#the 'but she was in death watch!!!' point got beaten into the ground the first week after the trailer released

[awkward-but-nice]

"bo-katan has no right to talk, she was in dea-" yeah, i can't imagine why a former member of death watch, a group that represents her worst actions, her worst regrets, and a part of her life that she wishes she could take back, would have any hard feelings towards a group called "children of the watch" 🤔🤔🤔

[rafesaddiction]

Hole Practice (or: Golf Lessons) – Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: You want to learn how to golf better. Rafe teaches you a different kind of lesson. Rafe's pov

Warnings: mdni! – heavy smut, sorta toxic relationship, possessiveness, jealousy, spanking, rough sex, fingering, anal (first time), oral (rafe receiving), p in v, cream pie, degrading (reader is called whore by rafe), daddy kink, mean!rafe, bratty!reader, dom!rafe

Word count: 4.3k

“Hey, ain't that your girl, Rafe?”

“What?” Rafe put down the bottle of water he was drinking from and looked at Topper, then his gaze wandered to where Topper was pointing at.

“Over there. The one that is holding up everyone at hole 9.”

“Fucking hell,” Rafe grumbled under his breath when he spotted you. Several hundred yards away, there you stood with a golf club in hand, bending down to place the ball on the ground.

“She got a terrible swing but a real nice ass, real nice.” Kelce snickered and Rafe's head spun round, glaring at him.

Kelce defensively lifted his hands and slowly walked backwards. “Hey dude, chill. I'm just saying those shorts suit her nicely, just paying compliments. Respectfully.”

Rafe tossed the water bottle away, clenching his fists, stomping forward, every muscle in his body tensed up. He was frowning as he felt hot rage coursing through his veins. Rafe was about to beat the living shit out of one of his best friends when a sound made him stop and turn your way again. The wind had carried the sound of your laughter over to him. And Rafe watched you giggle and joke around with some guy, your caddie from the looks of it.

Rafe's hands balled into fists as he watched the two of you talk. That guy had put down the golf bag he was carrying for you and stepped closer. Stepped very close. Too close. He stood behind you, directly behind you, with your ass only covered by those ridiculously tiny shorts pressing against his crotch as his arms wrapped around you, his hands on yours, holding the golf club.

Rafe let out an angry scream that wasn't even a real curse and ran over to the golf cart, got in and started driving over the hilly course towards you.

“Yeah, man, take the fucking cart, so we have to walk!” Topper yelled behind Rafe, but Rafe didn't even bother to turn around. “Fucking unbelievable,” were the last words he heard from Topper, and Kelce's snickering in response. Rafe's hands gripped the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles showing white on his right hand, his other hand coverd by his golf glove.

He drove at full speed, which wasn't that fast with this damn golf cart, but at least faster than running. Racing over the greens, he didn't pay attention whether he was interrupting other people's games. His gaze was fixed on you and that fucking caddie that was practically dry humping you on the golf course.

The cart came to a halt close to you, Rafe jumped off, took a club from the bag at the back and stormed towards you and the caddie, raising the club, fuming with rage.

You and the caddie turned, looking at Rafe stunned and shocked. While you opened your mouth to say something to Rafe, the caddie muttered a curse, his eyes widened as he saw Rafe with the golf club swinging at him. The guy quickly pushed you out of the way, so you fell on the ground, landing on the grass, while he ran, ran as fast as he could with a yelling Rafe chasing him. And Rafe would've gotten him, would have beaten him to death, if it wasn't for your whining noises that made him stop and turn, lower his golf club and walk back to you.

Rafe was towering you, casting his long shadow over you, as you were sitting on the ground, rubbing your ass on which you obviously had fallen, looking up at your tall boyfriend with large eyes.

“I'm hurt,” you mouthed and sniffled.

Rafe grunted, reached down and picked you up. With so much vigor that you practically crashed against his chest. Bracing yourself, your hands touched Rafe's heaving chest, felt those tense muscles underneath the fabric of his expensive polo shirt. You looked up at him with big eyes. He clenched his jaws and his large hands gripped your hips as he held you close. He was still fuming with rage.

“What the hell were you doing?”

You lowered your head, then looked up, with just your eyes.

“I was just practicing holes.”

Rafe's eyebrows raised and he almost choked.

“You what?”

Your eyes went to his chest and your finger was idly drawing circles on Rafe's shirt. You shrugged and innocently explained, “I’m taking some practice lessons. I wanted to get better at golf, so that you would take me with you when you and the boys play.”

You stopped your drawings on Rafe's chest and looked up at him with pouty lips.

“Are you mad at me?”

Instead of answering, Rafe growled and frowned.

You smirked at him, you cocky little brat.

“What are you wearing anyway? Every bastard on this course is staring at your ass.”

“Don't you like my golf outfit, Rafey?” You knew he hated it when you called him that and you did it anyway. His jaws clenched.

You wore a collared blue shirt but instead of a matching skirt or proper golf shorts, you wore the tiniest shorts possible, tightly snugging your curves, barely covering your panties.

“This is no proper outfit for golfing. Those shorts scream ‘fuck me'.”

Rafe's right hand slapped hard on your exposed ass cheek, surely leaving his hand print.

You flinched and winced, then pouted, and struggled to free yourself from Rafe’s grip, but he was stronger and pulled you closer and slapped your ass again. His palm tingled, and from the look on your face, your cheek must be burning.

His fingers grabbed your chin to lift your face as he leaned down.

“I’m gonna teach you holes now,” he whispered, darkly, close to your lips.

Your cheeks flushed. He grinned devilishly. With all your bratty behavior and cockiness, Rafe was still able to make you blush. His mouth claimed yours in a hungry kiss, tongue pushing in, he took what was his, as he held your body close.

When he let go, your cheeks were still flushed, your lips swollen and you were slightly out of breath.

“Since you have chased my caddie away, you will have to carry my golf bag,” you announced and turned to look for your ball.

Rafe grumbled but shouldered the damn golf bag and followed you.

“Where's that damn thing anyway?” He asked when he had caught up with you.

“There,” you pointed at the gorse.

Rafe exhaled. “We're not getting it out of there. Just take a new one.”

“No, that would be cheating, I'm gonna get it.”

“Y/n, fucking don't!”

But you ignored his words and stomped onwards, right into the gorse – and with every step you took, your ass was bouncing invitingly.

“Fuck's sake,” Rafe grumbled and followed you.

He found you bent over, legs straight, head down, ass up, hands touching the high grass, looking for your ball.

Rafe's own balls tightened at the sight. That perky ass, those tiny shorts hardly covering anything, that red mark on your bare skin – he had been correct, his hand print was showing.

His growl made you turn your head at him, but not lift your upper body.

“I think I've found it, but it's stuck.”

Rafe grumbled, walked closer. Walking with his dick getting harder was damn uncomfortable.

“Fuck's sake,” he repeated.

“What?” You asked innocently, wriggling your fine ass.

“Enough,” Rafe barked and you flinched at his harsh tone.

Before you could get up, he grabbed you, threw you over his shoulder. You squealed and his hand smacked your ass several times, making you mewl. Rafe carried you out of the gorse, over the greens to the golf cart.

“Ouch,” you mouthed and pulled a face as you were seated on your ass, sore from his spanking.

He got in the cart, sat behind the steering wheel and shot you a sideways glance. His eyes narrowed.

“Stop complaining, that was nothing yet.”

“Where are we going?” You sniffled.

“To the club,” he stated tersely. He knew he wouldn't make it back home to Tanny Hill, with his dick already achingly hard. A room at the club would do, and he knew there would always be one available – the perks of being a premium member.

“But what about my lessons?” You looked at Rafe, sulking.

“Oh, your lessons ain't over yet.”

He could see you nibbling at your bottom lip, something you did when you were nervous or excited or both.

While he was driving across the course, he tried to look where he was going, but you kept on wriggling in your seat, which was fucking irritating.

“Stop that!” He faced you briefly and lifted his hand, a warning gesture.

“Sorry, daddy,” you said sweetly, leaned forward, and your mouth covered Rafe's finger. Sucking on it, you looked at him with large eyes, your lips closed tightly around the digit, your tongue swirling around it.

“Jesusfuckingchrist!” Rafe almost ran over some gaffer – not that he would've cared.

Rafe tried to get back on track while his cock was pulsing. You took his hand, guided it between your legs, rubbing over your thighs as you spread them. His hand touched the fabric of those damn shorts, and Rafe could feel that you were already soaking wet, those layers of clothing couldn't even hide that.

You began moaning as you were rubbing his hand against your core.

He pulled it away, raised it, finger pointing, and glared at you angrily.

“Don't!”

You pouted, crossed your arms in front of your chest and looked away. But Rafe grabbed your jaw forcefully, turning your face to look at him, pressing harder than necessary, which made you wince and gaze at him.

“You don't touch yourself unless I allow you. You know the rules.”

He kept his eyes on you while still driving.

“You hear me?” His voice loud and intimidating.

You cast your eyes down and mumbled, “Yes, daddy.”

His cock twitched in his pants, which were getting too damn tight by now.

When he let go, you added, hardly audible, “But I didn't touch myself, it was your hand…”

You probably thought that he didn't hear that as he didn't react to it right away, but he did hear it, and it drove him fucking insane. And you would experience soon enough how mad he was because of you.

Rafe parked the golf cart close to entrance of the main building, got out, grabbed your arm, so hard he would leave bruises, and dragged you along with him. You could hardly keep up, he was walking so quickly, and with his tall legs, he was able to make longer strides.

At the reception no one questioned why Rafe was holding you in such a tight grip while you were obviously struggling to escape. He asked for the key card to a room and he got it and on top of that, the receptionist wished him a pleasant day. Rafe growled in response.

He shoved you towards the elevator and got inside with you. It cost him a lot not to ravish you the moment the doors closed. The grip around your arm was iron. When the doors opened, he pushed you out, along the corridor to the room. After opening it with the key card, he forcefully pushed you inside. You stumbled and almost fell, but caught yourself on the edge of the king-size bed.

Right after he had let go off you, he started to undress himself, pulled his shirt over his head and kicked off his shoes.

“Take off those goddamn shorts and get on the bed. Now.” His commanding voice left you no choice but to obey. You looked at him, eyes wandering over his naked body as you undressed yourself, taking the shorts together with the panties off last. He frowned at you, but your eyes were on his rock hard cock that he was stroking, while glaring at you.

You climbed onto the bed. Impatiently, he walked over and grabbed you, moved you around as he wanted to have you, flipping you over, then pulling your body up, so you were on all fours now, while he kneeled behind your spread legs.

Rafe leaned over your body, his chest touching your back, his hand grabbed your throat, forcing your head up, a restrained sound coming from your opened mouth.

“You gonna be a good whore, right?” He cooed into your ear.

With his free hand, he guided his hard length between your legs, rubbing it along your dripping wet slit, covering it nicely in your juices. You mewled and started wriggling.

“Please,” you moaned, already so needy.

He turned your face to shut those desperate moans with his greedy kiss, while his cock was replaced by his fingers, which where rubbing along your slit, parting your folds, but never quite entering and never touching your clit. You were so incredibly wet, his fingers were practically dripping as he pulled them away and sat up behind you, letting go off your throat, leaving you with a confused look on your face.

“I still need to teach you a lesson.”

You opened your mouth, trying to say something, but Rafe continued, a sardonic grin on his face.

“The lesson is: If you wear such tiny shorts, hardly covering your ass, but showing it off, inviting everyone to fuck it, you get fucked up the ass, like the whore you are.”

“But –” you started to complain, but a slap of his hand on your ass made you cry out instead.

Despite it being such a fine piece of flesh, Rafe had never fucked your ass before, only put a finger or two inside your tight hole once or twice. You didn't have proper training yet, but you needed to learn that your teasing had consequences.

He spat on his already wet fingers and stroked between your ass cheeks. You whined, but he knew that it was a sound you made when you were impatient. You wouldn't have to wait long – though it wasn't what you actually waited for, he knew that. Rafe gripped you by the hip, as his fingers pushed against your back entrance. Your muscle was tense and instead of opening up for him, it closed. Rafe growled and he felt your body shudder. His grip got firmer, preventing you from retreating as his index finger pushed inside, stretching your tight ring.

“It hurts, daddy,” you whined and craned your neck to look back at Rafe.

He slowly moved his finger back and forth inside you. Your breathing hitched as he curled that finger in your tight hole. Your muscle was clenching so hard around his digit, it almost made it impossible to move it.

He let go off your hip to hit your ass cheek.

“Relax! Or it'll just hurt more.”

Your answer was a whining sound and you let your head hang between your shoulders.

Rafe pushed your legs further apart to get better access, pressed on your lower back and you obeyed by arching your back nicely. He grinned at the sight. You were completely exposed to him and at his mercy.

He pulled his finger out, only to push back in two fingers, thrusting deep and hard.

You let out a scream and started begging.

“Daddy, daddy, please,” you whined.

His fingers fucking your ass, he let his hard cock teasingly brush along your pussy, never applying too much pressure, just enough to tease you. When he pulled back, his cock was covered in your wetness.

“So wet for me. Such a needy whore you are.”

His fingers left your hole, the tight muscle pulsing invitingly. He rubbed some more spit on it and felt you shiver under his touch.

He took his cock in his hand, guiding it, stroking your round ass cheeks with it, before pressing the wet tip against your throbbing little hole.

“You gonna take it like the good whore you are, hm? Your my little whore, right?”

You mewled and panted.

He waited.

“Daddy, daddy,” you whined.

Then he heard you inhale and exhale deeply, pushing your ass up, that little hole twitched and opened up, inviting him in, and he pushed in.

You cried out as his cock's thick head stretched your tender muscle. He needed both his hands now to grip your hip, fingers digging into your flesh, holding you in place, as he greedily watched his thick cock slowly pushing into your fine ass.

Your screaming turned into an irregular whimpering as the thick head was practically sucked into your ass.

“So, good,” Rafe praised you, his own breathing heavy. “You're doing so good, baby, taking me so good. Such a good whore.”

His thumb caressed your hip, he felt you relax just the tiniest bit. He tensed up, tightened his grip again and thrust his hip forward, making your body almost jump forward by the force, if he hadn't held you that firmly.

He growled as your walls clenched around his cock, but he pushed deeper. Pulling back, he gasped as your sensitive muscle was clamping so hard around his thick cock.

“So good, baby,” he said under heavy breathing.

He pushed in, watching with greedy fascination how his too big cock vanished inch by inch into your perfect ass, stretching your too tight hole mercilessly.

“Daddy! I can't!” You cried out, sobbing now.

“You can and you will.”

He began moving in a steady rhythm, fucking your tight ass good and hard. He didn't push too hard though, knowing well what you could take. You were sobbing and crying and whining, but he didn't stop, he knew your body better than you did, and he knew that you could do this. Your little protests, your screams and moans and whimpers made him only go harder.

He couldn't get it all in though, you were too tight and not trained, and he was too big. Part of him got angry about that, but you felt so damn good, he could use you so damn well that it seemed enough.

Then he saw your hand move between your legs, you were desperately trying to touch yourself. But Rafe didn't let you.

He angrily growled, slapped your ass hard, making you flinch. Then he grabbed your hand by the wrist, twisting your arm behind your back and holding it there.

You cried out in pain.

“I told you not to do that!” He growled between clenched teeth. You were driving him mad, so fucking mad.

Your body shook and trembled under his hard thrusts as he took what was his, took you without mercy. Pounding you harder, his growing anger made him lose all restraint.

You were so tight, the friction was so intense, the sounds you made were so hot, Rafe felt his climax approaching and he didn't hold back. He felt his every muscle tense up, then let go, gasping for air, as he reached his orgasm, shooting his cum into you. His whole body electrified and in that post orgasmic bliss, he pushed again into your well-used hole, once, twice, driving his load deeper into you, before pulling out. When he let go off you, you just face down collapsed onto the bed, breathing hard, a fucking mess. He grinned at the sight of you.

“My whore,” he whispered into your ear, leaning down, kissing your damp hair, before he got up. His own breathing slowing down eventually.

Watching you lie there, and wriggle and pant, he knew you hadn't reached your climax yet.

“Don't you dare move”, his voice a dark command.

He waited for a moment. And this time it seemed you were actually listening, probably fearing the consequences. Had you learned your lesson after all? He doubted that, you were such a brat and would always be. Since you didn't move, just lay there panting, Rafe went into the adjoining bathroom to clean himself.

When he came back, you were lying in the same position on the bed, on your stomach, arms away from your body, legs apart, your body raising and falling from your exhausted breathing, cum dripping out of your hole between your reddened cheeks. Rafe grinned at the sight of the mess he had turned you into.

He sat down on the bed, still naked, back resting against the headboard, his legs on the bed, he was sitting next to you, not touching you, but you could definitely feel the bed tilt from his weight, feel his proximity, as he felt the heat radiating from your body.

You lifted your head, turned your face to gaze at him with teary eyes.

“You're such a mess,” he grinned at you, his hand caressing your face.

“Did you cum?” He asked, but already knew the answer.

You shook your head.

“You wanna cum?”

You nodded eagerly.

“Then you know what to do,” he simply said.

You got up on your knees next to him, sat down on your heels, flinching as they poked into your sore ass cheeks.

“Please daddy can I cum?” You looked at him with pleading eyes.

“And how do you wanna cum?” It wasn't a real question, more of a test.

Still, you seemed to contemplate the answer, biting your bottom lip. Your gaze turned to his cock, though not hard, still impressive. Then your eyes moved to his hands. Those hands that knew how to hold you, to touch you. Then your look was on his face. Yours was a beautiful mess. Your lips swollen, your cheeks flushed, your eyes teary and bloodshot, tears and sweat had ruined your makeup and smeared mascara all over your face. God, you were so beautiful.

“With your cock inside me.”

The way you said those words, with such sincerity and almost solemn honesty, it made his cock twitch in response.

But words weren't enough.

“Then work for it.”

In an inviting, almost generous gesture, he pointed at his crotch.

You very willingly accepted the invitation, moved closer, bent over, and Rafe hissed as your greedy little mouth took in his thick cock, sucking hard at it, tongue swirling along the tip. One hand clasping the thick shaft, you steadied yourself with the other hand on his thigh. You gazed sideways up at him, when you began bobbing your head.

