into his side and fell asleep, dreaming of staying right there forever. 

__________ 

part 9 here!

Tag list! Yall make me so damn happy 💕 I just love you😘

@ab-haya @fire-in-her-veinz @cavillhavoc @baliebay19

[xpedropascal]

To Be So Lonely [Maxwell Lord x Reader] Part Two

Summary: After being struck by a family tragedy, Maxwell Lord finds his legacy in taking over his father’s business, Black Gold Cooperative. Cold and shut-off from the world around him, he decides he does not have time for anything other than his work and cares only about pushing his company to success – but how difficult does that become for him when you enter his life as a ghost from the past?

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

WARNINGS: stalker-ish behaviour, mild sex reference

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR [coming soon!]

MASTERLIST

KO-FI

AUTHOR’S NOTE: yay! chapter two! :) flashbacks can be identified through use of italics. To Be So Lonely will have themes of hurt/comfort, angst, fluff etc. i plan on it being a whole exciting ride. there will be connections to the DCEU and certain characters will making an appearance... however, for story-telling purposes, this will be in an alternate universe to Wonder Woman 1984 just because the movie has yet to be released. the main bulk of the story will be set in the 80s, with the occasional childhood flashbacks. please let me know if you want to be added onto a tag list!

♡♡♡ TWO ♡♡♡

Gotham was a bustling city, and practically lead by none other than Bruce Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises and on-going rival to Maxwell Lord. Wayne Enterprises, as an international conglomerate, was taking the world by storm under Bruce’s reign. He had shares in railway, aerospace, technology, food, and more recently; oil. Much like any other successful CEO, Bruce Wayne would do anything to see his business thrive, but at the moment, he had his eye on something very particular. He was a man with a plan. Bruce Wayne was fearless, but he knew when to be concerned, as across the country, Maxwell Lord led the biggest oil extraction company, Black Gold Cooperative.

“Mr Wayne,” his assistant, Gemma, dropped a file on his desk. A file with your name on. “Everything is here, as requested.”

Bruce Wayne flicked through your file momentarily, taking in the glossy images of you that he’d had someone take on your route to work. The file contained everything about you. From your date of birth and address, to your national security number. “Excellent,” Bruce smiled. “I will have Jeeves drive me to…” he pulled out a map that highlighted the route you took from home to work. “…Cocoa Coffee.”

“I believe she finishes at eighteen hundred hours, sir.” Gemma piped in. Bruce checked the time on his wrist watch and cursed under his breath before standing up and grabbing his coat.

“I best be on my way then.”

A lot had happened since the days you spent living in the Lord family guest house. You were now, a lot older – a young adult with ambition, but stuck working as a part-time barista in one of Gotham’s favourite coffee shops, Cocoa Coffee. You and your mother had returned to Gotham four years after moving to DC; and looking back, your time spent with the Lord family had been tainted by the day you were forced to leave.

♡

Every day was the same. You would come home from school and throw your bag on the sofa before changing into your play shoes and heading out to the gardens to see Maxwell. For him, it was similar. At 4PM sharp, he would drop whatever he was doing to come see you. His mother hated you, that much was obvious. Naomi Lord constantly scolded her son for playing with you. “The Lord family do not associate with people like that,” she would tell Maxwell. But he didn’t care. He was your best friend and you were his only friend. He went from wanting to be a successful businessman like his father, to wanting to be as free-spirited and happy as you. You inspired him and made him feel like a better person.

On the evening of Maxwell’s sixteenth birthday, you had something special planned. You wanted to lay with him in the gardens and show him the beauty of star gazing while you stuffed your faces with cake and told each other the craziest imaginative stories. At 4PM sharp, no different to usual, you slung your bag down on the sofa and slid your feet into your play shoes, and just as you were about to leave the guest house, your mother extended her arm across the front door, stopping you in your tracks.

“Sweetheart,” your mother said sadly. “Maxwell can’t play with you today.” You looked up at your mother, doe-eyed and confused. Your mother had never stopped you from playing with Maxwell. Before you could question her, she opened her mouth again. “I’ve lost my job.”

Your jaw dropped. “You- what- mom… what happened?”

Your mom shook her head, avoiding eye contact. “I’ve packed all your things. We need to leave right now.”

If you’re mother wasn’t prepared to tell you why she had been fired, the least she could do was allow you to see your best friend once more on his sixteenth birthday. “At least let me say goodbye to Max-“

“No you can’t.” Your mother’s voice grew stern. You knew, in that moment, something serious happened. “We are leaving, now.”

“But Max-“

Your mother raised her voice, barking your name angrily, and making you flinch. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. “Something awful has happened, and Maxwell… I just know the poor boy will have a lot on his plate right now. More than anyone could ever imagine. You and I… we might not have much, but we’re lucky.” Your mother’s tone of voice softened. She was clearly sad. But you became increasingly frustrated at her secrecy and not allowing you to say a final farewell to your best friend.

The sky fell dark fast, and as you left the guest house with your bags and walked down the drive way, Lord Manor was busier than you had ever seen before. An ambulance, police cars, vans from not only local news stations, but national news stations too. Flashing lights blinding you from the paparazzi cameras. Your mother dragged you into the shadows, ensuring the press didn’t see you both leave. You couldn’t help but stare, and walked on your tip-toes, trying to look over the heads and see what was going on.

There, standing outside the front door of Lord Manor was Naomi Lord and her sixteen year old son, Maxwell. Naomi was sobbing into a silk handkerchief, her hair no longer in perfect curls and her makeup smudged with tears. Standing forward slightly, all suited up, was Maxwell Lord IV. On his sixteenth birthday.

You knew this would be the last time you saw your best friend; but you wished you hadn’t seen him at all. All colour was drained out of his skin and he stood there, frozen. You whispered his name to yourself as your mother dragged you to the gates, and you felt tears brim your eyes. You didn’t want to leave him. Not without a goodbye. Maxwell looked sick. Despite dressed in one of his best designer suits, hair perfectly styled – he looked ghostly. The closer you got to the gate, the more you heard paparazzi endeavour him with questions. But it was so loud and overwhelming you could barely make out what they were saying. Gone, was the happy smiley boy you played with in the gardens. It may have been Maxwell’s sixteenth birthday, but that day marked the end of his youth. No more time for games.

♡

“Life is good, but it can be better… I’m Maxwell Lord and for a low monthly fee…” Hearing his name snapped you out of your daydreams. You looked over at the small television in the corner of the staff room, your co-worker, Theresa, smacking it with her hands in frustration.

“Remote not working again?” You sighed, putting a hand on your hip and watching her struggle to change the channel. You couldn’t help but smile as she let out an exasperated groan.

“Welcome to Black Gold Cooperative! The world’s first oil company run for the people, by the people. You can own a piece of the most lucrative industry in the world. And every time we strike gold, you strike gold.” You felt your lips twist in disgust at how artificial your childhood friend was sounding. You couldn’t even bare to look at him. His face was everywhere.

“Every time we strike gold, you strike gold,” you badly mimicked his iconic line. It was the company slogan. Rolling your eyes, you walked out of the staff room and to the front-of-house. You heard Theresa throw the remote in frustration and suddenly, Maxwell Lord shut up. You smiled as Theresa followed you behind the bar. At least she had managed to turn the television off.

“You really don’t like him, do you?” Theresa asked almost rhetorically. It was true, you didn’t like Maxwell Lord. Simply because he wasn’t the little boy you played with in the gardens of Lord Manor. You knew you shouldn’t have held resentment. Everyone changes as they get older – but Maxwell Lord was just so easy to hate. Max’s carefree spirit died the day you left, and the smarmy salesman Maxwell Lord IV was not someone you cared for. For months after you moved back to Gotham, you waited for some kind of communication from Max. But nothing. And it became clear that Maxwell was happy enough to throw away the four year friendship you had shared together. Your silence prompted Theresa to continue. “He’s handsome though, in a way.” You spluttered at her sudden confession and Theresa just laughed. “Rich…powerful…” she went on.

“He’s an asshole.” You stated, as blunt as ever.

“You know him?” Theresa quizzed. “Hmm?”

“No but-“ You stopped yourself. “I know enough about him.”

“His fiancée is a lucky gal,” Theresa sighed, and you found yourself completely taken aback.

“Wait. Fiancée?” There was no way.

“Do you even read People Magazine?” Theresa scoffed, shaking her head as if this was common knowledge. You spent every living day trying to avoid Maxwell Lord after the way he and his family had hurt you and your mother. But of course, his presence followed you everywhere. Whether it be his enormous head hanging over the highway on bulletin boards or his infomercials that were broadcasted on every channel, at the same time, every evening.

“You got this information from a tabloid?” You rolled your eyes.

“Why do you find it so hard to believe that Maxwell Lord has a fiancée?” Theresa made a point. Sure, Maxwell Lord was charming… but in a cold, sick and twisted kind of way.

You took a deep breath. “I don’t it’s just-“

“Oh shoot, look at the time! I gotta pick the kids up from school. They’re at an arts club, you see. Would you mind tidying and closing the shop tonight?” Theresa gasped, although it wasn’t as much a question as it was a statement. She thrusted a sweeping brush into your arms and in a frenzy, was out of the coffee shop within a minute.

It was the hottest summer you could ever remember. Golden rays of sunlight beamed through the large windows, the heat making your hair stick to your forehead as you puffed your cheeks out. Tiredly, you loosened the ribbon that was holding together your apron and continued to sweep the floor and wipe down the tables. It had been a long day, but the end of the month meant you were getting your pay check. Just as you were about to close-up Cocoa Coffee, you heard the bell jingle as the front door opened.

“Oh I’m sorry we’re clo-“ you said before stopping and taking in the sight that was Bruce Wayne. If Theresa was still here, she would’ve lost her mind. Not quite Maxwell Lord, but another rich businessman; seemingly, just her type. The CEO of Wayne Enterprises. He was a black silhouette, standing in front of the setting sun, but despite being hidden by a casted shadow, you could recognise him anywhere. During your time at Lord Manor, you had grown up hearing a lot about the Wayne family. You froze, staring at him with anti-bacterial spray in one hand and a cloth in the other. Bruce took a step forward, grinning at you. “Mr- Mr Wayne…” you found yourself stumbling over your words. “How may I help you?”

“I’ve been watching you for some time now,” Bruce said darkly, breaking any distance between you both. You looked up at the businessman feeling somewhat intimidated. “You’re the girl who has been making my lattes every day for two years.” Like the flick of a light switch, his tone of voice changed to be more cheery, but you were still taken off-guard.

“I- I have? I’ve never seen you before.” You replied, bewilderment dripping from your tongue. Sure, you had seen Bruce Wayne make headlines but you had never seen him in real life before. “I mean. I’ve seen you. On uh, Forbes right? Front page?”

“Not this year,” Bruce sighed, and removed his sunglasses. “Some other scam artist took my place.” Immediately you felt a sense of dread, and you hoped you hadn’t done anything to piss him off. Bruce turned around and pointed to a black car with tinted windows, parked outside of the coffee shop.

“I’m sorry.” You bit your lip awkwardly. Bruce just shook his head, a light chuckle escaping his lips as he went to continue on his opening statement.

“I sit in the front seat while my assistant grabs my coffee,” Bruce explained, still pointing at the car outside, and you breathed out a little ‘ah’ whilst nodding somewhat understandably. You did not want to get on Bruce Wayne’s bad side, that’s for sure. “And I must admit, not a day has gone by where I haven’t been mesmerised by your beauty.” You felt your cheeks flush with heat at his compliment. You couldn’t help but remain silent, thus prompting Bruce to continue. “See, I’m actually a shy guy,” Bruce said, but his charm and fluency made you feel as though he wasn’t entirely being truthful. There was no way you could question the multi-billionaire. “And after a lot of persuasion from my assistant… well, I’m here to ask you out.”

You blinked, completely taken aback. You were just about to end your shift playing barista for the day when the Bruce Wayne had come into Cocoa Coffee saying all these nice things. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t make sense of it all. Had he gotten the right person? He recognised you, so he really must be wanting you. So many thoughts raced through your head. Something felt off immediately, but you knew you could never deny Bruce Wayne a date. “I- uhm-“ you stumbled on your words and found Bruce looking nervous, awaiting your response. “Okay.” you accepted his proposal, and his worried frown turned into a beaming smile.

“Great!” He cheered. “I will have someone pick you up on Sunday afternoon. Don’t worry, I know where you live.”

Brushing past his comment about knowing your address, you raised a finger. “Uhm, where will we be going?”

“DC.” Those two letters made your heart sink into your chest. It had been years since you had last step foot in DC and you didn’t exactly associate the capital city with the fondest of memories. “I have business there. That’s not an issue, is it?”

