#snatcher took extreme step

[slushie5544]

Intro to The Fall of a Star

Hi there so I've been working on this fic and it's sort of a sequel to "A Star is Born" which technically you don't have to read to understand this fic as most parts will be explained throughout the story! I'm actually a lot more proud of this than the previous fic! This is actually half of one chapter so in a way this is a teaser!

Words: 2,512

Characters: Dj Grooves, the Conductor, and mentions of snatcher!

Summary: After losing for so many years to the Conductor, DJ Grooves vows to make the greatest movie yet! However when he hits a terrible writer’s block the penguin he’s ready to give up until something quite literally hits him.

No one ever said writing stories was an easy task, let alone trying to write a story that could be the next big blockbuster hit! However, that never deterred DJ Astro, Grooves; ever since he was just a chick he had ideas and dreams that would spiral through his mind, just waiting to be shared with the world. Sure it had taken him many obstacles and challenges to finally get where he was, but he tried to see them as just stepping stones to his success! He was nearly thirty years old when he was given ownership of his own movie studio, well it was more or less half ownership. Nonetheless, despite the countless headaches and arguments with his neighboring director, Grooves counted it as one of the biggest achievements in his life. He finally was able to show the world what he was capable of!

Unfortunately for the director, the masses seemingly weren’t quite ready for the big new ideas he had. Every year he would go against his opponent, the Conductor and every year he would win with his old fashion train western movies. It wasn’t fair, Grooves tried so hard for years to bring something new to the table, but it never worked. That was, up until a couple of years ago.

~~

Tensions were high throughout the movie studio, everyone was either glued to their phone screens or surrounding the breakroom televisions. Nothing was getting done and it was all for good reason. For the first time in Dead Bird History the scores between the two rivals: DJ Grooves and the Conductor, were neck to neck! With the Conductor only being just a mere couple of votes behind it was an extremely close call for both parties, however, both parties took the news differently.

Moon penguins were dancing about and snapping their fins excitedly, their boss DJ Grooves was ecstatic, he had never felt so close to winning in his life. However, as for their neighbors across the studio, it was a different story. While it was expected for the Conductor to be a sore loser, he expected the other director to explode, or at least let out shouts. Instead, he was seemingly closed off to anything and everyone around him. His ears were flattened to his head; even the feathers around his neck that were normally so free were also close to his body. No one had ever seen the director so reserved before and it terrified the owls even more than usual. At least when he was screaming it was predictable what was going to happen. This almost felt like walking near a ticking time bomb that didn’t have a set detonation. No one even dared to go near the owlish creature. That was until

That was until Grooves finally decided to break the ice and possibly talk to the other. Though he had to admit, he wasn’t sure how to approach the brooding director. They did eventually bump into each other in the lobby, but it didn’t go quite as he thought it would.

The Conductor was hastily leaving his studio with his coat thrown over one of his shoulders and hat being pressed down over his head. He shouted something to the receptionist which caught Grooves and the other penguins off guard.

“AYE! I’m taking my leave early!”

The DJ penguin was quick to get in front of the creature who abruptly stopped in his tracks, but he let out what Grooves could only assume was a curse in another language as he shoved past him. His clawed hands were gripping the jacket and hat tightly and Grooves swore he could see the other trembling slightly. Was the Conductor really this prideful over a win? He never lost before and now that he was so close he just had to run away from it? Maybe something else came up! No, the timing was too perfect! Grabbing the other by the back of his white shirt Grooves pulled the Conductor back.

“And where do you think you are going, darling?”

“...”

No response at all from the Conductor, that was definitely a first. He didn’t let go though. Instead, he tried to ask again this time with a bit more concern.

“Conductor? Is everything alright?”

“..”

Though he once again didn’t speak the director’s shoulders raised to his neck as he attempted to keep his head low. A slight tremble came from the other’s body and this only solidified the worry in Groove’s mind.

“Is this really over the Dead Bird Award? It’s not the end of the world you know-”

“You have five seconds to get your flipper off of me, DJ Grooves.”

The penguin complied, taking his wing away and holding it behind his back. The Conductor continued to storm off but stopped as the sliding doors opened.

“If you get in my way again, I’ll ruin your career.”

Grooves took a step back and watched as the other director jumped into his train and left without even announcing his departure. Most of the Express Owls had to either find other modes of getting back home or simply stayed at the studio till the next morning.

By the last day of filming, it had been three days since the clash with the Conductor, and Grooves hadn’t seen or heard from him in those few days. It was starting to worry the penguin. However, that concern didn’t last long when he woke up that morning and checked his phone to see numerous messages and notifications about checking the final scores. His heart jumped a beat upon searching for the scores, with the Conductor having been gone for so long surely he had to be disqualified or at least he forfeited but his body went cold and his heart dropped upon seeing the scores:

CONDUCTOR: 1,439    DJ GROOVES: 1,419

He had made the mistake of clicking a link that was associated with a search and it was a video of the Conductor receiving his award laughing.

“That DJ Grooves couldn’t have made an award-winning movie even if he tried! His movies are nothing but loud, incoherent drive! And another thi-”

Grooves turned off his phone and tossed it to the side, he couldn’t let the Conductor get away with this! He had to have cheated! There was no way he could prove it, but those words from their last interaction replayed in his mind.

“I will ruin your carreer.”

He wasn’t going to let go! If stopping the Conductor meant he needed to buckle down and truly make the greatest movie out there, then so be it! He promised to not stop movie-making until he finally stopped the reign of the Conductor!

~~

There was only one small, tiny problem though. DJ Grooves had nothing, his mind blanked completely whenever he tried to type something. It was almost as if when an idea came to him and he started to type it, the idea left him just as quickly, as he tried listening to his favorite music, watching previous movies he had made, as a last ditch effort the penguin had almost watched one of the Conductor’s boring mystery movie. Almost. He would rather lose everything than give that owl a single ounce of his attention like that! Then again he wasn't far off from losing everything if he didn't make a movie!

With a sigh, the penguin rested his chin on his wing staring at the blank screen before him. The cursor blinked repeatedly, mocking him for not being able to start even a single sentence. For so long he was able to spew words onto his screen with ease, he never truly had to think about what he had to write. It was almost second nature for him to come up with new ideas for his movies! So why is it now, he can’t think of a single good idea!?

The clock that hung against the wall behind him ticked annoyingly reminding him of every second he wasted just sitting there. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t stop himself from looking down at the corner of his laptop to see the time, it was a quarter after eleven. Two whole hours of doing nothing. A groan erupted from the director’s beak as he closed his laptop then pushed himself away from his wooden desk and stood up, sliding on a pair of slippers.

Taking off his tinted star glasses, Grooves rubbed his sensitive eyes feeling a tense headache starting. He desperately needed a break, maybe some fresh air would help him clear his mind! He let out a yawn as he stretched back slightly while raising his arms behind his head. His luxurious Afro had been put in a light bun as he had planned to go to bed after he wrote, but  instead, now he was wandering the halls of his part of the studio. Everyone had gone home hours ago, even the hardheaded Conductor saying he had some ‘preparations’ he needed to do for his next movie.

That left the moon penguin in the empty building by himself, the fluorescent lights dimly lit hallways to which he looked at some of the yellow stars that were painted on some of the walls. Some of the paint was clearly becoming worn out as many stars faded with the blue background. A few drops of water also dripped on his beak making the penguin quickly back away and look up at the ceiling above him. Great, another pipe needed maintenance, just what he needed. He continued down the hall and finally made it to his dressing room, upon entering Grooves picked up his bright red jacket from the coat hook that he kept near the door and traded it for his equally bright, but fuzzy robe. He tried his best to not look directly at the pile of letters and newspapers near his door. Rent notices and papers full of reminders of his failures as a movie director.

Soon Grooves couldn’t take it much more and needed to get out of the room and left back down the hallway where he made his way to an elevator to go upstairs. He pressed the L button and leaned against the wall next to him as he listened to the soft space jazz. His wings were kept in his jacket pocket, and he could feel something in his inner pocket.  His heart dropped recognizing the piece of paper that he had with him. Despite his best judgment the penguin took out the rolled-up paper from his inner pocket and held it under one of the slightly brighter lights above him so he could inspect the writing.

“For as long as you make movies and keep one favor for me, I will allow you to own a recording studio with THE official Dead Bird Studios! If you do not comply with the following agreements both your -soul- studio and fortune fame will be taken from you.”

Looking at the bottom of the paper Grooves inspected his signature, it had nearly been ten years since he signed the contract and to this day the ink still looked fresh. The ghoulish stamp that was next to his name made him shiver, it reminded him so much of the raven-like creature he met and had made the contract with. He tried so hard to forget those hollowed glowing eyes of the bird that managed to tower over him, the laughter of that raven haunted him even more. He swore he could hear the cackling now as he looked down at the paper in his flippers. When the purple stamp started to glow the penguin let out a yelp and dropped the contract. Never had it glowed without him touching it, just as the paper landed on the floor the doors to the lift opened and he fumbled to grab the paper once again. He rolled the paper back up and stuffed it into his jacket, not wanting to look at that stamp anymore. 

Thankfully his thoughts were interrupted when something caught his attention, a bright flash of light illuminated one of the nearby rooms. He was cautiously walking up to the room with his wings ready in front of him to swat at anyone or anything. Upon getting just a bit closer there was another flash of light and this time a slight crash could be heard making the penguin jump slightly. He continued his way to the doorway where he finally saw the flashes of light had been coming from a window that was looking outside. He tiptoed to look out the window and let out a gasp. Multiple objects were seemingly falling from the sky! They were bright and falling quite fast! 

Was it a meteor shower? Surely something like that would have been announced! He saw another flash in the far distance which was followed shortly by the expected crashing noise. Grooves left the window and made his way to the lobby where he darted past the front sliding doors and hurried down the short hallway. From the windowed doors, the penguin could see something not too far from the parking lot shining brightly. Upon seeing the object his eyes were solely focused on it, and he felt as if he was being beckoned toward the glowing debris. 

As he opened the front doors of the studio he could hear the sound of music, it was calming yet captivating. He was being drawn to whatever it was that had been falling from the sky; not even noticing the other timepieces that landed in the lot. The subtle sounds of clocks ticking and the calming piano played along with soft tinkling sounds. As he inched closer to the object he barely even noticed how quiet everything outside the surrounding darkness became.

Wiping the dirt from the object Grooves finally picked up the item and was able to finally get a proper look at what he was holding. An hourglass? Not even a scratch was seen on the glass as he turned it around to inspect it. It glimmered under the moonlight as he held it up to the sky, the sand inside didn't even move when he turned it about. Before he could look any closer at the details of the hourglass the penguin looked up at the sky. A single bright flash from above him was what caught his attention, he squinted his eyes slightly behind his glasses and then put a wing to his forehead. Another flash and this time the object was seemingly getting bigger, not wait, it was getting closer! Unfortunately by the time he realized where it was landing the penguin could only widen his eyes and let out a squawk before he was blinded by a flash of light then everything went dark.

[rudrjobdesk]

महिला सिपाही ने झपटमारों से लिया लोहा तो उचक्‍कों ने चलती ट्रेन से फेंका बाहर

महिला सिपाही ने झपटमारों से लिया लोहा तो उचक्‍कों ने चलती ट्रेन से फेंका बाहर

कटिहार. बिहार के कटिहार जिले से सनसनीखेज खबर सामने आई है. अपराधियों ने एक महिला पुलिसकर्मी को चलती ट्रेन से धक्‍का दे दिया. इस घटना में महिला कांस्‍टेबल बुरी तरह से घायल हो गईं. बेहतर इलात के लिए उन्‍हें कटिहार मेडिकल कॉलेज में भर्ती कराया गया है. झपटमारों का गिरोह चलती ट्रेन में आपराधिक घटनाओं को अंजाम दे रहे थे. महिला पुलिसकर्मी ने उसका विरोध किया. अपराधियों के हौसले इतने बुलंद थे कि पुलिस से…

[platypanthewriter]

Lazerbeamy Strongman

Day One of Harringrove AUgust, prompt: Superhero AU

Steve Harrington, newly hired reporter and resident Wholesome Nice Guy, kept sidling over to Billy’s desk to read his interview questions. It was hard enough coming up with questions for a superhero who could fly, hold up falling skyscrapers, and shoot lasers from his eyes. The memory of the pulse of blue light blowing out the engine block of the armed robber’s getaway car made Billy shudder.

‘Are the lasers under complete control,’ he typed. ‘Could you be startled into vaporizing the city?’

Directly behind his chair, Harrington snorted a laugh.

“Shut up, Hawkins Indiana,” Billy told him.

Harrington didn’t move.

“Cut this shit out, or I’m squirting you with a bottle,” Billy told him, through a bite of ham’n’rye sandwich. “You keep climbing all up in my business, you’re gonna get Lysol between the eyes.”

“Sorry,” Harrington said, looking abashed, but his eyes still strayed to Billy’s screen, and Billy grabbed the Lysol, spraying a whole cloud as Steve dove back to his own desk. He ducked his head as the editor of the Planet walked by.

A few hours later, Billy caught him staring at the list of questions again, from way too far away, really—it wasn’t like Harrington could actually read Billy’s screen from the coffee machine, but he looked suspiciously intent, so Billy stalked over.

“Can you see my questions from there?! Are those huge nerd frames telescopic, or—just—what the fuck, dude,” he muttered, squinting over at his desk. He could make out that Microsoft Word was open, maybe. Maybe. “How the hell,” Billy growled, turning his glower on Harrington, who stared innocently out the window, sipping his coffee.

“How could I possibly,” Harrington said, not meeting Billy’s eyes as he drank the last of his mug of coffee, and Billy took the last of the coffee in the pot just to spite him, and stalked off.

Ten minutes later, he scooted his chair back and hit Harrington’s jeans with his elbow, and Harrington stumbled back, like he hadn’t been reading over Billy’s shoulder. “Are you a fucking cat?!” Billy hissed. “I’m gonna get one of those invisible fences and shock you every time you try to sneak my interview questions—”

“You’re better at interviews than me,” Steve told him, shrugging and rubbing the back of his neck in the annoyingly ‘aw, shucks’ way Billy was fairly sure couldn’t be sincere. “Just interested.”

“I don’t think you’re gonna have the opportunity to use these questions again,” Billy said drily. “Unless you’re gonna ask the next CEO you write up which planet he’s from, and how his clothes don’t burn off when he pulls people out of burning buildings.”

Harrington shrugged, grinning. “Um, I was actually gonna ask, what are you doing tonight? After wor—”

“Staking out the roof of the police department,” Billy told him, walking away to his desk—backwards, so he could yell. “He keeps leaving criminals up there. With notes! Thirty-percent higher chance on Friday nights!”

When the spandex-clad hero landed, cape aflutter, Billy leapt out. “To whom am I speaking?” he asked, in a breathless but calm professional voice.

“Just a moment, citizen,” said the hero, running his fingers through his hair and winking at Billy, and it was the first time he’d seemed like a real person, albeit a pickup artist, and not a comic book cliche.

He bent to handcuff three unconscious bruisers to the roof, prodding a muscled, fishnet-stockinged leg back towards the woman it belonged to. “Ah,” he said, when he stood back up, his hands on his hips like he’d practiced his dumb hero pose in the mirror. “I must go! Crime never waits!”

“What the hell,” Billy shouted after him, waving his notepad.

The next morning, Harrington looked smug. “How’d it go?” he asked, like he knew, and Billy sat on the asshole’s desk and drank, in turn, from both mugs of coffee. “Hey, isn’t that one mine?!” Harrington asked, and Billy stuck his tongue in it, swishing it around.

“Not anymore,” he said sweetly, and Harrington stared at him. “And it went great, obviously. He totally listened to his public and didn’t just fly off after acting like a shithead.”

“Wait, what’d he do?!” Harrington yelped, staring. “I—I read he, uh, he brought in the leaders of three different gangs!”

“Yeah, like a shithead,” Billy repeated, draining Harrington’s favorite mug, licking it, and handing it to him, empty. “And I froze my nuts off for four hours waiting for him to come back. That’s how it went. Shithead.”

“Oh,” Harrington said, frowning into his empty mug, as Billy wandered back to his desk with his own, ignoring Harrington’s mumbled “I mean, maybe—maybe he’s got to keep, like, his identity secret—”

“I didn’t ask for his goddamn alter ego, I was asking general shit,” Billy shot back, growling, and waving the hand without coffee in it. “Or I was going to!”

The next time Billy saw the shithead, he ran straight at him, dodging the falling debris, until abruptly he was flying.

“What are you doing,” the shithead hissed, his arms warm and strong as they carried Billy to the top of another damn building. “We’re under fire.”

“That’s your job,” Billy hissed at him. “My job is this damn interview. What kinds of disasters are you most likely to help with? Does Search and Rescue have your number?”

“Stay here,” the shithead commanded, and flew off, leaving Billy stranded on the top of a skyscraper. He spent the next hour trying to pinpoint the name of the building on Google Maps, before finally finding a number to call to let him in.

“I heard you ran right into the wreckage,” said Harrington, like he was worried, and Billy scoffed.

“I’ve worked warzones,” he said. “I can handle a car accident.”

“The viaduct collapsed,” Harrington said weakly, like a coward. “You were almost crushed by a flaming bus.”

“I also didn’t get even one question answered,” Billy muttered, glaring at the list on his screen, and Harrington stared from him to it. “I’m gonna have to grappling hook that shithead.”

“Um,” Harrington said, wincing. “He seems kind of...busy, usually, when he’s—”

“So am I,” Billy told him, reaching up and prodding his coworker’s shoulder. “I have won Pulitzers, I have better shit to do than spend my nights shouting questions at some shithead who can’t be assed to tell anyone his name, let alone answer some basic peace-of-mind questions like—” he made air quotes, “—‘to what degree do you feel obligated to help humanity?’”

“He’s kind of new,” Harrington said, wincing. “Maybe he doesn’t have, a um, a super...name, yet? Maybe he doesn’t want to say, like, ‘hello, good citizen, I am Lazerbeamy Strongman’—”

“Oh jesus,” Billy snorted, choking on his coffee.

“Hello, I’m Captain Awesomesauce,” Harrington groaned, his cheeks red for some reason. “I’m Rad-Dude.”

“Oh fuck me,” Billy coughed out, cackling. “So you’re saying he’s a moron.”

“I did not,” Harrington huffed, and Billy grinned at him.

“Are you a fan, Harrington? I saw you run right over to look at the latest pictures of him. That why you’re trying to edge in on my interview?”

“No!” Harrington groaned, rolling his eyes. “I just think you put all this...thought into this, and maybe he’s just helping out, you know, like anybody. Like if somebody calls the police on a purse snatcher, you don’t ask them why, or like, how much help they’re gonna be in future—”

“He wears a cape,” Billy pointed out. “He put a goddamn cape on, and he’s wearing some kind of themed onesie, and he says stuff like ‘Hello, innocent bystander,’ and that’s all weird as hell, so he better answer some questions. This isn’t somebody who was just there—he came on purpose, and he doesn’t want people to know who he is, or he’d talk to me—”

“Heroes wear capes!” Harrington argued, rolling his eyes again. “Maybe it’s a little creepy when you ambush people. On the roof of the police station.”