Rafe's breathing quickened, as he felt his cock growing in your mouth. His hands clutched the expensive bedsheets, stopping himself from forcing your head down further. You were already gagging on his length, not nearly half of it in your mouth.

Your efforts did some good, but he wasn't ready yet.

He grabbed you by the hair to pull you up, made you whimper, spit dripping from your swollen lips, as you were gazing at him.

“Ride it.”

His command made you freeze and visibly shudder, but you hurried to follow his order. As he let go off your hair, you straddled him, mewling when his thick length pressed against your sensitive core, too long neglected, it seemed.

He gripped your jaws hard, made you focus on him. His piercing eyes glaring at you.

“Don't you dare cum before I’m inside of you. Understood?”

You tried to nod, which was hard with his tight grip at your jaws, but your pleading eyes told him, you had understood him.

“Good.” He leaned forward to kiss you hard, before letting go and leaning back in the pillows.

Your hands ran over his muscular torso. You bit your lips, looking at his hard abs, as you began rocking your hips against him, your tits bouncing nicely. He grabbed them, kneaded them with both his hands, felt how you flinched and tensed up, as you felt his greedy hunger. His cock pulsing under you.

You closed your eyes, as if you would focus on the slick sounds your pussy made when slapping against his hard dick.

“Turn around.” Rafe's voice made your eyes flutter open. “Let me see that ass that you want the whole golf club to fuck. Let me see that ass that only belongs to me.”

Rafe added an encouraging slap on your ass to stress his command. He even helped you to turn, sit down, astride with your back to him, while you did nothing more than make those small needy sounds that drove him insane with lust.

His hand pushed on your upper back, making you bent down a bit, holding onto his legs.

He had the perfect view of your ass and pussy. His cum dripping from your ass mixing with your own wetness dripping from your pussy.

Two fingers dipped into your cunt, making you squirm and mewl and beg.

“Daddy…”

You clenched around his digits and he slapped your ass.

Pulling out his fingers, he lifted you up, pushed you into position, guiding his now rock hard cock to your pussy and pushed in. Rafe grabbed your hair to get you into an upright position again. His hands on your hips, guiding your movements as his hips rocked hard against yours, pushing his whole length into you as you sank down onto him.

“Rafe, Daddy, fuck,” you stammered, your whole body shuddered and you were completely undone, cumming all over his cock just from his first thrust into you.

And he fucked you through your high, not stopping when you were all spent. Using you over and over again.

You were such a good whore for him. And all your holes were his.

a/n: writing this was a lot of fun. i don't know shit about golf. thanks for reading. i hope you enjoyed it. reblogs and comments are very much appreciated, and likes too! i've only been doing this for 2 weeks now and i'm kinda overwhelmed that my first x reader smut fic got over 1k notes! thank you all so much! i got ideas for many more fics. let me know what you'd like to read! p.s. happy kinktober!

[dick-meister]

The absolute deconstruction of Adam’s mental in UC verse has me feeling a bunch of ways.

Like, he started out hopeful, trying his hardest to work things out with Lucifer and Lilith and actually did! They were having a good bit of fun and at one point Lucifer started to catch the tiniest bit of feelings for Adam. He talked to Roo for the first time in a long time to which he made amends for things between them as well.

Feeling good and having trust in them, Adam was fully prepared to go and talk to Sera and get an audience for all of them to talk about G’s plans but funnily enough, Adam’s own superior wouldn’t hear him out and locked him away for an amount of time he wasn’t even sure of. There he was bombarded by memories of himself and of Eve that tortured him pretty much.

At the time, he was feeling like the people of Hell were a lot better than those in Heaven only on the sheer fact that they listened to him and would listen to him. However after being broken out of the white room, everything changed dramatically. Lilith approaching Adam and trying to get him angry just so he could kill her in said anger, while around Lucifer, messed him up on the inside. He knew she was right on some levels but how it was done was just… wrong and left him literally beaten and half dead. Where else was he supposed to go after that but home?

Home, where he was now a fugitive if spotted by anyone who worked for the council as Sera had never allowed him to leave the White Room and if found, he would have been sentenced to fall. Only to just… lie on the ground for a day, bleeding and being alone up until Charlie was ported to him by G himself as a test to see if Charlie would finish him off right then and there. The sad thing is, looking back on it now, Adam would have preferred her to do so.

There was a bit of regained hope for him at that time, talking to Charlie and taking care of her made him feel a little better in a way that he wasn’t so alone. But there was a growing feeling of abandonment that was quickly getting bigger and bigger.

Eventually, Charlie leaves back to Hell, Lute tells him of Sera wanting to summon him after an accidental slip of the tongue and they ditch to Hell together. At least at the Hotel he got some time to rest, however that wouldn’t take long to be disrupted, learning of Charlie’s death, then having to fight Charbringer and eventually give up fighting her knowing that it was wrong to do so and he died.

Adam still remembers feeling the pain of death, being dead and his soul slipping away. Even though, somehow it was reverted and Lute took his place in his stead to which he had to watch Lute die, and then watch Charlie die in his arms…

After that, he buried Lute and just gave up. Adam went home and felt nothing. He’s lost so much and when looking around himself for who he had, who was he supposed to go to for help? He didn’t view himself as anything but a joke to everyone, someone to pin blame to, someone to leave in the background. Of course Angela tried to console him, but he wanted people who knew him to help him, love him, because those who don’t know him say the wrong things, make assumptions and cause him to feel even more lonely and wrong.

His mentality at this point was so shattered that when Eve, who is absolutely alive, showed up. He thought she was just a figment of his imagination, more White Room BS who helped a little but once he left to see Emily and found out that Sera had passed in battle, he found that he really couldn’t feel anything towards it. He felt bad for Emily, but the feelings of it was all light and on the surface.

Once he got home, that’s when he made the decision, if he was doomed to be nothing more than a after thought then he would just go back to being the villain he once pushed himself past. It’s the only way he knew how to cope and it’s not like anyone was coming around to help him anyways, it was either the mask or lay on the floor until the Cycle ended and he couldn’t sit back and do that.

He’s come full circle, and that’s really sad but also an incredibly interesting character ‘development’ that’s happened over time. I thought Adam would end up being a hero through this story, showing off bravery, selflessness and care but… this has all gone so against him that he just can’t feel those things anymore or much of anything.

UC is…. Not great for Adam lol

[mari-lair]

For @kittytheartist-rambles

(Kannagi AU: Part 1 . Part 2 . Part 3)  

Akane desperately tried to hold on for any hope that Aoi can still be saved but Teru destroyed any solution he come up with, holding him down when the constant denial makes him hysterical and repeating the message until Akane finally accepted that the pit Aoi was thrown on is the point of no return.

Akane shut down, not drinking the water Teru had given him or moving from his seat on the cave ground. Is like he is a shell of himself.

Teru asks how many times he used the cursed clock and it takes some insistence for Akane to pay enough attention to process his question and admit that he used 15 minutes with Teru and 17 with various monsters on their failed escape, losing 32 years of his life. It’s a marvel such a reckless boy would get so much to live in such a dangerous world, though Teru supposes Aoi’s sacrifice brought safety for everyone, which made Akane's previously long lifespan possible.

Akane feels more grounded after a while and asks why did Teru told the village he was dead? Why couldn’t he lie to save Aoi too? Why only save him? Teru gives him a logical answer, about how her death means years of safety while Akane’s is unnecessary. It feels cold, borderline cruel, compared to Akane’s raw pain so he grows agitated, demanding to know why Teru let him talk with Aoi when it went against the village orders, why Teru played the part of Aoi’s friend if he was going to kill her.

That crack some of Teru’s control, and he baits Akane into a fight, it became a fistfight. Akane hoped doing something would help but he still doesn’t feel better when he lands a punch on Teru, or when he is beaten. What is the point in anything? It won’t bring Aoi back.

Teru notice he isn’t nearly as much of a challenge as usual, and kicks him when he falls, expecting Akane to yell for a rematch but the boy doesn't move from the ground, admitting he has no motivation to fight when he knows Aoi isn't here to bandage him. Teru gets angry at him for giving up, because fighting does help him feel less overwhelmed and Akane was taking that from him, but he ends up falling in silence with Akane again. 

They stay alone with their thoughts for a while, and it starts to rain, the heavy rain grow into a storm, and while Teru isn't affected by it, he doesn't trust Akane to take care of himself. Terus no longer needs armor in a world with no supernaturals but he compensates for the loss in weight with many kimono layers (it makes him feel safer),  able to spare the outer layer of his clothes to Akane, wrapping it around his shoulder.

Akane is tempted to throw his stupid kimono into the rain, wary of any show of kindness, but shut up when Teru shares the promise he made with Aoi, of looking after him. Teru notices how it get his full attention and tries to use Aoi to make Akane get his shit together, claiming she would want her best friend to live life to the fullest, at least try to find happiness, not waste away. Akane disagrees, claiming Aoi is the type of girl to say “I wish you find happiness.” when she is at her most depressed and spiteful, tired of watching others be happy without her. Teru thinks about the way she tried to drag him with her to the pit of death, how she wasn’t crying when she did it, and feeling unsure if her cold look was because of the drug or because Aoi genuinely wanted him dead after ruining their escape.

Teru never saw her cry for him, but she got misty-eyed when he first beat up Akane, fearing he would die, and when she was dragged out of the cave. Worried for Teru at times, but only in tears for Akane. He feels bitter about it so he tries to hide it by teasing Akane for it, surprised to learn Akane had never seen Aoi cry before their failed escape, not even when the village threw rocks at her.

For a full week, that's how any interaction went, leading to silence or to talking about Aoi. Failing to comunicate what they want or not sure what to do when they catch how the other is feeling.

Teru spend most of his time with his siblings, pushing his grief down, but whenever he reached Akane’s cave with food or blankets, he is always there.  Something about Akane still felt strange, not as full of fire and determination as usual, but at least, he started to be more active, telling Teru he discovered a river he can get water while he was with his family instead of wasting away in the cave, and asking for Teru’s help learning what plants are edible and how to hunt certain fishes, always indulging in spars, slowly starting to fight like usual.

“If you move to the next city, i’ll make sure to visit you, you don’t need to stay in this cave” and Akane nods but he still doesn’t leave the cave.

Teru has been good at bottling up his emotions, at dealing with loss, but he was eventually forced to attend to a big party to celebrate Aoi’s death and was forced to use all his self-control to remain silent at everyone’s comments about Aoi, and occasionally even Akane.  He had arrived a bit late to his meeting with Akane, and his moves are too reckless when they spar that day,  hurting his palm by something stupid. Akane notices something is off, forcing him to sit down, and cleaning his injury. It leaves Teru feeling too much and he hit his breaking point, hiding his tears with his arms. It startled Akane, having been convinced exorcists can't cry. It’s awkward as hell, but Akane hug him, softening when Teru eventually clings to it, not nearly as gentĺe as Aoi, frankly, the way Teru claw his back hurt, but Akane understands.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Chapter 4 - Magic Flower

The little, ugly devil remembers the day when he defended his benefactor and he ended up in jail, beaten and abused as he got interrogated, only to be rescued by some man calling himself a warlock. He was brought to this magic school to learn how to control his powers, and he smiled, thinking of his beloved angel. Was he making progress, catching up to her wonderous presence? Will he be able to impress her with his powers, the same as she always did for him? Oh, how he misses her so dearly.

To this day, he recalls the assessment test he took, to be assigned a level of competence, after a single month of studying. First, was Scrying, the ability of seeing things in a reflective surface - Messages, visions, prophecies. He was told to divine where a book was hidden, but he could see even the title and its author, and even the edition! He looked deep into the mirror, and his hand reached inside it, going as far as to fetch the book itself. All but one of the teachers was impressed. Next was Salire per spatium, or teleportation, and he remembered his sweet angel playing tag with him and appearing and disappearing here and there at will, her lovely giggles echoing from every corners and behind every tree. The teacher, as 'motivation', threw a book and a knife at him - And he simply played around, teleporting casually on the ceiling, where he called out to them.

The last test was Stricidium - He had to make it snow inside the room by turning the water molecules in the environment, frozen.  He made it snow to gently, like pure and beautiful Spring snow where the lambs play - He remembered his dear fairy, making flower petals fall around him and dance in the breeze, all to make him happy. But he was different. He turned the snow into a blizzard, and the warmth of the room turned into the freezing Siberian cold, to the point that the teachers couldn't breath. He had no idea how strong his powers were, and they took over, to the point of getting a nosebleed.

He was the most powerful warlock that ever lived. When the Witch council came over, as the warlocks wanted him to become their Alpha, he was denied - But he perfectly sketched the name of the hotel where the Supreme's greatest failure took place. The Voodoo witch, Queenie, who was trapped with James Patrick March in Hotel Cortez, was now able to freely walk the earth once more, to her leisure. He did the impossible, and he was going to do it again, twice more. 

First, he was going to save Madison Montgomery from hell - Her hell, being a retail employer for eternity, what a shame. He didn't care for her, but he had to prove his worth to the Supreme Witch Bitch who dared deny him even a chance. She flirted so shamelessly with him that he almost felt like puking - She even dared touch him. He should have skinned her alive. Only his Princess was allowed to touch him. 

Last, but not least, he entered the personal hell of his most beloved angel, his sweet, sweet girl, trapped in a shed and forced to watch animals being tortured to death, times and times again, on repeat, over and over - Their squeals and shrieks and cries will forever be embedded into her brain, forever to torment her every moment awake or sleeping. His heart broke, watching her groveling to the ground, screaming loud, and raw, hoping that her own sounds would drown out the torturous wails of the poor souls.

With a flick of his hand, the sounds stopped, save for the sobs coming from the girl. He stepped in front of her and knelt to the ground, though he was afraid of touching her. "My sweet angel, your torment is over. You are free to leave this awful place." she seemed to not have heard him. "My love. My love, look at me. I'm here. Your darling devil is here to rescue you." he placed his hand on top of her head - Her hair was as velvety soft as always, he noticed. "Look at me, honey." his other hand reached through the scarlet curtain to touch her face, tilting her head upwards to see him. "It is me. Can you see me? " "... You're not real." her voice was broken and he needed to strain his ears to hear her. "You can't be. He can't be in this awful place, he should be happy at home, away from this God Forsaken place!" she stumbled pitifully over her words. "It is my, my darling. I'm here to get you out of here." once the girl peered into his eyes, he realised that she knew it was him. She knew.  "D-Devil...?" she was breathless, she felt like death was finally taking over her, claiming her forever. "No way..." she tackled him to the ground, crying in his chest so desperately, yet so relieved and happy. "I missed you so much, my sweet devil! I can't believe I have the luck of seeing you one more time before death claims my very soul." "I wouldn't let death claim you, my love. We're leaving." and instead of being trapped by that bloody shed anymore, they were sitting on soft green grass, surrounded by a myriad of flowers of every flower and kind. Her eyes went wide with wonder, and she looked around, like a blind woman gaining her sight for the first time in the world. She rolled to the ground, feeling the blades, before turning on her back and watching the cloudless sky. She was laughing and crying, like a mad woman runaway from the mental hospital. "The sky - It is the same colour of yours eyes." she said, creating even more flowers all around the whole field. "I never thought I would see you again." after she's regained a little of her strength, she dragged herself back to him and pulled him into a deep kiss, grabbing his hands and squeezing them so tightly. "You're my saviour. My guardian. My King." she made a beautiful flower crown made of glowing baby blue flowers, and she put it on his head. "I owe you my life, sweet Devil." "You owe me nothing, my beloved angel. There is no life without you in it. I will protect you even when the end of the world comes and takes us all." he caressed her face dearly, looking into her eyes as though she was the whole universe - And she was. With the way she was embracing and leaning her weight over him, he found himself toppled to the ground, with her over him. The beautiful ribbons of scarlet locks were hanging over him, tickling at his face and making him giggle like a little  boy kissed by his crush. Even so, he couldn't ignore the sudden and unfamiliar heat that engulfed his body from the proximity he felt with her, her bosom glued to his own chest, her thigh perfectly placed over his nether regions, as though she knew how she was teasing him, and her delicate hands placed over his own, fingers intertwined. He could feel his cheeks redden, and his lungs were suffocated. He had no clue what this foreign emotion was, but he loved the feeling of it. He wanted more. He wanted to explore more and find more. With her in his arms, and a bed of flowers, none more beautiful than her

He remembers now too, the beautiful black dress that she wore when he confronted Cordelia, along with the other two that he saved - She looked absolutely stunning, with the way the dress hugged her silhouette and all the gracious curves of her body - Though, to this day, he still believes that white suits her best, a pure and innocent power, for an angel such as her, but witches want their own to wear only black, though they claim to draw their powers from the light. No matter, he can see her wearing any colour of the rainbow, on any other day, and when he becomes the next Supreme, the Alpha, he will do as he pleases without anyone hindering him.

When the two other witches went to embrace their Supreme, he didn't let go of his own angel. He didn't care whether the warlock teachers thought of him fraternising with the enemy witch-kind. Why should he care, when he was above all, not only in magical skill and talent, but everything else too. And thus, he was acknowledged by the Supreme Bitch, and on the night of the Blood Moon, he was to take the Seven Wonders test. No man has ever taken such a test, and should he succeed, he shall become the next Supreme, and in turn, radically change the course of the world and its flow.

The warlocks were incapable and weak, they were pathetic. To think mankind would relay on him, for they were too stupid to do anything for themselves. Still, he couldn't deny, not all witches were all that great either - His angel told him of the new comer, and her special power. She was a gluten and calorie detector - How could that even be considered a power? How pathetic - Was the Coven so desperate, that they would accept anything? Ridiculous.

His congratulation ceremony was so amusing, even more so when he gave off a little scare to that one teacher who so rightfully suspected him of being the man of Cordelia's prophecy, the white-faced demon. How hilarious, he thought, though he was mildly impressed that he was suspected to begin with. No matter, his dear Miss Mead was all but ready to get rid of any kind of evidence. That night, he snuck out of the school to embrace his benefactor - More, she was able to convince one of the teachers to aid his cause, though he was unaware of his... Lineage. It was pathetic, to think all his ambitions revolved around his wish to step out of a woman's shadow. He was a pathetic weakling who needed to cling onto another with a higher power to be brought up - But the Devil couldn't care less about this battle of sexes, it mattered little to him. It was a woman who took care of him and protected him for so long, and it was a woman, an angel, a witch no less, who loved him genuinely, so selflessly, and did everything in her power to make him happy. How could he wish the demise and oppression of all women, when it was women who saved and cared for him?