Was it?

“No, of course not Mr Way- I mean Bruce.”

“Great, I will see you Sunday. Dress formal. I know the most amazing restaurant we can go to. They do the best martinis.”

♡

Maxwell Lord IV zipped up his pants and sunk into his office chair, regaining his breath. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and fixed his hair the best he could, before looking down at his secretary who was still on her hands and knees under his desk, looking up at him, waiting for his next instruction. Maxwell simply opened his desk drawer and threw her a silk cloth to wipe away the mess he had painted her face with. “Same time tomorrow.” He said, not even bothering to make eye contact with her. “Wear that same lipstick too.”

“Yes sir.” She replied, shakily standing up.

“You are free to leave now,” Maxwell told his secretary. “What do you say?”

“Th-thank you sir.”

His secretary scurried out of his office and once more, Maxwell was alone. He spun around in his chair and looked at the framed magazine cover, hanging on the wall behind him. There he was. He had made it to the front page of Forbes. Richest man in the world. He was loved. He was feared. He was Maxwell Lord IV.

♡♡♡ TAGLIST ♡♡♡

@mrschiltoncat​

[nalgenewhore]

A rogue storm had her presumed dead and stranded on the red planet. Left on her own, astronaut Aelin Galathynius has four years to make it to the next drop-site, some two thousand miles. Armed with her smarts and dwindling supplies, Aelin attempts to survive on an inhospitable planet, when the nearest help is only millions of miles away.

masterlist - ao3 - last chapter - next chapter 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Her question stared at them.

LTN: How’d the crew take it when they found out I was alive?

She typed a new one,

LTN: Are you there? 

Sartaq whispered to Gavriel, “She needs to know now.”

Gavriel swallowed, hard, and ignored the fact that his hands were shaking as he replied.

TNSB: We haven’t told the crew you’re alive.

TNSB: We need them to stay focused on the mission.

It took awhile for her to respond and when she did…

LTN: They don’t know I’m alive?

LTN: What the fuck is wrong with you?

LTN: Are you fucking shitting me right now?

LTN: If you are, fuck you, that shit’s not funny.

Uneasy laughter erupted across the room and Gavriel hastily answered.

TNSB: Aelin, please, watch your language

TNSB: This conversation is being broadcasted worldwide

LTN: Oh worldwide, really?

LTN: Worldwide can suck my fucking dick

LTN: I’m stranded on a fucking planet and my crew thinks I’m dead and you want me to watch my language?

LTN: Get fucked

 +*+*+*+*+*+*

Manon walked into Weylan’s office with Asterin, a look of ‘I told you so’ on her face. He held up a finger and pointed to the phone, speaking into it, “Yes, ma’am. Yes, I agree. She’s under a lot of stress… we understand. We’re dealing with it… Thank you, ma’am.”

He hung up and looked at Manon, “I just had to apologize to the gods-damned prime minister of Terrasen for Aelin’s crass language. What is it?”

“Aelin is right. It’s only going to get worse the longer we wait.”

“You’re only bringing this up because Gavriel’s in Perranth and can’t argue against it,” Weylan commented, a determined set to his jaw.

Manon made a sound of disgust, “I shouldn’t have to clear it with Gavriel or anyone else for that matter, not even you. It’s time, Weylan.”

 +*+*+*+*+*+*

Lorcan was in the ship’s gym, raising himself to the bar and lowering himself again, sweat running down his body.

He had his earbuds in and the music stopped, Nesryn’s voice coming through, “Commander?”

Dropping to the floor and landing neatly, he grabbed the hand towel and wiped his face, breathing hard, “Go ahead, Faliq.”

“Data dump is almost complete,” she said, referencing the private emails and other things that the crew had been sent.

“Copy. Coming to you.” He entered the zero-gravity corridor, rendezvousing with Fenrys, “You look like you’re in a hurry.”

The man grinned a giddy grin, “Nehemia had her six-month ultrasound yesterday, she said she’d sent the pictures.”

Lorcan smiled easily, he was happy for the couple. “Tell her congrats for me and also send along my condolences.”

Fenrys furrowed his brow as he pushed himself forward using the rungs alongside the walls, “Why condolences?”

“Because it’s probably just set in that she’s having your child,” he laughed and easily evaded Fenrys’ poor attempt to hit him as the rotating craft synthesized gravity and they slid down to the rec room, where everyone had gathered.

Lorcan paused by Elide, where she was sitting curled on a couch with her personal laptop on her lap, to crouch before her and take her hand in both of his, murmuring words too low for the rest of the crew to hear.

Nesryn addressed everyone, “Dump is complete and sending out personals right… now. I don’t need to see Fen’s weird pregnancy fetish shit; I’m scarred for life after the incident.” The incident in question was when Nesryn had accidentally mixed up an email and had opened his and Nehemia’s rather… heated conversation. Rowan huffed a laugh at the memory and everyone shared a look; this was the happiest they’d seen him in the three months since they’d aborted the mission without Aelin.

Fenrys groaned, “I told you, second trimester hormones are a bitch.”

“Whatever does it for you, just keep me out of it,” she said, laughter in her dark eyes, “Oh, huh. There’s a video message from Manon, addressed to the whole crew.”

Everyone made their way over to the computer, crowding around as Nesryn clicked on the video.

Manon’s face appeared on the screen and the video began to play, her voice coming through the speakers, “Lani, this is Manon Blackbeak. I have some news to share, there’s no easy way to put this: Aelin Galathynius is alive.”

The knowledge hit the crew like a freight train at full speed and they remained in shock as the message continued, “We know that’s a big surprise and you’ll have a lot of questions but as for the basics: she’s healthy and alive. We found out two months ago and I was ordered not to tell you. We’re telling you now because we have reliable communication with her and a rescue plan. We’ll send you a full write-up of what happened but know that this is not your fault. Aelin has heavily stressed this: it is not your fault. Take time to absorb this, your schedules have been cleared for the next two days. Send all your questions and we’ll answer them. Blackbeak out.”

“She’s…she’s alive?” Elide whispered, voice barely heard.

Fenrys was the first to crack, a slow smile spreading across his face, relief in his eyes, “G-Money lives.”

Nesryn and Elide both huffed laughs and the latter wiped her eyes, shaking their heads. “She’s alive,” Nesryn confirmed, a ghost of a smile on her face.

They all turned to Rowan, his façade slipping enough that there was an upwards tilt to the corners of his mouth. “Holy shit.” The doctor turned to Lorcan, who had remained silent, “Lor?”

“I left her behind.”

Fenrys shook his head decidedly, “We all left, L. All of us.”

The stone-faced commander clenched his jaw, his brow furrowing, “You were following orders.” His eyes shattered and when Elide reached for his hand, he shifted, keeping his gaze on the computer screen. “I left her.”

The group traded glances, not sure what to say. Elide rested her hand on his bicep and without another word, he shook off her hold and exited the room.

 +*+*+*+*+*+*

Nesryn wasn’t paying attention and her wife could tell. The green-eyed beauty paused in her retelling of their teenaged daughter’s, Evangeline, first date. “Nes?”

“Hmm?”

Lysandra chuckled, “You still there?”

“Oh,” Nesryn sat up straighter and smiled sheepishly at Lysandra, nodding, “yeah, it’s just… been a long day. Weird day too.”

Her wife tilted her head to the side, her brilliant eyes missing nothing, “You okay? Want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” she said, her smile growing as a redheaded girl popped her head upside down in the frame, her citrine eyes pressed up against the camera.

“Mama!” Evangeline sat down on the couch next to Lysandra, the fifteen-year-old wearing Nesryn’s TNSB hoodie, the scarred-over slashes on her cheeks stretching as she grinned. She pressed her hand against the screen and Nesryn copied the motion, her eyes watering.

“Hi, my darling,” she whispered, “how are you?”

“I’m good. I miss you, Ma,” she pouted, but soon enough her lips pulled into that brilliant smile of hers again, “I can’t wait to see you.”

“I miss the both of you so much and I can’t wait to see you either,” Nesryn replied, the sight of her family so happy and healthy mending her heart, even if it was just a bit. “Evie, your mother tells me you went on a date?”

Lysandra and Nesryn laughed as their daughter’s cheeks went bright red, her scars stark white against her flushed skin. “…maybe.”

“Tell me all about it.”

“Are you sure? It was a boy,” Evangeline said, a wrinkle to her button nose.

Nesryn faked a gagging sound and inhaled deeply, “I think I can handle it.”

The joyful chatter of their daughter soon spilled from the speakers and Nesryn gave her wife a soft look, mouthing I love you as she let the perfectness of her two favourite people in the world wash over her and strip away the day’s events. 

 +*+*+*+*+*+*

When Lorcan didn’t return for the rest of the night, the sadness that had erupted in Elide’s chest turned to anger and she sought him out, finding him in his bunk, staring at nothing.

He didn’t acknowledge her as she climbed up so she did what any sensible person would do.

She jabbed him in the side with her index and middle finger, finding the soft flesh beneath his ribcage, glaring at him when he cried out in shock and pain. He met her angered gaze with one of his own, irritation rippling in his dark irises beneath lowered brows. 

Elide shook her head, “Don’t know why the fuck you’re pissy with me now.”

He sighed, “What do you want?”

She raised a brow, tilting her head to the side and tracking his face with watchful eyes. “You’re being a dick and I’m not putting up with it so…” she made to leave, blinking back tears, but his hand shot out and wrapped around hers.

“Don’t go, I’m sorry,” he said, tugging her back into his lap. The bunk was already a tight fit for Lorcan, who at six-foot-four and two-hundred and ten pounds was at the maximum size restrictions to be an astronaut, so with Elide as well, it became even smaller. “I’m sorry.”

“You keep saying that,” she murmured, twisting to straddle his lap and brush his hair back from his eyes. “Why do you keep saying that?”

“Because I left the woman my brother loves on a planet, with practically no way to survive. Fuck,” he muttered, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the wall. “I don’t- I love you so much. I can barely breathe right without knowing you’re safe and I… I can’t help feeling guilty for condemning her to death. El.” He opened his eyes and flicked his gaze down to her necklace, where his dog tags laid between her breasts. The weight of her mother’s wedding band hanging on his own necklace had never felt more pronounced. “She might die, alright? And if she does, it will be my fault and I just… I can’t live with the knowledge of breaking Rowan’s heart like that.”

He took a deep breath, not used to speaking that much all at once. Elide offered him a gentle smile and framed his face with her hands, her eyes searching his, “I love you so much. Right now, Ae is alive and healthy, ok? That’s all we need to think about right now. If she dies, it will never be your fault and yes, it will hurt so much – more than anything. If she dies, the whole crew will be broken. We’ll be there for each other and for Ro, too.” She pressed her lips to his, kissing him so softly, it was heartbreaking. “Ok?”

All Lorcan could do was cup the back of her head and kiss her harder, selfishly thanking every god that it wasn’t Elide in Aelin’s place.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

an: welp....now they know! and as always, lovies, comment/send me an ask to be added/removed from the tag list! 

@mythicaitt​ @kandasboi​ @schmlip-scribble​ @the-regal-warrior​ @westofmoon​ @empire-of-wildfire​ @rhysands-highlady​ @city-of-fae​ @shyvioletcat​ @alifletcher2012​ @tangledraysofsunshine​ @ttakeitbacknoww​ @tswaney17​ @ourbooksuniverse​ @flora-and-fae​ @queenofxhearts​ @that-other-pineapple​ @sleeping-and-books​ @superspiritfestival​ @faerie-queen-fireheart​ @chemicha​ @rowaelin-cressworth​ @mynewdreamwasyou​ @candid-confetti​ @bat-wing-rhys​ @the-reading-obsessed-stitchbear​ @feyrethedarklady​ @booklover41802​ @rowaelinforeverworld​ @jamesxdaisy​ @julemmaes​ @hellas-himself​

[jasontoddiefor]

The beginning of the Tiny Emperor Luke AU Alternatively: Vader goes to Tatooine and has his first break down of many.

Tumblr tag | AO3

The anger had been boiling beneath his skin ever since they had left Coruscant. The memory of kneeling in front of his Master had twisted and broken into a thousand different instances Skywalker had been too weak to conquer his enemies and turn them to dust. Even now, as the ship fell out of hyperspace, he could hear his Master’s words haunting him, feel the lightning crack over the wounds Kenobi had left on his body.

“We are approaching Tatooine, Lord Vader,” the navigator stated as if Vader wouldn’t be able to pick out Tatooine amongst a hundred planets on sight alone. “The palace of Jabba the Hutt has given permission for you to land. The next course is already set and we will proceed without you then.”

Tatooine.