“We gotta call him something,” Billy told him, rolling his eyes. “He can answer my questions, or he can have every investigator in three cities trying to figure out his angle. He’ll be a police file five inches thick by this weekend.”

“Oh no,” Harrington said, wide-eyed, and Billy snorted.

“The hell d’you care?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “You think he’s a moron who calls himself Lazerbeamy Strongman.”

“No,” Harrington said quickly, grimacing. “No, I just, uh. It’d...it’d suck if he’s just...trying to help.”

“If he’s just trying to help, he can give me something reassuring to publish, even if it’s just that he’s calling himself ‘Mr. Neato McCheeto’. People need to hear that he’s not going to use those laser eyes to shoot planes out of the sky.”

“Fuck you, he’s helping,” Harrington said sullenly, covering a snicker.

When Billy left for lunch, he bought the guy one of the badly painted caped bobbleheads already circulating the city, and left it on his desk.

“Oh no,” he heard Harrington say in horrified tones when he found it.

The third time Billy caught the new superhero, he was flying everyone to the tops of buildings. “Oh, fuck you,” Billy groaned, his body held in strong arms while his hands investigated the texture of the cape.

“She turned the ground into actual lava,” the shithead hissed at him. “I’ll get you down when you can walk without turning into a pillar of flame.”

“You better be back within the hour, or I will step off the edge,” Billy threatened, and the shithead groaned. “What’s your cape made of?” Billy yelled after him.

“I’ll come get you,” the shithead yelled back, and Billy sat down to wait, and write some preliminary scene setting. Metropolis’ newest hero shuffles a street of pedestrians onto the roofs of buildings in under a minute, before emptying the cars. Below him, Shithead was dodging around, trying to talk to the small child waving a wand and spraying lava.

Shithead did reappear, though, within the hour. He wasn’t even panting or sweating, and Billy eyed him with extreme dislike. He took the other people down, and Billy yelled threats after him, fully expecting to get stranded again, but Shithead flew back up and floated in front of him, his arms folded like Billy was supposed to be impressed.

“I’ll answer your questions,” he muttered, glowering.

“What’s your name,” Billy asked, wasting no time, because the wind on the skyscraper was sliding through his coat like he was naked. He shivered, turtling deeper into his scarf, and Shithead reached out, his hand twitching towards Billy.

“We—I can take you somewhere else? Somewhere warmer,” he offered awkwardly.

“Somewhere there’s coffee,” Billy growled, and the shithead laughed, grinning at him, and then stepped close to lift Billy again, but didn’t do it.

He just stood so close Billy could feel him breathing, holding his arms up like a scarecrow, and Billy groaned and turned to put his arms around the neck of a goddamn superhero and got scooped up like he was a damsel in distress. He sighed, disgusted, as Shithead took them back to the Daily Planet, dropped down past the roof, and landed them on the glassed-in balcony where Billy went when it was a choice between 1) smoke or 2) commit homicide.

Billy stared. “Have you been watching me,” he hissed, and the damn hero raised his hands.

“There’s coffee here,” he said, grimacing, and Billy stalked past him, by Harrington’s desk—the slacker was missing, and Billy snorted dismissively, and then remembered not everyone had had a ride back through the freezing wind. He shivered so hard as he poured the coffee he nearly spilled it, and whispered a brief prayer to Saint Drogo, patron saint of coffee and the insane, for his intervention in saving Billy’s water of life. The first sip told him it had been sitting on the burner, and his tongue curled in his mouth, his nose wrinkling, but he could feel it warming his veins and brain.

Shithead was still waiting on the balcony, frowning out over the city, and Billy watched him, taking another sip of the acrid coffee.

“Why d’you float like that,” he asked, and the weirdo blinked at him.

“Oh, um,” he said, frowning down, and reddening. “Uh, is this...on the record?”

“...not if you say it isn’t,” Billy said, leaning back into a creaky plastic chair, and putting his feet up on another.

“This outfit is sturdy enough to not burn up, but the feet get dirty if I walk,” Shithead said, grimacing.

“Your footie pajamas get dirty if you walk outside,” Billy said flatly, sighing. “This is an amazing start. On the record now—what’s your name, hero?”

“Oh! Ummm,” he said, wincing.

“Christ,” Billy groaned, pinching his brows together.

“"I'm...very...strong...ness..." the moron trailed off, and Billy stared at him.

“Try again,” he said.

“My sidekick—”

“You have a sidekick,” Billy interrupted, holding his pen up. “Nobody’s seen a sidekick.”

“He tells me when things happen, so I can help. He doesn’t go out there,” Shithead said, looking horrified, and for once sounding reasonable.

“Ah. Carry on,” Billy said, writing sidekick?? in the margin to address later.

“He thinks I should go by Encyc—oh, no,” he slapped a fist into his hand in realization, “It was Atlas,” the unnamed hero said, and Billy narrowed his eyes.

“Fair enough,” he said, about to ask why that didn’t out-rate ‘Very Strongness’, but the shithead crossed his arms with a huff.

“It makes no sense, I’m not a book,” he said, and Billy stared at him.

“You’re exactly the moron he thought you were,” he said disbelievingly. “You’re an idiot.”

“Hey! I—I just—I saved you from lava,” Shithead protested. “I saved you from a falling bus!”

“We gotta workshop this,” Billy said, groaning into his hands. “I’ll help you, because you did do all those things. And more to the point, I can’t make every news agent in the city say something that stupid every time you’re in the news.”

“What about Superguy,” the hero asked, leaning in enthusiastically. “Great...dude? Mister Awesome!”

“Fuck my life,” Billy sighed, laughing in despair. “What about something based on your powers—”

“Muscle-lasers! Musclasers?” the idiot suggested excitedly, and Billy smacked himself in the face again.

“What about just like...Knight Errant. You’ve got that kind of...shield shape on your chest—”

“Oooo,” Shithead said, floating closer, and Billy put a foot up and nudged him further away. “Because just Knight could get confusing, huh, like on the radio,” he said, and Billy wondered whether he did have a brain, and it just shorted out, like, most of the time. Maybe it was the lasers.

“D’you want to see the sunset,” Knight Errant asked, and Billy blinked at him. “You’re off work, right? I promise I won’t run, I’ll answer your questions,” he said, grimacing. “But...do you? The sunset over the city?”

As a career reporter in Metropolis, Billy could hardly refuse, and he tried to remind his libido of that while he lay cradled in strong arms, warm against Knight Errant’s chest, watching the sun set and the lights come on all over his city.

He was close enough to hear the hero’s stomach growl, and they got sandwiches from a street cart to chomp on during the interview. After that, Knight Errant flew them to a small loft apartment on the edge of the industrial district, and Billy wandered around trying the faucets, fascinated by how normal it all was.

“My apartment’s off the record, right?” Knight Errant asked, with belated nervousness.

“Yeah, sure,” Billy laughed. “I protect my sources. So. You...get hungry?” Billy asked, watching him put away enough food for four people.

“I’m just a person,” Knight Errant muttered, wiping mustard off his chin. He’d taken his cape off, and pushed the onesie down to his waist. In the dim light of the city, he looked familiar, though Billy couldn’t place him—and attractive, the shadows on his abs and arms making him look like he’d been painted in chiaroscuro.

It felt like a date, was the thing.

“Search and rescue does have my number, or a way to get ahold of me, anyway.” Knight Errant sighed. “There’s nowhere in the outfit for a phone. I mean, it’d melt, anyway, first time I flew into a burning building,” he pointed out, and Billy nodded slowly, talking to a hero about his revealing costume, and wondering whether he’d been sucked into the Twilight Zone.

“There sure isn’t anywhere to hide anything,” he agreed, remembering.

“Sometimes I don’t help them,” Knight Errant confessed. “—but I can’t—I help where I can. I have to sleep too.”

“You sleep?” Billy asked, cocking his head at the shadowy king-sized bed in the corner. He wondered whether the moron had different-patterned footie pajamas to sleep in, possibly with sheep on them. And a woolly sheep cape.

“I sleep. I have a job,” the man sighed.

“Thanks for saving me from the lava,” Billy said, belatedly. “And I...probably would’ve been crushed by that bus.”

“Anytime,” the hero of Billy’s city said, stepping close with a grin. “You have to be more careful. I’d hate to lose my favorite reporter.”

“You talk to all the others already?” Billy asked, laughing, his heart pounding as he stepped closer.

“Nah. I know it’ll always be you,” the moron said, grinning with an incomprehensible mixture of mischief and sweetness, and Billy kissed him.

The next morning, Billy hitched a ride to work in the arms of his superhero. He took the time to straighten his jacket and tie after the wind, and found Harrington at his desk, holding a mug of coffee, his eyes huge and weird in the absurdly thick glasses.

“Had a good night?” he asked, smugly, and Billy shot him a suspicious glare, and flipped him off.

Here’s the rest of my Harringrove (and everything else)

[erekiosuncreativeideas]

Being Human - Chapter 23

<= Chapter 22

Summary : Snatcher is taken to a familiar room of the manor. Also available on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/24826561/chapters/74145501

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

(Trigger warning for this chapter : emotional abuse and creepy situation)

HEEEEEEY NEW CHAPTER

SO. Let me put some dates here.

Sunday 4th of April 2021 : chapter 24 will be posted. Thursday 8th of April 2021 : chapter 25 (last chapter) will be posted.

Why do I wait a few days to post the last chapters ? Because I want to draw for them, and, if possible, make as many drawings I can. Hopefully, you'll like this chapter and the last two as well ! Thank you for remaining so passionate about this story since its beginning, it means a lot to me !

The “Oh The Humanity” AU belongs to @doodledrawsthings​​ !

Uh if you’re interested, I post my progress on my chapters on Hatty Fan Time (the AHIT Discord server I’m moderating with two friends), so if you wanna join, go ahead !

Happy reading !

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Chapter 23 : “I can do this, I can… I will do this.”   

-“There we are,” sing-sang the Queen, opening the door leading to the nursery. To Snatcher’s horror, while the room was still relatively damaged, mostly with claw marks on the walls, it remained recognizable. The sight was enough to give him flashbacks of the time they had commissioned this room, of the time they had entered it the first time after it was completed- The former ghost could remember it like it was yesterday: the couple had been so happy, staying in the room for a good hour, imagining how their child would be like, how they wanted to give them as much love as possible… But none of that ever happened.

Instead, the Subcon Freezing had happened, ruining all hope for Snatcher to ever have kids, ruining his dreams of having a family with the woman he loved so, so much.

And now, he was back in that cursed room, a room that was reminding him of what could have been, had things been different.

Snatcher had no choice but to rely on Vanessa so he wouldn’t put any weight on his broken ankle. No need to say this was frustrating… And extremely frightening, having to depend on the one who had mercilessly killed you. The former ghost knew he had no choice anyway and he could do nothing but clench his teeth, hoping nothing would happen. With a swift gesture, the Queen grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him inside, soon closing the door behind them. The sudden movement made him cry out in pain as it forced his body to put weight on his injured ankle. It didn’t take long for Vanessa to notice what had happened and she quickly helped him to straighten, a sickening smile painted on her face.

-“There, there,” she cooed: “It’s okay. You know what you need ?” she then asked, completely out of the blue. A look of fear crossed his features as he heard her words. Oh, this couldn’t be good, now, could it…? The Queen remained silent after her own question and her face grew irritated, which were pretty good indicators that she was waiting for an answer from him. With this realization, the child quickly realized he had to give her a sign, anything- and so, unable to speak, he just shook his head, his whole body trembling from the pain, the fear and the cold.

Seeming satisfied with Snatcher’s reply, even if non-vocal, she smiled again and quickly picked him up without any warning. Naturally, out of surprise, the former ghost gasped and started to struggle. How could he not, when his own murderer was holding him in her arms, without any difficulty? However, it didn’t take much to convince him otherwise: Vanessa’s warning glare and the pain in his ankle from the movements were more than enough.

-“Now, now,” she sermonized him, all while carrying him to the crib. As soon as she got them both closer, he guessed her intents, and his face paled up. God, this nightmare was just becoming even worse- she was going to put him into the crib where their child should have been hundreds of years ago, should they have been born.

This was so disturbing, so creepy-…! But, apparently, Vanessa wasn’t seeing anything wrong with this. She really was taking him for a child, a child she had to care for.

This was sickening.

-“W-wait!” he interrupted her just as she was about to lower him into the pink crib, and she gave him both a confused and annoyed look.

-“What’s the matter?” she asked back, narrowing her eyes and furrowing her brow. Oh, this wasn’t good.

-“I’m… I’m too old to be in a cradle,” he tried, hoping this would be enough, though he couldn’t help but giggle nervously, his eyes looking away in fear they’d see anger on the Queen’s face, maybe worse. She stared at him for a moment… And soon enough, a light laughter left her lips, all trace of annoyance gone from her face, as if those had never been there in the first place.

-“Oh ho ho,” she took a deep breath as she finished laughing, sighing. Snatcher… Didn’t like that.

-“W-what…?” he wondered, his voice trembling from uncertainty and dread. Why would she laugh at something like this?

-“Oh, silly one,” she replied, an even more sickening smile painted on her ghostly lips, one that was letting him see her sharp fangs: “You need to rest, and I have the perfect bed for that. Your age doesn’t matter, does it? Cribs are for children, and you are one, don’t you?” she retorted, as if this was oh so very obvious.

Perhaps she had remained too unstable for years to remember cradles were for young infants, or toddlers. Her madness had affected her perception of reality, so much that she couldn’t see the problem here- or maybe she did, though in that case, why would she care? She had murdered him centuries ago, she wouldn’t feel guilty about forcing a kid into a crib!

And, well, it wasn’t like he could struggle more, seeing his injured ankle. After all, not only did this hurt, but this was also a very good warning of what could happen to him should he resist more. All of his instincts were crystal clear: “wait for the right opportunity”, they instructed him. And so, as the Queen lowered him into the cradle, Snatcher did his best not to cringe at the thought and didn’t resist. Once done, Vanessa stepped back and looked at him with a twisted fondness, one that made Snatcher want to throw up. Though he knew better and stayed still and silent.

-“Aaaw, look at you!” the Queen cooed, as if this was the cutest thing she had even seen in years- which was probably the case, in hindsight: “See, you fit just right!” At this remark, the young Prince examined the crib. Yeah, sure, he could fit while sitting- but lying down? This was another story. With the body of a twelve years old kid, or around that age, it was obvious this was the worst choice ever for a bed.

Although… Although this was much, much better than being put in Vanessa’s, he just realized. A chill ran down his spine at the thought. Yeah… Yeah, the cradle wasn’t so bad in comparison.

Snatcher’s thoughts were interrupted as he heard a clap of hands next to him- and unsurprisingly, it was her.

-“Good!” she spoke again: “Now that you’re ready to rest, I’ll bake some cookies!” She started to walk to the door and the former shade felt relieved at the idea of her leaving him alone- but just before exiting the room, she stopped and turned to him, a knowing smile on her lips:

-“Stay in the bed and sleep, alright?” she told him, and Snatcher had no trouble to detect that this was not a suggestion: “I don’t want anyone running around here. Otherwise, there will be consequence. Have I made myself clear… Uh…” she stopped for a moment, thinking, before tilting her head to the side: “Wait, what is your name? I don’t think I asked you before, did I?”

Oh. Oh crap. He obviously couldn’t give her his old name, this was the worst possible thing to do- but what other name could he use? Obviously, if he took too much time to decide, she would know… And yet, no words could leave his mouth.

Snatcher was simply paralyzed. At no time he had expected her to ask about his name- but how could he not think of anything like this?

-“Well?” she urged him, getting suspicious. Oh no, oh no, he had to find something, quick…!

-“Lu...” he tried, hoping he’d find a name close to his old one, something that would easily evoke close forms of the name “Lukas”, he lacked too much time to think more. But nothing was coming in his mind: “Lu…!”

The Queen frowned, confused.

-“Lulu?” she repeated, as a confirmation she had understood. Instantly, a wave of relief washed over him, though he did his best to hide it as much as he could.

-“Y-yes,” he nodded weakly, with a trembling smile: “That’s… That’s my name, yes,” he lied, trying so hard to keep his “happy mask” on. As a response, Vanessa stared at him, as if she were watching for any sign of lie in his words, in his expression. Snatcher hands were becoming clammy from how dreadful this whole situation was, his heart was beating loud and fast in his chest, he was doing his best to keep his breathing under control, no matter how difficult this was… And, finally…!

-“This is such a cute name!” exclaimed Vanessa with glee, clasping her hands once more: “Well, Lulu. I hope I can trust you, right?” Another warning, one that was even more obvious than the last one. The former ghost forced himself to smile again, despite how insincere it must have looked- but perhaps Vanessa was too unstable to see it, or so he hoped.

-“Of… Of course!” he lied again, with a nod: “I’ll just… Sleep and wait for you to come back,” he assured, hoping this would suffice. And fortunately…

-“Perfect!” her face lightened up, yet Snatcher couldn’t tell if she was fully convinced. In any case, she grabbed the door handle and waved at him affectionately, like a mother would do to her child. This was… Extremely upsetting, given the circumstances. Still, the child merely forced another smile… And let out a huge sigh of relief as the Queen finally left the room.

Gods, this had been much, much more terrorizing than anything he could have potentially imagined.

Doing everything he could to remain silent, the young Prince listened closely to her steps slowly getting away, and waited a few more minutes, just to be sure. When he was sure she was definitely far away from this room, Snatcher tried to straighten up, only to be cut short by the acute pain on his ankle. Oh yeah.

There was this problem too.

The former ghost winced and frowned. What could he do for that? He couldn’t possibly escape with such an injury… Not only would it hurt, but he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to move discreetly. With Vanessa being in the room under this one… Oh, yes, she would definitely hear him. Then what? It wasn’t like he could miraculously heal that ankle-

However, his body froze as a stroke of genius burst in his mind. Maybe, just, maybe this could work… Frowning and wincing in advance, not really sure if this would succeed… Snatcher moved his hands to his broken ankle and closed his eyes, focusing.

He had learnt healing magic in his past life… Now, it was just a matter of hoping this small and frail body would allow him to use it. And so, the former ghost tried to find the small spark of magic he still had under this form. Breathing in and out, it was like trying to find something that was now hidden in the depth of his mind, something that felt so familiar and yet so foreign.

“Come on…” he urged himself, feeling himself getting closer and closer to that feeling he was trying so hard to find. Healing magic wasn’t as easy as fire one for him, one of the main reasons being that his mother’s family had been gifted with the power of fire. Summoning flames was thus easier for him- healing magic, though? This was a complete new story. While fire had been easy to learn at the time, him being a natural at it, the other types of magic had to be learnt the traditional way, with teachers, a lot of reading and study times, and getting familiarized with the elements you were learning.

Of course, in his situation, Snatcher couldn’t really use any of those things. All he could do was trying to focus… And soon enough, he began to feel tingles at the tips of his fingers. Yes, this is what he had been looking for! A small smile of victory spread on his lips, but he did his best to remain focused. In the meantime, the child could feel his injured ankle becoming number and number to the pain, and maybe… Bones shifting around a bit, though it was more uncomfortable than actually painful. This was working, this was working, he knew it, he knew he could-!