No. The Devil didn't care for such superficial, petty ambitions, borne of inferiority, weakness, jealousy and lack of any kind of self-esteem. He was going to bring forth the end of the world, and he didn't differentiate between woman or man, elderly or youth - He was going to bring the demise of humankind.

Guided by ancient tradition, witches survive only if united under a strong, singular authority. Every generation needs its leader, The Supreme. No simple test could EVER determine the sovereign among us, thus, we rely upon seven. The 'Seven Wonders' - Seven acts of magic, so advanced, each pushes the boundaries of craft into art. 

The little Devil was brought to a barn - The first Wonder he performed, with ease and lightness, was Telekinesis - And he called into his hand, a riding crop. The three warlocks loudly cheered and applauded for him, whilst the four witches looked desolated by his success. The sweet Angel was looking at him with pride and tenderness. Control of the mind, also known as Concilium, made his sweet Angel dance for him, a pretty dance, with the long skirt flowing around her ankles and shins so gracefully - She was truly a work of art, and though he smiled sweetly at her, he wished he could dance with her now. Next came Transmutation, and the little Devil was hidden behind a long stack of hay, stifling a boyish giggle, looking at his amused Angel. Once he felt a tap on his shoulder, he teleported behind one of the witches, and tapped her back. The Supreme looked at her right hand, and already fear tainted her heart. Divination was performed so facile, as the witches hid a pendant. The eldest witch threw some stones to the ground, and the Devil crouched down to look upon them. He smiled, and got up, quickly burying his hand inside a hay stack and walking behind his sweet Angel. With his hand extended in front of her face, he released the pendant, dangling by the chain, and he put it around her neck. She giggled at him so cutely, that he couldn't help himself and kissed her cheek. Pyrokinesis was, by far, his favourite wonder to perform, for he loved both fire and blood, though his darling Angel never could stand seeing him cut his palm and draw his own blood. It took a single drop of his magical blood to make the candle fire into a complete hazard. The Angel rushed to grab at his hand, and kissed his wound, healing it as if it never was.

Vitalum Vitalis, the balancing of scales between one life force and another - That one, he knew best, was his Angel's favourite test, for in his palm he cradled a small dead mouse, only for it later so step around his hands, curious and wishing to explore. Whilst the Supreme and her right hand shared concerned looks, the ugly Devil and the beautiful Angel played around with the adorable little critter that nuzzled into her cheeks, as though it was kissing her.

And thus, they arrived at the final test, a perilous descent into the nether worlds of after life, Descensum, the most dreadful of the wonders, and the one that brought the greatest torment imaginable to his beloved Angel. He already went twice in hell to rescue the two witches, what was another more? After all, it was a trip home, nothing that could bother him. He felt best. Though he wasn't asked to perform, but to outright conquer it. To retrieve the Supreme's dear friend, Misty Day, the same he did with her other two students.  Funny enough, one of the warlocks protested, saying those who failed Descensum were gone forever, property of the underworld - But were the witch and angel returned not proof enough of his ability to conquer everything that stood in his way to glory? Whilst the Supreme and the Grand Chancellor of the Warlocks were arguing, the Devil went to stop this silly charade. He laid his head down on his beautiful Angel's lap, who looked down at him with such worry that she was battling tears falling in cascades. He smiled at her, reassuringly, and held her hand, as he recited the incantation.

Deduce me in tenebris vita ad extremum, ut salutaret inferi. Deduce me in tenebris vita ad extremum, ut salutaret inferi. Descensum.

He felt himself descending into the ground, dematerialising, shadows and dark smoke engulfing his very being and his vision - His gaze, glued to the gorgeous, sparkling emeralds of her eyes, until he allowed himself to lose himself in the hazy feeling of vertigo. He found himself walking casually down the black corridors of hell, the heels of his shoes clicking with every step, until he found the exact door of Misty Day's torment. It was a biology laboratory, filled with live frogs, ready to be dissected. The teacher was forcing her hand to scalpel the live frog brutally, only for her to bring it back to life, and the cycle repeats endlessly. Her shrieks of agony went on and on, reminding the Devil of his sweet Angel and her own anguish. 

The Devil made Misty Day watch as he dissected the teacher, the same as he did with the frog, eviscerating him. He took a deep breath as he was brought back to reality, and he felt strong, slender arms brought him into a tight embrace, and he felt a myriad of kisses and sweet words whispered into his ear, as the other witches and warlocks gathered around them. Everyone thought that he had been defeated, that hell was able to reject its conquest - Only for a grey smoke to materialise in the shape of a woman, and Misty Day breathed into the human world once more. The Supreme fell to her knees, her hands on the witch's face, calling out her name again and again, whilst the Angel helped the Devil stand up to his feet, though she looked territorial, holding him in her arms, not allowing the warlocks to step in between them, nor tear them apart. He loved how clingy she was.

He felt weak, and he leaned his weight on her, but she didn't mind. She watched as the Supreme cradled her friend's face and cried. It almost reminded him of his sweet reunion with his beloved Angel. She was in complete disbelief that she was able to escape that awful suffering. Back from perdition, she was truly back, and safe.

With the Supreme bleeding from her nose, and a short amount of quarreling, she declared the Devil as the Supreme Leader, before falling faint. He grinned, smug, victorious, as his Angel threw her arms around his neck and brought him into a passionate kiss. She didn't care about the witches or warlocks, nor of anything else - She only cared about him and her own self, and their own happiness.

But Cordelia knew there was something dark and dangerous about him, and Misty Day sniffed the perfume of death - He brought all the witches back to her, and her army was armed and ready to fight him. Misty was too weak to fight however, and she was told to rest and heal - And as a reward for surviving and living, Cordelia brought Stevie Nicks, her favourite person alive, to sing for her - The great witch herself, as one of the warlocks played the piano to accompany her. The Devil and the Angel looked down, from the balcony, and they danced together to the melody sung. Though her voice was nowhere as lovely as the Angel's, it was fine enough to swing together, and sway, their hearts beating together as one, their souls bound to one another.

That was not the beginning of their story however, and Katrina knew it. She asked him to remind her of the time spent together as children, before she was sent away to become a proper witch. Back then, when fate brought them together, when the Angel and the Devil first embraced one another, and Hell and Heaven became one single realm.

Born in the Murder House, to dead father and a mother destined to die in childbirth - A family dead before he was born into a House of a thousand corpses and spirits, a jail for the dead and the tormented souls that shalt never escape - He was a child unwanted, born out of wedlock, to a mother unwilling and a father unknown to her, wearing a leather suit that veiled him whole. It was the dead nurses and doctors that helped with the delivery, and it was then that the mother's husband had to see her fade away into nothingness.

When his mother died, pushing him out into the world, another, a foster mother, gladly assumed the burden of raising him - Her, a childless mother, for she had to bury all of her own, four times over. Why would she assume such a burden? Perhaps because she felt responsibility over the orphan child who also happened to be her own grandson. There were plenty of mistakes, raising her son Tate, the handsome young man who thought it appropriate to spread his seed and impregnate his lover's own mother, though Constance now knew better, and the little Devil was going to be her sweet, sweet bundle of love. He was going to be different.

Michael Langdon was such a perfect little angel of light. She thought that he would be her own chance at redemption, to prove that she was worthy of her title of mother. She was born to be a mother, and to raise a great young man was the most admirable and selfless act a woman could aspire to. He was her destiny, her beautiful child, with such a cheerful disposition... Even when he was committing unspeakable acts... Trivial at first, of course, some dead flies in the crib with their wings shorn off, and small rodents as he got older. Just like Bundy and Dahmer, and many others who started with small animals, only to graduate, and their perversions escalate to grander things. If only his darling Angel had known him during his infancy days, she would be terrified of him and his cruelty towards inoffensive animals - But that was only as a child, of course, it wasn't as though he was doing it on purpose! He'd much rather dismember humans, than bring harm to those sweet animals that his beloved is so fond of.

He called them a present for his mother, the same way a cat gifts its dead prey to their owner, and O, his love did flow, and enjoyable as it was to have a child so committed to expressing his love for his mother... She did try to encourage him to find another avenue of expression... Still, nothing she said was capable of making him cease his deranged acts. Each time, she would dutifully bury one of those gifts, along with a little piece of her soul, and planted a bush of roses over them. She did try to find a silver lining and make lemonade out of the lemons she was handed - And thus, her garden flourished with beautiful flowers. From death springs life eternal.

It was the little angel of light, turned ugly devil of darkness, that made her realise, the reason for her existing in this world was to raise the monsters. 

She never thought she would tire of the smell of roses, nor did she ever think she would get used to seeing skinned and eviscerated critters hanging by their neck, all over the house. Roses had always been her favourite flowers... Alas, not anymore, and they soon made her only retch.   And then, the little devil became stronger, when he killed his baby-sitter... He couldn't have been older than two or three years old at most, and he was swinging in his small rocking chair, white and painted crimson with the young lady's blood. She was able to convince the authorities that she had taken her own life by slitting her throat - After all, how could a child of three, so giggly and happy, be capable of such a heinous sin?

But this little devil somehow aged a whole decade overnight - How, she would never be able to tell, after all, it was as nonsensical as everything surrounding this devil spawn. That was possibly the most outlandish thing, far outside the natural realm. He almost felt as though he was in a hurry to get somewhere, age-wise. And it was that night that she found him over her, strangling her to death. His beautiful blue eyes were glaring at her murderously... Only to immediately turn to realisation of his deeds, and he started crying pitifully. She was so terrified, but so was he. His own mind and body were acting in discordance. When you look at men of significance, such as artists or world leaders, or inventors - They all had their particular peccadilloes on their road to the top, haven't they? But growing ten years overnight... That called for sacred intervention.

From that night forwards, Constance Langdon's relationship with her beautiful grandson deteriorated, and the little devil knew that. He was desperately seeking some kind of redemption, some honeyed ailment to sooth his woes, and wipe his tears the way his caretaker refused to anymore. He ran into the forest to weep his heart away. He looked pathetic, wearing only a dirty Tshirt and a pair of shorts, and sitting by the foot of a large wisteria tree, looking like a hot mess. Even his beautiful golden locks were tangled and ugly, just like him. An ugly little demon castaway.

"What do we have here? A little weeping devil?" a delicate voice called out, as soft footsteps crunching over the fallen leaves alerted him of a girl's presence, though he daren't raise his head and look at her. He was far too ashamed of the way he looked, and of what his heart felt. "Why is it that you're weeping so, little devil?" she asked, but his sobs were the only reply. The girl looked around, analysing the decay. Everything surrounding the young man was dying and wilting gradually, as if proportional with the misery of his own heart. "Poor little devil and his poor broken heart. Will you allow me to mend it for you?" the little devil felt her kneeling in front of him, her hands so gentle over his own. He wanted to jump and spring away, he wanted to push her away from him, he wanted to be left alone - But somehow, the tenderness of her voice, and her warm touch, made him melt. He shily looked at her, his eyes pink and puffy from all the crying. "C-Can you really... Do that?" she was so beautiful, his heart stop. A gorgeous smile on her face, and her green eyes were sparkling with kindness. She was wearing a pretty, white summer dress, and her scarlet hair fell over her shoulders and chest in cascades of soft velvet. She looked innocent, and her soul was bright and benevolent. She was glowing with purity and innocence. She was an angel. How could he stay around her, when he was nothing but an ugly devil? He wasn't worthy of her - He was beneath her in every way. Worthless, useless, a killer, with a malevolent heart and soul, incapable of controlling his inner power and strength, and especially his dreadful emotions. "I can try." her smile widened, and she helped him stand up. She was so small compared to him... So precious... He wanted to protect her and that beautiful smile of hers, and yet, it seemed as though it was her trying to protect him and his heart. "Let's see... Hmm... You've made quite the mess, haven't you? You must be really upset." he hung his head in shame, only to feel her hand on his face, raising it back. His eyes were wide with shock and he could only stare at the way she twirled so cutesy, and all around her, the once ashened nature was brought back to life, a vibrant green, with so many strong colours. "How... How did you do that...?! Everything was dead! Everything was -- Everything was wilted!" her sweet giggle made his head spin.

"Well, if you must know, I suppose I can tell you. Ah, but of course, this must be our little secret, alright?" he nodded vigorously. "You're so lovely." his eyes widened so much, and his cheeks were as red as her hair. It only seemed to amuse her more, as she stepped in front of him and held his hands in her own, approaching his palms together. "You've got the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen, little devil." she told him. "Even the skies are jealous on them." his bottom lip was quivering, feeling himself ready to cry once again. In his hands, a flower bloomed, light blue, and glowing. It was the most beautiful flower he's ever seen in his... Rather short life. "A beautiful flower for a beautiful man." she said, placing the flower behind his ear. "It suits you. Highlights your eyes." "Are you an angel?!" he found himself blurting out. "An angel?" she mused. "No, I don't think so. Rather, I am a witch." she grinned. "I can do many things already... But I never show my friends. They'd freak out." "But your magic is so... Beautiful... And innocent. Why would they freak out?" the boy frowned. "People fear what they don't understand." she explained. "But you're special. I can sense it - You have magical blood too." she said, placing her hand over his heart, feeling the anxiously rapid beating. "Aww, forgive me, have I made you nervous?" "Will you be my friend?" he asked, desperately. "I can be anything you want me to be." she smiled at the beautiful young man who looked at her with confusion. "You don't know what I mean, do you?" he shook his head. "I can show you. I can take your pain away. If you want me to." "Yes." he exhaled breathlessly. "Yes, I do. Please, show me." he eagerly asked her, earning another sweet smile from her. "Close your eyes." he did as instructed. "And now... Lose yourself in the feeling." he felt a pressure over his lips. He couldn't comprehend the complexity of her charm, but his body acted all on his own. One of his arms was wrapped around her body, pulling her closer, whilst the other was buried in her hair, holding her dearly. His lips were moving all on their own, to the rhythm dictated by her own soft, sweet ones. She tasted like caramel. He loved caramel. He wanted to kiss her every day and every night, without stop. Even when his lungs were failing from the lack of air, he still didn't want to let go of the pleasure he felt, and the sensation of his head going hazy and getting transported into another universe, safe and sound. "Did I succeed?" she whispered against his lips. "Can we do that again?" she let out an amused exhale. "Any time you wish." and she kissed him again.

From then one, every day without fail, they would meet by the purple tree, and he would lay his head on her lap, letting her play with his soft locks of hair whilst she read him whatever story she was feeling like at the time - Or sometimes, she would sing for him, or simply, they would chat about whatever things they felt like. He felt safe in her presence. He felt... Good, as though there was no more evil attempting to take over his body and mind anymore. He wanted nothing more but to succumb to her ocean of love and let fate guide them on.

He told her of the day his grandma abandoned him, killing herself in the Murder House, never wanting to see him again, and she kissed him, making it fall with pink flower petals over him, and dancing with him, as the petals in the breeze. He told her how he found her, how he wept her, how he embraced her... Only for a man to tell her that she became a spirit, but didn't want him to see her. The man wanted to counsel him, help him, and he agreed. He became the father he never had. He was brilliant, and his mind was always at least five steps ahead of the average man. Everything in that house was dead... With the exception of him - The only light that came out of all that mess. He solved a rubik's cube in a matter of seconds, and beat his ghost father at chess and checkers, they'd play catch with a baseball glove...

And then, he told her of the time he met his real father, another ghost that looked perfectly his age, blond hair like his own, and dark eyes. He was so hostile and aggressive with him. He denied him, saying he was fucked up. He cried, and cried in her embrace, and he felt himself turning to the dark side, all because of this rejection. The man who tried to save him was losing him... And the house got sold. The two women didn't even have the time to settle in. They stepped just a few feet, and he, dressed in the leather suit of his own father, stabbed them to death. Their ghosts rose up, looking confused, but in his rage, he burnt them. Burnt their souls, turning them to ashes, denying them any rest... And he fell to his knees. The man who tried to save him realised he could never be saved, and the little Devil wept again.

Everyone he ever loved, everyone he thought loved him, every bit of connection he had with any living being - They all left him. All, but one - His sweet, beloved little angel, who made him feel the snow on his face for the first time, and showed him the beauty of a smile, and the tenderness of love. He destroyed everything he touched, but with her, he was capable of gentleness and vulnerability. It felt... Right. It felt natural.

'Then I saw a beast with ten horns and seven heads rising out of the sea and all who dwell on the Earth will worship Him.' he made a murder of crows encircle the house every day... And then they came, the worshippers of Satan. 'And the son became black as sackcloth with hair, and the whole moon became as blood, and the stars fell from the Heaven to the Earth, for the great day of wrath is come.' the worshippers bowed to a drowsy little devil, who was sleeping in a scorching hot room.

And then the Black Mass happened... These worshippers drugged and kidnapped an innocent girl, garbing her in a white dress and laying her on a sacrificial table. The little Devil stared at her, his heart aching - His mind imagined not the blonde girl, but his sweet angel, with the red hair draped all over the table, and her green eyes wet with tears, looking confused all around, like an innocent lamb. He heard 'HAIL SATAN' being shouted, and a dagger was brought down on the girl's chest with such force, that he jumped in fright. The girl was shrieking with such agony as the Black Pope shoved his hand inside the wound, ripping her heart out. But his vision cleared, and his fright wiped away. That wasn't his beloved angel, just some girl. He took the heart in his own hand, and bit into it as though it was a ripe, sweet apple. 'Ave Satanas' he heard, and from his shadow formed a demonic silhouette. "Father. I'm with you now." he felt the darkest presence embracing him.

The next day, he went to his sweet Angel to tell her the good news - Finally, someone was accepting him for who he was, and they were believing in him. He found a new family... For once, it wasn't him crying anymore, but her. Why was his most beloved person in the world crying? Who did he have to burn alive and torture for eternity? "My Devil... My dear little Devil... They are taking me away. They're taking me away!" she wept into his arms. "They say I need to learn how to control my powers, and they're taking me to New Orleans, to learn from a Coven of Witches." she said. His grip on her tightened, and he, too, teared up. "But... But I haven't learnt how to make a flower for you... Or... Or... How to make it rain petals on you... Or make it snow for you! You can't go yet, I... What-- What will I do without you?" he asked in disbelief, unable to breathe properly anymore. "I don't know... I don't know... I don't know..." she cried and cried.  "I will miss you... I can't live without you! My sweet Angel, what will I do without you? How will we ever meet again?" he asked, more afraid now than he's ever been. "We can... Text each other? Or send mail? I don't ever want to lose you from my life." the way she looked up at him, so sincerely, so dearly... The Devil kissed his dear Angel goodbye. "And we will speak every day - No, every hour, okay? You can't leave me alone! You and I - We will be together forever, okay?" The Angel gave him a nostalgic, melancholic smile. "Yes, my love. Together, forever. Just the two of us - You and I."