Vader knew what he was doing here and it had absolutely nothing to do with politics and everything with the Emperor seeing it fit to punish him for his latest transgression. Like the Jedi, the Emperor had seen it fit to muzzle him, take any inquiries to his reign as a personal insult. The chains around his ankles were heavy, dragged him down into the sand. Being sent to Tatooine was supposed to serve as a harsh reminder of who he used to be and who he still was, the possession of a Master he was better off not disobeying.

“Do not disappoint the Emperor without my leadership,” Vader said before he promptly turned around and made his way to the ship hanger.

He was supposed to negotiate with Jabba on the Empire’s use of hyperlanes since he had been so successful with it the last time. The last time he also hadn’t been clinging to his rage alone, his body in severe need of maintenance, yet another thing the Emperor had denied him as a punishment. He was to talk to that pest of a slug first before he was given off time to heal at Mustafar while his men were sent halfway across the galaxy to fight a completely senseless battle guaranteed to become a slaughter. His crew would need replacements, more spies for the Emperor to send abroad his ship.

By the time Vader was landing his ship on Tatooine’s sands, he had managed to regulate his anger enough to avoid setting Jabba’s palace on fire the moment he set his eyes on it. Two guards and an almost ruined protocol droid greeted him.

“Lord Vader, we welcome you to the palace of the great Jabba,” the protocol droid chattered away.

Vader ignored it and marched past the gates, not waiting for the hired guards to lead him in. He wanted to get off this planet as soon as possible, rid himself of the dust already beginning to cling to his damaged skin.

It reminded him of all the times Skywalker was forced to race as a child, crashed to the ground with sand filling his nostrils and mouth, depriving him of air in the most painful way of drowning. Choking on water, on life, could never be as cruel as your lungs filling with stone.

Thankfully, Jabba’s palace was cleaner, likely due to the many slaves he kept. He flaunted his wealth and acquisitions, paraded them around like decor.

The protocol droid that had been waiting for him now rushed to Jabba’s side as the crime lord began to speak.

“The mighty Jabba greets you, Lord Vader,” the protocol droid translated.

Vader would snort if he could. The droid’s translations were quite loose, entirely ignoring the insults that didn’t translate well into basic.

“The Empire thanks you for your kind welcoming, great Jabba. The Emperor is the most pleased to hear you are considering opening your hyperlanes,” Vader told Jabba, the words sounding horribly rehearsed in his mind.

This was not Vader’s doing. He’d never speak to a Hutt. They ought to be slaughtered, put down and cut into pieces, disposed off like trash. Vader could negotiate, bargain and haggle like the best of them when he wanted to, but they didn’t deserve it. No slaver did.

“The powerful Jabba has a gift for you, a sign of goodwill, so that the negotiations may start on a positive note,” the droid continued. “Bring the child.”

One of Jabba’s many slaves, an already elder Twi’lek woman, bowed and hurried off. Only moments later she returned with a small human child trailing behind her, being pulled along by the guards. The boy couldn’t be older than ten and every step seemed to pain him, no surprise really going by the heavy chains wrung around his neck and wrists and how blue his ankles were. It seemed excessive for a child of such a delicate built.

“This is a Jedi child for you, personally, found hidden in the desert.”

A Force-sensitive child on this Force-forsaken hell pit was interesting, but overall not all that important. It was certainly not enough to buy Jabba the advantage he was aiming for, not with how much Vader despised this planet.

“Given the benefits the Empire would grand you, one would expect a greater gift,” Vader said.

Could he speak properly, he knew his tone would be scathing, but the respirator made it sound flat. This was perhaps one of those few brief moments he had almost accepted the machine inserted in his throat.

“Yes, yes, but this gift is just for you Lord Vader. Introduce yourself, child!” The Hutt snarled where the droid only fearfully intoned.

The boy’s eyes were unfocused. The child was completely out of it, likely from the blood loss. His clothes were covered by an excessive amount of it, the blood couldn’t belong to him alone or he’d be dead already.

“I have no use for a child,” Vader finally said.

The boy might make a good Inquisitor still, but Vader wasn’t too keen on handing the Emperor yet another tool that could be sharpened to cut his own throat.

“No, you will want this one, I am sure,” Jabba insisted. “I met his father himself, Jedi plague that he was. Get that child to speak!”

One of the guards smacked the boy across the cheek, harsh enough that it probably would have sent him flying if not for the older woman holding him steady. She bowed down too, brushed his hair out of his face, as gently as she was allowed to in these circumstances.

"The desert is coming soon, dear one,” the woman said. “Tell me your name, I’ll remember it.”

The boy leaned towards the woman’s half-embrace.

“’m Luke Skywalker,” the boy breathed, his voice was barely above a whisper, but to Vader it sounded like someone was screaming.

“See?” Jabba proclaimed gleefully. “A Jedi child, as promised.”

The walls of the room began to crack, deep tears slowly tore them apart.

“What lies,” Vader snarled like krayt dragon, howled like a storm, “are you spreading, you pathetic bastard!”

He deserved nothing less than death, slow torture, his skin being stripped off his body, layer by layer, forcing him to bleed while he watched his kingdom burn. Vader reached up with his hand, grabbing Jabba’s throat with the Force as all around him Mustafar reigned supreme. The bounty hunters raised their weapons to shoot him, laughable attempts at stopping him from taking his revenge.

Jabba would pay for his transgressions, for his lies, his attempt at deceiving Vader, for making him think the child of-

“-Anakin, child of Shmi,” the boy said, entirely unaware of his surroundings as his voice broke more and more. “I’m freeborn, I’m free, you can’t take me, you can’t-“

The boy tore at his chains again and Vader felt like his Master was tearing at his- no- the boy’s, the child who knew of Anakin, who knew the name of Shmi Skywalker, raised on Tatooine- those chains they were not-

They weren’t Vader’s chains, they belonged to the child. All the torture Vader had been exposed to ever since he stepped on Tatooine were but shallow echoes of the child’s agony. He was broadcasting in the Force and Vader had picked up on it, a connection snapping into place.

(“A short name, something that rolls quickly off your tongue because Skywalker is such a long name already.”

“Wait, the baby gets my last name? Who decided that?”

“Your wife, my dear-“)

His name was Luke Skywalker and he was Vader’s. It should be impossible, but Vader knew it. He felt it in the Force, a truth so bright and perfect it threatened to shatter his mind.

His baby, his child, his son, still breathing, still alive and enslaved like his father had been, as if his mother’s blood was worth nothing.

Vader closed his fist and Jabba died, sinking into himself as all around them the screaming began. Vader didn’t care, he only had one goal. He had to get to his child, make sure he was safe, that he was alright, that he was real and his to keep.

The bounty hunters and all the other scum in Jabba’s halls were no threat to Vader and they’d never be again, soon lying on the ground like broken dolls, lifeless eyes staring into nothing.

The Twi’lek woman was clinging to his son, fear written all over her face as she pressed his child’s face to her chest so he wouldn’t see. The guards’ blood stood out against her skin and she was still holding onto his child, forcing Vader away from his son.

Vader raised his lightsaber to do away with her like all the others-

“Please,” she begged. “Master, please. We’ll do everything, I can dance, he’s just a child, we-”

Are just slaves.

He depowered his lightsaber.

“Give me my child,” Vader ordered. “Now.”

Slowly, she released her hold on his son and finally gave him to Vader. He couldn’t stand upright so he fell right into Vader’s arms, unconscious by now but still here.

He was so small. So frail.

Had anyone else found him, he would be dead or hold over Vader’s head like a bargaining chip. He couldn’t allow this. Nobody would hurt his son ever again. His child had been supposed to be raised in the Empire’s glory, knowing that all of this had been created for him.

“You will not lose a word about what happened here,” Vader told the Twi’lek woman, not bothering to even look at her. “Jabba was a traitor to the Empire and tried to have me killed. You will tell this to everyone who asks, nothing more and nothing less.”

“Y-yes, my Lord,” the woman stuttered.

“Then you have freed yourself. Go.”

She didn’t need to be told twice. With one last quick glance at his child, she ran off.

Vader slowly rose from his knees, Luke in his arms. He walked out of the palace on autopilot, mindful not to move his son and worsen his injuries. The coordinates for Mustafar were already in the system, they had to leave this planet immediately. His child wouldn’t spend another minute here.

Luke Skywalker, child of Anakin, child of Shmi.

His perfect son, enduring hell, but surviving despite it all. He was so strong, much more than he ever should have to be. Vader had been supposed to be at his side, protect him against all harm, but he hadn’t been there because of the Emperor.

The Emperor had told him that Padmé had died. He was a liar, the reason his son had suffered needlessly and he would pay for it with his life.

“Every planet,” Vader said as he carefully pushed a strand of hair out of his son’s face. He wondered which color his hair had, his eyes. Were they a soft brown like Padmé’s or had he inherited his own sky blue ones? “Every star, every single grain of sand, it’ll all be yours as it always should have been.”

His mother had whispered those words to him every night, promises of her love and adoration. She hadn’t been able to give him more than that and perhaps Vader hadn’t deserved even that, but Luke did. Everything Vader could give him and more.

“Everything,” Vader repeated. “It’ll all be yours. I promise.”

He would ensure it.

[nightstalkerhunterguardian]

Tragedy

I keep coming up with in-between scenarios while writing other shit so I mean. 

Here’s another one. 

TW: descriptions of gore

Songs listened to: Panic Room by Au/Ra

Bottom of the River by Delta Rae

Go fuck yourself by Two Feet

-

The idea that they’d one day have to return to the surface of the moon only crossed Kano’s head in a hypothetical sense. She thought she had let go of what happened. Let go of the memory of Crota, of Oryx, of the Dreadnaught, of the bodies of Awoken floating out in the vacuum of space. 

PTSD was common among veteran Guardians, but few seldom talked out about it. It was almost like it all wordlessly bonded them in a sense and they had hoped that what they did on the moon would save the newer generation of Guardians the mind-numbing trauma of what had happened so long ago. 

They were wrong. 

-

She shut down once they entered the moon’s atmosphere. KillShot knew. He could tell by the way her eyes dulled. She had gotten good at shutting down in her years as a Guardian and as necessary as he knew it was, he hated it so damn badly because it took so much after the fact to tell her that she was still a person, that she still was more than a weapon or a soldier, that she was something and someone that mattered. 

She never believed it. 

She wasn’t brought back because she was special or she was unique or any other optimistic reason that Killshot tried to convincer her of. 

Her existence was a tool to ward off tragedy. 

Ironic is how she saw it. 

How was one tragedy supposed to fight off another?

The tag that Drifter had wound in her hair brushed gently against her jawline, along with the small jade charm that hung at the end of the tassel. Whether she was a joke to him or he was trying to make a point, she never bothered to ask but for some reason, she couldn't find it in her to take it out, no matter how many times she cut her hair. The tag remained. 

Landing on the moon and transmatting to the surface made her stomach lurch and she wanted to throw up in her helmet but she held it down and made her way through the base, Thorn in her hand. 

She had received an earful from numerous people over the gun she now kept at her side, but she refused to listen to any of it. It did it’s job and so did she. 

They were red. Covered in thorns and filled with something far deeper than rage or pure animalistic instinct. It seemed almost symbolic. Religious. 

It didn’t matter to her. 

Thorns jutted viciously up each hive body she dropped and she walked by each corpse as if something corrupted didn't follow her with each shot. Like she herself wasn’t becoming something vicious while wrapped in her own cocoon of pain and loneliness and fading sanity. 

Times like this, she really wished the man with the golden gun would've taken the shot at her when he had the chance. But maybe he knew she’d become this. He had to of.

The path she traveled the farther she went slowly became emptier as she passed through a haze and into a cleared path, overlooked by a cliff. 

A cliff with something looking at her atop it. 

A sharp pang of something hit her hard in her stomach before crawling into her chest, making her gasp for air and tears blur her vision. Killshot quickly makes his way to her side, scanning her over to check her. 

“What is it? What’s wrong?” he asks, panicked, despite how something feels wrong to him too. 

Her line of sight goes back up to the cliff above, looking at the figures floating ominously, hovering as if they were watching them. 

It felt like an overwhelming amount of panic and sadness and distress was spreading through her chest cavity, crushing her lungs and threatening to break her ribs just to escape and she clawed at the ground below to try to get a hold of herself. 

Her legs were shaky by the time she was able to pull herself up from her knees and continue along the steep path, the looming figures still watching them. 

The sudden wave of scarlet hive that appeared didn't surprise her, each bullet and grenade hitting its mark and clearing the area as they approached the hazy red aura at the edge of the cliff. 

Memories quickly flashed behind her eyes when she reached her hand out to touch it and suddenly, she realized it wasn’t a memory. 

It was real. 