And suddenly, Snatcher felt like he lost all grasp on his magic. Shocked, the former shade opened his eyes, the tingling sensation in his fingertips quickly disappearing as if it had never been there at all. Why? Confusion spread onto his features and he looked at his hands, almost hoping he’d see what went wrong. But everything seemed normal.

And in fact, it was, thinking about it. The fact that he had been able to summon healing magic when he was in a body inexperienced with it… Was already quite an achievement, and it made sense it wouldn’t last, that this would be too unstable for that.

The former ghost tentatively moved his ankle, already wincing in advance in fear of how much it would hurt- but it wasn’t as painful as he had first thought. He slowly and carefully palpated his skin, trying to feel what had changed. Sure, touching it hurt, however… However, he was almost sure that his bones weren’t broken anymore.

He had managed to heal the biggest part of his injury. A long sigh of relief left his lips: things were… Going really well. But Snatcher was far from being over with this, oh, very, very far. He still had to escape this cursed place.

As silently as he could, Snatcher straightened up and hopped over the guardrail of the crib. His feet met the floor with a muffled sound, which was enough to scare him: had Vanessa heard anything? The sudden pressure on his ankle made his face tensed greatly though he managed to contain the urge to whine in pain.

This body was definitely one of a child… But to the former shade, he was sure that his mind had been altered to a degree, and this was not something he liked. He had to find the kids and Moonjumper, making sure they were alive, that he had managed to save them… And have the brats returning him to his adult for- no, his spirit form. Yes, that was what he wanted, and for a moment, he felt confused as to why this hadn’t been the first thing popping in his mind.

What was happening to him…?

The child forced his mind to focus back on reality: this wasn’t the time for questions. Who knew how much time he had before Vanessa decided to check up on him? If he had to try something, without getting caught, this was literally now or never. Waiting was dangerous, especially if his friends needed him- it was really cold outside, freezing even… Would he even get there on time? He was pretty far away, especially on foot…

“No,” he tried to reassure himself: “I can do this, I can… I will do this.”

Determination was now fueling inside of him, almost making him forget the pain in his ankle and how low the temperatures were in the manor. He himself was also on a time limit: his fragile body would become less efficient the colder it would get- Snatcher couldn’t lose any more time.

Slowly, silently, the child moved to the door and slightly opened it. Good, it hadn’t been locked, and he couldn’t hear anything coming closer, whether it was a voice or steps. Another sigh of relief left his lips, and after hesitating a bit… The young Prince took a deep breath and moved forward, entering the hallway with a mix of apprehension, fear, and resolve.

He was going to leave this manor and find his friends again.

This was a promise.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

ONLY TWO CHAPTERS LEFT

I hope you liked this chapter, I can't wait to show you the ending of this fanfiction ! Thank you so much for following me this far, and I hope you'll be there for my next fanfic too ! (I already have an idea of the story, so now it's a matter of making it better and actually writing it).

See you next Sunday !

=> Chapter 24

[baskervilleshound]

Her Cookies Were to Die For (PART 4)

Snatcher’s eyes narrowed, and he began to wring his claws. He looked agitated…and confused.

“You…looked inside me? Kid, that’s a little screwed up, I have to say,” the ghost finally said. “I didn’t know your mask could look inside people.”

“It can’t!” Hat Kid squeaked. “But you’re not listening to me- something is literally strangling you in there! The spiky thing is stuck, and then there’s these strings that are squeezing your insides. We…we have to take it out…?? But I don’t even know if that’s possible….PECK!”

Snatcher was taken aback by how frantic Hat Kid was getting. He had seen Hat Kid disgruntled, sure. When he had made her clean that haunted outhouse, the little pipsqueak had been disgusted, and furious! She had been so mad at him for that- he could see it on her little face. Oh, he could almost smile at the memory. But not right now.

The kid was freaking out. Over something inside him. Was that even possible? Apparently, according to Hat, it was. But honestly, he didn’t want to think about it, and decided he wasn’t going to.

“Listen kiddo, that mask probably just…messed up or something. Or maybe you’re just losing your mind. That seems to be more possible, given your track record of willingly falling to your death out of my trees all over something as silly as yarn.”

Snatcher laughed and shook his head, yawning.

Hat Kid stamped her foot, barely missing the mask on the floor.

“No, I’m not crazy! I saw it, Snatcher! It moved! I saw--!”

“Who’s ready for breakfast?”

Both Snatcher and Hat Kid turned to see Cooking Cat in the doorway once again.

“Come on. That’s enough bickering then. You’re probably both just a little hangry.”

Hat Kid let out a huff and crossed her arms before turning her back on Snatcher and walking out her door. Snatcher caught a whiff of the bacon, and immediately pulled himself out from under the pillows and blanket. If the kid was mad at him or not, he wasn’t missing out on such a delicious, greasy treat.

Hat Kid sat alone at her large captain’s chair, a plate of blueberry pancakes on her lap. She simply stared at the planet revolving below her ship through the gigantic glass window. Snatcher coiled himself on the floor cozily, munching on a rather copious amount of bacon. He was a rather large creature, and Cooking Cat had certainly been aware of that fact as she cooked for him.

If Snatcher wasn’t so full of pride, he would have admitted that he was very thankful for the consideration. However, he was. So no one would be getting any thanks. Not today.

Cooking Cat looked at Hat Kid, who was still turned out and staring at the sky, and then Snatcher, who seemed to not have a care in the world.

“What did you do to her, hm?” questioned CC as she suspiciously eyed Snatcher. “Do I need to take that plate away from you to get an answer?”

“I didn’t do anything. No contracts, no chores, nothing. I just took a nap. That’s all,” Snatcher said nonchalantly, pouring the rest of the bacon in his mouth and swallowing it whole so Cooking Cat wouldn’t even have the chance to take it from him.

With a cocky wink, he handed her his empty plate.

“If you weren’t sick, I’d step on your tail,” said the cat.

“He thinks I’m stupid, and won’t listen to me even though I saw something spiky hurting him in his tummy,” Hat Kid finally cut in as she slowly spun around in her chair. “He’s a big meanie.”

“Kid, I’m not even bein’ mean! If you want, I could write up a few chores for you to do in my forest again- now that would be mean.” The Snatcher laughed, hard, before wiping a nonexistent tear from his eyes.

“Now those were good times- we should do it again!”

Snatcher didn’t get a response from either Hat Kid, or Cooking Cat. But he didn’t mind. Honestly, he needed to get back to his forest, anyways.

“Welp, I’ve got lots of stuff to do today. Gotta recount my minions and make sure they’re all doing their jobs. Smell ya later, kid!” Snatcher cackled before vanishing from the ship.

“Ugh. Bye,” Hat Kid grumbled, spinning in her chair once more as she poked at her pancakes.

---

Once Snatcher was back in his hallow home, he picked up the gift box that had been sent to him by Vanessa, along with the note, and disposed of it. He was mad that he even dared to eat those cookies. They made him sick!

He should have known better than to eat anything sent by her. He should have known better, especially after what she had done to him years ago over the bacon. She had undercooked it, so badly that it made him very ill. Snatcher had a horrible feeling that she had done it on purpose- she always acted so weird whenever he enjoyed his breakfast.

Vanessa would sigh and watch him with a cold distant look in her eyes. Almost a look of hatred at the fact that he found so much pleasure in his favorite food…and not her in that very moment, instead.

So, she made him ill. He remembered being ill for days after that breakfast. By the time he had gotten over it, he had lost a good amount of weight- so much so that his pants were loose by the end of it. He had needed a belt.

And then…when she learned he still did enjoy bacon even after being incredibly sick from it, she banned it from the castle entirely.

All because…Vanessa hadn’t wanted him to like that food, more than her…

Well I still like bacon very much, so there. Joke’s on you, Vanessa.

Was it just his mind playing tricks on him, or was thinking about that time bacon made him sick making him queasy?

Immediately, Snatcher grew angry. Still feeling ill, yes, but also angry. How DARE he still let Vanessa’s memory taunt him so. He wasn’t weak- he didn’t care about her! So why was he suddenly starting to feel so…oh god, so nauseous…?

Quickly, the ghost darted out the door of his home. As expected, his minions were stood in line for their monthly counting.

“Hey, boss!” a few of them chimed the moment that Snatcher showed his face outside.

“All of you. Go away. Scram! You get the day off, shoo!” Snatcher barked, urgently waving the minions away as he floated past them.

“Boss, what’s wrong with your face?”

“You’re turning blue, boss!”

“Haha, you told the kid you can’t turn blue! Such a kidder! You sure showed her!”

“I swear- I will eat every single one of you if you don’t go away right now,” Snatcher hissed.

Nearly the entire army of minions shrugged before disbanding, cheering about how they had a day off.

Thank heavens.

Snatcher immediately made himself scarce. He went to hide in the best place that he could think to go. The place where no one would willingly go unless they wanted to die by the hands that came up from underneath ominously black muck- the bog. It was already disgusting there. Not a soul would be close by if he were to get sick again- and Snatcher felt at this point that it was extremely likely that he would.

Floating above the muck, he watched as one of the hands from beneath the water dared try to touch him. In an instant, he had given it a hard smack, sending it splashing back down into the muck.

Carefully, the ghost made his way over to one of the rickety docks, and finally lied himself across it. Maybe if he lied still enough, it would just go away. Ignoring it would make it stop, right?

[thinking-outside-the-giftbox18]

Striped Carnations and Anemones

Summary:  This was my personal idea of an alternate ending: What if Robin escaped but becomes the Snatcher anyways? Also a sympathetic approach to Queen Vanessa, but doesn't change the fact that she literally froze a kingdom.

I have posted this story on Archive of Our Own, incase anyone wants to check it out: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25423690

The cellar grows cold each passing day, or was it a week… or month...maybe longer? Prince Robin would’ve guessed immediately if it wasn’t for his hands going numb to tally off an hour as his arms hung from the chains. But nevertheless, he no longer can care about his body as it is going to expire anytime right now. He had guessed why his beloved would make such decisions, but it was no excuse for her to go insane...He can still hear the children scream as the ice captured them like a rapid plague. If only he had saved them, they are like his own children. Robin hung his head low, wanting to give up the ghost, yet something told him that he doesn't want to die like this...If he ever dies, it should not be in the cellar that was turned into a makeshift dungeon. He wants to be back outside to the forest, an odd choice to draw out your final breath but all he wanted was to see the stars…

"Ummph…!!" Was what he let out when the rusty chains broke, letting him fall to the ground. The cuffs are still on both his back arms, but he can move them a bit, which means…He looks up to see a torch that hasn't been lightened…'This place needs to be a bit warm.' Robin thought and like on command, the torch was set ablaze and the cellar took on a golden hue...but the Prince felt something else warm up in his body, it was what he had felt after crying for a very long time. He turned to leave the cellar, his body was weak but the fire in him helped as he walked up the stairs and out the cellar basement.

In the living room, the green wallpaper dulled when the darkness engulfed the manor, the only light there was near the portrait of her and her Prince, but it was dim. Vanessa played on the piano, remembering her lessons her mother had forced her to practice every single day when she was a little girl, then she smiled when she remembered how her Prince would surprise her with a duet as he played the violin. It made her horrible memories go away, she swayed with her fingers that played a love song that had a somber tone. Then the door behind her opened, she turned and expected that it was the wind who blew it open, no...It was her Prince. He looked directly at her, his Queen, just as she wanted it to be. Vanessa couldn't be happier as she waltzed her way and embraced her beloved Prince, "I miss you, My Prince~ Now we can be together forever~" she whispered softly to him like it was a secret, she rested her head on his chest, not minding his clothing that was slightly chilly and picking up dust. Her Prince looked down at her and gave a soft smile, "'Forever' you say, My Queen?~" he asked in a tone that would make her melt. Vanessa nodded her head, nuzzling her cheek against her Prince's disheveled cravat, she sighed when he placed a hand to stroke her darkened blonde hair on her head. She was drawn to his embrace even more.

"...I don't love you anymore." So calmly Robin said as he pulled himself away from Vanessa, who looked up at her Prince alarmed. He looked down at her with his amber-gold eyes, she saw no emotion, no glint of happiness or love...not even anger, that Robin hid well. "You're bluffing...you always tell odd jokes…!" Vanessa tries to reason while in denial, her Prince? He doesn't love her anymore? That's preposterous! She chuckled and giggled but she was the only one laughing, Robin kept staring at her blankly with a serious aura. Vanessa's ruby eyes gleamed in fear, "My...My Prince...Why…? Why don't you love me…?? What have I done that made you feel that way?" She then remembered why he was chained up, her eyes scowled, and prepared her claws to permanently keep her Prince for herself once and for all. "Was it that red-head who sold flowers?!! Did she change your mind?? Are you falling for her while you're engaged to me??! ...Explain yourself, Prince!!" She can only scream in the empty living room at Robin. He took her clawed hands calmly, keeping his sights on her, "Why would I love you when you destroyed our home…?" Vanessa's face went blank, she looked at Robin like a deer in front of the hunter. Now that he mentioned it, she might have done minor damage around the Subcon Manor after what had happened. Robin let go of her hands and folded his arms sternly, he had never done that gesture in front of Vanessa as he narrowed his eyes at her. She tries to come up with a reason "...Because I love you so much and was willing to fix what we had accidentally destro-!" Robin raised his hand to interrupt her, "I'm sorry, ' We '? I don't remember allowing you to turn our citizens to ice sculptures. And I definitely was absent when the kingdom was, how you put it, 'accidentally' destroyed…!" He controlled his volume to not scream at her, he wanted to express how distraught he truly was at her, yet he remained calm again.

Robin and Vanessa were both silent, Vanessa had now seen what she had done, "I was...I...You arrived days after Mother's-" she was interrupted again, "I knew. I knew that you needed me after her passing, that was why I had put a hold on my studies just to comfort you...I knew that you were scared of suddenly being the Queen without me being by your side. That is why I would still call you 'My Princess', so that once I am back to stay, I'll help you get ready...I was a fool who was deeply in love with you." He wanted to cry as his heart kept breaking, Vanessa wanted to comfort him but she couldn't, "My...My Prince...I am truly sorry for hurting you."

"You did more than just hurt me, my dear... You killed me. " Robin stated as he looked dead at Vanessa's ruby eyes. Her jaw dropped, how could her Prince say that?! "P-Prince…?!" She exclaimed, but was ignored by Robin. "I never thought that you would do this to not just me, you killed my love for you, you killed what was left of our dying affection...and you killed our home, the kingdom we were meant to protect...just for someone you didn't entirely know...How cruel are you exactly, Queen Vanessa?" Robin addressed Vanessa with such poison that it made her wince.

"Better yet, you are the Queen, have you always seen me as your prince rather than a king?? Do you even remember my name?" The last question was meant to be a cold joke, but when he saw Vanessa's widened eyes as she covered her mouth with her claws, she wasn't fooling around.

"You...You really have no idea who I am…" He numbly said as he bowed his head down, he realized that there was truly no hope to save what was left. He didn't hear Vanessa's efforts to comfort him as she tried to get closer to him, she kept calling him as "Her Prince" and at times "Her King" as if that can make him feel better. Robin looked up at her tear-stained face, she felt truly sorry for what she had done and repeatedly asked for his forgiveness. Suddenly, there was a soft low chuckling from the Prince as he kept his head down but his body shook with the sound. Vanessa jolted back when Robin's soft chuckle turned into a full-blown hearty cackle, she had found his "normal" laugh unnerving. He laughed extremely hard that tears streamed down his cheek, just the sight of her Prince in utter despair made Vanessa's heart ache.

Robin calmed his laughter and wiped off his tears, he looked at his now-former lover with an unsettling calm smile before turning to exit the room. Vanessa followed him to the manor's main door, wondering where he was going to. "My Prince…?" Robin ignored her again when she asked quietly, as he then opened the doors. Heavy gusts of icy winds blew directly at his face and he remained apathetic, it was when he took one step out the door did Vanessa had started to panic. She grabbed his arm tightly, "Don't leave!!! Please don't!!" She had begged him to reconsider, but she looked up and saw his piercing gold eyes one last time, glaring directly at her soul...silent with concealed rage, a growl before a bite.

She fearfully lets go of his arm and watches him shakingly walk through the snowy storms, away from what was once their home. He crossed his arms close to his chest to retain his remaining warmth and kept his small smile despite the warm tears continuing to fall to the snow. He didn't stop when the winds had gotten worse, or when he heard his Vanessa roar in self-loathing, followed by a big bang from the manor doors closing. He doesn't want to stop just yet, he knows when to stop when he gets there.

It was a miracle that her frost curse didn't reach the forest, it remained untouched with the sound of crickets and the calm rustling of the leaves. Robin felt serene and looked up at the sky, thankful to see the stars one last time. He knelt down and rested his body on a patch of dirt and grass, ready to join the restless nature and those whose lives were snuffed out. But yet, he had a small thought, 'If only I had lived longer...What can I do if I remain free...after all this time…?' He chuckled to himself breathlessly before...

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

A masked soul wandered around the forest as they tried to look for their friends, they were fine with the fact that the forest wasn't covered in spikes of ice or blocks of snow. But they didn't expect the inmost part of it to be in flames, they almost surrounded the soul, it wasn't scared yet they felt like they were watched, so they felt paranoid instead. They turned back to where they entered from, only for a wall of fire to appear, trapping the soul inside, now they are aware that someone or something knew of their trespassing. Then a pair of gold eyes appeared in front of the soul through the fire along with a wide eerie smile that made the soul freeze in their place. The next thing the soul knows is darkness, shades of amethyst and violet surround their vision, they shake in fear as they start to see snake-like phantoms from a distance, who watch the soul with blank glowing eyes. The masked soul was no longer in the forest but in a supernatural plane where the ground is not visible and the exit above is non-existent.

A dark rumbling voice spoke out, "Why, hello there~ Are you lost, young one?~" he said with a low purr from behind the soul, who turned and met the yellow glowing eyes of a dark apparition who towered over them. The eyes behind the soul's mask shrink and cower because of the apparition's wicked smile. "Now do not fret. I too was lost, but I don't want to be found...or else, I would get hungry~" He remarked with a dark chuckle, eyeing the small soul with a tinge of hunger, scaring them more. 'Poor thing...they can't remember how they got lost…~' He thought before getting an idea, "I'll tell you what. I am in need of souls to build a little place where you can feel safe from the cold. I had witnessed the Queen's powers and how it damaged my forest...Safe to say, I was more than furious." He stated while extending a boneless arm. The masked soul looked at him confused and watched his clawed hand get set ablaze with blue flames, only to disappear and be replaced with a rolled-up scroll. The taller ghost leaned to the soul and rolled out the scroll, letting the lost soul read it. "As written in this piece of paper: I would need your lost friends as well, and I would make each one of you all a body so that we'll start making a place you'll call 'home'... Do we have a deal?~" The ghost asked the soul as his eyes and grin glow together.

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

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

Notes: I am working on an AHIT AU fanfic series, but I want to show you how I am as a writer because I enjoy making stories as much as I like to doodle a lot. I headcanon the Prince's name as "Robin", just in case you're wondering why he's not named "Lukas". So this is basically a surprise quick story before setting the stage. If you want to find me, I'm on Ao3 , Twitter, DA and YouTube.So please, leave your thoughts on this fanfic and not half-a!@ed insults/compliments. -Giftbox

P.S. I also headcanon that Prince Robin would later learn Flower language as an indirect way of expressing his true feelings when he became The Snatcher. Hence, the title.