Whilst the sweet Angel was being sent to the Witch school to learn her craft, the little Devil's own mother tried to kill him that night, with a knife, in the bed where he lay asleep... Or so she thought. She was set aflame. His father saved the mother, and he fled. Whilst he was on the run with his new caretaker, a woman who truly believed in him, who truly cared about him, his sweet Angel was in mortal danger every day, all because of the careless actions of the Coven and their sick Supreme. Whilst he was being revered and worshipped, she was forced to take the Seven Wonders test... And after that day, the little Devil never heard from his sweet Angel again... And he knew... He even warned her not to take the test! He knew, a pure soul like her would never be able to escape the clutches of hell... But she was not allowed to back down. She was forced to take all the tests.

'When I was a child, I spoke like a child. I understood like a child, I thought like a child. But when I became a woman, I put aside childish things.' Childhood was over, and they had to put aside any petty fear or reservation.

First, the five witches were tasked to perform the Telekinesis wonder. One by one, they all succeeded in bringing the lit candle into their grasp, and blow into the fire. The Concilium test, otherwise known as Mind Control, was next, and Misty made Queenie slap herself thrice, whilst she reversed by making Misty grab her hair roughly. Katrina made Myrtle dance around the room; Madison made Kyle walk over and kiss her, whilst also making Zoe slap herself; whilst Zoe stopped him from kissing her, and made him kiss her back... Only to end up chocking her. Cordelia had to swat him away.

The third test was Transmutation, and the girls played a game of tag all around the academy and the gardens. They were really having fun, for once, all together. They truly needed a god damn break... And it was all great, until Zoe ended up impaled on the spikes of the gate and needed to be rescued. It was Katrina who hugged her body and whispered 'Vitalum vitalis' over and over again, her hand over her wound - And she was in perfect condition, and though nothing happened. Queenie was unable to do it. Madison refused, though she demonstrated the wonder on a fly she killed. Misty, too, with tears in her eyes saved a fallen critter she found.

Next, they lit up fires, but Cordelia was now in the game too - All of them were able to light fires, and during the Divination test, Cordelia and Katrina were able to find the objects, but Madison failed. The lovely red haired witch was never thought as a candidate, but Zoe, whose life she had saved, and Queenie were cheering for her, Misty or Cordelia. 

In the end, all of them took to the last test - Descensum - The worst of them all. Cordelia was the first to awaken, who saw herself trying to get Fiona's approval, only to get bitch-slapped for it. Next came Madison, who was stuck in a musical network, Queenie who was selling fried chicken, and Zoe, who saw herself breaking up with Kyle over and over again. The hourglass sand was already done falling, yet Katrina and Misty never woke up. They were stuck in hell, with the other witches mourning them. Cordelia tried, and tried to call to them, to help them, to guide them back to the real life... But it failed. They were forever trapped in hell.

And Michael new. The moment his darling flower stopped answering, he swore revenge on the witches who dared force her hand and threw her in hell. She was an Angel, no way should she have gone to hell, willingly or otherwise! Who knew what suffering she was facing, or the woes that were braking her heart and sanity. The worst of the worst. The witches were going to pay for this.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Katrina remembered all this. She knew all this, and now, her past self was beginning to regain a sense of truth. Everything Michael was telling her, was true. It was then that she told him that, although he never wanted to tell her about being the Antichrist, she knew. Though she wasn't a traitor for the Coven like Dinah was, she knew. From Cordelia, and the warlock aiding their cause, and the stories from the Murder House - But she wasn't scared of him. She knew he would protect her - After all, why bring her back from Hell, if that was where he was going to throw her, anyway? She now remembered bringing back the warlock that Miss Mead burnt to ashes, and how the Grand Chancellor, and the other warlock teacher, along with Miss Mead were burnt at the stake, whilst the one she resurrected lit the fire.

He remembers Cordelia taunting him after realising he cannot bring back his caretaker... But she also told him there is humanity in him... And she can see it. His sweet Angel told him that too, long ago, when they met. No matter how much he tried to find his evil-doing from her, she knew. It was as though she could read him to perfection - Perhaps she could read him, after all. She could read his soul and his agony, which she turned to euphoric bliss with a single caress. She could read his mind whenever he was too hesitant to tell him what worried or ailed him, and though she never commented on it, she reassured him just as well. She was always there for him, his beloved.  The Supreme extended her hand for him to take, and bring him on the path of redemption. For a second there, he was tempted into agreeing - He wanted to stay with his sweet Kat and never let her go... But then, he recalled every single person who messed with him, and betrayed him. He recalled the burning of his caretaker, and he saw red. He threatened each and every one of them. He will kill them all - Oh, he will.

For four days, he wept in the forest, all alone, with no water and no food, and no sleep. He was desperate, and his father wasn't answering. He stumbled upon some supposedly Satanic service, which only made him want to smash his head against the wall and end himself. He wanted his Angel. He needed his Angel. He was hallucinating and going crazy, but she wasn't there - How could she? He ran away, aimlessly into the forest... And he was nicely brought in by an old lady who was fine with feeding him some warm food. She kept speaking ridiculously, and at first, he thought she was senile. 'Satan is carnal pleasure' he told her, as he remembers the heat scorching him every time his darling touched him. The believer tried to kill him for daring to speak ill of her faith... Only to see the mark of the Antichirst behind his ear, and she fell into worship.

'Semper crescis, Aut decrescis, Vita, Detestabilis. Nunc obdurat et tunc curat. Ludo mentis aciem!' they all chanted for him. 'Sors salutis et virtutis michi nunc contraria!' he felt stronger. 'Quod per sortem sternit fortem mecum omnes plangite!' what gorgeous hymn, all for him.

They brought forth two sacrifices for the Black Mass. One was Letitia, a social worker... An innocent soul who dedicated her life to aiding others who were suffering. The man was a lifelong member of Doctors without borders. Both of them were innocent and pure. Good people. There was something satisfying about tainting and corrupting innocent, pure souls, making them grow ink black, from their glowing white. But in every single innocent soul, he could see the beautiful Angel, and for a single second, he flinched, as the little Devil was killing the beautiful Angel.

They all fell to their knees before him, chanting 'Hail Satan' and singing for him. 'O Fortuna Velut luna Statu Variabilis' Michael slashed their throats at once, at the same time, letting the blood fall like ribbons. He felt empowered, as though finally, he had his father blessing him.  The worshippers brought him with him to dinner, and they wouldn't stop towering over him, watching him like a specimen. He felt angry. He couldn't stand these people, and all their continuous questions, never letting him forget he was the Antichrist - He had no idea what he was supposed to do - He never received an instruction manual on how to bring the end of the world! This woman brought him to this robotics corporation, where Miss Venable was HR. Kat scowled, hearing about the bitch who tortured her and tried to kill her. He met two ridiculous men who didn't believe him, and to prove he was truly the spawn of Satan, he made a woman spontaneously combust, and turned off the lights. They brought him to eat... Sushi, and they kept talking and talking - Idiots. That's what they were - Complete idiots... Who supposedly sold their souls to Satan and now are billionaires and all that. They were tasked with making an android in Miss Mead's figure, and personality also, based on everything he described her as. And they perfectly created her - Michael had his caretaker back.

The Supreme was continuing to train all the witches, the Academy being protected by Cordelia's power, and everyone else's. But they were betrayed. The witches were betrayed by one they considered maybe not an ally, but at least neutral. The new Voodoo Queen, Dinah, sabotaged them, destroying their barrier and allowing Michael and Miss Mead to intrude inside the school. Zoe used the cutlery to attack Michael, but he diverted it, and he killed them all. Miss Mead and her robotic weapons killed Zoe and Queenie, and everyone else. Satan greenlit Dinah's talk show for 13 episodes, she should be feeling proud for betraying the whole lot of humanity.

Cordelia and Myrtle saved Kat and Mallory, and not only was he pissed off that he couldn't save his Angel, but he couldn't kill all witches. He returned to the Cooperative, and though he couldn't stand those two cocked-up nerds, they were part of the Illuminati. He needn't magic, but science and nuclear weapons to bring about the end of the world. He just needed three people in the right places, and Armageddon was assured.

The witches hid in Misty's cabin in the swamp... All the few that remained of them. Cordelia, in her dream state, could see Zoe and Queenie dead, as well as all the others. She was convulsing in her comatose state. She couldn't feel their souls... They were erased. They could never be brought back to life. Katrina was shuddering, thinking about everything going on. How could such a catastrophe happen? Her dear little Devil, doing so much evil... She was so confused, so afraid... What was she supposed to do? She didn't want the end of the world, but she didn't want Michael to die either. She loved him too much to allow him to die. Was there nothing she could do? She might not be the Supreme, but was she truly powerless? Was she truly so dumb that she couldn't cook up a plan that would save everything she held dear to he heart?

She watched Mallory getting inside the bathtub and going to save the Romanovs from their demise, but she wasn't yet strong enough to succeed. Returning a hundred years into the past and alerting their fate was too great, even for her... Not yet. She was crying blood, and she was disoriented and frightened. Michael barged in the Illuminati meeting of the world leaders, and brought forth the Apocalypse - And they couldn't decline, for they sold their souls to his Father. On their lands, they'll make Outposts, with the admission price of $100 million. Only the worthy will be allowed permission.

Myrtle infiltrated the Cooperative and she found out that Outpost 3 will be in the place of the Warlock academy, at Hawthorne. She made those two dunderheads make sure her witches had their spots sure there, no matter what. Coco's father was rich, he was going to buy four tickets for the family - Coco, Mallory, Katrina... They were going to be fine there, together, while the others lay in rest, until their powers manifest, and they awaken. It was the only chance to attempt Tempus Infinituum. The three were going to be placed under an identity spell - They will forget everything and gain new personalities. Coco was going to be the supreme bitch, with Madison's personality as her own, and she was going to emotionally torture Mallory and Katrina, so their powers won't be detected. It was a huge risk, knowing Katrina's involvement with Michael, and his own obsession with her, but if his mind is occupied with her, perhaps they can attempt everything, right under his nose. It was a painful goodbye, not only to their own selves, but to their witch family - All for the Coven to live on. For the World to live on. Tears were shed, and regrets and confesses were spoken... If the world was going to end, at least they'll be together.

Everything they every knew completely disappeared, and this was the point where Katrina forgot all about Michael Langdon and his love for him. Coco was going to Mr. Gallant for a hair styling, whilst Mallory and Kat were there as assistants... Or slaves rather. Mallory stuck by her side even during the Outpost, whilst Katrina was diverted to other jobs, some personal to other Purples, some that instilled cleaning around and such. No wonder she became such a crybaby, being tormented like that. But it was fine, he was going to make everyone pay for what they've done to her. They were all going to pay so dearly.

Nobody was going to take away the beautiful Angel from the ugly Devil's arms ever again.

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[kindsleybooks]

Death Is An Unwanted Guest

warnings: mentions of death, injury, angst

This is an alternate ending to one of my characters storyline!! Also english isnt my first language, sorry for any mistakes, this is translated from Turkish and since this is an alternatetive ending the writing on this one isnt that good.

_______________________________________

"Someone to watch me die."

Purpose.

Throughout history mortals died for their purposes. Which made no sense because the only true purpose was always death.

This realization hit Eris when she was only seconds away from meeting that true purpose. She always loved that there was an end to everything. All sufferings met an inevitable end. But she never realised that meant all of happiness also met an inevitable end. It never crossed her mind that meeting her friends would be the end of her misery. She thought only death could shut the stupid voices in her head, only death could make her forget those memories and save her. She felt as if she was sailing through a river during a storm. Her little rowboat was crashing into the rocks in the river. So she found herself looking forward to the cliff at the end of it.

But then she met them. At first her cold exterior, her armour stayed on. She told herself she was only helping them because she wanted to succed and they did the same because they wanted to survive. But, man, was she wrong. All her walls came crashing down as those reliant idiots patched her broken wings. A spark of trust fueled the fire of love. She found her place beside them. She found her family.

She didnt want to die anymore.

However fate is cruel. Death never comes to you when you expect it and she was moments away from it.

She was down on the ground, her right leg was bleeding out, her friends were too far away to hear her cries for help and those damned creatures were getting awfully close. She felt weak as her attempts to get up on her feet failed, she could only hide for so long.

"Get up, kid." a man's familiar voice spoke. She looked around to see him, but she couldnt see anyone. At this point she was sure she was losing her mind. Which is funny because everyone else already thinks she lost it and that might just be true since she responded to the voice.

"I cant." she said as pain broke her voice.

"I didn't train you all those years so you could die." A figure stepped out of the shadows. A face that brought her comfort everytime.

"Ares? How are you here?" she asked as he lifted her up to her feet and helped her find balance.

"How are you this beaten up?" he responded. "I thought you were better than this."

"I'm fine." she said, why was he like this? The worry in his eyes was sweet but his sharp tone hurt. He was the father she found, though she never really told him that, she couldnt help but feel like she disappointed him.

"Good, because you have to fight." he said coldly. She nodded and gripped her weapon.

"You'll help me?"

"I wouldn't be here otherwise." he said. They got out of the hiding spot with his mark, drawing attention from the creatures. They darted into the two of them. It was hard to move, hard to attack, hard to breathe when her leg was injured this bad. She just thanked whatever's above that she could at least stand. Creatures could easily respond to her sloppy attacks so she started to dodge their attacks instead of attacking herself. Maybe that would tire them out. She wanted to check on Ares but she couldnt even see him. The creatures looked as ugly as her wound. They didnt even have skin, how could they attack so well?

She had to stop dodging at some point. She slung her sword towards the creatures, aiming one of them, killing it succesfully. She winced as pain rushed through her body with each and every movement. After a while she thought she got the hang of it but she felt one of their claws slash a deep wound into her side. She yelped loudly but waisted no time. Killed that one too. Adrenaline made her mind black out. Her mind couldnt even comprehend what she was doing or what was happening. By the time she pulled herself together there were a few creatures left. She could now see Ares fighting. At least he was safe. She fought until each creature laid dead on the ground.

"Good fight, kid." Ares said as he approached her. He didnt seem to notice the wound as she held her side. Her legs didnt seem to be working anymore as she let herself fell to the ground.

And she was finally victorious. The warrior of chaos fell to the ground, victorious. Dying but at least she put up a fight. But.. well, that wasn’t important. The important thing was that she was covered in her own blood, which stained the ground below her. Immediately, he rushed to her.

He knelt by her side, staring at her. He wanted to heal her wounds, to save her, but he couldnt do anything but stare. Pathetic.

“Youre hurt...” He breathed out, frowning.

"It's okay. I'm okay." she gave him a weak smile.

Ares wanted to yell. To say that no, she wasn’t okay. She was covered in her own blood, wounds decorating her skin. But he couldn’t show his emotions. He knew he was meant to keep calm for her.

“You did good. You won.” he said slowly.

"Did i make you proud?" she asked and reached for his hand. He gave her hand a squeeze.

"Of course. You always do." Her smile widened, he smiled back. He felt his eyes burning with tears but he held them back. "You're not dying, Eris." he said sharply.

"Okay, i'm not dying." she nodded. "Can you hug me?"

Ares stiffened, but he leaned down and gently wrapped his arms around his warrior. He had to be careful though, he didn’t want to press on her wounds. He held onto her tightly, trying to be a little gentle while also trying to keep his cold demeanour up. But the feeling of her being so close and hurt and cold and fragile only tore his heart apart inside. Eventually, he slowly pulled back from the embrace just enough to look down at her. He was unable to heal her and it killed him but what choice he had rather making her comfortable until the healer arrive? Because he was going to find them. He had to.

When he looked at her, she had tears in her eyes that she didnt let go. She held onto him as if he was her life that was slipping away.

"I dont want to die." she said quietly.

He froze, hearing those words only made him want to shout. To yell at whatever god was responsible for this. The warrior who everyone expected to be strong and powerful was only a child, his child. He gently ran a hand through her hair. He failed to keep his tears from falling.

"You wont." he whispered. "You're strong. You'll make it."

"Yeah." she chuckled. "Because i'm your daughter, right?"

He smiled through tears.

"Exactly." he said. "I raised you to survive."

But his faith was disappering as her touch began to feel like a ghost. She felt colder and lighter.

"Kid." he called to her desperately. "Dont."

"Everything's okay." she muttered as her eyes slowly closed. "I'm just tired."

He shook her but she didnt respond. Sobs grew in his throat, he hugged her cold body. She couldnt be gone, right? She couldnt be gone because that would mean she would become one of those people who he could only find in memories and pictures. She couldnt be gone because she promised him years ago when he found out about her attempts to end her life. She couldnt be gone because that would mean she would never grow up, she would never get her command like she always wanted.

"Then rest." he said, he didnt even know why. "You deserved it."

[cynicalone94]

Made To Watch

“Jay!”

He turns to see Trudy Platt walking toward him across the parking lot.

“What’s up, Sarge?”

“You did good with that kid earlier today.” she says, offering him a rare smile. “I don’t know that anyone else could have gotten her to open up.”

“She just needed someone who was willing to listen.” Jay says, frowning. “Anyone on the team could have done it.”

“No.” she says, shaking her head. “I don’t think that’s true.”

He freezes, going pale.

“It’s just a nosy old coot’s theory.” she says gently. “And you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. I just wanted you to know that I’m here if you need to talk.”

He’s quiet and for a minute she thinks he’s going to shut her down entirely.

“Thanks Sarge.” he says quietly. “I uh… It’s not something I’ve ever talked about. Not sure I’d even know where to start.”

“The beginning is always a good place.” she says, putting a hand on his shoulder. “When you’re ready.”

“I appreciate that.” he says.

“Alright.” she says, chuckling. “Get out of here.”

“Right away.” he agrees, turning back toward his truck and reaching into his pocket for his keys.