A nightmare that was supposed to remain in the past. 

It was here. 

-

The rapid haze of black and white and green that obscured her vision soon spat her out in a giant scarlet room, large barbs and broken stone surrounding them.

“Eris Morn...” she murmured, slowly approaching.

If there was anyone in the ‘verse that she felt an unspoken relation to, it was Eris. The primary difference between them, however, was Eris’s will to live. Her continuous fight to survive in spite of her tragedy.

Kano was ready to let it kill and consume her.

Maybe that’s why Eris was willing to share the memories of her fallen friends. To show that it was possible to overcome. Accept. That there was something to live for in the smoldering ashes of tragedy and pain.

It was...revealing to say the least and Kano couldn’t imagine how it felt for Eris to admit to the ache in her being while nightmares of her comrades loomed over her shoulder but she also noticed how she would stand a little straighter each time she remembered them. Their quirks and personalities. She hunched less as if the box she had been closed into was slowly expanding and she could stretch more and more.

Kano was proud of her. There was no denying that. She remembered when she first met her in the old tower, how she stayed crowded in a corner beside the staircase and muttered often of the growing threat of the taken and hive. The eerie green glow that emanated from where her eyes should’ve been was captivating in a way Kano couldn’t describe but she also didn’t seem to be very fond of company, so she kept her distance.

The talk that ensued between her, Eris, and Ikora had another type of whisper creeping into her head but she ignored it, at least for now.

She knew it would come back.

-

The chiming of metal was slow. Periodic. It followed a slow but sickening rhythm that only ever made anyone within earshot uncomfortable.

Only KillShot could hear it, though.

Had he any other choice, he’d simply leave, fade away in shimmering blue and white vapor. But there was a problem.

His Guardian was hanging from those same chains.

The twisted lengths the Hive would go to to experiment and make examples of Guardians was, in short, disgusting and to see that same hostility and viciousness taken out on his Guardian made it worse.

Kano’s body had stopped swinging by now, the chains having settled finally in the silence of the dim green halls. He could rez her but it wouldn’t do any good. The hooks they had used to hang her form from the ceiling needed to be removed or else she’d simply come back in the same excruciating pain she suffered before succumbing to the torture.

A hook was driven through the palms of each of her hands, spreading her arms out wide to her sides. A much larger hook had been driven through her back and was jutting from her chest, supporting most of her weight and keeping her body suspended in what could only be described as a sadistic mockery of a crucifixion.

It made KillShot want to be sick in ways he didn’t have a body for.

He tried to cut through the chains as best he could, managing to free one arm with a strong enough beam of laser light before moving onto the next, listening out for approaching Hive through the halls.

The clanking of the metal was loud against her limp form but it was overtaken by the sound of Knight footsteps thumping against the floor and crushing old bone beneath its approaching feet. KillShot quickly hid in Kano’s hood, nestling into her black hair.

It approaches, dragging its sword with it. A metal screech. A warped growl. And slowly, the footsteps leave. He peeks from the curtain of black hair he’s hidden in and emerges once the threat is gone, doing his best to cut through the large chain until finally, the chain breaks and his Guardian falls down into the pile of bone below, the crunch following indecipherable between her bones or the ones her body falls atop.

He won’t deny being panicked. Scared. They’re alone in the dark below the moon’s surface. They have no team. But he settles himself and broadcasts out a message as far as the suffocating Hive around them will allow it to travel.

“If anybody can hear this message, my Guardian is down. We are in need of assistance. Please, if you can lock onto my signal, we are in need of help. There are potential threats lingering and my Guardian is down.”

He sends the signal out and waits, staying hidden alongside his Guardian’s body.

Time passes and fear begins to set in. He needs to rez her but the hooks remain. Her helmet stays on but he can see the splatter of blood on the inside from when she had been choking on it.

Gunfire sounds off down the hall. It’s not loud and thundering like Hive boomers. It’s quick, cracking, and from the shrieks sounding after each shot, it’s hitting its targets. Rapid taps follow. Running.

Is that...? Did somebody catch his signal?

Red.

He sees red. But it’s not threatening and he realizes who it is. He rises from his spot and greets the Guardian who meets him, head turning to the body.

“Attack! I-I...” KillShot gathers himself for a second. “I can’t get the hooks out. I can’t rez her like this or she’ll just die again and-“ but the Guardian holds his hand up and nods, holstering his gun.

“It’s okay. I’m here to help”. He simply nods and glides aside, letting him approach her body as he takes her hand and begins working the jagged metal from the flesh. The squelching and popping makes him shudder but he allows Attack to pull the metal away and toss it aside before working on the other hand.

“You’re okay, buddy”, Attack says and the small ghost turns to him. “It’s gonna be okay. Luckily, worm rot hasn’t made it to her”. The reassurance sounds grim but it still works. Another clatter and he pulls the body up by the shoulders, surveying the damage before propping her up and crouching behind her.

“I’m gonna have to pull the hook through”, he sighs. “I can cut off the back and just pull out that half though”. He pulls out his knife and it glows with solar light that manages to cut through the metal quickly. He sheathes the blade and grabs the end jutting from her chest. Her back is leaned against his chest and he pulls her towards him while pushing against the hook and after a moment of stomach turning slick and sticky sounding shuffling, the hook finally clatters against the bone and floor.

KillShot is already scanning over her body and a shutter rattles through her chest before she jolts up, gasping.

“Welcome back, kid”, he says, clapping a hand against her shoulder. “You got put through the fuckin’ wringer by the looks of it”.

Her breathing is heavy and her hands clench in the remains beneath.

“When did you get here?” She asks, ignoring the comment. He nods his head to KillShot.

“Your friend sent out an SOS and I managed to catch it”.

She swallows and the taste of blood is still thick in her mouth.

She’s frustrated and it’s clear to see. The torture she’d been subjected to was agonizing to say the least and she stood from her spot, kicking the hook down the hall, making it bounce off the floor.

Attack says nothing and simply watches her pull Thorn from her hip in a grip that makes her gloves squeak under her hold.

Between the whispers in her head, the looming shadows hovering above, and the nightmares resurfacing, she was breaking.

She screamed. At nothing, at nobody. Just screamed.

-

In front of her, she can see Eris flinch away from her nightmares. She’s seated on the top of the small building across from her, cigarette hanging from her lips. She doesn’t know that her cigarette is halfway burnt up, the ash never falling while the smoke swirls over her head.

She doesn’t flinch away or even look when a familiar form seats itself beside her. All she does is hold her lit lighter to him for a moment. A puff of smoke makes her pocket the lighter and she otherwise remains still, gaze fixed on nothing until a small veil of light washes over her eyes and she looks up at the now unblurry form of Eris, flinching away from the remaining shadows that loom beside her.

She can feel the tag in her hair move as Attack takes a look at the writing on it before grasping the charm that hangs from the tassel at the end. It’s a snake. Of course it is. There’s no surprise in the carving itself but the detail and time put into it is something to take a moment to gander at. Each scale is clear and smooth and the way it coils around itself is mesmerizing for such a small object.

“...Tragedy”, she mumbles. Attack glances at her as the ash of her cigarette finally falls to dust on her thigh. “...it says tragedy”.

“That so?” He asks. She simply nods and the tag swings below her jaw when he lets it go. “Not one to make assumptions but the snake on it kinda hints at who gave you that”. Another nod confirms his guess.

“...don’t really enjoy giving credit to a man that reads people like cheap books but I suppose he makes his points when needed”, she says, breathing out a cloud of smoke. “More so when he’s right”.

He’d like to make a quip. A snippy remark, a sarcastic jab. Anything to lighten the mood but there isn’t much to work with at the moment, so he settles for taking another drag of his cigarette.

“...We never should’ve come here”.

There’s truth in what she says. Human nature demands that curiosity be sated at the cost of what may become of it. She knows it, he knows it, but it’s too late for knowing. The damage was done too long ago for regrets to form. The slump in her shoulders says she’s already carrying the weight of too many, some she can’t even recall in a life she isn’t privy to.

The butt of her cigarette is flicked away and her hand comes up to rub against her chest with a frown etched into her face. The convenience of remembering each death she had endured yet not being able to remember her final death from before seemed more and more fucked up everytime she died. And as she said before.

Human curiosity demands to be sated.

The way her fist clenches against her chest plate doesn’t go unnoticed and Attack sighs and rests a comforting hand atop her head of unruly black hair that had been pulled into a messy top knot, her shaved sides visible.

“You’re allowed to be hurt, ya know?” He finally says. It catches her off guard but she doesn’t show it. “You’re allowed to feel hurt and angry and sad. Just...just try not to stay there too long or else getting outs gonna be harder”. She scoffs but allows his hand to remain.

“I wouldn’t have a purpose if I did...”

-

We in them sad boi hours my dudes ✌🏼😎

As usual, Attack is @guardian-headcanons and Kano is mine.

Shit has been ✨r o u g h✨

[ayo-cowbelly]

The Things We Do For Love ~ Part Three

Previous part ~ next part ~ masterlist

This took longer than I thought it would but… Part three is here!! 

So… the last chapter kinda hurt. 

I am aware of that (my mission with that one was to make you sad). My solution is badass Padmé Amidala. No way she spends the whole time in a nightgown and then goes out crying (George Lucas, I'm looking at you. You did her dirty in Revenge of the Sith). 

Our girl is gonna pull a major sneak. Get fucked, Palpatine. 

By the way: in this, Bail goes to the temple earlier. Just to make the plan work. And even though Riyo isn’t part of the delegation of 2000, I like Riyo so she gets to go along with the Senate Squad™. 

Taglist:

@likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @cacodaemonia @halfblood-demigods @ct7567329

if you want to be tagged, let me know!

*** 

As Padmé watched the Jedi Temple burn from the window, her thoughts lingered on her husband. Was he safe? Was he alright? 

Was he in the Temple, a victim of whatever attack had hit it? 

What was happening over there? 

She hadn’t heard any news. And for the Jedi Temple, of all places to be attacked, a symbol of peace, the home of the guardians of the Republic… it shook Padmé to her core. Something was very, very wrong. She didn’t have to be Force-sensitive to know it. 

Placing a protective hand over her belly, she debated comming someone. Would anyone else know anything more? How could they? It wasn’t like they were broadcasting info on the holonet. 

“The Chancellor's office indicated Master Anakin returned to the Jedi Temple. Don't worry, My Lady. I am sure he will be alright,” C-3PO said, somehow filling his tone with gentleness. 

Padmé glanced over at the blazing Temple, smoke rising in the air and scorching the Coruscanti sky… if Anakin was there… 

Fear and grief overtook her, and small tears slid down her cheeks. What would she do without him? 

No. Wait. Padmé was a Queen, a Senator. She could handle herself just fine, thank you very much. She just needed to think. Think. 

Nobody had attacked openly from the outside. She would have seen it. There could be an intruder, or someone inside might have gone Dark (it wasn’t unheard of, though it was unnerving to think about. There was Dooku, of course. And her husband had told her bits and pieces of Umbara, and there was Barriss Offee- she thought of Ahsoka, Ahsoka, who was like a sister and a daughter all at once, who had been betrayed and they failed her-). 

Padmé decided it wasn’t the best idea to head over there herself, even though a small part of her wanted to. If she went to investigate, she would either be turned away or injured, as who was to say this unknown threat wouldn’t turn on her? 

She could call the Chancellor’s office. They said Anakin had gone to the Temple, maybe they knew more than they were letting on? 

But then again, Padmé didn’t trust Palpatine anymore. She was a member of the Delegation of 2000, after all. Something wasn’t right with him, so his office wasn’t an option. Obi-Wan was off-world, Ahsoka had been sent to Mandalore (Padmé had to call her soon, they needed to catch up)... so who did she have? Maybe Bail and Mon were available. 

Her holoprojector started to beep. It was a private channel, one only she and the two aforementioned Senators had. Answering, she was met with Bail Organa. 

“Padmé! Where are you?” His voice was frantic, almost, which was strange since Bail was always so composed. 

“In my apartments, why? Bail, what’s wrong?” 

“The Temple…” Her uneasiness was piqued. Bail went on. “I went over there, wanting to figure out what happened… the clones. It was them.” 

Padmé’s brows furrowed. “What?” 

“They said there was a rebellion. Then, a young Jedi came out, fighting against them… and they shot him down.” 

“They killed a Jedi? Are you sure this is what you saw?” 

“Yes, positive. When I left, some shot at me too!” 

Anakin… was he… Padmé bit her lip, thinking. She would not dwell on negative thoughts, there were more important things to figure out. However, she was still worried, and couldn’t tamp down the small bit of nervousness that leaked into her voice. “What do we do, Bail?” 