[beyondflashpoint]

Prologue 3: World’s Finest:

It was a quiet night, for Gotham. Quiet for Gotham still meant a surplus of muggers, purse snatchers, and various other petty criminals, who more often than not fled at the sight of any one of the city’s resident costumed vigilantes. That was fine by Damian. In the four years since he had assumed the mantle of Robin, donning the colorful tights to aid in his father’s nightly crusade, he’d experienced a fair number of not so quiet nights in Gotham.

In the early days he’d longed for the next complex caper, the next shadowy plot, the next Arkham breakout. But as time wore on he came more and more to appreciate the quiet nights. The mission wore on endlessly, and for Damian, and all those who fought by he and his father’s side, the quiet nights were the closest thing to rest.

Father was on one of his interstellar escapades with the Justice League. Damian had seen their work, and thought it mostly ineffectual grandstanding, so he understood the necessity of Batman’s presence among them. They needed someone who could get the job done. What he couldn’t understand was the necessity for him to have a chaperone.

Grayson had accompanied him on patrols every night since father’s departure, as if without constant supervision Damian might decide to go on a killing spree, or blow up a bank. Not that he minded Grayson’s company. He was an effective combatant, and contrary to Damian’s first impression he was actually competent with strategy and detective work. Unfortunately he also talked. A lot. Beyond the pithy one liners and snarky banter he fired off in combat, which could have been excused as psychological warfare, Grayson wanted to talk about everything. Was he reading anything good lately, had he made any new friends, what music was he listening to, did he have a life outside of the mission, when was the last time he’d washed the uniform? It was incessant. Countless tedious questions fired off in rapid succession, as if Grayson had a pathological fear of silence.

At least he’d finally stopped trying to set Damian up on play dates with the other teenaged vigilantes. That had been beyond frustrating. For a time Grayson had pitched a different cooperative mission, which he’d pestilently referred to as “team-ups”, every week. The last and least unbearable had been with the Kent boy, though he had ended up roped into irregular interactions with the child, outside of uniform, and preforming menial tasks unrelated to the crusade.

Blessedly, Jonathan was currently grounded, due to poor performance in mathematics. Perhaps he should have mercy and tutor the boy. He would consider broaching the offer after he slept.

“Mushroom swiss, extra onions, and large mocha, triple espresso. You know you really should cut back of the caffeine, Lil’ D. It’ll stunt your growth.”

Damian snatched the bag and beverage. “And you should cut back on the pizza. It’s starting to look like Pennyworth needs to let out your uniform again.”

“Very funny, brat.” Grayson ruffled his hair, before plopping down on the ledge beside him and settling into what looked like an overstuffed breakfast burrito, though he did pull at the fabric clinging to his abs when he thought Damian wasn’t looking.

“Anything happen while I was gone?” Grayson asked as he chased an exceptionally large bite with his own coffee.

“B-and-E on 18th, but GCPD was close enough to respond, so I let them handle it.”

“Why Damian, I didn’t know you were capable of sharing. How generous of you.” Grayson punctuated his feigned surprise with a dainty hand against his face. Damian narrowed his eyes, and returned his attention to his own meal.

“Tt”

“Jason and his ‘Outlaws’ got back to Blüdhaven this morning. I think they were doing something about the Lexcorp drilling operation in Smallville. The facilities definitely exploded, and explosions usually involve Jason. Surprisingly there were no casualties.”

“Jason has never broken father’s code, despite every opportunity to do so. His methods might be a bit extreme, but they are effective, and non-lethal.”

Grayson paused. “But I’m still your favorite brother, right?”

Damian smirked. “I’m no longer wishing you dead.”

Grayson laughed, then the two ate in silence. While Damian was washing down the last vestiges of his meal, Grayson stood and stretched. “So, I’m thinking we move towards the bay area. Seems like theirs always something to do there.”

“If you’re eager to stay busy, we could consult Oracle.”

Grayson shuffled awkwardly, then cleared his throat. “That won’t be necessary. Between the police scanner and Al manning the bat-computer, we’ll know where we’re needed, when we’re needed.”

Damian got to his feet and stretched himself. It seemed there was some awkwardness between Grayson and the Gordon girl, probably stemming from a failed romance. Grayson didn’t talk about it, and neither did Oracle. He could probably ask Jason, but he didn’t care that much. So long as it didn’t effect the mission.

It was a short trip by rooftop to the bay area docks, and the two were in no real rush. This was a simple patrol, mostly for the sake of reminding Gotham that it’s guardians were constantly vigilant. Across the bay, the shining beacon of metropolis lit the sky as if to starkly contrast the shadowy gloom of Gotham. Damian had often wondered if property was cheaper on the Gotham-facing side of Metropolis. He knew from father that the reverse was true of Metropolis facing property in Gotham. On the other side of the Bay Bridge, the Hights loomed like towering castles, housing those of Gotham’s elite who preferred high rises to mansions. One of those buildings held a penthouse suite belonging to Father and housing a substitute Batcave far better outfitted than the many bunkers father had across the city. Damian had toured each of these facilities in his first week as Robin, and given them each a monthly inspection since. In recent months he’d taken to sleeping in the penthouse when he and father had one of their frequent disagreements. Before that he’d mostly gone to Jason’s Blüdhaven bunker, but a particularly awkward incident had put a stop to that.

Grayson was right about the frequency of criminal activity in the area, and the two had barely began their loop around the docks when they came upon a group of thugs brazenly unloading pallets of cocaine. The two separated wordlessly, each seeking a vantage point from which to survey the scene before acting.

Grayson went high, perching on top of a crane, Damian went low silently positioning himself on a shipping container right above the scum.

“I count six men, two in the truck, two in the container, and two patrolling. The guards have automatic weapons, but I’d be willing to bet all six are packing. How do you want to proceed?” Grayson spoke in a determined whisper, and Damian replied in the same hushed tones.

“I see five. One of the guards is heading your way. Advise pattern Gamma-12. Move at your command.” Damian never enjoyed handing over control, but Grayson had the best view of the battlefield, and would make the right call.

“Acknowledged. Guard two is on your 8:15. You may proceed with pattern G-12.”

Damian dropped onto the unsuspecting guard, who was exactly where Grayson had said he’d be. Before the man could make a sound, Damian clapped a hand over his mouth and struck key pressure points in rapid succession, rendering the man unconscious. With silent precision he moved towards the container and his next targets.

The truck was shaking as he stepped from the corridor into the loading area, and he knew Grayson was doing his part. When his targets moved into the container to start on another pallet he stepped in behind them and slowly shut the door. The thump of metal and frightened, agonized screams were the only indication of what was happening inside, and they faded into silence quickly enough.

When Damian emerged, Grayson was standing with his hands on his hips, no doubt preparing some quip or other. Before he could say anything though, a brilliant radiance lit the sky like daybreak come several hours to soon. And with a deafening crash, the meteor smashed into the bay, sending a wave far enough inland that puddles formed around their feet. The two locked eyes, wordlessly agreeing that it was within their responsibilities to respond, and made their way toward the crash site.

The scene was tranquil, if one could ignore the floating debris and wreckage of personal water craft that had congregated to the bay’s center, ringing the impact zone like the epicenter of a child’s temper tantrum. Damian and Grayson stood in silent awe, until Damian pulled the Geiger-counter out of his belt and set the device ticking.

“Al, how fast could you get us a boat to Gotham Bay, pier 19?”

“I’m picking up radiation, if minor. Our space rock is so lukewarm it’s practically cold.” Damian returned the device to his belt.

“I’ve dispatched the bat-boat you your location, Nightwing. Happy sailing sir.”

The two glanced at each other as the din of distant sirens and alarms died down. The cities on both sides of the bay were wide awake now, and they wouldn’t have long to investigate before the authorities moved in. The boat took just long enough for Grayson to become antsy, tapping his foot and drumming his fingers over his crossed arms. When the visor slid back to open the vessels empty cockpit, Grayson boarded without a moment’s hesitation.

Damian moved to join him.

“Hope Al packed some trunks. We might be getting wet Lil’D.” Grayson opined as Damian fastened himself in.

In leu of a response, Damian rolled his eyes, and the duo started across the bay to the epicenter of the crash. They had just reached their goal when the boat heaved and rolled over, flipped like a child’s plaything. Moments later a heavy thump resounded from the skyward facing underside of the vessel. Damian and Grayson situated their respirators, exchanging an understanding glance and Grayson opened the visor and the boat’s interior flooded with the oily bay water. At the last minute, Damian released the clasp on his cape, cutting the resistance he’d face cutting through the water.

The duo surfaced to a strange sight. Standing on wobbly legs on the slowly submerging underside of the bat-boat, was a young woman, soaked from head to toe, and wearing what looked like a silver and white wet-suit. Grayson, who had surfaced and disengaged his respirator first, cautiously joined her on the slowly sinking makeshift island.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” She jerked her head towards him, panicked, fearful. Damian was all to familiar with such mannerisms. He propped his arms on the boat.In response, the young woman muttered something Damian couldn’t quite make out.

“Miss, it’s okay. We’re here to help.” Grayson took a cautious step towards the young woman, who responded with a frightened shout and a shove at Grayson, who hadn’t even finished shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

Soaked to the bone, and standing on precarious, slippery footing, a slip or stumble would have been expected, even from one with the lithe grace of Grayson. Instead, he jettisoned a pained grunt and flew from the vessel, skipping twice across the water’s surface like a stone. Damian watched in shocked awe, and turning his eyes on the aggressor, saw the same look in her own eyes. They were blue. She met his gaze and shouted something else in that gibberish that was starting to sound vaguely familiar to Damian. Then she jumped as if to dive into the Gotham facing side of the bay. But instead launched at least fifty feet into the air, sailing in a clear arch to the docks he and Grayson had left moments ago.

“Grayson-“

“Still breathing Lil’D. Get after her. I’ll catch up.” Grayson sounded winded, and was barely suppressing what Damian was guessing to be intense pain, but he kicked off the boat and swam towards the docks nonetheless. Even at the brisk pace he set, it still took way too long to reach the shore. Luckily the young woman left a trail. Wet footprints and cracked pavement made the pursuit easy as following a hare though fresh snow. She was moving eastward, and inland.

Damian’s pursuit showed all the telltale signs of a frightened, if powerful, meta-human, just coming into her abilities. She needed to be stopped before she hurt anyone, before she hurt herself. Anyone else, Damian mentally corrected. He’d passed a few would be thugs or helping hands with significant (though fortunately non-lethal) injuries in an alley a few blocks back. Beams of crimson light shot skyward from the next street over. Damian hip-fired his line launcher and took the rooftop in time to catch a glimpse of the chaos on the street below, and the young woman illuminated by police flashlights as she floated gracelessly skyward. With very little time for mental calculations, Damian took a running start and dove across the gap between buildings.

He collided with the girl in mid air, directly above the middle of the crowded street, with thirty stories of open air between him and unforgiving concrete. His gamble paid off. Whatever method granted the girl flight had slowed their decent, and coupled with Damian’s momentum they came down in a slow arch, landing on the rooftop on the other side of the street. For his part Damian had to roll to disperse the excess momentum. The girl immediately rose from her knees to her feet with stony determination. She shouted at him in what he realized was an alien language.

“Tired of running, I take it. Come then.” Damian pulled the sword from his belt. It was blunted, had been for almost three years now, a concession made to ease father’s mind. But even without an edge it could break bones, bruise bodies, and dissuade antagonists. Before he had taken a ready stance, the girl launched forward at speeds that would even give Allen pause. The blade bounced and rattled on the rooftop, useless. Clearing thirty feet in less than a second, the girl had pinned Damian to the wall by his wrists. The impact had knocked the breath from him, and might have broken both of his wrists, had they not been cushioned by the meta’s fingers. As it was, her vice like grip was already bruising bone deep. A horrific crimson light radiated menacingly from her previously arctic blue eyes. Damian narrowed his own eyes, scowling. Mentally he was running through every possible counter, every potential method of escape. Then, she spoke again, and the nagging familiarity clicked.

“Where the hell am I? What the hell is going on?”

Damian mentally thanked Jon for the Kryptonian lessons, and formulated his plan. It would have to be fast.

“Welcome to earth.” He spat, smirking. The glow faded from her eyes, replaced by shock. Her grip on his wrists loosened, and Damian moved to the second step of his plan. He pushed forward as hard and fast as he could, planting his lips on hers. The Selina Kyle method. As expected, confusion, shock, and perhaps a touch of embarrassment caused the Kryptonian to fully release her grip and stagger backwards, giving Damian enough time to pull the aerosolized kryptonite/ knockout gas concoction from the led-lined pouch on his belt and spritz the girl with a healthy dose.

Once she had collapsed into a heap and Damian was sure that she was fully unconscious, he called Grayson.

It was just before sunrise when father returned, and on Damian’s insistence, brought the elder Kryptonian with him. Unlikely as it was, Kara Zor-El was his cousin, sent to earth from Kandor, the capital city of Krypton moments before the planet’s destruction. She was uncertain what had set her off course by nearly four decades, but she had finally arrived.

Within six months, she was fluent in English. In ten she was versed enough in her powers to earn Superman’s approval to shadow him in metropolis. After some convincing Bruce set her up in an unused apartment he kept in National City with an established civilian identity and all the paperwork that required. Before the end of her first year, Kara had blended almost seamlessly into earthling society, though under constant supervision from the Justice League. By that time even Batman’s considerable scrutiny waned. But Damian remained cautious.

Eventually, Supergirl’s fame and reverence grew to match that of her well established cousin, and the world mostly came to accept the new heroically inclined visitor from a strange world.

But the clock was ticking, and had been long before the alien child set foot of the strange new world. Events were already in motion that would call to question the meaning of the word hero, and the line that separates good and evil.

Tick

Tock

Tick

[oiralinsanity]

The Blood Drop of Subcon

Part 6

The Snatcher sat in his lounger reading one of his law books, pausing every now and then to take a sense of the time. The kid with the hat had already left some time ago to her ship, leaving Subcon Forest and its ruler some peace and quiet.

Well, somewhat. Tonight was permanently different than usual. This time, he had more to deal with than the occasional trespasser. He glanced at the newest member of the forest.

Moonjumper rocked in his hand-crafted hanging chair, still reading that book he had picked out earlier, paying no attention to the world at the moment due to the fact that this was the first time he had been a part of society in centuries. The sudden change in location placed some stress on the moon-faced spirit, and he needed some time to collect himself.

The Snatcher paused once again to take a sense of time, and then proceeded to leave his spot.

"Is there something wrong, my shadow friend?" Moonjumper spoke up, taking notice to the sudden movements around him. "You've been acting strangely for a while now."

"Ah, yes." The Snatcher answered. "It's midnight right now. That's usually when I go out and patrol my forest for trespassers and potential threats."

"And how do you usually deal with trespassers when you find them?" Moonjumper asked, summoning a red string from his finger to act as his bookmark.

"Ooh, the usual." The Snatcher said in a sing-song tone. "I set up a trap and lead them into it. When they set it off, a wall of darkness and vines will surround them and I pop out of the ground, laughing before screaming 'Fool' to scare them. I belittle them for falling into my trap before..."

The Snatcher summoned a piece of paper and a feather pen in front of Moonjumper, causing him to slightly jump in shock. "I tell them that they just got the chance of a lifetime, and that they can leave this forest alive by signing a contract and doing some jobs for me, while I hold their soul as collateral in the off chance they attempt to bail from their contractual obligations." The Snatcher chuckled. "It could be really simple, such as delivering mail to my minions, or-"

"Mail?" Moonjumper interrupted his shadow, confused by his mail comment. "Your minions still get mail?"

"Well, no." The Snatcher explained. "I actually sneak into some mailboxes and steal some of the mail, old habits die hard. It helps make my minions feel special."

"Now, back to what I was saying before you rudely interrupted me." The Snatcher coldly expressed. "It could be as simple as delivering mail to my minions, or as hard as cleaning out the well. Only thing harder than that would be sneaking into Vanessa's Manor to steal something, which only one person has managed to complete that task."

"And that was?" Moonjumper asked. To hear that only one person had managed to survive Vanessa in her own Manor and steal something from her at the same time obviously meant they had to have been very powerful to have completed such a task.

"It was that nuisance of an alien kid, Moonjumper." Snatcher groaned. "The same one who managed to defeat me twice."

Or they were small and crafty enough in sneaking past her like a little thief.

"Then, once the obligations has been fulfilled and the servant is no longer of any use to me..." The Snatcher made a loud popping sound. "Off goes their heads! I can get stuff done around the forest with no effort on my part and a free meal as well!!"

"But you made a contract with them," Moonjumper recalled. "And anytime a spirit, like you or I for example, draws up a contract with someone, the spirit is bound to following said terms and conditions of the deal once it's signed, no matter what."

"Look at the signature line and flip it over..." The Snatcher commanded his old body. He watched as Moonjumper did as he was told, and listened as the moon-faced spirit read aloud the printing on the back.

"I hereby totally agree to do this Snatcher dude's dirty work." Moonjumper spoke. "And also absolve him of all injuries I will most likely sustain from this work. Also, I'll give up my soul. No take-"

The Snatcher watched as Moonjumper began to spiral into a fit of giggles from reading what the last line had stated.

"No takey backsies." Moonjumper barely managed to let out inbetween his giggling fit. "Snatcher, are you serious with this? You managed to craft a contract that can allow a spirit to potentially bypass the legal bindings of a contract, and you decide to write something extremely childish!?"

"Well when you get your own legal contracts, you decide what you want to put on the back of it!!" The Snatcher bickered as he summoned the contract and the feather pen back into his pocket dimension. "Besides, there may have been one or two people whose souls weren't eaten in the end."

"Really?" Moonjumper asked as the two began to leave the Hollowed Tree. "Such as...?"

"Well, one person that instantly comes to mind was this witch who I had signed a contract with about five centuries ago." The Snatcher brought up. "She knew a powerful Dark Spirit when she saw one, and convinced me to become her Patron. She's the one who brews the explosive liquids I use in battle sometimes."

"The same ones used against you?" Moonjumper spoke, bringing up their previous conversation on the space ship.

"Regrettably." The Snatcher shrugged. "She told me it wasn't a good idea to use blue liquids as one of my attacks when it's one of my major weaknesses. So she had every right to laugh at me when I came to her drenched in it."