A scream draws his attention toward the road. A man is dragging a young girl off the sidewalk and into a gray panel van.

“Hey!” he shouts, breaking into a sprint. “Let her go.”

He can hear Trudy running just behind him but he keeps his attention on the man. He’s stopped short of actually pulling the girl into the back of the van and Jay’s brain clocks that.

Shouldn’t he be trying to get away before they can reach him?

As he crosses the edge of the neighboring building and steps onto the sidewalk another man steps forward, pointing a gun directly at him.

“Drop your weapon, Detective.”

He slows to a stop.

“Let the girl go.” he orders.

“Put your weapon down or I’ll kill her.” the man orders. “Take some pot shots at you and the bitch too.”

“You too, crazy bitch.” the man with his arm around the little girl adds.

With half a glance back at Trudy, Jay clears his weapon and crouches down to place it on the ground. He can hear her doing the same.

“Get in the van.” the second man orders. “Both of you.”

Jay raises an eyebrow but one glance at the little girl, still shaking and crying, is enough for him to step forward, stepping up into the back of the van.

Once Trudy is sitting next to him, the first man releases the little girl and whirls on them. Before either of them can react, he fires twice, a tranquilizer dart piercing each of their necks.

Jay’s last thought as he loses consciousness is that this was planned and that they are in deep trouble.

He wakes up in a heap on the floor.

Looking around the dark room, he makes out Trudy sitting in a chair ten feet in front of him.

Her wrists are secured to the arms of the chair and duct tape is plastered over her mouth.

He continues scanning the room but aside from the fact that the shackles on his wrists are attached to a chain that trails up to the ceiling there isn’t anything else to see.

“No good deed goes unpunished huh?” he jokes.

Trudy just rolls her eyes.

The door behind her opens.

“You’re awake.” the man, no longer wearing a ski mask, says looking between the two of them.

He’s got light skin and dark hair, bright blue eyes fixing on Jay for only a moment before turning his attention to Trudy.

“I suppose you are wondering what this is about.” he says.

“Yeah.” Jay pipes up. “I’m certainly curious.”

The man whirls around and slams his booted foot into Jay’s stomach.

“Shut up, dumbass.” he snaps. “This is between me and Platt. You just got lucky being in the right place at the right time.”

Jay rolls his eyes but stays quiet. The man turns back to Trudy.

“You sent my son to prison.” he growls. “I’ve spent the last ten years watching him suffer all the indignities that come along with that. And then last week he was killed. Beaten to death by another inmate.”

Jay’s stomach flips.

“Look man-” he starts but all it gets him is another kick to the stomach.

Then the chain is retracting, dragging him up off the floor. It continues until only the tips of his toes are touching the floor.

Trudy twists her wrists against the ropes securing them, angry noises coming from behind the gag.

“Now you get to watch someone you care about suffering.” the man tells Trudy. “You look away, this only gets worse for him.”

Her continued protests are ignored as the man approaches Jay, sliding a set of brass knuckles onto his hands.

Jay holds his gaze right up until the moment that the fist slams into his stomach. The fists keep coming and he tries to curl forward even as the ropes keep him upright.

He can hear Trudy’s muffled screams and wishes he could find the breath to reassure her, to tell her that he’s okay, that he’s taken worse beatings than this.

But every blow forces the air from his lungs.

After dozens of strikes, some of them drifting up to impact his ribs, the man finally falls back.

He fights to lift his head from his chest, searching out Trudy’s face.

Tears are streaming down her cheeks and he forces a smile.

“‘M’okay.” he gasps. “‘S’okay.”

She shakes her head.

The man laughs coldly.

“Trying to comfort the bitch?” he says. “I really did pick the right guy to hurt, huh?”

He turns back to Trudy, leaning down to get in her face.

“It’s going to gut you when I kill him, isn’t it?” he tells her. “When you watch him die right in front of you.”

“Not yer fault.” Jay says. “‘s’an ass.”

The next punch rips a choked groan from his throat.

“Feel closer t’yer son that way.” Jay says. “In pris’n jus’ likim.”

“You little bastard.” the man snarls, landing the next punch square in the center of Jay’s face.

And then it’s lights out.

[cheemken]

“No one could deviate from that path. Not even Iris herself could deviate from that path.” KNIGHT THIS DAMNED LINE

She is just SO convinced that she’s destined to be someone she’s not. God I love it when the good characters eventually fall into madness

Also, I would like to hear about Iris freezing people and forcing them to tell Diantha and Lance what they’ve said in the past

Imagine Iris threatening their families lives or threading to kill their Pokémon, like having Haxorus or Hydregion hold down that persons Pokémon while getting ready to maul it to death, if they don’t start talking and explain to her parents what part they played in her descent to insanity

Please Iris needs therapy at this point too😭🤣

Homegirl really fucking lost it na and she's there making sure everyone knows it's their fault and just cjdmbd ough™

But like omf yeah can you imagine cbmdbd the Shadow Triad taking them off the Frigate, down with the others, and god everything suddenly felt colder, everything went quiet, and then Iris looks back to the Triad, telling them to watch over Bianca within the Frigate, make sure Hilda and Hilbert won't come back, kill them if they must. And just chdmdb imagine the other Champions being so wary now that Iris is down there with them, B. Kyurem at her side and god imagine how that'd fuck up the rest of the Unova kids tho, that Iris managed to take Zekrom to fuse with Kyurem. And ofc, the Dragon is there glaring down at everyone, waiting for its hero's commands.

Then Iris approaches this man, fighting off Plasma grunts, she calls out Haxorus, pinning down his Krookodile with a snarl, the man was petrified when he saw Iris, and the grunts took it as an opportunity to also grab him, forcing him to kneel before his god. He looks up at her, terrified, pleading for mercy, it make Iris grin. She then crouched down his level, grabbing his jaw as she forced him to look at Lance and Diantha, "you've always been one of the more.. opinionated ones," Iris began, voice almost sounding soft, then she chuckled, "so go ahead, why don't you tell my parents all the bullshit you tell every goddamn person about me." She sneered, her grip on his jaw lowered down to his neck, her hold on him was tight, his vision almost obscured by black spots. His own words caught in his throat, tears fell from his eyes, the words that came out his mouth were pleas of mercy, which did not appeal to Iris. Growling, she grabbed the man and threw him to the ground, stepping hard on the back of his head, slamming his face to the ground, and an unsettling crack rang in their ears.

"tell them!" She growled, ignoring the cries from Lance and Diantha for her to stop, then she crouched down, grabbing him by his hair, forcing him to look up at her parents again, his face was covered in blood. Iris chuckled now, eyes half lidded as she stared at him, "tell them. Tell them every single one of your thoughts about how fucking pathetic I am. Tell them how much you hate their daughter. Tell them, or I'll make sure you watch your Krookodile die a cold and painful death."

And he finally did, as his tears mixed with his blood, he finally spoke about his hatred for Iris, even before she became Champion. Told them about how he thought she was an incompetent Gym Leader, how she was just a child, doesn't matter she was a prodigy. Told them how she doesn't take her job seriously, even tho she really did. Told them about how he thinks she just got lucky to have beaten Alder, it should've been Hilbert that's the Champion. Told them about every spiteful thing he ever thought about Iris, about how he thought she wasn't fit to be Unova's Champion, how he never gave her the respect she deserves, how he never saw her as a Champion, how he wished she could've lost immediately on her first battle as Champion to be replaced with someone he thinks is more competent. He told them how Drayden should've just left her in Blackthorn. He told them everything. He told them how much he hated a child who only wanted what's best for their region.

Imagine how that'd mess up Dia and Lance tho, cause hearing it first hand now, it fucked them up. This man hated Iris from the start, from the time she was still Gym Leader, thinking she was incompetent. How their daughter had to endure this kind of hatred for so long, since she was young, since she was still a twelve year old kid suddenly thrusted into a world where failure to meet expectations would be met with more spiteful words of discouragement from the masses.

And god just cjdmbd imagine Iris throwing him back to the ground, and he's there crying out for mercy, for forgiveness, but Iris looked at him devoid of any emotion, her eyes almost gleaming with an ominous light, she spoke, "kill him." Then she turned to Haxorus, "both of them." And she went back to Lance and Diantha's side, not sparing a glance back at the man, his and his Krookodile's fate sealed by Haxorus' Guillotine.

Imagine her then smiling wryly, "well.. was that enough? Or do you want to hear more? I'm sure there's a lot of them who wants to tell you just how shit I am." She laughed as if it's some sort of twisted joke, not giving them the time to process the way the grunts and Haxorus killed the man and his pokemon, as Iris dragged them somewhere else, making them hear more of just how the people of Unova see her.

[taiblogcomics]

Forerunner Is Forewarned

Hey there, faith builds. Wanna talk about some Countdown? Coz I'm still committed to this bit~

Here's the cover:

Hey, it's the Justice League! And also Karate Kid! Maybe they weon't be holding him prisoner any further this issue. But who can tell at this point, since Donna and Kyle debuted on the cover and didn't appear in the issue. Kyle still hasn't appeared in the comic proper! God, this is a generic cover, though. Like, this is the cover they use for the second TPB. This issue isn't even in that trade! We're only, like, 7 issues in and they're already busting out the generic covers? Not a great sign, eh~?

All right, the recap: Karate Kid is being investigated by the JLA. Jimmy Olsen is investigating the recurring deaths of the New Gods while also having superpowers. Donna Troy and Jason Todd were investigating Duela Dent's death, but got waylaid by Amazons Attack! tie-ins. Holly Robinson is avoiding being investigated by the cops. Pied Piper and Trickster are investigating their options with a new crime. And Mary Marvel is investigating her new powerset, having been repowered by Black Adam and fought the most unpleasant demon in comics history. Now let's investigate this issue!

We pick up right where we left off, with Forerunner having beaten up Donna Troy and Jason Todd. She's disgusted that this is what they had to call her for, finding it too easy. And despite Donna being unconscious in a ditch one panel ago, she suddenly flies up behind and punches Forerunner in a two-page splash panel. Like, she punches her hard enough to have her skip like a rock across the National Mall reflecting pool. And this bloodies her knuckles, which might be the first time that's ever happened in superhero comics.

Meanwhile, Jimmy Olsen is putting his thoughts together after watching Sleez's death. He narrates into a personal tape recorder, spending two pages to recap the concepts of the New Gods for any new readers. I won't bother to do the same, despite this series being probably the first time I've reviewed them. While narrating, Jimmy also recounts his powers, and has come to a conclusion. His powers are activated by stress. His life being in danger gives him some sort of temporary power. You'd think being a 20-something living on his own in Metropolis would be stressful enough to make them "always on", but no such luck.

Back with Donna and Forerunner, their battle continues. Forerunner deigns to introduce herself, but her only motivation in fighting Donna is "because they told her to". Donna grabs a machine gun from one of the dead soldiers on the ground (a remnant from Amazons Attack!) and Forerunner is one of those "Only weak species use ranged weapons, there's no honour in it" types. You can say "weak", Forerunner, I'd say "strategic". However, Donna rises to the bait of "come closer if you want to beat the shit out of me", and discards the gun for an Amazon's sword and shield.

There's a brief interlude with a mysterious figure approaching Holly Robinson to offer a better destiny than homelessness, and that's all the screen time she gets this week before returning to Donna and Forerunner. Forerunner's out openly mocking how many war memorials there are in Washington, and I'm certainly no rah-rah patriot, but I think there's a difference between critiquing America and humanity's war-focused history and some fictional alien saying none of these monuments were earned. Anyway, thankfully one of the Monitor teleports in to break up the fight.

And the reason the bloodthirst Forerunner actually does deign to stop fighting is because she's genetically programmed to not attack the Monitors. There's a lot fo sniping back and forth about it, and we also cut over to the other Monitors discussing how the Forerunners also suck. Way to shill your new character, huh? When they pass that topic, they then start in again on their "wayward brother", the Monitor who's down talking with Donna and Jason. Hey, what a surprise, we've come back to "We should do something!" "Should we do something?"

So, that whole cover image of Karate Kid teaming up with the JLA? Yeah, this is all it comes to: no JLA. Dr. Mid-Nite from the JSA is here, though. Starman and Dream Girl also here, which is a conclusion to a Justice Society story. The long and short of it is, some of the Legion of Super-Heroes have become displaced in time, and doing so has addled their memories. So they don't actually remember why they're here in the 21st century. The only thing they have to go on is a premonition from Dream Girl, and she's never wrong. So since they don't know why they're here, they're being confined by the JLA until they do know, just to make sure it isn't "kill Sarah Connor" or something.

Anyways, our issue wraps up today with our Monitor, Jason, and Donna teleporting out, having discarded Forerunner and called her all sorts of mean names. Forerunner tears off her braid to sever her physical link to the Monitors, and that's gotta hurt like hell. She says she'll be waiting until they realise they need her, right there on Earth, alone. And we close out with someone else watching her, figuring she's too valuable to cast aside just yet. And it's fucking Monarch. This is all to lead up to a tie-in (Countdown: Arena), but I don't care. The issue's over, we'll discuss Monarch some other time~

Well, this is a dumb issue. Burned two pages recapping the concept of the New Gods, and spent most of the rest of it spinning our wheels on other storylines or the fight between Donna and Forerunner. All to lead up to some tie-in I won't even be covering! But at least Donna and Jason are finally teamed up with the Monitor, so their plotline can get started for real. I'm sure Kyle will catch up soon~

[deyondwashere]

Do you know the myth of the transformation?

(TW: Death and Hanging)

How it begins…how it grows…and how it ends. Let us go back to the beginning yes? Let us go back to the tale of 2 lovers with a bond that was stronger then an inferno

Long ago, no less then 200 years, lived 2 children in the Amilian world. These 2 lived as complete opposite’s in public. The girl with blonde hair and blue eyes with a spunky attitude- held in high regard for her beauty, and the boy with dark black hair and red eyes that stare the deepest pits of your soul. He doesn’t dare to talk to anyone in fear that they’ll attack or run from him. Most people in his town either fear or hate him because his eyes.

In private however, these 2 kept each other company, they were best friends. They both grew up poor, with little to no family to take care of them. Because of this they decided they had to take care of themselves. They’ve known since they were little that the heriarchy would favor her, so they used that to their advantage. She’d steal food and get away with it, she’d speak up for the boy and they would leave him alone. Meanwhile the boy would have to stay in hiding most of the time.

As time went on they realized how corrupt the system was. Being judged on physical features that they cannot change, watching people like the boy starve, be beaten to death in the streets, and even at some points being publicly executed. It was almost never that someone who looked like the girl got in even the slightest bit of trouble. The boy accepted that this was the way that his life was going to be, but the girl had other plans.

“Are you insane?!” The boy asked

“What? Aren’t you tired of living day by day on scrapes? We can change that!” She responded

She told him of a plan to create a world that is free of prejudice, where you can look like whatever you want, and where you can be free to do near everything. She called it “The Transformation.” After a little bit of convincing, the boy agreed to help her.

They started their plan in the streets, asking people if they wanted a reform, a place to be free at the very least. Some of them stopped by the girl but didn’t take interest in her plan. She tried anything and everything that she could…but at the end of the day she was still just a child.

They decided to build a base of operations, if they were going to change their world they needed to start somewhere. Since however they didn’t exactly have anyone else on their side, they used it as a club house of sorts.

Eventually they fell in love. Taking the time to enjoy each others company while building their “dream home” which in reality was just a few stolen wood planks and other makeshift materials. They boy was emotional and vulnerable, however he admired her drive and confidence, so he stayed by her side. He would until the cold and bitter end.

One day, as they were walking to their makeshift hut, they saw smoke rising from the ground. Smoke that was coming from their base. Upon arrival, their once pristine club house was now nothing but burnt support beams and ash. Around were signs threatening and insulting the boy. It was devastating to him. However, this lit a fire under the girl. She was more determined then ever to keep him and everyone else safe from this, and for them to never have to feel that way again.

The girl came up with a plan, her first real plan. “If they’re going to burn down our home, then we’ll burn down theirs.” The boy agreed without hesitation. In the middle of the night she took a torch to the town hall with the boy standing nearby. It lit almost immediately. The townspeople watched in horror as it turned to dust. The boy and the girl ran away giggling and believed that they couldn’t get caught. They were instilled with the false confidence that they were free from punishment. They believed that they weren’t seen. They were wrong.

They took refuge in an abandoned house close to where their base of operations was. The night was full of adrenaline and laughter from the 2. The boy was a little less excited then the girl though. She found it exhilarating, she suggested that they should do it again. He didn’t give a clear answer. In the morning, they awoke to yelling outside the door, it sounded like a mob. Before they could react a officer burst through the door and said the boy was under arrest. They couldn’t fight back. The girl was thrown into a closet and the boy was taken. She was left in there for what felt like hours, she ached to know if the boy was okay. She broke out soon enough and ran to the town center to find and help him.

She was too late.

She found his lifeless body hanging from a rope. He had been hung for his crimes.

She collapsed to the ground. The people walked around her life nothing had happened, as if her best friend meant nothing. It was like they had already completely forgotten about him. All she could do was stare while holding their plan for a new world in her hand.

He didn’t deserve this, it wasn’t his idea. It wasn’t his idea to light the town hall on fire, it wasn’t his idea to be friends with her, and it wasn’t his idea to have those red eye.

Her despair, quickly turned to rage. She saw red. That fire that was lit under her before now turned into an inferno.

She decided to try a new strategy. She figured that if the townspeople wouldn’t except her new world, then those in despairing situations would. Those who have to go day by day wondering where they’ll get their next meal from. Those who have to hide in the shadows in fear because they’re scared of being a target in the spotlight. And those who didn’t get to choose what path their life goes down. Those are the people she went to. She made them believe that they could have a better life. She profited off of the weak, does that make her any better than the people off of the top of the hierarchy? That was a question she wasted little sleep over. At this point she didn’t want to create the transformation for a safe haven for those who were different, she wanted to create it for revenge.

After years of building her forces they finally had a fighting force that was feared. Most people however did not know about them, so she decided to announce their arrival with a bang. In mid daylight, her and her forces stormed the castle leaving no soul left. They wanted to remind the people of what they had done to them. They had left them with nothing but bruises and scrapes, so why should they get anything left behind either?