“Wait there, I think we should have this conversation in person. Call Mon also.” Bail hung up, leaving Padmé alone with her spiraling thoughts. 

*** 

The three of them decided to get off-world. The Jedi youngling had been killed, and Bail had been shot… if they were already going after the Jedi, what if the clones targeted the Senators next? Evidently, the residents at the Temple had been beaten, so how were the Senators supposed to defend themselves? 

She needed to figure out where Anakin was, contact Obi-Wan, maybe even Ahsoka, and figure out what the kriff was happening.

When she told them this -using different phrasing, of course, she was nothing if not professional- her friends had a slight disagreement. “Padmé, we can’t go to the Temple right now. Look what happened when Bail showed up. Besides, Master Skywalker is very powerful. He will be able to handle himself,” Mon assured her. 

Yes, yes, that’s true. You have a duty, Padmé. You can’t let your personal feelings cloud your mind. 

Padmé took a deep breath. “Alright… but we are going to find Master Kenobi, and try to contact other Jedi. We need answers.” 

“Now that, I agree with,” Mon said. “What ship will we use?” 

“I have one,” Bail chimed in. “The crew is already on board. It’s parked at the Executive Building right now, but I think we can get there. Padmé, you should wait here. In your… current situation,” her friend gestured to her growing stomach, which still showed no matter how big her gown was, “it might be hard for you to hurry. And I believe this situation to be time-sensitive.” 

“Bail, you can’t just keep me from going along. I have a duty to my people, and the Republic, which might be in danger at this very moment. I will not wait here, worried and alone! I’m coming with you, and I won’t hear otherwise.” 

“Padmé-” Bail started, but at the look on his friend’s face, he relented. Padmé was kind, yes, but she was a fighter. And she would not be hidden away just because she was pregnant. 

Padmé would fight for her friends, family, her husband, and her children. She would fight for her people. She would always defend them, protect them, look to ensure that the galaxy would see a better tomorrow. And Padmé was not about to let anyone get in the way of that. 

Yes, Padmé Amidala was a fighter. And a damn good one at that. 

***

The three of them (along with C-3PO and R2) managed to look fairly casual during their trek through the Executive Building, though they walked at a pace that would be described as ‘improper’. They must have been a strange sight, three senators and two droids speed walking towards the landing platforms with no luggage, no entourage, just grim looks on their faces. Although, the halls were practically empty. Most people were likely staying in their apartments, having seen the burning Temple (it was a frightful sight, to be sure).

Padmé observed the corridor. She shivered slightly and caught Mon’s eye. “Do either of you feel uneasy?” 

Mon nodded. “Yes, something isn’t right. It’s very off-putting in here.” 

“I agree. We best hurry.” Bail sped up, the others matching his pace, 3PO trailing behind. They were outside, now, the large ship becoming clearer and clearer. As they neared it, a voice called out. 

“Senator Amidala? Is that you?” 

Padmé, Mon, and Bail stopped in their tracks. Turning, they saw Riyo Chuchi approaching. 

Padmé smoothed over her face, appearing calm. “Senator Chuchi, good evening. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“I feel the same about you, Senator. May I ask the purpose of your presence here?” 

Padmé realized how suspicious they must look. The Jedi Temple was burning, and here were three senators who were known to oppose the Chancellor, appearing to be leaving the planet without an official reason. They needed an excuse, quickly. 

Then again, Riyo is trustworthy… and a good friend. Padmé glanced at Mon and Bail in turn, conveying her thoughts with her eyes (communicating without words was a good skill, one that she had picked up after working in politics for so long). Bail nodded, almost imperceptibly, and Padmé turned back to Riyo. 

“May we drop the formalities, Senator Chuchi?” 

“Of course.” 

“Good,” Padmé gave Riyo a small, friendly smile. “Riyo, we need to get off-world. I’m sure you’ve seen what happened to the Jedi Temple. The clones are behind the attack, and we do not trust Chancellor Palpatine to give us the details. The three of us are going to try to find other Jedi, to fill them in about the situation and see if they know more.” 

If Riyo was surprised, she didn’t show it. A stoic look on her face, she replied, “I understand. And I wish to join you.” 

“Riyo, wait-” 

Not letting Padmé finish, Riyo went on. “Padmé, please let me help. I do not trust the Chancellor anymore, either. He has still not given up his emergency powers, and shows no sign of doing so. And the Jedi have been a great help to us all, me included. I would like to return the favor.” 

“We would be honored if you would join us, Senator Chuchi. I feel we will need all the help we can get,” Bail said. Riyo nodded, satisfied, and their little group boarded Bail’s ship. 

***

Darth Vader returned to his wife’s apartments, emotions wreaking havoc in his mind. He was desperate for the calm that only Padmé could bring, the safety in her arms. That safety would be multiplied tenfold, now that the threat of the Jedi was extinguished. Vader had succeeded, the Darkness in him growing. 

He didn’t think about the screams, the pleas, the smell of charred skin. He didn’t wonder why his eyes were still blue, why he could still feel that infuriating Kenobi alive in the Force, their bond still connecting them- 

He landed his ship, running inside. “Padmé!” 

No reply. 

“Padmé! Where are you?” 

Nothing. Fear and anger sparked inside him, the Darkness rising, ready to pounce. She should be here, she should be safe- The Jedi must have done this. They must have received word of their rebellion being discovered, and this was their retaliation, taking the person that meant most to him. That traitor Kenobi likely knew of her importance to Vader. It must be his doing, somehow. Vader was enraged. 

“Padmé-” Vader spotted a piece of flimsi on a table, lying in wait. He picked it up and started to read: 

Ani- 

If you’re seeing this, you’re alive, thankfully. I hope you’re alright, Ani, and I want you to know that I am as well. The baby is fine also, I promise. 

By this time, I am off-world, and my handmaidens and security are in a secure location. It’s my own choice- after seeing the attack on the Jedi Temple (what happened, Ani? Is everything okay?) I have decided that Coruscant is no longer safe. I will be back soon. 

However, I can’t tell you where I’ve gone, no matter how much I want to- should this note fall into the wrong hands, whomever that may be, I can’t let my location be compromised. 

I love you, Ani. Be safe. 

Love always, 

Padmé

Vader saw red. 

***

Padmé looked out the window, studying the cosmos. Mon stood next to her, though neither one spoke. 

It was Padmé who broke the silence. “Mon, do you think everything will be alright?” She asked quietly, a protective hand on her stomach. 

Mon reached over and grabbed her friend’s hand, giving a reassuring squeeze. “Yes, I believe Skywalker will be just fine, Padmé.” 

*** 

Days later, about a week after the attack on the Temple, they were joined by Master Yoda, who had escaped Kashyyyk without a scratch. He was the first and only Jedi they had found after Order 66. When he boarded the ship, Padmé had never seen the Jedi Master look so… worn down. 

The Senators and the Grand Master sat at a conference table in the ship, grave looks on all of their faces. 

“Palpatine was the Sith Lord all along,” Mon stated, sounding breathless with surprise. “How did we not know?” 

“The skills of a politician include masking one’s true emotions,” Bail said. “He’s very skilled.” 

“Master Yoda, were the Jedi unable to sense it?” Riyo asked, no malice in her voice, only confusion. 

“Sense it, we did not. The Dark side, clouds everything, it does. A strong Sith Palpatine is.” Yoda’s ears drooped just a bit. 

Padmé spoke up. “Master Yoda, is there a way to defeat him?” 

“Not sure of this, I am. Though, with our combined efforts, a solution I believe we can find.” 

“You said Master Kenobi was alive as well, yes?” Bail asked, leaning forwards. “We should speak to him, tell him to rendezvous with us.” 

“Contact him, I will.” Yoda left the room, leaving the four senators alone. 

“I never expected Palpatine to be…” Mon trailed off, at a loss for words. It seemed they all were, after the reveal of the now Emperor’s true identity. 

“But who do you think this Lord Vader is? I’ve never seen him before,” Riyo wondered aloud. “It’s odd that he would come out of nowhere and immediately be declared the Emperor’s apprentice.”

Padmé looked to the younger woman. She hadn’t been seeing much of the holonet in the last week, preferring to talk to the others instead or be alone. Too much stress wasn’t good for the babies, and the galaxy seemed incredibly overwhelming right now. “Lord Vader? Who is that?” 

“Have you not seen the holonet?” When Padmé shook her head, Riyo pulled out a datapad, typed something, and handed it to Padmé. She was met with a figure that looked scarily familiar. 

Her voice came out as a mere whisper. “This… this is Lord Vader? You’re sure?” 

“Yes, that’s him. What’s wrong, Padmé?” Mon questioned from beside her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Do you recognize him?” 

Padmé did, and that was the problem. She knew that jawline, even if it was mostly hidden under a cloak. She knew that gait when he walked, she knew those subtle fidgets when he was still. She knew everything about this person. 

After all, that was her husband. 

Anakin. 

***

Next part is gonna move forward a lot more, plot-wise. This is just to get our favorite Nabooian to where she needs to be.

[maple-writes]

WHG 14: Boat 3

tagging @ratracechronicler (Elvira, Rebecca) @concealeddarkness13 (Nesri, Lynne, Zenith, Triel) and @pen-of-roses (Rowan, Lynn)

###

The others trickled back into the room, waking me slowly and giving me just enough time to rub some of the tiredness out of my eyes before everyone was gathered. In such a small room we were crammed together pretty close, making it feel all the more tiny.

Once everyone was accounted for, Rowan gave Zenith a defeated look. “I hope your end went better than mine?”

Zenith grimaced. “I found where Evie, Alastair and Poli are staying, but Evie somehow saw both me and Alastair wearing Peacekeeper uniforms, and she’s scared to get close.”

Rowan sighed. “Lynn didn’t buy, or at least didn’t say the Peacekeeper story, but he seemed convinced I wasn’t real somehow. Either it wasn’t me, someone was pretending to be me, or…” They shook their head. “I don’t even know but it’s not looking good.”

Was that what Zenith’s old friends were talking about? “The capitol suspected we might be here.” I paused as everyone looked at me. “I heard they had plans to stop us.”

“Is that why Lynn looked at me like a rotten fish carcass and not a knight in shining armor?” Rebecca winced at some memory. “Great.”

Elvira though, looked more thoughtful. “She looked at you and thought you were wearing Peacekeeper uniforms or thought she’d seen you in them at some earlier time?” She looked to Zenith, waiting for an answer.

“She asked me why I was wearing a Peacekeeper uniform. But she didn’t seem particularly surprised. The Capitol must have already been lying to her.” He frowned. “we might want to change our plans a little. We won’t be able to rescue them tonight.”

My shoulders fell. That wasn’t good. A whole other day stuck here on the ship? And what if even after that we couldn’t do anything, couldn’t figure out what was wrong with them? What then?

Triel sighed dramatically. “And after I went through all that trouble to book an appointment with Snow tonight.”

“We will rescue them though, right?” Rowan’s voice tightened, and even from across the room I could feel hints of panic ebbing from him, prickling cold against my cheeks.

Zenith nodded. “We just need to figure out what the Capitol is doing. Hopefully, we can still rescue them during this party.”

But Rebecca was still focused on Triel, a frown playing on her face. “Appointment?”

Triel nodded. “I’ve been pretending to be a Capitol reporting for a few weeks, and I’ve even published some interviews wit the stylists and a few mentors. I built up that persona so I could get close to Snow without too much suspicion. I asked to interview him tonight, but the appointment was really for his dunk into the lake.”

“The appointment could still be good though,” Rowan started slowly, thoughtfully. “Get a better insight into tomorrow’s events maybe? Or learn more about the ship, or…”

“I might need the help of my lovely assistant, however,” Triel looked over to Elvira with a smirk.

Elvira replied, “How about two or five?”

Triel cocked her head with a rare look of confusion. “If anyone else in this gang shows up, he’ll probably recognize them from the Games.”

Beside me, Cirrus grinned, reaching into his pocket for a folded scrap of paper. That grin could only mean he’d been up to something. “If you need someone he wouldn’t see I might have someone.” He handed the paper towards her and confirmed my suspicion. “Her name’s Amy, on of the avoxes on board. She wrote this out for me earlier and seems in on the plan.”

An avox? I half frowned. What happened to having to ignore the staff that he’d drilled into us at the apartment?

But Triel didn’t seem worried, eyes shining with excitement. “Perfect, I’ll make sure to recruit her to the president overboard gang.”

“Oh.” Elvira blinked. “I actually met some of my old friends—they’re national thieves and pirates at large and unknown to the government. They’re here to rob the place. I struc up an accord with them. One in particular would very much favor a… Bit of a ruckus. But Amy works too.”