The duo fell quiet as they patrolled around Subcon Forest, keeping an eye out for any potential trespassers.

~~~

The Snatcher held his hand up, stopping his companion in his tracks.

"Why are we stopping?" Moonjumper whispered to the shadow as he pointed ahead, in which Moonjumper peered towards.

Ahead of the spirits were two balding men in blue suits, both top heavy and scared of their current surroundings.

"Mafia Goons." The Snatcher growled softly, revealing who the strange men were. "They're strong, but extremely dumb and cowardly. And they always seem to find their way here for some odd reason, despite living on an island."

"My usual meal as well." He added. "Prepare to watch and learn the hunt."

The Snatcher waved his fingers at the ground ahead of the goons, summoning a circle of shadow thorns to lie in wait, hoping to be triggered. He then pulled Moonjumper's shoulder down low to the ground so that his bright outfit would not be spotted against the dreary backdrop.

They watched as the two goons stumbled about in the forest, having no clear sense of their surroundings or what dangers lied ahead, able to hear them more clearly as they got closer to the spirits' position.

"Mafia no like dark, spooky forest." One of them spoke to the other. "Mafia have no idea how Mafia even got here."

"Mafia must find shelter." His comrade spoke, failing to notice the trap now just feet away from them. "Mafia have seen red spot on moon. Mafia knows this bad time to be out in open."

One of the Mafia Goons stepped completely into the shadow trap and sprung it, scaring his comrade. A shadowy wall, palpable to the touch, grew around the trapped goon as his frightened comrade ran off screaming.

The Mafia Goon trapped in a world of shadows, looking around for an ever-dwindling hope of an exit out of his predicament, barely noticed that one of the shadows was increasing in size.

"AHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!!!!" The loud laughter that echoed throughout the air had already frightened the Goon into submission. "FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL!!!! YOU COMPLETE AND UTTER IDIOT, YOU BLEW IT FOR YOURSELF!!"

Meanwhile, the Mafia Goon, who managed to turn tail and run off, was jumping and ducking through the underbrush of the dark forest. After watching his comrade get trapped by the dark spirit of the forest, the Goon now just wanted to go to his home on Mafia Island, jump straight under his bed covers, and call in sick for the next week.

Suddenly, his ankle got caught on something and he tripped, flying face first into the murky dirt and ruined his blue suit.

The Mafia Goon picked himself off the ground. "What caused Mafia to trip?" He spoke with anger and confusion in his voice. "Things that trip Mafia must pay for its crimes!" He bellowed as he scanned the ground, only to be frightened by the sight of what had tripped him.

A red string, glowing with mysterious dark powers, similar to the horrible tales told to him as a young boy growing up. He had to get out of here quickly, as he did not want to be lifted towards the moon.

Suddenly, red strings shot out from above and wrapped itself around the Mafia's legs, turning his fears into reality. The strings then tighten and lifted him up into the air, smacking his head on the ground in the process.

Dazed from the bump, it took the Goon a moment to regain his senses, although he immediately regretted getting them back the moment he saw what was in front of him.

"Well, well, well," The floating body in red spoke to the Goon, swaying its lower half in the movement towards him. "What do we have here? A trespasser in the woods?"

"Leave Mafia alone!" The Goon shouted at the being, swinging his fists at it in an attempt to maintain a safe distance. "Mafia will show you not to mess with-"

"Oh hoho!" The spirit laughed, interrupting the Goon. "You really think I would be deterred by your empty threats? I've seen many like you before, and let me tell you..."

Red strings began to grow from the spirit's fingertips, confirming the Goon's worst fears for the last time.

"They've all broken down to fear sooner or later." The spirit spoke sadistically before thrusting his red strings towards the now screaming Goon.

***

The Snatcher was finished making a contract with the Goon he had managed to trap, and now had his soul for later consumption. Now all he had to deal with was the second Goon, who had managed to escape with his life.

"Moonjumper!" The Snatcher shouted to his bodied companion. "Where did that other fool go?"

All The Snatcher met to his question was silence, much to his confusion. That's odd. The Snatcher thought. I could have sworn I told him to stay put.

A distant scream rang out in the forest, catching The Snatcher's attention. That sounded like one of the Mafia's! He thought as he flew towards its source.

He kinda wished he hadn't though, not after what he saw when he arrived on the scene.

"MOONJUMPER, WHAT THE FUCK!?" The Snatcher screamed at his bodied counterpart, who had his strings wrapped around and piercing what looked to be a semi-husk of the second Mafia Goon.

Moonjumper looked at The Snatcher with discontent. "I'm feeding." He spoke in a monotone voice. "How else would I have survived for all this time?"

"It also appears that I already made a bit of a name for myself." Moonjumper added in. "They spoke in fear of my distress signal. Must be from all the years I had to fish someone from this planet up for a meal."

"He was mine!" The Snatcher spoke, getting up close to Moonjumper's face. "Any trespassers in my forest, my victims! That is the rule of this territory!"

"And yet you were preoccupied with another." Moonjumper brought up, now reeling in his strings. "Besides, I just finished with my meal."

The Snatcher looked to where the Mafia Goon's husk would have been to find absolutely nothing. No body, no clothing. No trace of there ever being a second Goon. "I make sure to consume every last part of my meal to ensure a full stomach." Moonjumper explained. "Which means you don't have a body to dispose of or a mess to pick up. Like they were never there at all."

The Snatcher looked at Moonjumper in disgust. The Goon was still suppose to be his victim, according to his rules. Moonjumper would have to be punished according to the-

The Snatcher smacked himself upside the head. He forgot to make Moonjumper sign any sort of contract when he had the chance, which meant he couldn't punished the moom-faced spirit for stealing his meal.

"God dammit." The Snatcher mumbled under his breath before turning towards Moonjumper. "When's your next feeding, a year?"

"I'm not sure," Moonjumper answered. "Considering that time is strange in that white hell, I don't know how long my hunger will be satiated for."

"If you are not down with your duties, I will see you back at the tree." Moonjumper spoke as he left The Snatcher by himself, allowing the shadow to ponder over how to make living with a second dark spirit possible.

Beginning/Previous/Here/Soon

[coffeestainsandcashmere]

‘All that’s best of dark and bright’ - a Draco x Hermione x Theo story - Chapter Four

For the 0.5 people following this story on here instead of Ao3...

Chapter One here: Tumblr | Ao3

Chapter Two here: Tumblr | Ao3

Chapter Three here: Tumblr | Ao3

Hermione sat at the Gryffindor table that evening, still mulling over Malfoy’s behaviour in Charms.  

It had been her mention of the snatchers that had prompted his expression to darken and his body to fill with tension, and she still couldn’t shake the way that he’d turned quiet and openly vulnerable under Theo’s gentle touch. Over the years she’d known him at Hogwarts, Malfoy had always seemed to viscerally sharp and prickly, so volatile and yet so cold, that realising he was apparently an extremely tactile person somehow felt like she’d taken a bludger to the head. Yet again she saw a boy who’d been isolated by circumstance, and not by choice, and she resolved to put a little more effort into bridging the gaping canyon that still existed between them.  

At supper that evening, Ginny rather predictably talked the ears off everyone at their end of the table about the Holyhead Harpies and their latest nail-biter of a match against the Wimbourne Wasps. Apparently she and the rest of the Gryffindor team had been glued to the wireless all afternoon during their various free periods.  

“…and then when Helena Abbington swept in at the last minute and stopped a bludger from hitting Wilkins, she and Elcomb only pulled off a bloody Porskoff Ploy so well that the Wasps didn’t even see the quaffle drop until it was too late!” Ginny enthused around a final mouthful of goulash. “Seriously, we were all —” she caught sight of Hermione’s politely bored face midway through taking a swig of pumpkin juice to wash down the clog of goulash, and snorted so hard that juice actually came out of her nose. “I’m sorry, ‘Mione,” she laughed, and Hermione’s chest panged at the unexpected use of Ron’s nickname for her. “I’m so sorry. Oh crap, did I get you with juice?” She dug out her wand. “Oh Godric, I’m sorry - scourgify - but you should have seen your face!”  

“The complexities of quidditch manoeuvres have never failed to entertain me, Ginny,” she said flatly. “I’m sorry.” Dinners in the Weasley household had been interminable on nights when someone got going on the subject.  

“No, it’s totally fine. Just remind me to cancel your subscription to Seeker Weekly that I set up for your birthday.” At the words ‘your birthday’, her eyes went wide and she shrieked, “Oh my Gryffindor! Your birthday! It’s… It’s…”

“This Saturday,” she smiled sadly. Neither Ron nor Harry had mentioned coming down to see her, or meeting up in Hogsmeade, and she rather suspected that they might have forgotten. That stung more than she cared to admit.

From behind her, a male voice drawled, “It’s your birthday, Granger?” 

Ginny’s expression soured immediately and her gaze shifted to a spot behind Hermione as she snarled, “Piss off, Nott. And whatever you’re thinking of doing to spoil it… don’t.”

“Ginny!” Hermione exclaimed. “You’re Head Girl! You should be a little more impartial, don’t you think?”

“Not when it comes to my best friends,” she pouted. Her mistrust of anyone even tangentially associated with Voldemort’s supporters was widely known, and Theodore took a polite half-step back, palms up, dark blue eyes widely innocent. Ginny continued to glare at him, but she did at least let him speak.  

“I’m not putting in a last-minute, bulk order to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes,” he smiled carefully. “I promise. I was just surprised you hadn't mentioned it on our patrols, that’s all. Listen, while we’re on the subject, Granger, I came over to tell you I’m going to be a bit late tonight. Can I meet you at nine up on the third floor?”

Despite his usually abysmal time-keeping, Nott had surprisingly never been late to a patrol before, so she simply nodded. It wasn’t as if anything the students could throw at her would be more dangerous or daunting than everything she’d faced in the past three years. “Sure. Meet you by the painting of the drunk monks?”

Nott’s handsome, slightly wonky smile split wide and white across his face, drawing dimples in his cheeks that made her stomach flutter, and he inclined his head. “Perfect. Thanks, Granger.”

“You can call me Hermione, you know?” she said in a bit of a rush as he turned to leave, fighting another blush.

He paused and then turned to look over his shoulder at her. “Then I insist that you stop calling me ‘Nott’,” he said with a very slight bow of his head. One of the tighter curls at the front of his chestnut brown hair flopped further forewords onto his forehead. “Call me Theo. Never Theodore.” And he shuddered visibly, his freckles standing out a little more as his cheeks paled for just a moment.  

“Right,” she said and then, because she fancied trying it out, she added, “Theo.”  

With one further and final brightening of that already blinding smile, presumably at the sound of his name on her lips, he strode away without explanation as to why he was going to be late, and Hermione turned back to see Ginny with her jaw practically dangling on the table. Even Neville looked a little stunned, as if he still didn’t believe his eyes, even after their conversation earlier that very day.

“What?” she asked, the blush finally spilling across her cheeks, hot and tingling.

“Since when are you so… ‘chummy’ with the Slytherins?” she asked acerbically.  

She blinked. “I didn’t realise it was a crime to be on good terms with one’s peers,” she sniffed defensively as everyone’s eyes seemed to bore into her. God, it reminded her of the courtroom and Malfoy’s trial. “Besides, he’s actually halfway decent, believe it or not.”

Ginny looked like she’d swallowed a bubotuber whole. “Right,” she said. “Look… Hermione, I really don’t mean to be an arse about this, but… you do remember that he’s friends with Draco Malfoy, don’t you? You know, the boy who tried to kill Dumbledore and who let a bloody horde of Death Eaters into the castle who… you know, who ultimately helped to murder my brother…” Tears sparkled in her eyes as she glared at her.

Her heart went out to the younger girl, but she wasn’t about to back down either. “I’m aware of Malfoy’s history, Ginny, and of who we all lost,” she said, trying to keep her voice from rising and quavering. “I’m not… I’m not saying they’re perfect by any means, but… I’d like to give them a chance. Both of them. Theo was cleared of any involvement, and Malfoy was tried and released on probation, remember?”

Ginny’s eyes filled with tears and her lips trembled. “Tell that to Fred!” she hissed, standing from the table and storming away.  

Hermione took a deep breath and glanced around at the audience their little tussle had gathered amongst the Gryffindors. “What?” she snapped, pushing herself to her feet and disentangling her legs from the bench. “You heard McGonagall at the start of term. And we can’t keep treating everyone like criminals.” Her heart was racing, blood pounding in her ears. Why didn’t they understand? Why did they all think it was still ‘us’ and ‘them’? “We just can’t live like that!” she said shrilly, and she stalked from the hall in Ginny’s wake, tears blurring her vision.  

She’d always hated the fact that she wore her heart on her sleeve like this, emotions always boiling right up to the surface at a moment’s notice when she wished she could remain calm and collected instead of going off like a powder keg. It was something she’d always admired about the people who tended to be sorted into Slytherin and Ravenclaw. Then again, she’d almost been sorted into Ravenclaw, so perhaps it had nothing to do with houses at all and everything to do with her own inability to control her emotions. She’d have made a terrible occlumens.

As the arched entrance to the great hall approached, still in a bit of a blur, she crashed headlong into someone who also happened to be leaving the hall at the same time. A flash of white hair registered in her peripheral vision as Malfoy of all people steadied her with one pale and surprisingly strong hand. He then released her and stepped back.  

“Granger?” he asked in a low, softly-articulated purr, taking in the sheen to her eyes and the colour in her cheeks. He shot a glance back over his shoulder at the table where several astounded Gryffindors were still staring after her, and then turned his fierce, silver gaze back to her.  

“I’m sorry, Malfoy,” she hissed, desperate not to prolong the fuss. “I’m fine. Thank you.” And with that, she fled to Gryffindor tower to curl up with a book by the common room fire until it was time for her patrol. She didn’t see Ginny again, and later that evening when she nipped up to their dorm to grab her thicker cloak to ward off the castle’s wandering drafts, the drapes of Ginny’s four-poster were pointedly shut.  

The first half of her solo rounds passed without much incident and she found the solitude strangely grounding as she paced the empty halls. Ginny’s grief at the loss of her older brother was still so raw and close to the surface, and Hermione could certainly see how a friendship - however tentative - with a Slytherin like Theodore Nott would have been anathema to her. Ginny may have been fair and a good choice for a head of school, but when it came to blood ties, the Weasleys were a fiercely loyal family. Hermione had not been present when Molly Weasley had killed Bellatrix, but to hear any of them tell it, Molly had turned into something akin to an avenging banshee to defend her daughter from the deranged Death Eater.  

Near the library she found two first years sneaking about on a dare and deducted a cautionary five points from Hufflepuff to warn them off trying anything again, and moved on towards the third floor. She met Nearly Headless Nick and paused to chat with him at length on one of the few static staircases before spotting Mrs. Norris’ tail disappearing around a corner. The satisfaction she felt at not having to be afraid of that sight boosted her mood somewhat. She moved on through the castle like a stray draft, belonging and yet still disconnected; she knew the place inside out, and yet it still felt strange to her to be back here again after everything, with barely a blast or scorch mark on the stones to speak of what had happened scarcely four months earlier.

Just as she reached the third floor and rounded a corner, she paused. A feminine giggle echoed down the hall, followed by a quickly hushed groan.

Perfect.  

Of all the things she found herself dealing with as a prefect - sleepwalking, sneaking about, dares into the Restricted Section - illicit encounters by moonlight were probably her least favourite. Everyone needed some kind of connection, some kind of… release… but rules were rules after all, and although Hogwarts was probably the safest place in the world once more, it still didn’t do to be wandering the halls at night.  

Inhaling deeply, she stepped out with the intention of interrupting them and sending them packing with twenty points from each house, when a warm, dry palm slid over her mouth from behind her. Before she could squeal or hex her assailant into the middle of last week, Theodore Nott shifted silently into her field of vision, with the finger of his other hand pressed against his smirking lips.  

“Theo,” she hissed like a disgruntled Crookshanks when he released her, and he grinned wider, dimples and all. “Merlin and Morgana! You scared me!”

With a very quiet, earthy chuckle that sent heat rushing right the way through her, he twitched his eyebrows down the corridor. “Who is it then?”

“As if I should know from one breathy little giggle!” she scoffed, still somehow keeping her voice down despite her indigence.  

He actually had extremely nice hands, she thought, trying not to look at them, and that then realisation made her cheeks flush and her heart flutter. While Malfoy had the hands of a potion master, steady and long-fingered, Theo had the hands of a scholar, all ink stained and slightly knuckly. She scolded herself for fixating on her classmates’ hands - now of all times - and rounded on him defensively.  

“Come on,” she said. “Now that you’re here, you might as well make yourself useful. And what were you doing — if I might ask — that was so much more important than your duties as a prefect?”

“Tutoring third years,” he said casually as he turned to face the length of the corridor. “Arithmancy. They’re terrible. An absolute disgrace to Slytherin. Now, come on, let’s have some fun. I reckon they’re behind that tapestry halfway down. You know, the one with that coat of arms and the randy unicorn.”

Theodore Nott tutored students?  

She froze, staring at him with a look of incredulous amusement on her face, trying to imagine him teaching. Actually, that didn’t help her situation at all and she quickly abandoned the image before it took hold. “It’s ‘rampant’, not ‘randy’,” she finally croaked, which only made him snicker softly. Of course he knew that. Flustered at having allowed herself to be goaded by him, she added, “So you’re familiar with that hiding place then, Nott? You’ve been caught there before, have you?”

“A gentleman never tells,” he said and strode off before she could stop gawping like a landed fish.  

He flicked his wand at the huge tapestry and it peeled slowly back like a theatre curtain to expose the two mortified fifth years entangled within the alcove. Mercifully they were mostly dressed, just a little rumpled, and she and Nott sent the pair on their way with only ten points from Ravenclaw and ten from Gryffindor. Hermione would never be able to look the girl in the face again.  

As the fifth years scuttled off like startled beetles, Theo turned to her and let the tapestry fall back into place. The ridiculousness of it caught up with them at the same time, and they both burst out laughing, the sound of it ringing on the cold stone of the corridor. It was a relief to laugh, she realised as her eyes watered and she felt giddy and light for the first time in weeks. She put her hand on the rough stonework of the wall beside the tapestry and let her body shake with it.  

“You’re telling me you’ve never been caught like that, Granger?” Theo said once his own laughter had died down. He still had those delicious dimples though, and his eyes glittered.  

Her face flushed hot and she remembered a few stolen kisses here and there, and once significantly more, with Viktor Krum.

Theo’s eyebrows expressed a very keen interest, and she began examining the needlework of the tapestry with sudden focus.  

“Well, well,” he said. “I’m not going to pry, but that’s a very interesting train of thought you’ve given me, Granger.”

“Oh?” she said archly, half turning to look back at him over her shoulder and daring him to continue that with flashing eyes, despite the colour in her cheeks.

“Mm.”

“And who was it that you were caught sneaking about with then?”

Theo absolutely refused to say with whom he’d been caught, and in what state of undress, and by the time they reached the end of their patrol route, she’d stopped prodding at him for answers. He was a Slytherin after all, and did not divulge secrets willingly.  

“Any plans for your birthday, Granger?” he asked conversationally as they made their way back towards the grand staircase. She didn’t have to accompany him, but hadn’t felt like returning yet. “You’ll be nineteen, right?”

A stray draft tugged at her hair and she shivered. With a shrug and a nod, she said, “No plans really. I’ll see what happens and play it by ear.”

“When is it again?” he asked, pace slowing as his eyebrows drew together into a little frown.

“Saturday.”

“No plans with Potter and Weasley?” he asked and when she shrugged again, his expression soured just a fraction more.  

As they passed by a painting of a wizard, who looked remarkably like Charlie Weasley, wrangling a Hungarian Horntail, the dragon gave a shriek that made her jump. Theo chuckled softly and she felt her insides heat up all over again at the sound of it.  

“Slytherin and Gryffindor quidditch try outs are this Saturday,” he said, sounding a little regretful, though she couldn’t figure out why.  