From here on out the girl got more and more corrupt. She was turning into the very thing that she was against. The transformation was turning into a hierarchy, with the weak being killed and the strong being praised- it was survival of the fitness. Even until her final breath, she still believed she was in the right. If you look at the transformation now you’ll notice that nothing has changed apart from the amount of growth it has experienced. It’s bigger then ever and yet it still hasn’t seen that their original purpose has been lost to time. The transformation is a underground powerful organization that has moved their forces to earth, it seems as if it’s hopeless and eventually they destroy earth for all its worth too. Let’s hope that the people who know and are against the transformation can stop them before that happens.

Crystals, coming soon.

[bookworlders]

and the armor falls

He parried, wincing as Annabeth’s blade dragged across Riptide.

“Don’t go easy on me, Percy,” Annabeth muttered through gritted teeth, pressing forward.

An afternoon sparring at camp with Percy and Annabeth. Set in between titan's curse and battle of the labyrinth.

wc: 1,809 rated: T

~

You come around and the armor falls

Pierce the room like a cannonball

Now all we know is don't let go

We are alone, just you and me

Up in your room and our slates are clean

~

Travis’s sword clattered to the ground with a clang that rang through the sparring arena.

Beckendorf blew his whistle, signaling the end of the round. “Another point to Jackson,” he drawled in a bored voice. 

Percy grinned, wiping sweat off his brow and extending a hand to Travis, currently sprawled on the ground, “Good game, Stoll.”

Travis grumbled, taking Percy’s outstretched hand and tugging himself to his feet, “Really, dude? You had to kick my ass in front of Katie?”

“Sorry, buddy.” Percy wiped the edge of Riptide’s blade on the hem of his camp shirt, “Who’s next?” He looked around the pick-up spar group that had gathered on the lazy weekend afternoon at camp. 

He was met with averted eyes and mutters of “Yeah, no I’m good.” A new Hermes camper, a scrawny boy no more than ten, squeaked and hid behind his sibling when Percy met his eye. 

Beckendorf clapped Percy on the back, “Think we’re done watching you annihilate everyone—”

“I’m up, Jackson.”

Percy turned to see his best friend, Annabeth Chase, storming into the arena, her bronze knife glinting in its holster. 

The group of campers that had begun to disperse was abruptly brought to attention once more. 

Percy grinned, uncapping Riptide, “Sure thing, Chase. Ready to kick your butt any day.

Annabeth’s mouth was set in a hard line as she unsheathed her weapon, “Rules, Beckendorf.”

Charles eyed her cautiously, “Uh, not to the death?” He cleared his throat, “We’ll do first to disarm wins.”

Percy stepped into the ring, twirling Riptide, “You good, Annabeth? I thought you were busy packing today—”

“Enough talking, just get ready to fight,” she cut him off, tightening her ponytail and sinking into a fighting stance.

His eyebrow furrowed as he stared at his best friend, frowning and her shoulders tense, and mirrored her defensive stance. Percy took a deep breath, feeling Riptide’s familiar weight in his palm.

Beckendorf blew the whistle, “Begin!”

Annabeth lunged first.

Clang!

Percy faltered back, instinctively blocking her attack, “Whoa.” Annabeth never initiated the first strike. Like a cobra, Annabeth struck again, her blade slicing through the air before Percy even got his footing.

He parried, wincing as Annabeth’s blade dragged across Riptide.

“Don’t go easy on me, Percy,” Annabeth muttered through gritted teeth, pressing forward.

Annabeth was all strategy, always two steps ahead of her opponent. Training alongside her summer after summer, Percy knew her moves. He knew which arm she favored (her left), how she preferred to fight close to her opponent, how she exhaled right before she struck…

He’d been her battle partner for almost three years now. They fought together effortlessly, like a well rehearsed dance. Their kind of harmony when they were fighting on the same side led to a thrilling challenge when they were opposed. 

That’s why Percy loved sparring with her. He had been going easy with Travis, Michael Yew, and Miranda, who he’d beaten earlier. His best friend gave him a real fight with her quick, precise strikes, the way her nose scrunches up when she’s strategizing, how her curls start to slip out of her ponytail when they get into it…

Percy felt sweat drip down his back. He was breathing hard through his nose now, as Riptide arced through the air straight for Annabeth’s crown. He expected the clash of their blades as she blocked his sword.

It became a game of outwitting and instinct. Percy stopped thinking, knowing Annabeth would know what his next moves would be and let his primal side take over. 

The spectators ooh-ed and gasped when Annabeth’s knife sliced the sleeve of his shirt.

“Watch it, Percy!” Connor stoll yelled from the sidelines. 

“Almost got me there, Wise Girl,” Percy panted, circling Annabeth. 

She scoffed, but didn’t reply, instead lunging toward him again. 

“Let’s go, Annabeth!” Malcolm, her brother, cheered from the group. 

Percy noticed the sheen on her face and how hard she was breathing. For a stakeless game, Annabeth looked too serious. Nothing like their typical sparring sessions, full of banter and witty remarks. In Percy’s opinion, he and Annabeth had their best conversations while sword-fighting. When they trained, it was more for a chance for them to try new moves, have fun, release some pent up tension. 

He’d been disappointed when she turned down his offer to spar earlier that day because she still needed to pack. Spring break was coming to an end and the non-year rounders would return to their mortal parents’ homes or boarding schools.

The air left Percy’s lungs as Annabeth elbowed him in the ribs, taking advantage of his stumble to twist her arm around his and disarm him. Riptide clattered to the ground. 

Beckendorf blew his whistle, and the campers cheered, “Annabeth wins!”

Percy rubbed his rib, turning to shake Annabeth’s hand, but she was already stalking out of the arena.

-

Percy pushed open the screen door to Cabin 6. He appreciated how airy and bright the Athena cabin was, although he always felt slightly unwelcome and awkward there (he figured the goddess didn’t want Posideon’s spawn in her cabin.) The late afternoon rays cast long beams of gold across the rows of bunks and shelves of books.

He found Annabeth hidden in her bunk, back against the wall and knees to her chest. 

“Hey.”

Annabeth said nothing, instead gently patting the spot next to her. 

Percy’s face reddened as he sat on her bed, scooting beside her.

It was a big camp no-no for boys and girls to be alone in other cabins, Percy couldn’t imagine the amount of stables Chiron would make them clean if they were caught alone together on her bed. The thought alone made Percy blush even harder.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said, cheek resting against the arm hugging her knees.

“For?” 

“Kicking your butt.”

“It’s fine,” he shrugged, “Something going on?”

Percy noticed her duffle bag at the foot of her bunk, empty, and the camp t-shirts and clothes still in her full trunk. “I thought you were packing this afternoon?” he said after a moment of no response. 

Annabeth sighed, a really sad, defeated sigh that made Percy want to reach over and hug her (if he could get his arms to move, which was unlikely). 

“I finished packing. And then I unpacked.”

Percy shot her a confused look.

“I got a letter from my step-mom this morning,” Annabeth said, not meeting his eye. She fidgeted with the corner of bedspread. “I didn’t exactly tell you everything that happened before I left.”

Percy had arrived at camp a week prior. Over an Iris message, he’d learned that Annabeth’s spring break lined up perfectly with his at Goode High School. He squashed down the butterflies and nervously agreed when Annabeth suggested they spend spring break at camp together. 

Percy hinted at a couple's getaway to his mother and Paul, and they dropped him off at camp on their way to a bed-and-breakfast upstate. Annabeth flew in from San Francisco the next day.

Percy always got butterflies whenever he saw Annabeth after a long time. She made him so nervous sometimes. But of course, they melted right back into their easy friendship right away during their week of sing-a-longs, training, and catching up with the year-rounders. Break flew by — Sally and Paul were picking up Percy in the morning and Annabeth was supposed to fly back to California. 

“What happened?” Percy nudged her leg with his knee.

“My dad and I were spending the day together — got lunch, went to a museum, we were actually bonding. We decided to go watch Matthew and Bobby’s soccer game, and their coach was a manticore,” Annabeth grumbled. “He attacked during half-time where my step-mom had set up snacks and stuff for the players, but of course with the mist, it just looked like I wrecked it all.”

Percy nodded, he’d been in that position many times, blamed and deemed a troublemaker for the havoc monsters left behind. 

“My dad tried to explain to her that I didn’t smash the table with her plate of orange slices on purpose,” Annabeth continued, “But she was still so angry that I embarrassed her in front of the other soccer moms.” She looked at him, that sad look in her eye, “It was her idea for me to spend the break here. We were supposed to go on a family road trip to Yosemite. They just went without me.”

“I-I’m really sorry, Annabeth.” Percy remembered what it felt like when his mom would send him away before he knew it was only to protect him. It was awful. “What did the letter say?”

Annabeth’s lip quivered, “She said she’d think it’d be best if I just spend the rest of the semester here, and she’ll have my dad ship me whatever I left in San Francisco.”

Percy’s chest felt tight. He hated hated seeing her like this. Without thinking, he put his arm around her shoulder. And to his surprise, Annabeth leaned her head on his shoulder. His heart raced, he hoped she couldn’t hear it. 

“Well, hey, at least you don’t have to do finals anymore,” Percy said, nudging her arm. She shot him a look. “Oh, that’s right. You like finals, you big nerd.”

Annabeth actually cracked a smile. Percy rolled with it, “There were only a few weeks left in the semester anyway. So you just get a head start on summer, I’m jealous. And-and, since you’ll be here in New York we can hang out on the weekends now.”

“You want to hang out on the weekends?”

“Well, uh, duh,” Percy’s blushed, “You can come into the city and we can go see a movie or I could show you the skate park.”

“I’d like that. The people at my school were snobby anyway.”

“Come on,” Percy said, standing up from the bed, “They’re going to ring the dinner bell soon. And we have a sing-a-long tonight.” He held his hand out.

Annabeth took his hand, pulling herself up, “How about a solo tonight, Seaweed Brain? To cheer me up.”

“In your dreams, Wise Girl.” Percy could’ve sworn she was blushing. 

Annabeth let go of his hand, “Come on, that’s the dinner bell.” She pushed open the screen door, stepping outside. Percy followed her. He’d follow her anywhere. 

[just-jordie-things]

A Lover And A Fighter - Richie Tozier

word count: 3122 warnings: swearing, sight sexual harassment summary: Richie promised (y/n) that he wouldn’t get into fights anymore, but sometimes he just can’t help himself.  Especially when it comes to protecting her.

___

It was an understatement to say that Richie was protective of you.  The boy was downright insane about it.  Everyone in Derry knew not to fuck with (y/n), not unless they wanted Richie Tozier tracking them down and beating them half to death.

You’d given him a talk numerous times.  But not once did they work, it always went in one ear and out the other..

He’d beaten up three ex boyfriends, a couple guys that looked at you the wrong way, and Greta Keene.  He was proud of that amount.

But he’d promised that he would try his best not to act out on your behalf anymore.  And you made him pinky promise.  That’s a big deal.  And he didn’t want to break your trust or your promise.

However… once he walked past Henry Bowers and his dumbass friends, and heard your name being mentioned, he couldn’t stop himself from getting involved.

“What was that?” He spoke before he could think things through.

The boys turned to him, each bearing a scowl that wasn’t out of character.

“I said, (y/n’s) not fucking worth it,” Henry practically growled out.  “Now why don’t you fuck off, Tozier?”

“Your damn fucking right it’s not worth it,” Richie spat back, turning away, doing the right thing.  “I’d break your goddamn nose” He muttered under his breath.

“It’s not worth it to try and get in her pants,” Henry called out before Richie could walk far enough away.

He stopped in his tracks.

“Cause she’s such a slut anyways, it’s not a real victory to fuck-”

Richie had never whipped around so fast.  And with the punch he delivered went all common sense, and all the promises and reassurances he’d given you to prove he was going to ‘mature’ as you’d begged him to do. ___

“Hey, Richie,” You held your phone between your ear and shoulder as you painted your toes.  “This is like, my fifth message… so… call me back, I guess.  Okay, bye”

You sighed as you set the phone back on it’s holster.  Richie wasn’t the type of guy to stand you up, especially on taco tuesday.  And even if something came up, he always always, called.  But now he couldn’t even bother to return one of your calls, leaving you to assume that he was upset with you for some reason, and therefore ignoring you.

You weren’t sure what you did, and at this point, you also weren’t sure that he was going to tell you either.

When Richie didn’t want to talk to someone, he was the damn best at avoiding them.

But he’d never given you the cold shoulder.  And there was a time that you’d thought he never would.  Richie was your best friend, you trusted and confided in him more than anyone else, even the other Losers.  And in the last seven years of being his best friend, he’d never treated you this way.  In fact, he always treated you amazingly, like a princess, it was very surprising actually, the way he cared about you.

It was that care that always led him to picking fights where he shouldn’t be, though.  It started with your ex boyfriend.  He broke up with you once a ‘better, prettier’ girl showed interest (his words), and the next thing you knew, Richie was throwing him against the lockers.

When your next boyfriend straight up cheated on you, Richie took care of him too.

He broke the third one’s nose.

And then there was the Greta Keene incident… Beverly may have let it slip that Greta had been writing nasty rumors about you in the girls bathrooms.  And Richie declared that he didn’t have a problem beating up a girl if it was justified (and if that girl had man arms).  That was when you drew the line, and made Richie swear to try and control his anger.  And he pinkie promised to work on it, and that he wouldn’t get into any more fights over you.

You weren’t sure why he got so enraged over these things.  It was just drama, and you found it pointless that he tried to bring you justice, since he was so reckless about it.

It was getting late, and you knew that Richie wasn’t going to return your calls.  So you finished painting your toenails blue, and decided to spend the night in your room, reading, alone.

Even though you should have been eating a bunch of tacos and gossiping with Richie.

Just as you got situated in bed, and had turned off the overhead light in exchange for the soft glow of your lamp on the bedside table, there was a knock on the window.

When you glanced over, you could tell it was Richie by his silhouette, and you frowned slightly.

Nonetheless, you got up and unlocked the window, before sliding it open.

“Where the hell have you been?” You asked.

He could tell that you couldn’t see his face very well.

“Busy, you gonna let me in?” He grinned.

“Richie, it’s-” You glanced over your shoulder to the alarm clock on your table, before glaring back at him.  “-midnight.  Are you kidding me? Did I do something to piss you off?”

“What? (y/n/n), no-”

“Then how come you were dodging all my calls? And you’re seven hours late?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest..

Richie crawled in through the window, even though you hadn’t invited him in yet.  But he figured it was only a matter of time before you cave anyways.

Your distressed face disappeared as you caught sight of him now that he was in the light.  His left eye was bruising, and so was his right cheekbone.  Along with a split lip and a bloody nose, it was clear what had happened.

“Oh, Richie…” You mumbled, hand reaching up to cover your mouth as your eyes widened at the sight of him.  “Tell me you didn’t-”

“Look it’s not what you think-” Richie tried to protest.

“Don’t give me that shit”

He knew he fucked up, because you weren’t yelling.  Your voice was soft, and low.  You were heartbroken.

He stared down at the ground, too anxious to look at you anymore.  Not when you looked so disappointed in him.  

“You promised- you-you pinky promised me-”

“I know-! I know and I’m sorry, really, I’m really fucking sorry” He told you, desperately hoping that you’d forgive him.

You shook your head at him, and gestured for him to sit before you left the room.  Richie was the most frustratingly complicated person that you knew, and it drove you insane.  Why he couldn’t just walk away and not beat the shit out of people… you weren’t sure.  But it really hurt you that he didn’t even seem to try, and he broke his promise.

Richie was sitting on the side of your bed when you came back into the room.  He chuckled as he eyed the first aid kit in your hands, the same one that you’ve used the last four or five times you dealt with the aftermath of his episodes of rages.

“You don’t have t-”

“Yes I do” You cut him off and unpacked what you’d need.

You were upset, you were fuming, actually.  It angered you that Richie broke his promise, not even a month after making it.  That promise was important to you, because he was important to you.  And now here he was, waiting to be fixed up by you once again after he so stupidly, so recklessly got himself beaten to a pulp.

But no matter how angry you were, you remained silent.  Dabbing at the excess blood under his nose, which at least wasn’t bleeding anymore.  And when you were finished with his cheek, you moved on to rubbing cream over the bruise on his cheek.  Richie’s eyes fell shut as he sighed in relief at the feeling of the cool lotion, and your gentle fingers.

He knew your silence wasn’t a good thing.  In fact, it was the worst thing.  It meant he messed up beyond redemption.  And he’d never fucked up that bad before.  Sure, he’d pissed you off and frustrated you on the daily, but that was just the hallmark of his friendship, and it was never anything serious.  Just when he dragged you out in the middle of the night for slushies, or got you in trouble in class because he was running his mouth.  He’d never made you this genuinely upset before.

“(y/n)-”

“Save it” You muttered before he could even start with the apologies.

That was another hallmark of his friendship.  You knew what came next.  The apologies, the excuses, the begging for your forgiveness, followed by a playful ‘you know you love me, you need me’ and puppy dog eyes that you couldn’t refuse.  Except tonight, you might just be able to.

He took you by surprise when he didn’t protest, and snapped his mouth shut.  Your eyes met his for a moment, before you started applying a smaller amount of lotion on the bruise surrounding his eye.  It was going to look a lot worse in the morning, but this would help with the pain now.

You hated that your heart ached for him right now.  You hated that you wanted to cry and hold him and make him feel better.  Because you were so fucking mad-

“I don’t understand,” The words suddenly spilled out of your mouth, as if your mind just couldn’t take them swimming around in your head anymore.  “I just- I- I don’t fucking get it”

He nodded, ducking his head down, only for you to lift it back up by his chin and continue with the lotion.

“I care about you, dumbass, and all I asked, which I thought was simple, all I asked was for you to stop with the fighting-”

“I know” He mumbled back.

You stared at him skeptically, wondering if he really did know, or if he’d show up again in a few weeks with the same battered face and guilty look in his eyes.  Richie didn’t look back at you.  He couldn’t.

“Who?” You asked, trying to soften your voice so he wouldn’t whither away from you like he was doing right now.

“You’re not gonna like it” Richie answered, fingers pinching at your bedsheets in an attempt to distract himself.  From the pain that burned across his whole face, or from the intensity in your eyes, he wasn’t sure, but he needed the distraction.

He hadn’t had a smoke in months, but it sounded pretty damn good right now.