I wrinkled my eyebrows. How many pirates could there be at one state-sanctioned event? But before I could figure out a more polite phrasing, Cirrus spoke again.

“At the very least she could get you in. I haven’t spoken to her about actually pushing anyone.” He paused, sighing as his shoulders sloped and his voice softened. “She was on stage with Lynne. I don’t want her to get hurt again.”

Some of the others flinched, as if remembering something painful. Cirrus had said something about that broadcast being harsh, but he hadn’t mentioned anything about an avox.

Triel nodded. “Thank you.” T hen to Elvira, she added, “I do think I would need some more assistants, especially if they are our mutual friends.”

"Captain Skeates will gladly help defy the Capitol, especially if I ask, and the others will follow her lead.” Elvira said. “She's a genius, as you likely know, Quartermaster Chaudhary has the guns, and Mirabel has the gadgets. Tell me what you need us to do."

Triel’s eyes shone. “Oh, I simply must have more assistants. I haven’t seen them in a year.”

What were the odds, these pirates knew our pirates. I’d never thought I’d ever meet one pirate, let alone this many. Was there anyone on this ship that wasn’t a pirate? Wait. I sat up. I’d almost forgot about what happened with Zenith’s team.

“Whatever you do, try and push him off the right side of boat. I convinced—” My eyes flickered to Zenith for a second. Would they want him to know? Would he be upset if he knew? “—Some security, to move some safety equipment away from the area.”

Rebecca sat up proudly. “You mean the starboard side?” She looked around, as if pleased to show everyone she knew what it was called.

“I don’t know,” I mumbled. “I just told them the right side.”

Rowan scoffed. “I don’t know whether to be happy that worked or even more irritated with them that they moved it.”

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Zenith watching me, eyes narrowed and posture stiff. I quickly looked away, trying not to meet his eyes. He probably knew. He’d be smart enough to put it together.

“I found an old friend, and he’s invited us to meet the captain.” Nesri interjected. “He stays they will held. And he’s a horrible liar, so I trust him.”

“Ooh yeah!” Rebecca agreed. “lets kinda leave at different times and go different routes so we don’t draw attention to us as a group, right? The captain’s at the bridge I’m assuming?” She paused just a second, almost not noticeable. “That raised bit kinda near the back of the yacht up on top with the windows?”

Good. I would have had no idea what the bridge meant. It sounded familiar though, her description.

Nesri nodded and paired up with Zenith, and Triel decided to walk with Elvira.

“Meet in ten minutes?” I asked, making sure to give myself enough time to remember where I’d seen the bridge.

The others agreed, and we staggered our leaving. I left with Cirrus, taking the long way around the outside of the ship alongside the deck railings. If it weren’t the president’s ship it would have been a nice walk. The breeze off the lake carried the smell of fresh water, cool and light. But it wouldn’t last. We had to go back inside when we got closer to the bridge, back into the metal halls and artificial lights.

When everyone was gathered, Nesri’s friend let us into the bridge to meet the captain. He led us through a room filled with all kinds of navigational instruments, glowing switchboards, radio equipment and a whole range of equipment I didn’t recognize, straight to the person at the helm.

They turned around and I couldn’t help but stare. They wore a pristine navel uniform without as much of a hint of a wrinkle, perfectly shined shoes, and perfectly placed hair, and perfect posture. Both eyes were covered with sleek eyepatches, and a brightly coloured parrot sat on their shoulder in it’s own perfectly tailored uniform. I leaned forward just a bit. The parrot… It’s uniform looked like it had a slightly different insignia.

“Hello Captain Reeves!” Nesri’s friend grinned and waved. “I wanted to introduce you to some people who aren’t Capitol puppets.”

The parrot looked first, head cocked and pupils dilating. “Yo ho ho.”

The captain turned too, frowning. “You brought rebels in here?” They paused, long and silent save for the whirring of navigational monitors. Then they smiled. “Brilliant! What do they need help with?”

I glanced between them and the parrot, not sure who to focus one. The captain had been the one to speak, but the parrot… It was like it was looking right through me. It was looking right at us.

Nesri laughed, failing at keeping it in, but Zenith seemed to fare better. “Do you know anything about any of the guests being forced to see other guest differently than they should, Captain Reeves?”

The captain burst out laughing, loud and booming in the small room. “The parrot doesn’t know anything but navigation! She’s Captain Reeves, and my name is Smith. Now about what you asked, I do have a machine that sends some data to a place on the mainland. But I have no access to the data.”

Again, I glanced between them before cautiously settling on Reeves. “Does, does Reeves have access?” Would it be rude to not have addressed her directly?

“Or do you know anyone who does?” Elvira added.

“Neither of us have access.” Smith said. “Don’t know if you meddling with the machine would do you any good anyway. But...” they paused, seemingly only for dramatic affect. “I did hear some idiot Peacekeeper talking about how this big machine—” they gestured to one off to the side, “gets data from these small machines that were integrated into the shockers that the tributes wear. If you could figure out how to disable those smaller machines, you’d be able to stop them from seeing things you don’t want.”

Captain Reeves bobbed up and down on Smith’s shoulder, wings flapping out at her sides. “Yo ho ho!”

The conversation shifted, moving on to how best to tackle the new challenge. Luckily it seemed like Shine might be able to devise some kind of work around, they just needed time. Most of it went over my head, talking about technology and devices and disablers. Clearly nothing was going to get done anytime soon and nothing I’d be particularly helpful with.

I excused myself from the bridge and made my way back to the room. There seemed to be some kind of game show going on in the main room now, with Ceasar hosting on stage and contestants chosen from within the crowd. I slowed as I passed, eyes glued on him standing, standing there in the center of the stage. This time it was Lynn up there with him, forced to smile and play nice with the lucky volunteers on stage. Resentment burned deep enough to simmer in the marrow of my bones. How dare he. My fingers curled, nails sharper than they should be as I glared.

The lights flickered and I forced a deep breath. Relax. Keep it together, just another day. I kept my head down and went straight back to our room.

#

Some of the others didn’t come back right away, busy somewhere else on the ship figuring out electronics or scouting, or something. I hadn’t really paid full attention, all I knew was that I wasn’t alone in the room anymore and couldn’t seem to fall asleep again. Ever since coming back from trying to figure out Laurel’s trackers though, Rowan and Zenith had been quiet. Neither seemed much up to talk, Rowan seeming especially down and tired after what must have been a whole ordeal. Fair enough.

But just as I’d gotten comfortable again under a heap of blankets, there was a knock at the door. Zenith got up and answered, readjusting his eyepatch at the last second to cover his eye again. I couldn’t see who it was on the other side of the door, but I perked up when I recognized her voice. The dragon-woman from Zenith’s old team. She said something about Lynne and Lynn attempting their own escape.

Zenith  glanced back, evaluating with his uncovered eye before turning back to them. “I’ll go stop them.”

“Wait,” I threw the blanket off and popped up to my feet, the ground spinning a little when I moved too fast. “I’ll come with you.” Nerves told me to go with him, just in case, just in case something happened. Just in case magic somehow got involved.

He studied me a moment, doubt flashing across his face strong enough I thought he would say something, tell me not to come, but then he gave in. “Fine. Let’s go.”

Him and the dragon led the way, and I had to jog a few paces to catch up with them. Were they walking fast, or was it just me? I tried my best to keep up despite the heaviness pulling at my eyes, weighing on my legs.

“When  I left, the captured tributes were trying to cut out their shockers. We were helping so they wouldn’t hurt themselves too badly, but…” the dragon trailed off, a grimace striking her face. “I don’t think that will work. The Capitol knows you cut your trackers. They won’t make the same mistake twice.”

“We should hurry.” Zenith’s voice gave nothing away, his eyes straight forward as he picked up his pace.

I realized too late, having to run again to catch up. “They didn’t hurt themselves, did they?” I stuck close to Zenith’s shoulder and glanced past him to the woman.

She shrugged. “I left before they could finish. They probably did hurt themselves, but Arque and That will make sure it’s not life threatening.”

We came to a stop, and Zenith picked up a piece of paper from the floor. He read it quickly and handed it to me. Went to the right side of the boat to help them “escape” scrawled across in hasty handwriting.

“Already?” We hadn’t taken that long to get here, had we? I turned to Zenith and the dragon. “Do you know where they would have gone?”

She nodded. “Somewhere no one would notice. A small stretch on the back of the yacht where there’s no entertainment or lights.” She smiled a little, directed at me. “Thanks for the suggestion earlier today, though. They’ll want something to help them swim properly, so the delay will help us catch up to them.”

I smiled to myself, still holding the note as we started walking again. Zenith gave me another suspicious look though and I hid my face, hunching my shoulders and staring down at the deck. The smile stayed though, wide and secret as we hurried along the outside of the ship.

It vanished though when we found them. The other two team members mocked confusion at the missing equipment, but Lynn and Lynne noticed us immediately with harsh glares.

Lynne crossed her arms. “What do you want? We’re not breaking any rules.”

I took a step closer, close as I dared under their glares and the anger strong enough to feel even though the air. Under that though, almost too faint to notice, fear prickled cold at my face too. “I,” I swallowed. “I know you want to get out of here, but please just wait a little longer.”

“You, you were with Rowan?” Lynn asked, not quite meeting my eyes.

I nodded. “We met before the games.” What had they told him about Rowan? That they’d gotten out? That they’d been captured? That they’d died, alone and cold and hungry and suffering in the snow? “They’re here too, and they’re safe.”

“Safe?” Instead of relief, Lynn spoke with contempt. “When you’re all peacekeepers?”

“What?” I blinked, stiff in place. “Oh, right.” That’s what this whole thing was about, their shockers and whatever it was that was making them see this way. What was I supposed to say? There wasn’t nearly enough time. “I know it doesn’t make sense, but we really aren’t Peacekeepers.”

Beside me, Zenith sighed and crossed his arms. He stood straight and hard, like the peacekeepers they thought we were. “I have to ask that you return your room.”

I stood taller, trying my best to mimic his posture, but judging by their reactions it wasn’t nearly as convincing. “Just for now, please.”

But Lynne only matched us, trying to intimidate us back. “Why? We’re not breaking any ules. And we’re not required to be anywhere right now.”

Zenith put one hand on his hip and hovered the other over his side. There must have been a reason, but I couldn’t begin to figure it out. “The president requires it. Please, don’t struggle.”

Neither seemed scared off though. Lynn crossed his arms and studied Zenith, and Lynne didn’t give up her glare.

“Don’t you have a shred of yourselves left in there?” She spat. “Wouldn’t you want to defy the Capitol?”

Lynn placed a hand on her arm. “What happens if we refuse to go with you?”

Zenith clicked his tongue. “The president has allowed us to use force, if needed. It would be… unfortunate if we had to do that.”

Was that, was that a threat? Tension coiled in my stomach. What was he planning? He, he wasn’t going to actually hurt them, was he? They were scared, they were desperate, it was the last thing they needed.

Lynn hummed, low and defiant. “And you haven’t because..?” He said something to Lynne, to soft for me to hear.

Zenth sighed. “Fine, you don’t believe me?” He dashed forward, grabbing on of Lynne’s arms and forcing it behind her back with a predatory glare at Lynn. “Is that considerate enough for you?”

I startled, staggering off balance at his sudden movement. Lynne struggled against his grip but there was nothing he could do and I could only stare, wide-eyed and shocked. What was he thinking? What was he doing? That was Lynne! That was Lynne. But I swallowed my horror and hurried forward, putting myself between Lynn and the other two. Just in case. If there was a fight, if there was a full on fight I didn’t want to know what would happen.

Lynn stared down at Zenith and Lynne. “I’ll go with you if you let her go.”

Zenith paused, considering for a moment before letting her go and nudging them forward. “Then let’s go”

Lynn whispered something else to Lynne, then turned to me. “Alright let’s go.”

I glanced at Zenith, following his lead to escort them back to wherever their room was. Unease knotted along  with the tension in my gut. Lynne hadn’t even seem phased by what Zenith did. Hardly even seemed shaken. What else must she have been through since capture if that didn’t even seem like all that big of a deal?

“So, what happened to those bandages?” Zenith asked, still in his harsh peacekeeper tone. “They’re suspiciously over your shockers.”

Lynn glanced at Lynne. “Accident.”

“Are you okay?” I leaned back to see the bandages. They looked hastily applied and I couldn’t quite tell how much damage there might have been beneath them. What kind of tools did they try and use? “Is it a large wound? Do you need anything for it?” Was it going to get infected?

Lynne shot Zenith another glare. “Don’t touch them. Someone else took care of them.”

“We’re fine.” Lynn agreed, glancing over to me. His expression shifted, just a little, just a little bit softer, curious. “You know, Rowan likes a very specific tea. I used to tease them about the smell being too similar to a garden for me.”