“You don’t even play quidditch,” she scoffed, happy to have moved away from the topic of Harry and Ron.  

“Draco does. He’s going for seeker, remember?”

“Oh, of course. He’ll probably get it too - he’s apparently quite good.”

“Mm. Prodigious. You should see him now. He trains practically every morning.”

She thought about the lone flyer she’d seen and wondered if that had been Malfoy. It seemed likely, but she didn’t bring it up. “Ginny asked me to come along, but…” she grimaced. “It’s really not my thing.”

“Really?” Theo snorted sarcastically, turning to look at her from one step ahead. He was still taller than her by a long shot, even then. “I had no idea that you didn’t enjoy quidditch, Granger. It’s not as if you’ve ranted extensively and effusively about how ridiculous you think the whole game is on a number of our patrols this term…”

She punched him on the arm and he just laughed and skipped jauntily down the staircase as he headed back to the Slytherin Dungeons for the night.

“See you tomorrow, Granger,” was all he said as he left, waving jauntily over one shoulder without looking back.  

Hermione didn’t watch him go. Instead, she turned and glared at the Horntail in the painting as she passed, and then stumped back up to Gryffindor tower, feeling oddly conflicted. Patrols weren’t supposed to be this much fun. They were supposed to be sensible and practical, like books, but… then again, books could also be a lot of fun. It had been such a long time since she’d really allowed herself to even dream about anything so flippant as her interest in the opposite sex. Theo’s dimples kept drifting back into her thoughts, and even the silver eyes of Theo’s best friend. Once or twice, when they went soft and even gentle, she’d even thought Malfoy startlingly attractive. He still looked haunted and tired, but he had lost a lot of the hard, jagged edges recently.  

With thoughts of a pair of puzzling Slytherins filling her head, she fell into bed and, for the first time in months, it didn’t even cross her mind to think about setting unnecessary wards. Her head hit the pillow and she fell deeply asleep. 

___

Chapter Five

If you enjoyed, please reblog and share! I’m new to the fandom on here and appreciate all the help I can get!

___

writing masterlist | Ao3

[frickfracksnatchisback]

Loves Makes You Melt (Snatcher x Reader)

Oh wow! I actually managed to post this in the morning, and not late in the afternoon! Anyways, back on the Snatcher fluff again! But this time, I’ve dedicated this fluff to @ahatincrime! (A lovely headcannon of their’s inspired me to make this, and it’s here unless you don’t want to spoil yourselves! But seriously check out their blogs, they’re amazing)

Enjoy your healthy dose of Snatcher fluff! ;3

***

You were a very lucky person to be with someone like Snatcher. Extremely lucky, in fact. Nobody else seemed to be such a perfect fit for him, except you. You calmed him whenever he was upset, made him happy when he needed it most, and, overall, showed Snatcher a side of himself that he didn’t even know was there. You helped him become more open to love, by being there at his side every step of the way. And you were more than glad that he chose you to be his soulmate.

And Snatcher felt he was just as lucky to have you as his soulmate! As much as he didn’t want other people to see, he really did have a soft spot for you. At first he thought the idea of finding love again seemed like a waste of time, not to mention seemingly impossible for someone like him. Yet you proved him wrong, by being the first person he had ever cared about in a long time. And whenever you two were alone, Snatcher couldn’t help but boast about how perfect you where. You were the only one who got to see his affectionate side.

And lately, Snatcher had been showing that side of him a lot more often.

The date you were having at the moment was a prime example of that. Snatcher had decided to take you up to the very top of his tree home, to sit on the giant mushroom, so the two of you could star-gaze. Which was a bit odd, as you would kind of expect this sort of thing from Moonjumper. He always seemed to be obsessed with the moon, stars, and whatnot (go figure). But it turns out that Snatcher seemed to like it just as much! He’d point out the constellations and stars, trying his best to recall them from memory. He must have taken an astronomy class at that academy he sometimes mentioned. At least, that’s what you figured.

As you both sat next to each other on the glowing mushroom, you couldn’t help but notice how lovely the night sky looked. With such a clear view, the entire sky looked like it was full of glittering stars. Occasionally, a few dark wispy clouds would sail on by (and you would giggle as Snatcher would complain about it every single time), but other than that the sight was spectacular. And despite the odd choice of date, you two were actually having fun!

“Look! Found one!” Snatcher says as he nudges you, for the third time in a row. He points up to the sky, and you can barely make out a small blue star.

“Ooo! What’s that one called?” you ask him, truly eager to know. He takes a moment, tapping the surface of the mushroom and thinking hard. But after a few seconds, he recalls the name.

“Lyra’s Tear!” Snatcher boasts loudly, quite proud of himself. You “ooh” and “ahh” at his ability to name the star, but you tried not to oversell it. “Quite a tragic story that comes with that one! Now if only I could remember it...” he hums to himself in thought. But eventually he just shrugs, not looking to finish that statement. You look back up at the sky, and one of the stars catches your eye.

“What about that one?” you ask him, pointing to the big red star you found. Snatcher takes a moment to try and find where your pointing at, before letting out an excited gasp.

“That’s it!” he exclaims loudly, nearly making you fall over. You let out a small yelp as you barely manage to catch yourself. “Oh, sorry!” Snatcher apologizes, trying to help you up.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” You tell him, but Snatcher insisted on sitting you back up straight and dusting you off. “So, you were saying?” you ask him to continue, genuinely curious over what he was so excited about.

“Hm? Oh, right!” Snatcher chuckles a bit to himself, before pointing back up to the star. “That one would be Galvar the Brave! And I just happened to remember the story that comes with that one!” he seems excited, hoping that you’ll ask him for more on the subject.

“Really? Tell me!” you say, showing your curiosity to him. But he takes a moment to stare at you, before letting out a deep laugh.

“Oh, I don’t know if should. It’s a rather gruesome tale...” Snatcher has a smirk on his face, pretending like he didn’t want to tell you. But you know his little tricks by now, and roll your eyes at him.

“I’m pretty sure I can handle it.” you say, before reaching for his hand. “C’mon! Tell me already!” you insist, tugging on his clawed hand. For a moment, you see Snatcher’s surprised (and slightly flustered) face once you hold his hand. But it quickly disappears, as that same evil grin returns on his face.

“Oh well, if you insist!” Snatcher lets out a hearty laugh, before clearing his throat.

He proceeds to tell you about how Galvar the Brave fought against a huge monster plaguing a small village, leaving his beloved lady behind. You still keep a hold onto his hand as he tells the story. He seems to notice, giving you a quick glance and a flustered look appearing on his face for just a second. But he doesn’t tell you to stop, and instead goes on. Later into the story he points at two other constellations, saying how one of them was Galvar’s mighty steed and the other the hideous monster.

As he tells you the bloody details of the battle, you find yourself scooting closer to him. He seems to notice this too, but doesn’t move from his spot. Instead, he lets you come closer until you are right next to him. And once you’re there, you wrap your hands around his long arm. This seems to make him stop his story for a moment, with a slight blush growing on his face. And he takes a slight break from his story, softly pushing you into his side and carefully putting his arm around you.

“Did Galvar ever defeat the monster?” you ask him, as you start hugging his side.

“Oh no, he’s totally dead!” Snatcher seems to find this funny, while you’re taken slightly aback.

“Wait, really? Why?” you press on, he must have left out that part.

“Well, you notice how that star is red?” he grins devilishly as he points back to the star, eager to tell you his dark secret. And you nod, though you’re still very confused. “That’s because that’s only his head up there! The monster managed to cut his head cleeeeeean off!” he makes a slicing motion across his neck, so you’ll get the point. “And remember Lyra’s Tear? Lyra was the lady he left behind! She’s crying now that her only love is dead.” Snatcher seems to finish the tale, as he excitedly waits for your response.

But you can only stare, surprised that the story took such a dark turn. But then again, that was Snatcher for you. Despite being dead himself, he could always manage to crack jokes about it. You didn’t quite understand why he did this, but hey, then again you’ve never been a ghost before. And besides, that was one of the things that you liked about Snatcher. He was always unpredictable. Whether it be jokes, stories, or simple introductions, he always had his own spooky twist to add to the mix.

“That’s pretty dark, Snatcher.” you say, somehow managing to laugh at it.

“I know right?! Isn’t it wonderful?” Snatcher cackles to himself.

But you just smile at him, and cuddle up to him like you would a pillow. This seems to cut his laughter off short, with his floof puffing up expectantly. But he doesn’t mind after he sees how peaceful you look. He gives you a warm smile, hugging you closer, before going back to gaze at the stars. And after awhile you look up at him, though he doesn’t seem to be paying attention. But you take in the sight, staring at Snatcher’s happy smiling face. You noticed how beautiful his features looked with the moonlight shining on his face. To you, it was absolutely breath-taking, as you thought about how handsome he looked...

You wondered what it’d be like to kiss him.

You had to mentally pause for a moment. Woah, you thought to yourself. Where did that come from? It was certainly out of the blue, the idea popping into your head so suddenly. And you had no clue how it came across your mind (well, you had some clue). So you shrug it off as just a random thought and try to simply forget about the idea. But then you realized…

Had you ever kissed each other before?

Well, besides kisses on the cheek. That was just something you did on occasion, usually to make Snatcher blush. And Snatcher rarely ever did that back, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t at least once or twice. But you had never really had your “first kiss” together. And the idea of it made your heart start pounding, and your cheeks start to redden. But it also made you wonder...how would that work? Would you even be able to kiss him on the lips? And even if you did, what would it be like? You take a moment to look up at Snatcher, who was still gazing up at the stars. And you feel your heart continue it’s steady thumping as you think about it longer.

Well...it wouldn’t hurt to try, would it?

“Hey, Snatcher?” you reach for Snatcher’s floof, giving it a soft tug. And this snaps him out of his star-gazing, with him looking at you and giving you a smile.

“What’s up?” he gives you his signature grin, though it almost makes you want to bail out. This might be a bad idea, you think to yourself as Snatcher keeps smiling at you. But...he is pretty cute. He wouldn’t be mad if I gave him just a small kiss, would he?

“I want to show you something.” you tell him, deciding to go with the sneaking approach. It was always the best for whenever you wanted to see him flustered. Which, when did you not want to see him flustered? It was so cute!

“Something?” Snatcher asks, a bit skeptical of your actions. But once you give him a nod and a cute smile, he doesn’t suspect you’re being suspicious anymore.

“Yeah...could you come a little closer?” you ask him, a bit nervously. With his height you can’t exactly reach him from where you are. And you really didn’t feel like standing, so have him fall into your trap would be much better.

“Alright, alright.” Snatcher complies, leaning down only a smidge. You frown, as you were hoping he’d come at least a little bit closer to you.

“Maybe a little more than that? Please?” you give him pleading eyes. And Snatcher simply rolls his eyes and leans down only a bit further.

“How’s this?” he says once he’s closer to you. But he’s just too tall, so it’s still not enough.

“Can’t you come all the way down?” you say, getting a bit impatient with him. And Snatcher apparently feels the same, as he lets out a sigh.

“This is going to be a number on my back, you know.” he mumbles under his breath.

“Trust me, it’ll be worth it.” you giggle to yourself, trying to contain your excitement.

“It better be!” Snatcher fusses at you, before leaning down as far as he can. And you move back a bit to give him some space, until he’s right at your level. “Now, what was it you wanted to show m-”

You muffle his words, as you gently grab his floof, quickly pull him closer towards you, and give him a tender kiss on the lips. He jolts, but stays as still as a statue while you kiss him. You expected his lips to be as cold as the rest of him. But oddly enough, you feel a warmth shared between the both of you. And as much as you want to hold the kiss, you finally decide to let go. You look at Snatcher, who’s face is a bright glowing yellow. And you just can’t help but smirk at how cute he is.

“How was that?” you ask him in a soft voice, still holding his face in your hands. But he says nothing, and just stays stiff as a board. “Snatcher?” you call for his attention, starting to get a bit worried. You wave your hand across his eyes, but still no response. “Snatcher, are you okay?” you shake him a bit, hoping you didn’t break him.

And to your surprise, he begins to shrink.

“SNATCHER!” you yell out, as he suddenly starts to melt before your eyes. His body begins to drip, and he immediately sinks right into the ground. He head is the last to melt completely, with it going down with a splash and being submerged in the rest of him. “Oh my gosh, Snatcher! Are you okay?!” you ask over the dark puddle, as you can’t see his face for a moment. You start to panic, you didn’t expect a kiss to do this to him! But then you see bubbles start to appear on the surface, along with Snatcher’s blushing yellow face re-submerging.

“Y-y-yes, I’m f-fine...” you hear him gurgle, and you let out a relieved sigh. You almost forgot he could shape-shift, which probably would have been a good thing to remember.

“Don’t scare me like that!” you fuss at him, and you see the face in the puddle shrink back.

“Sorry...” Snatcher mumbles, looking away from you. “I guess I just couldn’t keep myself together, huh?” he looks back up at you to give a weak smile. And despite the odd circumstance, you manages to snicker at the joke.

“Pfft, you dork.” you giggle, as you boop a spot in the puddle were his “nose” would be.

“Haha, yeah. That was pretty bad.” Snatcher laughs a bit awkwardly. “Um...do you think you could help me out? I’m stuck.” he asks you, reluctantly. And you try to hold in a laugh, he looked pretty silly when he was just a puddle.

“Sure thing!” you agree, and reach your hand into the puddle. You feel something grasp your hand, and you guess that it must be Snatcher’s own hand. You tug with all your might, and start slowly pulling him out of the puddle. And as you do, his form re-materializes back to being solid. He helps you, using his freed arm to push his lower half back up. And with a comical pop, Snatcher’s entire body comes out of the ground and is back to normal. He dusts himself off, before giving you an awkward grin.

“You didn’t answer my question by the way.” you bring it back up, as he makes sure that his body is stable.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t quite catch it earlier. What was it you were saying?” Snatcher says, beginning to tap his fingers nervously.

“How was is? The kiss, I mean.”

“O-oh!” Snatcher face starts blushing again. “It was...nice. Really nice.” he clears his throat, and rubs the back of his head.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that.” you say, feeling yourself become a little nervous.

“Could...you do it again?”

“What?” you whisper, taken by surprise.

“N-never mind. I was just-” Snatcher begins to stutter, before pausing. He seems to consider something, carefully thinking it over to himself. “Oh, peck it.” he huffs to himself, before coming closer to you and bending down. And suddenly, he lifts you into his arms and picks you up off the ground. You let out a surprised yelp, as he props you up in his arms.

“S-Snatcher, wha-”

“Come here, fool~” Snatcher purrs, using a free hand to bring your face up to his. And just like you did with him, he suddenly gives you a surprise kiss. Only this time, he holds it for much longer. But you don’t mind in the slightest, as you try your best to wrap your arms around his neck. You both share the warmth in the kiss, with Snatcher starting to carefully run his claws through your hair. But eventually he lets go, slowly parting his lips from yours. You take a moment to stare at him, completely dazed.

“You could’ve just asked first...” you laugh, as you feel your face growing hot.

“Oh, I’m the one who should have asked?” Snatcher teases you, as he goes to ruffle your hair. And you can’t help but giggle to yourself as he messes up your hair. But after he stops you smile up at him, giving him a loving look.

“I love you~” you sigh, trying to come up closer to him, just to kiss him one more time.

“I love you too...” Snatcher seems to notices, as he shifts you up so you two can meet.

You both kiss each other again, just a small peck on the lips this time. And then you find yourself laying your head onto Snatcher’s floof, cuddling your face into it. He purrs steadily, cradling you close to him so you’ll be comfortable. You feel a sudden movement, and realize that Snatcher is taking you back down into his home. He keeps his hold on you, as he slowly floats down into his home. There is surprising warmth in his cozy home, and you find yourself letting out a tired yawn.

“Feeling sleepy, love?” Snatcher asks you quietly, once he sits you both down in his armchair.

“Mhm...” you mumbled sleepily, nuzzling into his softness.

And upon hearing this, Snatcher summons a large fluffy blanket to wrap around the both of you. He tucks you in the most though, making sure you are comfy as can be. Then he starts to hum a soft tune for you, like a lullaby, to put you to sleep. And it doesn’t take long before you close your eyes and slowly drift off. Snatcher doesn’t join you just yet, he just simply watches over you as you let out quiet murmurs. He almost sheds a tear over how peaceful and calm you looked, just resting against his chest. And after a few hours, slowly but surely, he joins you in quiet slumber.

And he happily dreams about his soulmate, who he is so very lucky to have.

[rudrjobdesk]

महिला सिपाही ने झपटमारों का किया विरोध तो उचक्‍कों ने चलती ट्रेन से फेंका बाहर, अस्‍पताल में भर्ती

महिला सिपाही ने झपटमारों का किया विरोध तो उचक्‍कों ने चलती ट्रेन से फेंका बाहर, अस्‍पताल में भर्ती

कटिहार. बिहार के कटिहार जिले से सनसनीखेज खबर सामने आई है. अपराधियों ने एक महिला पुलिसकर्मी को चलती ट्रेन से धक्‍का दे दिया. इस घटना में महिला कांस्‍टेबल बुरी तरह से घायल हो गईं. बेहतर इलात के लिए उन्‍हें कटिहार मेडिकल कॉलेज में भर्ती कराया गया है. झपटमारों का गिरोह चलती ट्रेन में आपराधिक घटनाओं को अंजाम दे रहे थे. महिला पुलिसकर्मी ने उसका विरोध किया. अपराधियों के हौसले इतने बुलंद थे कि पुलिस से…

[buckysforeverprincess]

Switch -Part 2

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Avengers

Words: 2097

Warnings: Language, female presenting nipples, sexual situations

A/N: I decided to make this a 3 part thing, because part 2 was extremely long and I wanted this to have it’s own moment. The smut comes in part 3. Enjoy.

No one knew what to say. Everything screamed Y/N! The voice, the body all of it. Nothing outwardly had changed. Steve and Sam just thought Y/N had gone crazy, and Wanda and Nat both crossed their arms and smirked. You decided to take a seat on the counter and wait for the fireworks to really begin.  

“Morning all-what the hell, Y/N?!” Tony has finally made his way to the common area to join everyone for breakfast. He missed the initial scream but is now here for the show that is the now ‘The Winter Soldier: Body Snatcher’. “Have too much fun with the playboy last night and forget your clothes?!” The genius goes straight for the coffee maker deciding he needed more of it before having to deal with the events unfolding in the kitchen.  

“Morning Barnes!” Tony gives a casual nod to you sitting on the counter. You take a sip of the liquid in the cup, and immediately Tony notices something is off.

“Since when do you drink coffee, ice king...and in Y/N’s cup, no less?”

The only thing you can do is shrug and wait for the others to catch on.

“You!” Bucky turns his direction to the Scarlet Witch, “you did this to me, didn't you?!” Bucky's in her face at this point, but it's not as intimidating as it would be if he was in his super soldier body. She can't help but laugh at his efforts.

“I have no idea what you're talking about!” Wanda laughs in his face, repeating the same words he has said to her many times after playing one of his jokes on her.

“Don't lie to me you witch! This is payback for yesterday isn't it?”  

“Wait…” Sam stops Wanda from answering, having questions of his own, “Y/N...what could she have possibly done to you? I mean...did she make you hotter? Because damn girl! That ass though!!”

“Did you just fucking objectify my girlfriends body?” Bucky moves and is now in Sam’s face pointing a finger at him.

“I mean-you are, ya know wearing a thong and I'm a man that loves ass dimples!”

Steve has now started laughing hysterically and has doubled over from laughing so hard. Tony makes his way from the coffee to check out the look Bucky is sporting so he's not left out.

“Those are really nice. Perfect for hand placement-”

“Don't fucking finish that thought, tin man, so help me God!” Bucky has directed his finger Tony’s way.

The whole group is laughing sans Bucky. He's getting more and more pissed off with each passing moment, and you're just sitting there…on the counter, enjoying your coffee. No need to get involved quite yet. This is way too much fun.

“Someone needs to explain what the hell is going on!” Bucky demands, crossing his arms to his chest and covering your exposed breasts, standing like a petulant child. Thank god you don't have issues with your body, because this could've become awkward real fast.

“Y/N…why don't you tell us what it is you remember.” Nat says very calmly, not giving away how much she already knows.  