“Well, newsflash, I don’t like any of this,” You told him.  “But I think I deserve to at least know what happened”

Of course you do, Richie hung his head in his hands.  You deserve so, so much better.

You watched as he rubbed his palms over his eyes, and it took everything in your power not to take his hands and hold them in yours, to tell him it was okay and you forgave him.

“Bowers”

He muttered the single word without even looking at you.  But he didn’t have to look at you to know exactly what you looked like in that moment.  You probably had a dropped jaw and furrowed brows.  Disappointment, disgust, anger, all displayed in one heartbreaking look.

“Richie…” You murmured without meaning to.  “Why? Why would you-”

“I had to, okay?” He shot up suddenly.  “I know that you hate it, and as soon as I swung I- I knew I fucked up, but I had to”

You wanted to argue it, argue that there’s always another option, that he can always walk away.  But you bit your tongue.  Something about the way he spoke told you that there was more to this than his stupidity.

“I’m sorry, (y/n/n), I am.  But I… I don’t regret it”

Your heart sunk all the way down to your stomach.  Richie had such a toll on your emotions and he didn’t even know it.

“Tell me what happened” You said quietly, and shifted closer to him.

You wanted him to know he had your undivided attention, and that he should have the chance to at least explain what happened.  You pulled your leg up to rest on the mattress, and turned your body to face him.

Richie looked at you before looking back down at his hand, which was now fisted in your blankets.

“Richie,” You hummed, brows furrowing as you saw how reluctant he was to opening up.  “Tell me” The words were so soft, it was almost inaudible.

You wondered what Henry could have done that Richie didn’t want to tell you about.  He must have really outdone himself.

“He was just talking shit-”

“Richie,” You cut off his bullshit before he could even start.  “Come on, the truth”  

“It’s not-”

“I deserve to know, Tozier! Whatever it is, I don’t care, okay? Just tell me-”

“He said you weren’t worth sleeping with!”

Just like that, you’d gotten him to snap.

And you shut up instantly, shocked by the outburst.  His words processed slowly in your head.

“He said it wasn’t worth trying because you’re- because you’re a slut, and it wasn’t fucking true!” Richie continued to yell.  Not at you, he just couldn’t contain his own anger anymore.

And you thought you were pissed.

“Motherfucker had your name in his nasty fucking mouth and he was telling his buddies fucking lies and I couldn’t- fuck I couldn’t walk away.  I should’ve fucking killed him”

You were staring at him, speechless.  You should’ve known it was about you, Richie was always so fiercely protective of you.  And Henry’s wouldn’t be the first nose that he’d broken protecting you.  But this wasn’t like before.  He’d beaten on your ex boyfriends after they broke your heart.  Henry hadn’t said or done anything to you, he was just doing what boys do.  (Make shit up because they think it makes them impressive when really they’re even shittier than they look)

“I didn’t mean to break your promise,” Richie huffed.  His face was slightly flushed after his mini tantrum.  His hands grabbed both of yours, holding them close to him.  “I’m so sorry I put you through this again”

You were still silent, but he knew this wasn’t a bad silence.  You were still processing, still trying to figure out how to forgive him while making sure this was the last time he crawls through your window looking like this.

“I hope you know that it came from a place of- of caring about you,” He added.  “Caring about you too much, I guess” He mumbled as an afterthought.

Your stupid lovesick heart skipped a beat at the sweet words.  Richie wasn’t one for words, at all, but he somehow managed to say the most loving things without even realizing it.

“I can’t promise it won’t happen again, that much is clear.  And if Bowers says one more goddamn thing about your ass I’ll fucking string him up- I will- but I can promise I’ll try, okay? I will, I’ll really try”

He squeezed your hands a little bit, hoping you believed him, hoping you trusted him.

Your eyes flickered between his for a moment, and you could see in them that he was being sincere, and that he was broken up over hurting you.

“You…” He started to speak, but trailed off unsurely.  “You deserve better” He finished.

His eyes flickered to yours for a brief moment, before he turned away.

You shake your head, before you let go of one of his hands, and took his chin between your thumb and index finger, turning him to look back at you.

“(y/n/n)-”

You cut him off when you leaned in and gently kissed him, trying to be mindful of his split lip.

Richie’s eyes remained focused on your closed ones, too stunned to close them, or really kiss her back.

He wanted to kick himself when you pulled away.  He managed to miss his fucking chance because he was too slow to do anything about it.

Your eyes fluttered open in such a beautiful way Richie swore you were holding his heart in your perfect little hands.

His brows were furrowed like you’d confused him, and you absolutely had.  He hadn’t expected you to kiss him.

“Why’d you do that?” He asked breathlessly, and your cheeks burned pink.

Your shoulders raised a bit in a shrug, and you had to bite your lip to keep from smiling too much.

“I just… wanted to” You whispered.

A smile twitched on the corner of Richie’s lips before his hand cupped your cheek, and he pulled you in again, so he could kiss you right this time.

Your lips were just as soft, if not softer, than he’d imagined they’d be.  And he’d imagined countless times what they’d feel like.  Daydreaming in class, before he fell asleep, and being right by your side for the last seven years.

Kissing you was bliss.

He did it again, taking your face in both of his hands and pulling you impossibly closer.  He could feel your lips smiling against his own, and once again, his heart was beating out of his chest trying to get to yours.

“I’m in love with you, (y/n/n)” He murmured when you parted, and you laughed softly.

“That makes sense,” You replied, reaching a hand up to play with the curls on the back of his neck.  “And… I love you too”

Richie gave you a sunshine smile, which you couldn’t help but return.

“I’m still upset, by the way,” You told him, still playing with the curls.  “But only cause I’m tired of seeing you covered in bruises, okay?”

He nodded, and you leaned your cheek further against the palm of his hand.

“I promise to try” He said, and then raised his pinky.

You looked from his hand and then back to him, a slight glare in your eyes.

“Come on, just do it,” He urged, you rolled your eyes, but he was persistent.  “Just link fuckin’ pinkies with me”

With a giggle you hooked your pinky with his, and held it for a moment.

“You want to go get tacos now?” He asked, and you grinned, nodding your head.

“You read my mind” You answered, and followed him back out the window.

It dawned on you that Richie was both your lover and your fighter.  And he held those titles proudly.

As he took your hand and walked alongside you down the street, he decided there were no other title he’d want to be labeled, besides yours. ___

taglist: @thegr8kush​

xoxo ~ jordie

[thebatfamfanatic]

Six Times He Met Her

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, guy taking advantage of a minor in first chap, mention of underage smut in fourth chap, making out?, violence, mentions of blood/injury, main character death, adult language, angst

A/N: First thing I’ve written on Tumblr!! Tell me if anybody likes it, or if I broke your heart. And yes, I know I’m evil.

1-

The first time he saw you was around 2:30 in the morning. Jason was squatting on the edge of a rooftop in Gotham, surveying the dark scenery below him.

Somehow, there was still plenty of traffic on the dirty streets, plenty of cars honking and driving around. Jason always wondered who the fuck needed to be somewhere at 2 am.

He fiddled with a loose seam on the Robin uniform he sported each night, hunting down the assholes of Gotham (pretty much 70% of the city) and putting them in jail, where they belonged.

At 16, Jason Todd technically should have been in bed, maintaining a healthy sleep schedule and doing some rich kid shit during the day. Of course, his adoptive (long story) father, Bruce Wayne, richest playboy in Gotham, employed him to be his little tweety bird sidekick at night, so here he was, at the rendezvous watching the streets. yay. A scream came from an alley nearby. Jason stood, stretched his legs, and leaped down from the roof onto the ground. He pinpointed the alleyway where the noise was coming from and raced into it. A girl, about his age, had been cornered by some bitch dude who thought he could take advantage of this girl. Not on Robin’s watch.

Before the girl could scream again, the guy was on the ground and Jason was helping her up. She shakily took the hand he offered her and looked him in the eye. Shit, she had gorgeous eyes. Jason froze for a second, lost in her beauty, before clearing in his throat.

“Hi. I’m Robin, uh, you probably knew that. Are you okay, ma’am?”

He hated the squeak that came out of his mouth. He sounded like a fucking 5 year old. The girl raised her eyebrow. She had recovered rather quickly. “You don’t have to call me ma’am. I’m not some rich-ass royal whatever from Britain.” Jason liked this one. Sassy, but just so. He inquired where she lived, and she gave him the address. With his grappling hook at the ready, Jason pulled her closer to him. She jumped at the sudden closeness, but seemed to enjoy it. Maybe? He didn’t know shit about girls.

Jason shot the hook, propelling them up in the air, and landed on a rooftop. They continued this routine until he got in front of her house. It was still several seconds before he released her waist.

She started to walk towards her door, before stopping.

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Sorry, what?” Jason blinked.

“I thought you were smart, Robin. Its my name, dumb ass.”

Then Y/N disappeared into her house. Jason stood there foolishly outside on her front lawn for a while, thinking about the girl he had just met. She was unlike anyone he had ever met, and he realized 10 minutes later that he had forgotten to ask about where her family was and everything.

Oh well. Bruce would be expecting him anyways. Jason shot his grappling hook and started home, still dazed from the encounter.

2-

The second time you guys met was two weeks later. Jason was just Jason Todd, a normal 10th grader living in the shadow of his (adopted) older brother Dick Grayson. Nobody paid much attention to him, and he didn’t really mind. Mostly Jason focused on getting A’s in class and then retreating into the library until Golden Boy’s after school clubs were over.

That is, until you walked in. It sounded as if you had just moved here, and for a minute, Jason felt a little sorry for you. I mean, Gotham wasn’t the greatest place to spend high school, or any grade, in his opinion.

You looked at your schedule from across the hall and then up at the locker next to him. For a second, your eyes met his and Jason was content. Lost in those brilliant colors. And then you looked away and started walking towards him. He realized just in time maybe he should stop leaning over your locker as you stopped next to him.

“Hi. Y/N. Just moved here. Looks like we’re locker neighbors.”

Jason was about to reply with “I know” but restrained himself. “Jason. Nice to meet you. Congrats on moving to this shitshow.”

He managed to not grin like an idiot as you laughed. The sound was music to his ears, like beautiful bells. God, he was being sappy.

“It’s not much of a shitshow when you’re here.” Ooh, she flirts too. Jason smirked as you opened your locker and dumped your stuff inside, pulling out the things you needed for your first class.

The first bell shrieked just as you closed your locker. “See you around, Jason.”

The small smile you gave him made his day, and he almost forgot to get to class. Yes, you were certainly one of a kind, and yes, Jason wanted you. The question was how to get to that point.

3-

You guys had a couple classes together, and frequently sat at the same table during lunch, so it wasn’t long before you were quick friends with Jason. However, the next notable time you met was a little while after he got your number.

Jason was laying on his bed, scrolling mindlessly through Tumblr as he thought about ways to ask you out.

Y/N, would you grant me the honor of going out with me? No, too Romeo and Juliet.

Hey, want to grab ice cream? He had to make it clear what his intentions were. Then it wouldn’t be weird if he kissed you, right?

Oh, god, if he fucking kissed you….what would that be like? Before Jason could start fantasizing, his fingers were flying across the keyboard and he had sent a text to you. What did he do, what did he-

Hey, I was wondering if you’d like to see that new movie this weekend. It seems like something you would enjoy.

Hm. That was actually pretty good. Where did he come up with that?

Jason had just started inspecting his fingers for some kind of sign of being possessed by smooth-with-girls-syndrome when you responded. He looked up and read it quickly.

Sure, I’d love that! Thanks for thinking of me ❤️

A heart. You had put a heart at the end of it. Did that mean you knew it was a date?

Jason sighed. He certainly hoped so.

4-

The weekend date went good. By the end of it, Jason was sure you knew it was a date. The second one passed, and then the third. The third one was when you hesitantly pecked him on the cheek. The fourth was when he kissed you actually. It wasn’t a long kiss, but it was just enough for him to take you on a fourth date. An actual “will you go out with me on a date” kind of thing.

He took you to a restaurant in the fancy part of things. You two ate food that two broke 16 year olds technically shouldn’t have been able to afford, but Bruce helped Jason out.

Jason drove you home afterwards and discussed the topic of the upcoming summer during the car ride. What you were doing, where he was going. The entire time, Jason had butterflies in his stomach. He wasn’t sure how to act. Was he messing it all up, or were you actually into him?

Once he parked in front of your house and walked you up to the stoop, you looked at him. He noticed you were biting your lip nervously, and god, why did he think that was so hot? “My parents aren’t home.” It was the softest Jason had ever heard you speak, but he knew what you meant. He smiled gently, and kissed you again. This one was destined to last longer, and before either of you realized it, you had opened your door and you were leading him to your bedroom.

That night was one neither of you would forget, and by the end of it, Jason had officially asked out successfully.

5-

You and Jason spent a lot of time together after that. You met his older brother, Dick (who was very happy for Jason, too happy in his opinion) and his dad, Bruce Wayne. Bruce was cool, but very busy all the time.

By two months, Jason still hadn’t told you his identity as Robin, and he was running out of excuses. One day, you confronted him, assuming he was cheating on you. He tried everything, but he had to go out on patrol.

Jason left that night assuming you were broken up. The entire patrol, he wasn’t himself. Truth was, he loved you so much he was afraid of losing you. That had become his greatest fear. It was that night everything went wrong.

6-

You were out taking a late night walk. Down by the pier, a cold wind was blowing, and as you walked past warehouse after warehouse, you pulled your coat tighter.

You were affected as well, and confused about where you and your boyfriend stood. Did you guys just breakup? Did he love you? Did–

A scream echoed from one of the warehouses. You turned, afraid of stepping closer but afraid of leaving the person. Eventually, your curiosity won over and you climbed up several crates to peer into the window.

What you saw inside almost made you scream yourself. Robin, the hero everybody talked about, lay defenseless and bloody on the ground as a tall man-the Joker- whacked him over and over again with a crowbar.

You gasped, wanting to help, but you knew that would be foolish. You would just get in the way for a minute. Tears started to form in your eyes as Robin weakly cried out from the pain. He looked so…helpless.

Joker relentlessly beat him with the crowbar, and Robin’s mask began to come off. You rubbed the tears from your eyes just as the mask fell to the ground.

“No.” was the only thing that you could muster. Jason lay on the ground in the bloody Robin suit. Jason fucking Todd. There was your boyfriend, being beaten to death by the asshole of all assholes. That was why he kept disappearing at night, because he fucking protected the city!

You were mad at yourself for being so cruel to Jason without knowing what was really going on. You barely paid attention as Batman and Nightwing suddenly burst through the windows.

Joker laughed, and said something you couldn’t hear from the outside. Probably taunting Batman as he watched his apprentice get beat to death.

A fight broke out, Batman lunging at Joker as Nightwing rushed to Jason, laying broken on the ground. You had just enough time to duck as a Batarang came swooping out of the hands of the Caped Crusader and straight through the window you were looking through.

It was then you realized how close Jason was to death, and what you needed to do. The window pricked your jacket as you jumped through it, but you didn’t care. Gymnastics back in 6th grade helped when you landed awkwardly. Nightwing spun around, and it wasn’t hard to figure out that was Dick, which meant Bruce was Batman.

However, none of that mattered when Jason was half dead in front of you. Nightwing- Dick- made no effort to stop you as you knelt in front of Jason. “No, no, no.” You cradled his head in your hands, trying hard not to recognize how limp his body was, and how his chest barely moved as he struggled to breathe.

Jason’s eyes were closed, tears running down his face silently. You were crying as well, mumbling curses and things that made no sense.

“Please, don’t be dead. Please, I-I love you.”

You watched Jason make no acknowledgement he could hear you, watched him breathe once more. His chest rose and never fell.

You screamed and buried your head in his costume, not caring about getting blood on your face. Dick pulled you away wordlessly, out of the warehouse. You barely registered that the warehouse exploded behind you a few seconds later.

Dick let you sob into his shoulder for what seemed like hours. Him and Bruce exchanged a short conversation, both riddled with grief.

Six times you and Jason had met, and that was the last.

[five-rivers]

If you're taking prompt what if Inko was the daughter of AfO and Izuku still gets OfA later. But he has fire breath like his dead beat dad thanks to his grandfather. Teach him for running out on his baby girl.

It had taken long enough that his minions were in need of a serious reprimand, but finally Midoriya Hisashi was sprawled on the ground at All for One's feet. He was suitably beaten, bound, and blindfolded, but alive, as requested.

"Hello, Hisashi. I suppose you didn't think you'd ever see me again." He used the man's first name, because he didn't care to associate his daughter's surname with this sniveling waste of space, even if he had legally adopted it at their farce of a wedding.

Hisashi froze. A whisper of smoke leaked past his lips.

"I wonder, do you even recognize my voice?"

"Shi- Shigaraki..."

"Oh, very good!" All for One clapped his hands in a show of false cheer. "So! You remember your father-in-law, but not your wife? Not your son?"

"I- I-"

"Because amnesia is the only acceptable excuse I can think of for abandoning them and trying to move all the way to Hokkaido. Unless you'd like to try a different one." All for One paused, and the silence stretched out before him, thin and brittle, much like Hisashi's bones. "I'm waiting."

"It- it isn't my fault," whined the man. "And I- I was always going to send money back. I just- I just can't live there anymore. I- Shouldn't you be pleased about this? You hated me and Inko get-"

All for One kicked Hisashi sharply. "Don't even say her name. I did hate your sham of a marriage. But as long as it made her happy, I put up with it."

Hisashi wheezed, more smoke filling the air of the disused underground parking garage they were meeting in.

"Speak clearly," demanded All for One.

"It- the boy. He's quirkless. I could- couldn't stay, with everyone knowing."

"Oh?" said All for One, voice suddenly silky smooth. He bent over and put his hand on top of Hisashi's head. "Well, lucky for you, that's something I can fix."

.

All for One dropped Hisashi on one of Garaki's carefully polished operating tables. "Make him into something interesting," he ordered, and Garaki scrambled to examine his new materials.

Meanwhile, All for One took a seat in one of Garaki's rolling chair. "I simply don't understand it," he said. "Who leaves their family just because they had a quirkless child? Unbelievable."

Of course, All for One had seen similar things many times before in his long life and knew they happened very well. He simply failed to understand. With his brother, even when he'd actively been trying to dismantle his empire... Destroying other people made sense, but family was special.

"He should be pleased by this outcome, really. Izuku won't be quirkless for much longer."