Immediately a smile spread across my face. I still couldn’t fathom how anyone could just look at a plant and know what it was the way they did back at the training center. Of course they would like something garden-scented. “I can see that, they do like their plants.” The image of Rowan with mug after mug of tea in the apartment flashed though my head. How they’d always be brewing something and offering to whoever looked like they might want some. “And their tea.”

“I still don’t believe you’re Peacekeepers.” He mumbled. “But then I don’t really believe much of what Selene tells me anymore. Are you really trying to help.”

I nodded again. “We’re all there. There’s been a snag, but we’re trying.” Who knew if he believed me, but at least he wasn’t as hostile as Lynne.

“Then why stop us?”

Zenith muttered something under his breath and I ignored him, focusing on Lynn instead. He and Lynne deserved an explanation, even if they didn’t believe us right away. “I don’t really understand it, but there’s something extra in your shockers.” I pointed at his bandage, not sure what kind of terminology they’d been using for it. “There’s something affecting your perception, and we need a little longer to figure out how to stop it.” They deserved some kind of assurance they weren’t here alone even if they wouldn’t understand until we fixed what was wrong.

All Lynn did in response was hum, and Lynne did all she could to appear like she was ignoring every word I said.

We got to their room and Zenith ushered them towards the door. “Now, don’t leave until someone tells you to. If any of the Peacekeepers see you out again, they won’t be as nice as we were.”

“Right.” Lynn muttered.

Lynne didn’t say anything. She just walked in, flipping Zenith off until she flinched with a hiss of pain and had to settle with slamming the door instead. So they had cameras in their room.

As soon as the door was closed my shoulders slumped and I sighed. “At least they stayed on board.”

Zenith watched the door a little longer. “But the shockers are still working. That must not have worked.”

He put his hand in his pocket, and pulled out a crumpled up note with a look of surprise. He handed it to me when he was done reading. Cutting them out didn’t work. The machines are clinging to their muscles. Too difficult to pull out without professional help. Sorry. That didn’t sound good.

My heart fell. “That’s not good. Although, as long as we can disable them it’ll still be good enough for now, right?” I sure hoped so.

Zenith nodded, turning away. “Let’s head back before anyone asks any questions.”

Good idea. I followed him down the hallway, grateful he seemed to know where he was going. I shuffled along beside him, eyes down on the ground. Had it hurt, when they’d installed the shockers? If they were imbedded right into their muscles it couldn’t have been easy. Did it deliver the shock that deep, under the skin and into the muscle itself? My eyebrows furrowed and I hunched over around the weight on my chest. We had to break those things. We had to get them out of here. We had to.

My fists clenched at my sides and I set my jaw. They had to pay. Everyone on this forsaken vessel, everyone laughing and dancing and playing at their expense… I wonder how they would like it. Wonder if they knew. Wonder how they would react if everything suddenly went wrong. If they suddenly had to fear for their lives.

Not yet. I sighed, following Zenith back into our room. Not yet.

[golden-buddle]

Hivemind AU Masterpost

Because I have a bad habit of making things and then developing things around them, I made this.

The Hivemind AU is a Half Life AU based during and right after the Resonance Cascade. Though, it does use alot of things in HLVRAI. Mainly the sweet voice.

First off, the storyline in the Ask Blog can be read chronologically Here, and the info on my main blog Here. And finally the written ref of what they look like can be found Here.

Good? Good.

The Hivemind AU follows a Hivemind originally from Xen.

A while back, Black Mesa found a Hive of humanoid looking creatures that protected their hives with their lives. Black Mesa being Black Mesa decided to exploit the hive. They took a few of the Hive’s Cocoons, and brought them back to Black Mesa.

The first cocoons failed from the bad environment, but the first one that did survive, was given the tag B.CALHOUN. It was originally a keyboard mash from a frustrated scientist because that Calhoun died quickly, but it stuck. 

And so what was once just a race named after a few numbers, the Calhoun race was named.

And yes, the Calhouns are based off the Barney guards.

Eventually, they had a Calhoun live long enough to help another freshly hatched Calhoun, and it quickly spiraled from there. And by the time the ResCa happened, they had somewhere between 255-400 healthy Calhouns living in Black Mesa.

Black Mesa selectively “bred” the Calhouns until they looked human. They still have too bright eyes and too sharp teeth though.

Will get back to the reason why bred is in quotes in a bit.

All of the Calhouns are apart of a Hivemind, thus where the AU name came from. In the Hivemind, theres two types of Calhouns. The Quiet Ones, and the Loud Ones. 

The Quiet Ones are the ones that are still in the Cocoons, there, but still being formed.

The Loud Ones are the ones that arent in the Cocoons. Lively, able to move, and able to talk.

Normally, the moment the Quiet Ones are ready to leave their Cocoons, the Loud Ones would give them a voice in the Hivemind and meet them outside their Cocoons. 

But because of Black Mesa, they couldnt do that. So, there were hundreds of fully formed Calhouns asleep in their Cocoons. Which, of course pained the entire Hive because they couldnt help relax the Hive.

And Yes! We’re finally getting to the Sweet Voice part! 

To avoid having to much stress on the Hive and Hivemind, the Calhoun’s would pump their strong emotions into the Hivemind, and then those emotions would be spread throughout the entire Hive. 

And when there was a build up of emotions, they would expel the emotions into floaty little glowing colored balls. The expelling of the emotions sounds alot like humming or singing.

And now, we can get back to the reason bred was in quotes.

See, Calhouns don’t really breed, the reproduce asexually. With enough feelings of love, care, and the need to protect, they can use the sweet voice to make more Cocoons. And said Cocoons when complete and hardened, look alot like a glittery nightsky. And inside the Cocoons, are what is basically carbonated nutrients. 

And when the newly hatched Calhoun comes out, theyre very fragile, the size of a small child, and need to be taken care of by another Calhoun. But after they're cleaned up, Black Mesa takes the baby Calhoun, cuts off their tail, the only thing they couldn't breed out, and takes them away to be trained. Aka how to use gun, hand to hand combat, and suppression of instincts. After a week, the Baby is fully grown and is put into the main facility. 

But there’s a catch to be able to make cocoons. For the correct mix of sweet voice needed for cocoon making to be expelled, the Calhoun expelling it needs to feel completely safe, have enough food and room.

And since the Calhouns in Black Mesa are in Black Mesa, almost the entire hive does not feel safe.

So, what Black Mesa did was scoop up one or two Calhouns from each batch, and bring them somewhere else where they could be “educated” to not tell the rest of the Hive how new Calhouns are created, and given what would basically be heaven for any Calhoun.

And thats how the Hive is sustained.

Oh, and one more thing. Each Calhoun though connected to the Hive, can fully think, act, and talk on their own accord. They all have their own personalities, but they were all suppressed from acting on them because of Black Mesa.

In the Hivemind, they can communicate. Talk, Coordinate, and Plan. Though they mostly use it to broadcast feelings as using it to talk is a bit hard for them. Every Calhoun can use the Hivemind, and yes even the Quiet Ones. 

But theyre called Quiet Ones because they dont use it to talk, or broadcast feelings. They just, hum. Like every Calhoun does in their sleep.

Some have voices that are louder then the others, and because of Black Mesa’s influence, those natural leaders were made to seem bad, and the entire hive will scold the “offending” Calhoun if they talk over anyone in the Hivemind. 

If the offending Calhoun does it too often, the Hive will decide to Exile the Calhoun. To be exiled all the Calhoun has to do is go against the Hive’s rules a few too many times.

Exiling basically entails being cut off from the Hive and being left to flounder. The Entire Hive thinks its an immediate death sentence because each time they Exiled someone, Black Mesa would kill off the Offending Calhoun and let another find their body.

A very effective fear strategy.

And the reason Black Mesa is aware of the Louder Ones, is because they have access to the Hivemind.

With the help of SCIENCE! they were able to connect to the Hivemind, see what theyre thinking about, and see what theyre planning.

And because it wouldn’t Black Mesa if they didn’t experiment, they used human DNA and created two more hives.

Those Hives are officially known as E.Vance and I.Kleiner

Those two half human hives dont rely on their Hiveminds, and in fact they normally dislike their Hiveminds. Compared to the Calhoun’s love and need to protect their Hivemind, its a major difference.

Now, I think thats enough backstory. Lets get to the ResCa.

When the ResCa happened, half of the Hive was wiped. The Quiet Ones and the ones that knew how to make more cocoons were killed immediately by either Xen creatures, or by the roofs falling in on them.

The Hive’s numbers continued to be whittled down until only 5 remained.

Those five immediately went for eachother, and grouped up. It was frankly traumtising for them. They went from a loud bustling Hive of hundreds, to a quiet small hive of 5.

These 5, are the center of the AU. And theyre the ones the story follows.

Not to mention, one of them was severely injured. But with the help of a Black Mesa’s magical medkits, the injured Calhoun was brought back to mostly full health.

The 5 surviving Calhouns names and any injures are the following: Blueshift - B.Calhoun-29 Cut on left Cheek Bold - B.Calhoun-118 Three Scars over Left Eye Bracing - B.Calhoun-169 Bard - B.Calhoun-192 Bubbles - B.Calhoun-247 Limp and right Eye Gone

I’ve probably missed some info, as most of this was developed via asks (coughthanks@liliflower137cough)

But i’ll try to update this as much as possible.

Still, I strongly recommend going through either the ask blog or my main blog Hivemind AU tag. Though, there is spoilers on my main blog about the Ask Blog story line. 

And one more thing, go check out @thelambdalocator, They helped a lot and are artists behind the Icons.

[pendragonfics]

Darling, Are You Going to Leave Me?

Paring: Frank Castle/Reader

Tags: Female reader, heavy angst, break up, Frank Castle angst, infertility, vigilantism, minor character death, babies, accidental baby acquisition, swearing, canon-typical violence, idiots in love, Frank Castle cares, angst and hurt/comfort, whump, fluff and hurt/comfort

Summary: After trying for a while, and finding negative test results for fertility, Frank and ________ hit a rough spot, and split. But that doesn't slow her down: she turns to a life of vigilantism, becoming East Wind, a courier to those in need. However, not all nights are as rough as this one on the job...

Word Count: 3,348

Current Date: 2020-03-10

The worst pain of all came across you when the conversation ended. It could have been all shouting, for how sadly you felt, but it had only been words shared at barely above a whisper. Claire had taken a sample of your reproductive product and anonymously, the same from Frank. That had happened a month ago and now having read the information revealed, it felt like a noose had lowered from the ceiling above and was slowly stringing you above.

“Say something,” you whisper, throat thick. Frank kept quiet.

The apartment groaned with the wind outside, and Max whined at your feet and inched toward your feet, which even in socks, felt as cold as death itself. It was a feeling that you somewhat wished for, in the silence waiting for Frank to share what he had read silently on the paper. It had been two or more years since cohabitation and a little less than that since you had first fallen for him, the man that most knew as the Punisher.

“…” He looked up but said nothing. A hand wiped across his face, and it was then you noticed that it was bristly with multiple days' worth of stubble across his chin. He took a deep breath, and then, gravelly, he spoke, “…’m sorry.”

You blink, unsure of what he means. “Frank?”

You move to him. He had chosen to sit on the coffee table - a salvaged chunk of timber from an alley, and you on the dilapidated couch, but as you slide to the edge, he stands, leaving the paper with the test results that he had read from.

But he’s already in the fridge and has cracked open a can by the time you read the paper. When you look up, he’s downed nearly all of it, and while you know he’s not usually one to drink, it must be bad. You know it is, but that’s only because now you’ve read the results.

You don’t quite understand what all the jargon means, but if you read into it...your sample is good, apparently normal. But Frank’s isn’t. He was sample B, and it seems that from what you understand that -

“You deserve someone who can give you what you want,” his voice is shaky, unsure, and looking to Frank, you’re sure that what he’s saying is not what you want to hear. But he doesn’t let you interrupt, and cracking the tab of another beer, he stares off at the other end of the room. “I’m - I’m not good for you, babe.”

“There has to be another way,” you try reasoning.

“I can’t put you through all that, ________ - you deserve the world -,”

“Oh, fuck the world!” you cry. The paper is crushed in your hands, and you sink back to the couch. "I want you!"

But the night didn't end that way. He didn't hear your words as pleas, and you perhaps didn't get through to him, because in the next day, you had gathered your things from his dresser, and took yourself to a hostel in Hoboken for cheap. It hadn't ended with a fist through a wall, just enough tears to have a hard time finding your Lyft. By the time you manage to find sleep, you can’t help but feel like you’ve been suffocating all evening, and by the time morning comes, your cheeks are wettened still.