Bucky scans the room taking in all the faces looking at him obviously thinking he was crazy, before he starts to recant what he can recall. “I remember going to bed with Y/N, in my body! James Buchanan Barnes, aka Winter Soldier, me! This morning, I wake up and I'm her! This is not my body!” He pointing to himself trying to emphasize the point.  

“Definitely a nice ass body!” Sam says, and Steve gives him an elbow to the gut.

“So, someone switched your body?” Steve questions, not sure if he believes what he's hearing.

They've been pranked by Bucky too many times to count, so this could be just another of one his tricks having his girlfriend in on it. There's going to have to be a lot more convincing than just his word.

“Ugh! I don't understand how I'm in a room full of people who continually save the world, but all of you are way too fucking stupid to see what's in front of you!”

You bust out laughing like a damn hyena from the counter. Everyone has now directed their looks to you and Wanda does a faceplant with her hand. Everything had been going so well.

“Baby, do you realize what you just said?” You say in between laughs. “You're what's in front of them...you! They can clearly see you!”  

If looks could kill, you'd be dead. James/you is glaring hard at you/him. He has your face so bunched up, you're pretty sure he's going to give you permanent wrinkles on your forehead.

Bucky stalks up to you, paying no mind to everyone else in the room. “You're being unsarcastically hyper nonverbal!” He yells at you with fire in his eyes. “What is it that you know?”

This is where the fun begins, and payback becomes the worst bitch imaginable. You hop off the counter and stand over Bucky. You can see what it looks like when roles are reversed and he's towering over you. Let the games commence.

“Well, I know that right now…your tits are showing because you chose to wear that ridiculous quarter of a shirt to bed. I'm also aware of the fact that Sam had begun sexualizing you since the moment he saw you in that thong. How did you seriously let me buy that for you, you hate thongs?! But I will agree with him...that ASS though! The suddenness of the amount of crazy you've displayed here this morning can only mean one thing…...you're due to start your period any second now. I'm sorry sweetie, I'll make sure I run out and get your favorite kind of ice cream. Other than that,…good morning my love. Coffee?” You give him a grin, but this just upsets him even more.

Bucky laughs at you, but there's an intense amount of anger in his eyes. You watch him continue to laugh as he walks over to Wanda and gets back in her face.

“I don't know what you did, but it somehow involved my girlfriend over there!” Bucky’s pointing at you now. “I will find out the truth…but for now...I really have to go pee!”

Bucky turns and stomps back to your room.

“Sweetheart!” You yell out before he makes it through the threshold, making him stop and look over his shoulder waiting for you to speak. “Always overnight or extra heavy? Oh, how about tampons this time, I can get those?”

Bucky inhales a deep breath and throws up a middle finger at you without even batting an eye, and continues into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

“So, spill ice age...what'd you do to our sweet Y/N?” Tony’s grabbed a bagel and is spreading cream cheese on it.

“I really have no idea what's going on!” You're trying to look as puzzled as possible to avoid further questioning.

“I hate to admit this, but I have to go with Tony on this one…,” Sam has made his way into the center of the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of juice, “you're both acting crazy this morning. Did something happen between you two?”

The door to the bedroom opens and once again Bucky/you comes out, but this time he's managed to find your extremely short black mini skirt, and blue midriff shirt. Oh, looks like he found a bra…but what about...oh you dirty asshole!  

“Baby?” Bucky walks over and places his/your ass right up against the shorts he slept in last night and rubs himself up and down the front of you. “I'm so sorry for the way I behaved.” His movements becoming hotter by the second. “I didn't mean to cause a scene. I promise to do better daddy!”

The last words were all it took, and you were now fully turned on, Bucky's cock standing at attention. How in the fuck did that happen? God damn him for being an expert in kinky fuckery!

“Oh daddy…did I do that?!” Bucky turns around and faces you, taking his hand and rubbing the hard member through your shorts.

“Fuck…” It comes out as a whisper, but Bucky hears it and keeps rubbing you with his hands.  

No one was moving. They're all stuck in place watching what's happening between the two of you. Normally, you guys would disappear at this point, so no one was traumatized by your actions, but today Bucky didn't care and everyone else was fully intent on watching the show Bucky was attempting to put on. Well played, asshole…well played.  

“Let me take care of you…”

Bucky reaches into the shorts and starts rubbing your hand on his cock. You close your eyes and a shiver runs through your body. The hand on what is now your dick feels so fucking good. You’re pretty sure Bucky’s trying to get you to come in front of everyone, and that has your brain come back to reality.

“Sweetie, what are you doing? This is bedroom activity, you know that.”

Bucky stops suddenly and begins glaring at you. He lets out a huff and removes his hand from your shorts. Bucky starts to walk away again but stops right at the threshold of your room just like before. This time, Bucky/you turns around and faces the entire group. He looks directly at you and gives you a huge smirk.

“Should’ve known you wouldn't cave that easy. I know you’re aware what’s going on, so….” Bucky pauses and lifts the midriff over his head and undoes the bra, exposing your breasts to every single person in the room.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. Record this!” Tony demands of the A.I., while Steve covers his eyes, and Sam crosses his arms and nods in approval.

“Take a good hard look!” You watch him grab at your nipples, pinching at them hard and moaning something loud and pornographic. “You now have to live with the fact that every single one of them have seen your perfect breasts and watched me touch your perky tight nipples. Once you see, you can't unsee!” Bucky blows you one last kiss and enters your bedroom shutting the door.

“You're fucked!” Nat looks over at you with an amused smile and begins to laugh at what just took place.

“This ain't over, darlin’…I got all day!” Your run your hands through the long brown hair, figuring out your next step.

“Buck, what did you do?” Steve walks over to the island and gives you his best Captain America stance.

“I woke up, Steve. I woke up.”  

Tony continues to look at the door of the bedroom Bucky and you occupy, waiting for another show. When he realizes it's not happening he decides it’s time for real talk. “For some reason, ice capades, I don't believe you. She just let us see her boobs….and you're ok with it? I mean, I'm all for it, she has a great rack…but any other time you'd beat the living hell out of us for even thinking about looking. What's up?” You remain silent as you shrug your shoulders at Tony, not knowing what to say.  

“I'm calling bull shit as well…” Sam starts to chime in “I've seen her in more and you've threatened to rearrange my face via that arm! What gives?”

Jesus, they're calling you out. They know something’s not right, and you have no idea how to get yourself out of this one.  

“Hold on everyone!” Nat speaks up, coming to your defense. “Y/N is my best friend. I'd be the first to know if something was wrong. Trust me…that's normal Y/N when she's about to go on a mission. She's just never let you see that side of her.”

Tony starts shaking his head, “nope, don't buy it! Boobs, Nat! Boobs!” Tony exclaims, and Steve palms his face.

“Can we not point out one of my best friends boobs to the world?” Cap asks while rubbing his face.

“Why? I mean-you can't not look.”

Wanda rolls her eyes at your comment and shakes her head. “You should go get dressed Bucky. Go talk to your girlfriend.” She gives you a stern look and you sigh heavily, accepting defeat and make your way to the bedroom door.

You pause before entry, taking one last look at your friends trying to commit their faces to memory before walking in to face a very pissed off Bucky Barnes/you. They all wave to you, and you give a two-finger salute before opening the door and walking into certain death.

[fluffyseapancakes]

Snatcher Part 2

I got some requests to continue with this Snatcher series and I’m really excited about it. Thank you everyone for all the support and kind messages, it means a lot to me. This part isn’t really tickly because I wanted to focus on setting up the series, but I hope you still like it. Here’s part 1 if you haven’t read it!  

You wake up the next morning with fear that the Avengers are going to hate you for your past crimes. Upon entering the living room, you realize laughter is the key to break the ice. 

_____________________________

You have been awake for quite a while. The sun was shining through the curtain and the alarm clock next to your bed read 8:10AM. Happy had gone to your apartment the night before and moved out all your belongings, which were stacked neatly in boxes in the center of the room. Your room was larger than the entire apartment you used to live in, the queen sized four poster canopy bed was placed elegantly against the wall and a decent sized dresser stood directly across the room. You had a walk-in closet which you thought was a waste because you only owned six items of clothing, and a modest desk with a cushioned chair was facing the large windows that led to a view of the city. The floors were bare but Tony insisted on taking you rug shopping later. The room even had your personal bathroom with a waterfall shower, a soaking tub, an automated toilet, and a beautiful vanity. You were overwhelmed by the luxury last night and now you pretended to be asleep on the memory foam mattress under the softest sheets, wondering if this has been a big mistake.

You were just a kid when those scientists experimented on you, everyday you suffered and begged for death but finally when you developed powers, you escaped the facility and lived on the streets. You did odd jobs like stealing and other petty crimes so you could feed and shelter yourself. One night, you accepted a job offer which entailed stealing Iron Man’s suit, so you broke into the Stark Towers and thought it was an easy job. Long story short, Spiderman caught and tormented you for a bit, and Tony Stark himself offered protection and a mentorship so you could better harness your abilities and possibly become an Avenger. You were so excited and happy that your life was finally turning around, but now reality was sinking in.

I’m a criminal, you thought to yourself, I destroyed the Avengers’ weapons and helped Hydra without even knowing it. You knew the second you stepped out of your room, the Avengers were going to hate you and make your life more of a miserable hell than it already was. Peter seemed friendly enough, but it was because you were about the same age as him. Tony was the one who made all of this come true, but what if he did it for an ulterior motive and was going to humiliate and destroy you?

During your thoughts, you heard a soft knock at the door.

“Who is it?” Your voice was raspy and you winced at how weak you sounded.

“Y/N it’s Tony, just wanted to let you know we have breakfast ready and we’re waiting on you,” a familiar voice came through the door. He sounded cheery but you remained on edge.

“Ok, I’ll be right out,” you climbed out of bed and crossed the room towards the dresser. Happy had neatly folded your shirts and pants in a couple drawers, and your one jacket and sweatshirt was hung in the walk-in closet. Your undergarments, to your relief, were in a cardboard box to ensure privacy.

“Alrighty kiddo, everyone’s real excited to meet you,” you heard Tony’s footsteps fade away and you sighed. Excited to kill me.

You decided on a black shirt that you stole from a thrift store and unfashionably torn up jeans, slipping on the only pair of non-holey socks you owned, you came out of your room and headed to the living area. Remembering the very quick tour Tony had given you last night, you easily found the right floor and followed the sound of laughter and conversation, the smell of pancakes hit you and your stomach gurgled in response.

“Hey Y/N!” Tony quickly walked over as you entered the room and ushered you to the group of people sitting on a large sofa in the center of the room. You recognized everyone’s faces, surprised that all of them had friendly smiles and a hint of curiosity in their eyes.

“This is Y/N, you guys know her as the Snatcher,” he squeezed your shoulder reassuringly and you realized your body was tensed up, slowly releasing the tension, you looked at everyone with a shy smile, “she’s going to be staying with us for a while and we’re gonna get her into tiptop shape.”

“Hi,” you waved awkwardly and made eye contact with Peter who was hanging around by the kitchen. He flashed you a cheeky grin and your smile grew in response, “I don’t really know what to say but…I’m really happy to be here.”

“How old are you?” The stunning spy you recognized as the Black Widow asked, she was relaxed on the sofa with a cup of coffee in her hands, no sign that she was going to strangle you to death.

“Fourteen,” you responded, her eyebrow rose up in surprise.

“Tony, you want to train a kid on how to survive the missions that we do?” She sounded concerned and you noticed Captain America, Dr. Banner, Clint Barton, and Thor all had the same look on their faces.

“Yeah Tony, I get that she’s real good for her age and all, but isn’t this a little extreme?” Captain America, who’s name you recalled as Steve Rogers, piped up.

“She can handle it,” Tony put his arm around you protectively, “she’s survived through more than you guys can believe. Besides, I’m mentoring Pete over there and he’s not dead yet,” he nodded towards the boy who’s eyes grew in response, “I know that Y/N is going to be a huge asset to our team so trust me on this.”

Silence fell upon the room and you shifted nervously on your feet, expecting some kind of riot or an arrow through your heart.

“Well if she’s part of the family, we must accept her as so,” Thor stood up and your mouth gaped at how tall he was, he bent down and gave you a massive hug, his arms easily wrapped around your small frame. You paused for a second and slowly hugged him back, you heard him chuckle in your ear and let you go.

“If she’s part of the family, then I can do this!” Peter ran over to you before you could stop him and he latched his fingers into your sides. You squealed and batted him away, giving him the deadliest glare you could master.

“Oh you asshole, wait till I get you,” the boy gulped and immediately took off, you were right behind him yelling out threats and obscenities. Everyone laughed as they watched you chase him around the kitchen and throughout the living room, finally Peter’s high-pitched laughter joined everyone else’s when you tackled him down and went to town on his belly. You happily found out Spiderman was a lot more sensitive than you were, and you tickled the living snot out of him. Tony stood and watched the scene unfold with a grin on his face, he knew you were going to settle in perfectly with the Avengers.

[strelitzicae-arts]

I decided to design a quirkless vigilante deku! His vigilante name is Asteroid (mainly just bc it sounds cool and matches the jacket that he found at a thrift shop).

Info about his gear and backstory under the cut!

If you can’t read the picture, it says little details about his gear. 

He has gloves for hand to hand combat, which is his main specialty.  

His mask has a voice modifier built in, with buttons and knobs so that he can change the volume, what voice he is using, turn it off, change the pitch, or mute his voice in general.

He has a knife that he only uses in emergencies, and hes only willing to use it on villain’s arms and legs so he doesn’t critically hurt them

He has eskrima rods, which is what he mainly uses when hand to hand won’t suffice

He has a FAKE gun, which he uses for intimidation purposes in emergencies

He has a backpack, which is thin enough that he can hide it under his jacket

He keeps a gps tracker on him, which he can stick onto a villain or can be used to track him if he is kidnapped

He has a first aid kit for obvious reasons

He keeps no less than 3 water bottles on him because hydration is key to success

He has a burner phone that he can use to call the police or family or whatever in emergencies

He keeps a locked notebook on him, so he can take confidential notes about villains and important events

As for his backstory, he’s still quirkless. After coming home injured from being bullied too many times, Inko signs him up for martial arts and self defense classes. She knows that he’ll need them in the future due to prejudice against quirkless people, but he ends up really enjoying them. He ends up taking multiple disciplines, and going into competitions.

However, he still wants to be a hero to help people, so Inko ends up going with him to start volunteering at soup kitchens, clean ups, etc. At first he doesn’t really get it, but as he volunteers more he becomes more invested in helping other people in small ways. He starts volunteering at bigger projects, like building houses for the homeless, to try and make a difference.

Because of this and school, he doesn’t have as much time for quirk analysis, but he still enjoys theorizing and talking about quirks on forums. He’s rarely at school outside of class due to training and volunteering, so he isn’t bullied all that much either.

However, the years of bullying from his childhood left their mark, and he is very shy and doesn’t trust easily. He has to work in the back at soup kitchens, because he cant handle interacting with so many people at once when helping serve. At clean ups and builds, aside from other people he sees there regularly, he keeps to himself. He doesn’t have any friends from martial arts classes or school, either.

Not to mention his self doubt issues. Despite what everyone says about him being a hard worker or helping others, he has a hard time believing it. 

He never actually intended to become a vigilante. However, one day on the way home he passed by someone who was being mugged in an alley. And because of his nature to help whenever he can, he used his martial arts skills to easily take down the villain. The person thanked him profusely, but he deflected the praise, saying that helping people wasn’t anything special. The person wouldn’t budge, and finally he relented and took a coupon they offered him, and went on his way.

And then it happened again. And again. And again.

By the 20th time, people begin to talk about it. Sure, its nothing big - just a forum thread with less than 100 views, but still, people know him. People think hes a vigilante. 

This isn’t exactly an ideal situation, but he can’t stop himself from helping others. Which leads to him defending a pink haired girl from some bullies who were beating her up.

Thats how he meets Hatsume Mei, 13 year old genius, same age as him. She insists on making him his friend, which he can’t argue against because a. he would like a friends, but friendship is hard b. Hatsume Mei is an unstoppable force, and Izuku is the furthest thing from an immovable object.

And then one day, while their hanging out, Izuku once again steps in to stop a purse snatcher, and Mei has a realization.  

“Hey, are you like, a vigilante or something?”

“Uh, I don’t think so? I just step in when someone is in trouble, which happens, uh, a lot.”

“So you’re a vigilante.”

Despite clarifying that he, a quirkless 13 year old is not a vigilante, Mei decides she will be his tech support. Plus, its good practice to try and get into UA by building Izuku some gear.

So that how Izuku ends up with a thrift shop hoodie with a shit ton of kevlar sewn in, other sturdy gear, some combat boots painted green with stars to match his hoodie, a back pack, a tool belt, and some self defense weapons. In order to not give his mom a heart attack by coming home with a stab wound, he and mei sewed kevlar into just about everything he was wearing, and he kept a gps tracker on him at all times so that, if he was kidnapped, they could find him.

Mei eventually also builds him some smoke bombs, flash bangs, and pepper spray, and in the process of helping her he realizes “oh hey, building things is fun and im good at it.” He even builds himself a pair of goggles with a zoom function, barely needing her help.

He mainly deals with small crime- the things police and heroes don’t notice, but he makes a name for himself. He tells everyone that he is Asteroid- small compared to planets, but still bright enough to be seen in the sky. No one knows who he really is because he covers his freckles with make up, he has a mask with a voice modifier, and he covers his hair with the hoodie, but they still thank his vigilante persona. One girl invited him to go to the bar with her and her friends, and two guys have tried to give him money as thanks.

Being a vigilante was actually pretty fun. He and Mei worked together to build better gear, and all the research that building gear required helped him do good in his science classes also. His teacher recommends him going for a tech school, or even UA’s general or support department.

He would like to go to UA with Mei, but he isn’t an idiot. Anyone who has been online knows who Asteroid is. There are multiple hero forum posts about him, and theres a small subreddit filled with people thanking him for helping them. One wrong move and someone at UA would realize who he is, and he’d be arrested. Sure, it isn’t technically vigilantism because he doesn’t have a quirk, but he’s still using force against others, and he doubts that smoke bombs are something a 14 year old is allowed to have. So, hero school is out of the question.

He thinks about tech school, and almost has his mind set until one night, he finds a villain with a fire quirk. He has scars on his face, and has cornered a few girls in an alley. So Izuku steps in, and probably has his first real fight.

Sure, he’s been in skirmishes before, but nothing as extreme as this. The girls get an opening to run away, but Izuku doesn’t. This guy knows how to fight, and how to use his quirk to help him fight. Izuku is almost impressed. They trade blow for blow. The man with the fire quirk is wearing extremely thin clothes, so he feels Izuku’s blows harder, but Izuku is getting burned easily. Just barely, however, Izuku manages to knock him hard on the head with an eskrima rod (not how it was intended to be used, but it works), sending him down. Some zipties and pinching some pressure points, and the man is completely down. 

As he walks away, nursing his wounds, he thinks about what could’ve been done better. If his fabric was fire proof, he wouldn’t have been burned as hard. If he had something like a taser to shock enemies, he would’ve gone down faster. If he had better gloves, his knuckles wouldn’t be so bloody after that fight. It goes on and on. 

And Izuku knows the best way to gain access to those materials is UA’s support department. 

He calls Mei that night, and with a sigh, reveals probably he stupidest idea since becoming a vigilante.

[erekiosuncreativeideas]

Being Human - Chapter 03

<= Chapter 02

Summary : The group is trying to find a way to reverse all of this. It does not go as planned. Also available on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/24826561/chapters/60472282

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

New chapter ! I hope you'll like it ! Thank you so much for all your like, reblogs and support, it helps me so much, you have no idea !! Really, thank you !

I commissioned a drawing from @cheesytrishy​ for this chapter ! Go support her art, it's so beautiful !!

The "Oh The Humanity" AU belongs to @doodledrawsthings​ !

I wish you all a happy reading !

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Chapter 3 - “I don’t want to stay like this…”

Snatcher had guessed pretty well that walking was going to be a difficult experience. After all, it was hard to stand up for someone who had been used to floating around for centuries! However, he didn’t think it would be that hard, if he had to be completely honest.

Assisted by his minion and the two brats, the ghost was trying to put one foot after the other, doing his best to keep his balance. The kids were holding him up by the waist, while the spirit had put his hands on their shoulders. As for his minion, they were pushing his back, to keep him from falling backwards. At first, the group had thought it would work pretty well, considering that Snatcher’s human body wasn’t exactly heavy… But it was much more complicated than what they first thought.

Thus, the group was walking through Subcon Forest, in order to reach the shade’s tree house. Yet, while they wanted to remain discreet… The newly founded group wasn’t exactly silent.

-“For peck’s sake, stop leaning on me so much!” snapped the hatted child in a hush, irritated at the weight he was putting on her shoulder as he was trying to keep his balance: “It hurts!”

Snatcher gritted his teeth and rolled his eyes, retorting with annoyance:

-“Well, if you were doing a better job of helping me walking, maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much!”

-“I swear, I’m going to let go of you if you keep that up,” threatened the brat in retaliation, apparently not liking where the conversation was going. She lightly loosened her grip on him to prove her words, showing him she could very well take her arms away if she wanted to. To the shade’s discontent, it was more than enough to shut him up, as he didn’t really want to experience falling down again.

Physical pain was so awful. Well, just like being alive was, generally speaking.

The bow-wearing kid and the subconite glanced at each other briefly, silently worrying about the time bomb that was the other two. They had been bickering since the beginning and, from what they were seeing, it wasn’t going to stop. Furthermore, some parts of the forest being quite rugged didn’t help to pacify the duo. It was a wonder that no other minions had noticed them as they were crossing the forest.

Soon, they managed to get to Snatcher’s home, very much recognizable from how big the tree was compared to all the others. A yellowish light was coming from the lamps scattered all around it and the ghost couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief at the sight: they were finally here. He didn’t exactly know how long it took them to actually arrive, but it sure had seemed like hours to him. All of his muscles were extremely painful and tired from the effort. It probably wasn’t much for any normal person, but his situation was far from being normal.

-“Come on, Snatcher, only a few feet away!” encouraged the younger brat. She hesitated to pat him on the back as a supportive gesture but held herself back. The guilty look on her face probably showed that she remembered how oversensitive his body was at the moment. The spirit couldn’t help but feel a bit of gratefulness, though he quickly pushed that emotion out of his mind.

It was their fault if he was in this particular situation to begin with!

The group approached the tree and, after a few steps, entered the open living room. The brats and the minion helped him to sit in his purple armchair, for him to rest. As soon as his body was able to relax on the chair, the shade gave out another sigh, this time of content. He could feel himself sink into the comfortable fabric, gravity pulling him down. The rest of the team sighed as well, apparently very glad to not have to hold him up anymore. The hatted child stretched out, soon imitated by her younger friend. The minion just watched them silently for a while and then came closer to the resting spirit:

-“So, Boss. What are we looking for?” they questioned, more than ready to help the shade.

The words brought the latter back to reality. It wasn’t the time to rest, they had a lot of research to do! He straightened up, feeling the joints of his bones crack from the sudden movement. He winced at the sensation: God, he would never get used to that.

Forcing himself to focus on the current situation, the spirit pointed at the closet in front of him, trying to stay impassive despite the gesture hurting his arm.

-“There are books in there. The ones at the bottom are those about magic. Take them out and give them to me,” he instructed, watching them opening the closet after his words. They took out the books he had mentioned, bringing them to him. Most of them were quite large and heavy, thus not very easy to carry around, especially for small people like them. Snatcher’s minion almost tripped while holding one of them, barely managing to find back his balance. In any other case, it would have made him laugh out loud, yet he couldn’t find the energy to smile in the state he was in.

He was too much in pain for that.

Little by little, a pile of books formed at his feet and he quickly grabbed one to read in the meantime. It was a thick book, with a dark and solid cover. The surface was soft and the ghost couldn’t help but let his fingers run on it. His mind became blank as he felt the texture under his skin. It was… So weird to feel things again. It was still very unpleasant, of course! Yet, there was something more this time, something he couldn’t quite place at the moment.

Was it… A feeling of nostalgia? He couldn’t really know.

Soon enough, he felt stares on him and he lifted his head, seeing the others watching him with a worried expression. When his eyes met theirs, they quickly glanced elsewhere, as if they had never been staring at him in the first place. The ghost squinted, but remained silent, not wishing to cause another argument: he was too tired for that.

-“I’m not sure we’ll find anything useful in them…” said the bow-wearing kid, tentatively.

Snatcher frowned, not liking what she was implying:

-“How would you know? You don’t know magic, as far as I can tell,” he reminded her, sharply, clenching his fists as the words left his mouth. This time, the hatted brat answered him, putting her hands on her hips as she did so:

-“Well, maybe we don’t, fine. But it’s not a magic problem. It’s a Time Piece one,” she remarked, raising an eyebrow at his answer.

The shade felt anger coming back to him and he took a deep breath to not lose his calm:

-“I don’t care what the cause is. All I care about is to reverse this, one way or another,” he replied darkly, slowly articulating each syllable to make his point, as clear as possible. He was sick of being in this useless meaty body and the sooner he reversed all of this, the better.

Not wasting any more time, he finally opened the book and flipped a few pages, irritably, skimming them as fast as he could. He didn’t really know how much time they had left before another subconite ran into them…And, frankly, Snatcher didn’t want to explain everything again. His eyes glanced at the words, searching for anything related to Time Pieces. In front of him, the kids and the subconite apparently had decided to help and they had sat on the ground, each taking a book to read. Well, at least, it would make things go faster. Well, he hoped so. He knew the kids could read his contracts, since they had scribbled on his last one, so they weren’t completely useless.

A few minutes passed in deafening silence, only interrupted by the sounds of pages being flipped and by the sound of the wind going through the living room. The air was cold and dry, which wasn’t reassuring Snatcher very much: it already showed that the effects of his powers over his part of the forest were decreasing. He wondered how many hours it would take for Vanessa to notice it and send a blizzard to them… He could only hope for Vanessa to be too busy doing whatever she did in that freezing manor of hers.

Time went on and Snatcher’s pessimistic nature grew more and more as he couldn’t find anything that could potentially help him. He sometimes stopped the others in their reading to ask if they had found anything, to which they only shook their head, more and more concerned with time. The ghost was becoming fidgety and his anxiety was growing faster and faster.

Why couldn’t he find anything? Why?

He gritted his teeth once again and, on the verge of a nervous breakdown, he threw the book he was holding outside, not caring what would happen to it. He had had enough of this. He just wanted to be a ghost again! He put his head into his hands, ignoring the looks he was getting from the rest of the group. It wasn’t like he could just commit suicide to get back to his old spectral form. If he ever did that, he would probably come back as a dweller and that would be even worse than being stuck as a human… At least, he still had a body.

-“I don’t want to stay like this…” he murmured, feeling his nails scratching his head, sending even more unwanted sensations to him. Without thinking, he let out a scream of frustration, which echoed all around him. He then slammed his fists on the armrests, before quickly regretting it, as more pain erupted from the sudden contact. He held back a cry and clenched his jaw.

When he reopened his eyes, the group was still staring at him, more than concerned. The kids were looking at him with sympathy in their eyes, which made Snatcher’s new stomach turn. Ugh, he hated that look. His minion, on the other hand, was doing his best to stay impassive, surely knowing he didn’t like being pitied. The latter came closer and put their small hands on the left armrest, trying to be encouraging:

-“It’s alright, Boss, we’ll find a way to turn you back to normal! I’m sure there are plenty of ways to do so! Right, kids?” they made a discreet gesture to the children, inciting them to agree. The little girls didn’t understand right away and tilted their head in confusion. The subconite’s body language started to show his irritation and they quickly pointed to Snatcher silently, oblivious to the fact that the ghost could see him very well. Soon enough, a look of realization crossed the children’s features and the bow wearing kid tried to make up for their previous lack of understanding:

-“Oh, uh, yeah, totally!” she said with a fake enthusiastic tone. She elbowed her older friend when the latter didn’t say anything to encourage Snatcher: “Right, Hat?” But, instead of trying to do so, the older child shook her head slowly, a dark and sad expression on her face:

-“I prefer being honest… The only way to fix a Time Piece problem is to break another one.”

The group turned to her, watching her intensely. Snatcher’s desperate expression was replaced by a mix of astonishment and anger. Why didn’t she say so earlier?! That would have prevented them from walking all over there! Why didn’t they just smashed the Time Piece again to fix the problem if it was so easy?

The kid apparently guessed what he was thinking and cut him short before he was even able to say anything:

-“But… It wouldn’t work in your case,” she said, anticipating his interrogations as she explained more: “Because if you broke it again, you would just… Get younger. You wouldn’t go back to being dead.”

She paused, ignoring the reprimanding look given by her younger friend and the subconite, and eventually concluded, sadly:

-“I’m… I’m really sorry, Snatcher.”

The ghost felt like all of his hopes had been shattered to nothing. His denial had been destroyed, forcing him to accept the fact that he was stuck in this horrible and awful body. He lowered his head, gritting his teeth: he didn’t want to accept that! This wasn’t fair! He didn’t deserve all of this!

He was about to retort something when the bow-wearing brat spoke again, interrupting the tensed atmosphere around them:

-“We haven’t tried anything yet, though,” she remarked.

-“But you know just like me that-” tried to interject the other little girl, only to be cut short by her younger friend:

-“No, Hat, actually, we don’t know anything!” she exclaimed, lifting her arms as she kept going, trying to be positive: “I’m sure there is a way to reverse this! We just have to try!”

The hatted-brat winced and glanced elsewhere, not wishing to contradict her friend. But it was easy to see that she didn’t believe her from her expression. As for Snatcher, he didn’t really know what to do or what to think. After what he had heard from the older girl, he was just devastated.

How would he even protect Subcon from Vanessa in his position? He didn’t have any powers to do so! Once his ex found out about what happened… No, he didn’t even want to imagine it. He closed his eyes, not wanting to believe this was happening. But this was all very much real, to his greatest despair.

His minion interrupted his thoughts, tapping on the armrest several times to catch his attention:

-“Uh, Boss?”

-“What?” replied Snatcher, his voice full of exasperation, hiding the misery he was feeling, not wanting to show any more of it.

-“You, uh… I think you should take a look outside,” advised the subconite with a clear anxious tone. This fact immediately worried the shade, who opened his eyes again, turning his head to the side. His eyes widened as soon as he did and, suddenly, all of his muscles grew cold.

A large group of subconites had gathered around the tree, watching them with great confusion. A deafening silence settled between them, as no one knew how to react.

This was a huge catastrophe.

One of the minions made a few steps, tilting his head as they spoke:

-“… Boss?”

Things couldn’t get any worse now, could they?

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Hehehe, I wonder how Snatcher is going to deal with this :)

=> Chapter 04

[theonyxpath]

Hi all! Meghan Fitzgerald here, to give you the rundown on how the Deviant: The Renegades playtest went at Midwinter. Since neither Eric nor Dave could make it, Eric provided me with an excellent playtest to run, in which we were mostly testing out the Variations (powers) and Scars (power drawbacks). I had four players, but two of them couldn’t make it, so our very own Dixie and Neall stepped in to play in their places. Keep in mind the game is not in its final form and I’m not including all the details.

The player characters were:

Sister Laura Clements (Coactive), an elderly nun who hulked out into a giant monster and couldn’t control her murderous urges;

Kenneth Post (Invasive), a cyborg politician with nanites constantly rewiring his brain to make him omnicompetent with a built-in sensor array, who was overwhelmingly paranoid and came across as completely untrustworthy;

Natalie Brown (Mutant), a nurse who lost her family to the conspiracy, who could make copies of herself and short-range teleport but sometimes hallucinated or mentally glitched out;

And Daniel Thompson (Cephalist), a body snatcher and face thief with a genetic disorder that made him sick and constantly exhausted.

Their goal was supposed to be simple: infiltrate a cruise ship, find the man working for the conspiracy that’s after them, and get information out of him that would let them take the conspiracy down.

Getting on board was easy: Kenneth (and his nanites) hacked the ship’s database to reserve cabins for the group and get the layout of the ship, Daniel possessed one of the ticket checkers and then one of the luggage checkers so they could pass unmolested and Natalie could smuggle her gun aboard, and away they went. They disguised themselves to avoid getting recognized as former test subjects. They spent some time eavesdropping subtly and poking around to figure out where the places were onboard that guests weren’t supposed to go, and then went there, either stealthily or pretending to be innocent, confused tourists.

They learned that the man they were looking for — Aleksandr Mogilevich, an internationally wanted white-collar criminal who lived out at sea to avoid arrest — wasn’t on board yet, and that the ship had an off-limits helipad where presumably Aleksandr would arrive once they were far enough from land. They also learned that this ship had much stricter security than a normal cruise ship ought. Since Natalie could teleport through doors and walls as long as her DNA was present on the other side, Daniel possessed one of the guards and took a piece of her hair into the comm tower so she could later get in easily. They tried to investigate the lower decks, too, where a creepy lab held a bunch of prisoners, but that effort was interrupted when…

Having been keeping an eye and ear out for signs of Aleksandr’s arrival, Kenneth heard the helicopter touch down from belowdecks and, resolving the Spooked Condition (which he got from using a Deviant-specific Merit) and giving in to paranoia, ran off to try to handle it alone in the middle of the night. This was where things started to go…downhill. (In the best way!)

The rest of the cohort realized soon enough what he was doing and went after him, but in the meantime he chose to dramatically fail a failed roll that led to him shooting himself in the foot and getting himself knocked out by guards. Everyone else arrived just in time to see a guard dragging him into a stairwell…and Sister Clements hulked out, flew into a murderous rage, and killed all the guards in a messy few seconds of pure carnage. (She was Size 10 at the time. The corridor got awfully cramped.)

They used a dead guard’s corpse and keycard to bypass all the security leading into Aleksandr’s private quarters, including fingerprint scanners and retina scanners, the works. They only had a minute or two before backup would arrive, since monitored security cameras were everywhere and they hadn’t dealt with those yet. They used that time to investigate, looking for dirt on the conspiracy. They found that! They also found out that a Russian submarine working for the conspiracy was following the ship, ready to torpedo it into oblivion should it become compromised. Yes, with a couple thousand clueless civilian guests on board. And maybe Aleksandr, too.

The cohort intercepted a communication from the people on the submarine, who had received word that Renegades were on board and making a mess of things. The players chose to dramatically fail an attempt to convince the Russians they were guards and the disturbance had been taken care of. So, while the Russians did believe them…the response was “Oh…but we already fired the torpedo.” A second later, the ship rocked with the impact.

The cohort rushed up to the helipad, where Aleksandr was getting ready to take off again and a swarm of guards protected him. Natalie created a slew of copies of herself to dash out into the fray and cause a distracting chaos, while Daniel possessed Aleksandr, and Sister Clements carted both his insensate body and Kenneth’s unconscious one through the battle as she sliced her way through guards. Natalie teleported into the helicopter, and managed to avoid getting shot by the pilot! …but her mental glitching meant she couldn’t spend a Willpower to enhance her Firearms roll. She failed it and chose to make it dramatic, which meant she shot the control panel instead and the helicopter went haywire — no longer an escape option. During all this, the Russians fired a couple more torpedoes.

Daniel, as Aleksandr, ordered all the guards to stand down and mercifully succeeded on his roll. In the meantime, Natalie teleported off to ready a lifeboat for the cohort, while the penultimate torpedo tore into the ship, the helicopter tumbled into the sea, and the civilians poured onto the upper deck to get into lifeboats of their own in a panic. Natalie managed to stave off tourists trying to get into the cohort’s lifeboat by making a bunch of copies of herself and populating the entire boat with them. “Sorry, it’s full!”

Sister Clements barreled through the crowd, leapt into the lifeboat followed by “Aleksandr,” and then transformed back into a naked old woman. (They gave her Aleksandr’s suit to wear, once Daniel got back to his own body.) Natalie performed some first aid for Kenneth and woke him up, and then they tied Aleksandr up and started the interrogation. They promised not to kill him if he ratted out the conspiracy and told them everything they wanted to know, so he did.

Then they dumped him into the ocean and let him drown, lifeboating off into the sunset to take down a conspiracy, while in the background the final torpedo demolished the cruise ship, sinking it with almost 2,000 souls aboard.

We had a ton of fun and the feedback was highly positive! Everyone loved how varied and powerful the Variations were, and felt like they always had lots of interesting options, while their Scars were always there to threaten their subtlety, safety, or sanity. (Or everyone else’s.) They definitely felt the sense ofisolation and uphill struggle that lies at the heart of Deviant, and were legitimately invested in destroying the conspiracy that had in turn destroyed their characters’ lives.

Many thanks to those of you who played!

A note from Dixie:

Hi all! I just wanted to add that this playtest was so much fun, and really gave me context for Deviant I was lacking previously (how the different types might work together, the scope of their powers, and the common causes uniting them). Meghan is a fantastic Storyteller, so if you ever see her running demos at a convention, you should try one out! Many thanks to Eric for putting the packets together, Dave for all his hard work on the line, Meghan for running the game, and my fellow players for really embodying their characters.

I played Natalie Brown in this game and finding ways to use my clone and teleportation powers was extremely exciting, even if I both ruined a perfectly good helicopter with a dramatic failure and doomed several innocent tourists to death by filling a lifeboat with six of me. Also, I think we cut off a guy’s hand — or was it his head? We definitely talked about doing it (fingerprint and retina scanners, you know).

Hey, it’s all for the cause, right?

Right?