---

In a year, you are stronger, and not just physically. The days where you find yourself caught on the opening line of the news broadcasts are few and far between, and the name of the man you had loved, trusted and fought for is no longer on your lips. Spider-Man looks over Brooklyn, Luke Cage is known as Power Man in Harlem, and there’s no reason to return to Hell’s Kitchen when Daredevil prowls the district. There’s a trickle of information that comes from the whisper trail you keep, and when you hear that he nears your operation, you pick up and leave to another place.

You’re no superhero, but to some people, you are a hero. Dressed your signature hoodie and jeans - being inconspicuous is best - you’re essentially a ferry to remove people from bad situations. It’s mostly kids from abusive households, victims from other heroes’ exploits that you lend a hand in helping. They’re people, vulnerable people, and every day when you feel like quitting, when it’s too hard, you remind yourself that it’s something that anyone with your connections would do.

It’s not like you’re on a first-name basis with the freakin’ Avengers.

Your client is a young mother. You don’t know the details, but she didn’t want the child and had been kept against her will by a family. By the time you arrive to make the window, as swift as ever you collect her, hide, and begin the process of extraction. She’s terrified, and clutches her newborn, and moves slow. You don’t know what pain she’s in, but from what you can tell, it’s recent since her delivery, and she must be stronger than you to be moving with you. But you must keep quiet to evade those seeking you both, so you don’t confess your admiration to her.

You rarely work this high up in Manhattan, but from what you can tell, she’s desperate. Something about crossing a powerful family, but you’re not sure how that correlates to the bundle that she clutches at in her arms. Luckily this end of the city is so densely populated, as it’s easier to hide when there are others around. That’s what makes a good spy chase; being hidden in plain sight. Hundreds of thousands of people around you and your client; the best camouflage that money didn’t buy.

You’re crossing the street, briskly making the tail end of a walk light when you smell tyres, hear yells, and gunshots. Looking up, you barely make it in time, yanking the young mother by the fabric of her sweater onto the curb as a trio of black sedans roars past. How was it that rich, bad people all had the same cars? One of the windows opens, and in the split second that they pass, the person inside makes eye contact with you, with the woman you are helping, and you know.

You’ve been made.

“Come on!” you yell. You feel bad, but there’s no time to waste. “We’ve got to go!”

Pushing through the crowd is hard; nobody parts for you in everyday life and they sure as hell aren’t parting now. You try to muscle your way through, but they are resistant, and it’s slow. Eventually, you make it through to the nearest alleyway, and it’s empty enough to sprint.

“I - I can’t!” she wails, weeping. “Please,” she pleas, “take Jude.”

You turn back, about to bolster her, but you see the agony on her face. She’s made it this far, so recently after giving birth, but she leans against the building for support, her legs buckling underneath her. Rushing back, you scoop the baby from her arms. Grateful, she almost weeps, but it’s then she cries out in a shout of pain and falls to the earth beneath her.

There’s no noise of a gunshot, but you know what a silencer sounds like. You turn the way that she had fallen, holding Jude closer to your chest. Your heart beats faster when you find that you can’t see the killer at first, but then they come from the shadows. A white man, 40, dressed down from a suit stands there with a sardonic smile. The pistol in his hand is raised to the sky, waiting, and the way his feet are pointing, you know that you’re the next one to be shot.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he drawls. Boston accent.

“You killed her!” you shout. However loud you are, it’s still lost to the wail of the city around you both.  

He lowers the gun so it’s facing you, and you feel your breath catch. He starts to laugh and takes a step toward you. “And you took her from us. She was living a good life, you know. Best that money this side of the river could buy,” he shook his head in disbelief, “and you meddling bitch got her killed.”

Despite the pistol on you, you bite back. “She didn’t want your dirty money.”

“She could have had the life of a queen!” he roared, his other hand coming up to support the gun. You brace yourself, turning away so the baby in your arms is away from the gun’s line of sight. “I’m not to be crossed, don’t you know who I -,”

BANG!

He crumples to the pavement, the gun misfiring as he lands unceremoniously. The shot clatters off a dumpster and disappears into the alleyway, and you almost cry out in fear, afraid. Never in your life have you had such a night go so badly! Shakily, you fold back the blankets around the swaddle and peer inside. Jude sleeps on, unphased from the events that have transpired, exhaling and inhaling as normal. By the time you look to the mobster, there’s another man there.

“East Wind?” he says.

You blink because it’s him.

At this distance, you know it’s him from the marking on the vest, from the smears of red that you remember washing off with loofas back when you shared a shower. You know that voice, and hearing your code name from his mouth, it sends a chill down your spine. Only clients knew of that name, that, and people who spoke of ghost stories of the hero who carried people from danger like an Angel of Death.

“You saved me,” you breathe. He can’t hear you but saying it doesn’t make it feel any more real than it is.

Frank Castle nears, seemingly not looking your way, but instead at the fallen man he had taken down. The way he stalks around it, like a vulture inspecting a carcass is foreign to you, and you watch, silent. He kicks him over, and the face of the man is smothered in the pool of his red. He kicks him once more, but you look away at that, only hearing him when he spits.

You start to walk away. The contact on the outside is still expecting you at a strict time, even if you just had a delay. But you’re not three feet away when you hear him calling after you.

“You can’t go walk away like nothin’ happened,” he shouts. You stop in your tracks, still facing the way that you’re going.

“I’m not the kind of person like you.” You reply.

“There ain’t nobody else like me,” He fires back, and you can tell he’s getting impatient. “Look, lady. There are other guys, more guys like this pisshead - you ain’t safe to do what you do. I mean, all due respects.”

You feel a smile tug up on the corner of your lips. God, how you missed him. It was like returning to a thrill, a drug, an endorphin rush, something so very good and nice after going cold turkey, and it took all your power to stay where you were. You could hear his big combat boots thumping their way toward you, approaching. He seemed to slow as he neared, and for that, you were grateful.

“All due respects,” you draw the last word out, “I can take care of myself.”

He huffs. “Look, East Wind - you’re some hero, but -,”

“I’m not a hero!” you burst, turning to him. The hood falls off, and your face is unveiled.

“________,” he’s as disarmed as you, but unlike him and his guns, your weapon is your wits.

It catches Frank off guard; he almost takes a step back, but steels himself. This close, you can see uneven patches of stubble across his face, the way his eyes look raw and sore, the cuts up his forearms. There are more dings to his vest than ever; even the spray-painted skull looks morose. You try to keep it together, but you can’t break down. Not now, not here, and especially not with your dead client’s child in your arms, considering what the last words shared with Frank were about. A beat passes, and both of you stay quiet until the little one in your arms begins to fuss.

“Is that a -,” he begins.

“A baby, Frank,” you snap, diverting your attention to the child. In her wrap, she wriggles unhappily.

It seems to be that time where her small baby belly aches for sustenance, and unfortunately for you, there isn’t anything to quench her thirst on hand. In your time, you’ve taken care of many different ages of children, from this age to voting age, but you’re not sure if any stores sell formula this late at night.

“I know, I know,” you whisper, fussing over her, “it’s okay.”

Pulling out your phone with your spare hand, you try one-handedly to type. Apart from the fact it’s not your more dexterous hand, you’re tired, and can’t focus on searching for a nearby late-night bodega. You don’t notice Frank closing in until he’s taken your phone from under your nose. He completes the search quickly, and at this point, you’re more focused on taking care of the child in your arms than worrying about being this close to the estranged antihero slash the love of your life. That, and he’s getting smudges of red on your phone, but hey, you’re due for a new case anyway.

“There’s a place, about a block from here,” He says, quietly.

You look up in time to see him looking at you, and your breath catches; it’s so natural, and he’s so attractive, and you can’t help but yearn for him while he’s so close. You don’t say anything, just holding her close, unable to keep the eye contact with him. Frank Castle is a difficult man. He didn’t cry openly and shouted at the TV, he killed killers, had a feud with the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, and in all the time that you shared quarters he wasn’t the most open of all people. You can’t blame him, but now, it’s hard; you just want him back.

“Was this hers…?” he asks, looking to the woman.

“Yeah. I don’t usually…I didn’t even get her name,” you bite at your lip, feeling awful. You’ve never been this close to being caught, being killed, and it’s shaken you. You turn, taking your phone from Frank, and type a slow text to your contact, and walk away. “Lead the way. This girl’s hungry.”

He’s quiet, but he throws a jacket over his red-dirtied torso, hiding it. Once you both merge with the main thoroughfare of the city, he leads the way through the considerably less busy streets. It’s late, and yet the lights are still bright at this end of town. Frank moves toward a 7-11, and waits outside when you go in, and fill a basket with a tin of formula and the last doughnut on the shelf, half-stale from sitting there all day. The clerk who scans barely looks your way, tired, but you’re sure if a soccer mom saw you buying the formula, you’d get an earful of mommy-blog politics about it. But they ring you up, and you lead Frank to a Burger King, where you order a drink to sit at the table and start mixing up the formula in a paper cup for baby Jude as best as you can.

All the while, Frank is quiet.

It’s unnerving.

“…you know, I’m good at my job. And even if you didn’t show up, I would have been fine.” You talk, to fill the silence. If not, all you’d hear is the couple in the corner arguing about who cheated on who, and the probably teen hacker who types faster than you think at a beat-up laptop by the door. “But thanks. I’m just paying it forward - you won’t have to see me again.”

“Don’t go,” he says.

You pause, not sure you heard right. “Frank?”

“I fucked up,” his voice is gravelly, perhaps on the verge of emotion. If you didn’t know any better, this was as close to tears that you’d ever seen him. “It’s been hell without you. Can’t eat, or sleep. Max misses you. Karen stopped talking to me when she found out, same as Claire. Life sucks without you.”

“Frank…” you intone.

“I - I was after that family for the last month. Lousy bastards, the lot of them.” He growls. You don’t even realise that you’ve stopped mixing until Jude whines, and you keep at making the formula. You’re not a pro by a long shot, but it’s hard to focus on it, and Frank. “That guy got away from the scene, and when I saw - I had no clue you were East Wind.”

“East Wind is a fantasy made up by people who want a hero,” you mutter, testing the consistency. As you begin to feed Jude the mix, she laps it up, and you fixate on her, trying to focus on feeding her. “I’m not a hero.”

“But you are,” he rebuts. “To me. Baby, ________, please,” he pleads, leaning closer to you over the table. “I need you. I’ve been to hell and back but being where you ain’t is worse.”

You’re quiet, silent, taking in what he’s saying. Jude finishes lapping up the mix, and you position her on your shoulder, close to your neck. The couple arguing has stopped talking so loudly, and the kid on the laptop has stopped clacking at the keys. Even the machinery and noises of the Burger King are quieter, or so it seems.

“I -,”

“________, sorry I’m late,” Misty, your contact comes in, her street-clothes looking just as worse for wear as you feel. “Traffic was hell. This is the kid?” She asks. She looks between you, and Frank, and purses her lips. “You’re goddamned lucky I’m off-duty now, and too tired to care that I’m seeing the Punisher before me,” she grits between her teeth, glaring at Frank.  

“Friend of yours?” he asks you.

“Have you been to the scene yet?” you ask her, and she nods.

“I’ve sent my guys that way, it’ll be taped up in no time,” she replies, and motions to Jude, where she’s snuggled against your chest. “I’ll collect this little one now. Direct the heat off you and whatnot.”

“Has anyone said you’re an angel?” You smile.

“They’ve said the opposite, but then again wasn’t Lucifer one of them?” she grins and reaches for the baby. You’re hesitant to relinquish her; she’s grown warm in proximity to you, and as soon as she’s in Misty Knight’s arms, you feel slightly empty, like something’s missing. Damn. You never got this attached. “I see you’ve been busy.”

“You’ll be needing this stuff,” you replace the formula in the bag the cashier gave you. With a nod and a silent goodbye, Misty doesn’t spend a minute more in the building.

“I know how much you can’t give you that,” Frank whispers, glum. He takes a deep breath, and exhaling starts to leave. But you can’t help it but reach to him, hold him from going.

“You’re right,” you reply. “You can’t give me that. But there’s more than one way to have a baby. And there are too many damn foster kids, homeless kids, kids in vulnerable spaces that need caring for before I can even think of having one myself.” You lick your lips, wetting them for further exposition, but Frank interrupts you, closing the distance across the table with his mouth on yours. It feels good, tastes like black coffee and smells like iron, but it doesn’t fail to disarm you. “Frank…” you moan.

“I’m an idiot for letting you go.” He says, quiet. Just to you. “Come home. Please.”

You nod. “Okay,” you agree. “But Frank…” you tell him, looking into his eyes. “With you, I’m always home.”