"You- you're giving him a quirk, my lord?"

"Yes," said All for One. "This fool's quirk, to be precise. And perhaps his grandmother's. I'll miss it, of course, but to be honest, I don't really use it the way it should be."

"But," said Garaki, "my lord, I've already diagnosed the boy as quirkless."

"Then you'll just have to practice your groveling for when you apologize to them." He paused. "Surely you aren't concerned about the medical reputation of a throwaway identity?"

"Not at all, my lord," said Garaki in a way that indicated extreme dissatisfaction.

All for One ignored him.

.

"Kacchan! Kacchan! Guess what? Guess what?"

"Go away, nerd!"

Izuku was undeterred. "I got my quirk!"

Kacchan scowled mightily. "No you didn't! You were dig-dag-dignoz-" The frown became mightier. "The doctor said you were quirkless, stupid deku!"

"The doctor was wrong! Watch! Watch!" He puckered his lips and a small tongue of flame emerged from between them. "And that's not it!" He pointed at a stunned Kacchan and a small gust of wind ruffled his hair. "I can do that, too! Mama said it's just like gramma's!"

"That's- you- You're still not better than me!"

"I know!" said Izuku, cheerfully.

"Hm, I don't know," said another one of the students watching, "Deku can do two things, and Bakugo just explodes..."

Bakugo's shriek of rage was audible throughout the entire preschool.

.

"Two quirks, Dad? Two? TWO? After everything you drilled into my head about how dangerous it was to give people multiple quirks? What were you thinking?" demanded Inko.

"Hardly anyone dies from just two quirks," said All for One, "and he retained the family adaptation for accepting multiple quirks, the risk was-"

"Not. Yours. To. Take." Inko punctuated each word with a jab to the chest, then sat down heavily in the nearest chair. "I hope you understand. I am furious with you."

"Inko, princess-"

Inko held up her hand. "No. If I see Izuku with another quirk, I will kill you. Do you understand? No warning, no third chances. If you're a threat to my son, you're dead."

"Perfectly," said All for One, choosing not to mention the longevity quirks all three of them had.

.

Watching illegally obtained footage of his grandson's entrance exam was and excellent way to unwind after a long and stressful day of being unspeakably evil.

Right up until the part where Izuku destroyed a giant robot by punching it to bits.

The heartrate monitor he was attached to unhelpfully informed him that his had skyrocketed. He had never told Inko about One for All. The entrance exam had taken place hours ago.

"Kurogiri!" he called. "Kurogiri?"

No response.

"Hello, Dad."

.

Izuku's acceptance into UA was marred by news of his grandfather's sudden death. He had been getting older, but he always sounded so full of life when they talked on the phone.

After the service, Izuku lingered by the grave. He reached into his jacket pocket and took out a small booklet, a copy of a vintage comic his grandfather had gotten him into. He put it down by the headstone.

"I was always too embarrassed to tell you this," he said, softly, "but the real reason I started to want to be a hero... it wasn't that old All Might video. It was this." He tapped the cover of the comic. "The way the hero never gave up..." Izuku sniffed. "It was just really inspiring." He wiped tears away from his face. "I'll make you proud. I promise. I'll be the best hero there ever was!"

.

In America, a woman named Morticia Roll paused. Her rather niche quirk was the ability to know who would be spinning in their graves the most, if people were able to spin in their graves.

Most of the time, that honor belonged to some random European dude. But Shigaraki Hiroshi sounded Asian... She shrugged and went back to her gardening. Whatever was happening, it wasn't any of her business.

[randomshyperson]

Left Behind - Chapter 6 - Once a Promise, Always a Promise.

Gif was made by my official gif maker friend @abimess

Summary: The one where you lived in the apartment under the Maximoff family in Sokovia, or, your journey as a Sokovian civilian to Avenger.

Warnings: (+16) Violence, fighting, cursing, civil war environments, abuse of power, assault, torture, underage kissing, psychological torture, substance use, mention of assault/fighting of children, smut, kissing, teasing, insinuation of sexual and moral harassment, verbal offenses.

Words: 4.753k

A/N> It's been 84 years... I just hope someone still reads this haha Let me know what you think

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Chapter 6 - Once a Promise, Always a Promise.

When you wake up, you get your ass beaten up by an unknown woman.

You awaken all at once, advancing against the woman who was watching you sleep. Her surprise only lasts a second, however, as the next she returns your blow and knocks you to the ground, a gun pointed straight at your face.

Wide-eyed, you realize where you are and raise your hands.

"Sorry, sorry." You can quickly. "I thought I was in the lab again. Who the hell are you by the way?"

The woman raises her eyebrow at you.

"Cap, get over here before I shoot her."

And the next second, a blond man is running into the area of the ship where you are, looking worried.

"Let's all calm down, okay?" He asks as he sees the gun extended, and waits for the woman to put it down. You sigh lightly, rising to stand up.

"I'm sorry I attacked you, Miss." You ask as soon as you are on your feet, and massage your shoulder, which hit the ground hard when she knocked you down.

"It's fine, you just got beat up anyway." She teases, making you give a short laugh.

You were about to ask if they could let you off the ship anywhere, but a low groan of pain beside you caught your attention.

Just then you noticed the man lying on the stretcher next to you a few feet away, a large wound in his rib. You are also able to notice the rest of the ship, there is a man piloting a few meters away, and two men sitting further ahead, talking to each other.

"Hey, I can help." You stated immediately, but as soon as you moved, the woman stood in front of you, looking at you with suspicion and defiance, and you swallowed dryly. "I-I can heal him." You clarified, but the woman only changed her posture when the man next to you touched her forearm.

"Can you do that?" He asks you, and you nod. You wait for the woman to take a step back to approach the man on the stretcher.

"Hey, are you guys sure of this?" The man lying down asked uncomfortably, and you raise your hands in the air.

"Hi, I'm Y/N, I won't hurt you, I promise. "You guarantee it." Can I heal your injuries?" You ask and wait for him to confirm.

The wound is deep, but you have dealt with much worse.

"How did you do that?"

"It was nothing." You say as you put your hands down. His skin was completely intact again.

"This sure is cooler than lightning, huh, Thor?" Commented the blond as he sat down on the stretcher, clearly feeling better. The long-haired man at the back of the ship looks at you curiously as he stands up, and when he notices his colleague completely healed, he looks impressed.

"This sure is an interesting skill for a mortal." He says to you, and you don't know exactly what to make of those words, but you don't have time to comment, because he is already approaching to introduce himself. "My name is Thor Odinson, god of thunder."

You frown.

"G-god of thunder?" You repeat confused. "Sorry, is that some kind of joke?"

The woman next to you giggles, moving to sit on the stretcher next to the man you healed. The blond man in front of you looks slightly offended, but his expression softens immediately.

"I understand that at first, mortals may be incredulous at such a..."

"No, I just thought the title was funny." You interrupt the blond man, surprising him. "You guys are the Avengers, aren't you? My master has already told me about you."

“Your master?”

It is the other blond guy in the blue uniform who asks. You mentally repress yourself.

"Damn, sorry." You say. "It's what I used to call the soldiers and doctors who gave me orders."

"Your files say that you disappeared in Sokovia when you were younger, and what we found at the base were the records of the experiments they did on you." He adds, and you twiddle your fingers nervously. "I just want to make sure you're not going to try to bring the plane down with everyone inside."

The attempted joke is enough to make you smile, but you are beginning to feel overwhelmed. You really were free. After all this time, the idea seemed almost absurd.

You try to control your emotion at once, and the man seems to notice, because his expression softens immediately.

"Hey, come have a seat." He asks, signaling to one of the empty chairs, and you obey. "My name is Steve Rogers, and I promise you're safe now. Hydra will never hurt you again."

You nod frantically, feeling the tears in your eyes. But you try to normalize your breathing, not wanting to cry in front of strangers.

"I'm sorry, I just... I've just been trying to get away for so long." You confess next, wiping your eyes quickly. "It's weird to think I succeeded."

"We are going back to the Avengers tower now. Is there anyone you would like to get in touch with?" He asks, and his words make your stomach sink.

"Yes." You say. "But I have no idea where they are."

"Who? Your family?"

You give a short laugh.

"Yeah, I guess so. They were..." You start trying to remember exactly. You didn't even know how long it had been since the time you saw the twins at the Hydra base. You had no idea if they were alive, but you wanted to believe they were. Taking a deep breath, you continue. "They were my friends. Wanda and Pietro, we grew up together. They... I saw them once. When I still had the serum in my head. I..."

Seeing your difficulty in organizing your thoughts, Steve interrupts you by touching your forearm.

"It's okay." He says. "We'll find the twins."

"So they really are alive?"

Steve smiles.

"Yes." He answers and you feel your body relax all at once. "They ran away, I imagine they were scared, but we'll find them."

You gasp, unable to control your tears. Neither Steve nor the rest of the Avengers seem to care.

When you calm down, Steve introduces you to the rest of the team.

You are not exactly happy to meet Tony Stark. The mention of his last name makes you frown, because you know it was a Stark bomb that blew up your home at Sokovia, but when you accuse Tony, he seems really upset.

"Well, I guess you can get on the list of people who hate me then." He grumbles and you cross your arms, the whole team sensing the tension in the air.

"You could at least apologize for blowing up half of Sokovia with your weapons." You retort angrily, and the man rolls his eyes, not getting up from the armchair you were in.

"Sure, no problem. I'm sorry, kiddo. Happy?"

You clench your jaw, but before you can say anything, Steve steps forward.

"Tony, try not to be a jerk, okay?" The captain speaks and the other man lets out a wry laugh. "Have at least some respect for the girl's story."

"I have respect, Captain." He assures as he stands up, looking impatient. "What I don't have is time to revisit the past while our enemies get more and more powerful." He says and you frown in confusion. "I've already banned weapons production in the industries, and we've already taken on Hydra in that place. Now we can move on, because I need to get back to the compound and understand exactly what that thing is."

He speaks and finishes by signaling to the opposite side, and it is only then that you notice the shining scepter on the far side of the room and let out a surprised exclamation, taking three steps backwards.

"How did you guys get this?" You ask horrified and the team looks at you curiously.

"Have you seen the scepter before?"

"Of course I have!" You reply. "That's what gave me the healing! The damn stone went through my chest."

Thor steps forward, looking at you in surprise.

"So Hydra were able to decipher the scepter?

You laugh humorlessly.

"If by decipher you mean press the scepter against my chest while preening me in an iron chair, then yes." You reply, but take a deep breath to calm yourself. "A yellow stone came off as soon as the scepter touched me. And well, it went right through my skin. When I woke up, I could heal. But whatever it is, it killed all the soldiers who were holding me."

Thor seems to consider your words as Steve tells you that he is sorry for what you went through in Hydra.

Suddenly you remember where you first saw him.

"The man on the bridge!" You exclaimed, surprising him, but you were getting your memories gradually, and your heart was racing. "You are Captain America.... My god, where is Bucky?"

"Great, another fan of the metal arm." Tony comments sarcastically, but no one seems to care.

Steve looks at you with a frown.

"Is he safe? Is he free? Can I see him?" You ask promptly next, and Natasha chuckles.

"Hey, calm down." Steve asks and you swallow dryly, trying not to feel so overwhelmed with so many memories coming back at once. "How do you know Bucky?"

You blink in surprise.

"He...he didn't talk about me?"

It takes a second, and then Steve's eyes widen.

“Oh my god, you’re the guardian!

"I am what now?"

Steve lets out an incredulous laugh.

"The guardian." He repeats as if you were going to understand what he meant.

Natasha clears her throat.

"Captain, perhaps you'd better explain." She asks and Steve gestures quickly.

"We've been looking for you for months." Steve then adds, causing you to widen your eyes in surprise. "Bucky he... he's been trying to find you since he escaped. But he didn't know your name. All he knew was the nickname you got from the soldiers. The golden guardian of death. It's been our only tip to find you."

"I thought it was just golden guardian." Clint adds next, Nat makes a noise of agreement.

"No, I'm sure it was just Guardian of Death." Thor comments, but you are barely listening to the teasing, feeling your thoughts racing.

Steve raises his hands to your shoulders.

"Thank you so much for saving Bucky." He says before hugging you. You feel your neck heat up at the sudden contact, but do your best to reciprocate.

Steve lets you go then, smiling.

"He's going to be so happy to see you."

"Where is he?"

"At the compound." Steve replies. "He cannot attend field missions, it's part of the pardon. It's too much bureaucracy to explain now.."

"I think he's just lazy." Tony adds wryly, making the Avengers giggle.

And Steve's smile dies briefly.

"What's with you today, anyway, Stark?"

Tony sighs impatiently, finally rising from his armchair.

"I'm sorry if I'm not reacting in the way you consider proper captain, but I'm concerned about getting to work soon." He says as he moves toward you two. “I need to find out what this thing really is.”

"No, Stark, you won't touch this." It is Thor who announces, and all the avengers look genuinely surprised.

"I beg your pardon?" Stark retorted, but Thor didn't hesitate before he looked at you next.

"Describe to me again how you got your healing, mortal."

You sigh lightly.

"They locked me in an iron chair and brought the scepter." You narrated. "But they lie me on the chair next, and I could only feel the metal against my skin, and then I saw a yellow light. Something went right through my chest, and then right through." You say. "I blacked out for a second, the room was completely empty like a vision. When I blinked, it was back, but all the soldiers holding me were dead. And then they knocked me out."

"Before you said you saw a yellow stone?"

You nodded in agreement.

"I dreamed of this memory for several days." You clarify. "I was back in the room, but this time I watched myself. I saw when they put the scepter to my chest, and when the golden stone came out and went through my skin. It was the stone that released the wave of energy that killed the soldiers .I don't know why I didn't die too."

"A single blow that killed a group of soldiers at once." Thor mutters more to himself than to the rest of the teams. "It's decided then, no mortal must touch this. It's clearly far more power than anyone should have."

"This is ridiculous." Thor accused the next moment, making the team look at him curiously. "You can't just deny knowledge about something like that and..."

"Why are you so insistent on this, Tony?" It's Steve who asks suspiciously. Tony sighs, and gives a short laugh.

"You guys are unbelievable, you know." He says. "I'm trying to find new alternatives to our problems."

"What problems?" Steve asks with a confused grimace, and Tony rolls his eyes, looking nervous.

"Our enemies, Captain!" He snarls. "In case you haven't noticed, it hasn't been too long since we faced an army of robots coming from a hole in the sky!" He accuses. "We don't have the power to face this kind of thing. The scepter is exactly what I need to prevent the worst from happening."

"Where did that come from, Tony?" Steve retorted confused.

Stark gave a short laugh, rolling his eyes.

"I don't have time for this." He grimaced and moved to grab the scepter, but Thor stood in the way, arms crossed. "Really?" Tony impatiently charges, but Thor doesn't move. Stark clenches his jaw before declaring angrily. "I had a vision, okay? I saw all of us, defeated. Defeated because we didn't have the power to win. And I... I could have prevented it."

The avengers look as confused as you are, and remain silent. Tony sighs and runs his hand through his hair.

"It was New York again, but this time the enemy won." He continues, visually upset. When he lifted his face in Steve's direction, his look was angry, but his eyes had tears in it. "And you told me that I could have stopped it."

“I wouldn't do that.” Steve says. “If we ever lose, I wouldn't blame you, Tony.”

Tony gives a short laugh.

“Wouldn’t you really?” He retorts. “I’m pretty sure you would, cap.”

Steve takes a step forward, his eyes soften as he looks at his friend.

“I promise you, Tony. If we lose, we lose together.” He declares. “That’s what being an Avengers means. I’m sorry if I was not clear before, and made you feel any different than this or…”

“Stop it!” Tony angrily interrupts. You flinch because you think you saw a familiar red light in his eyes. “Cut this sentimental crap, Steve. I’m just trying to do what’s necessary here.”

“Back off, Stark!” You order as you noted how he has moved his wand to the scepter, he seems surprised by the action too. You move in his direction as he takes two steps back, looking irritated. You gave him no time to answer however, as you raise your hands over his head and touch his forehead with your fingers before he can complain.

Immediately, you can feel the remnants of magic on Tony's head. You don't recognize it at first, but as your own magic removes the other energy, you sigh slightly. It feels familiar, but you don't know why. The energy is still harmful though, probably due to the intention of the one who cast it, but you manage to clean it all up.

You succeed because you coordinate your magic to wipe the other energy like you usually clear and heal wounds, and it seems to work, because Tony raises his hands to your wrist, his wide-eyed eyes soften and he looks almost startled.

"I'm sorry." He asks and swallows dryly. You remove your fingers from his forehead completely, watching with curiosity. He takes a deep breath, blinking several times as if waking up. "I'm sorry, everyone, I... Damn, it was like a horrible dream. I need to lie down for a minute."

And with that he leaves.

You don't ask questions anymore, because Steve is going after him, and you are trying to figure it out why you still feel the unknown magic tingling at your fingertips, as if it is trying to merge with yours.

//-//

You cry when you see Bucky again.

He lets out a disbelieving laugh, and then he's running up, hugging you tight.

Your conversation is long and intense, and is almost mostly made up of gratitude.

The other Avengers seem very happy to see the whole interaction, especially Steve.

Tony isolates himself in his room as soon as you arrive, and Thor looks upset. He and Bruce discuss something, and then they go to talk to Tony.

You don't pay attention because you are listening to Bucky tell you about getting all his memories back, and living with the Avengers since you helped him. He was now free from Hydra's control, and was pardoned by the state on condition that he was no longer the Winter Soldier.

Nat also added in his narrative the information that he and Steve were "making fondue" and the joke made him laugh with red cheeks but you didn't understand what that meant.

You are very happy to see him, but you can't help but think that he was not the one you wanted to find when you were free.

When he introduces you to the rest of the compound, and to your room, you hug him in appreciation, and you both exchange a knowing look, finally acknowledging that you are safe.

//-//

Your first night in the compound is a strange one.

After meeting the whole team, who were polite despite having fought you a few hours ago, you received a full meal and then locked yourself in your room.

But you were not used to having such a soft bed, not even before Hydra, so sleeping seemed kind of impossible.

Figuring that the Avengers wouldn't mind you taking a late night stroll, you left your room.

"Are you lost, girl?" A female voice suddenly sounded making you jump in fright. It was Natasha Romanoff, or as she introduced herself earlier, Black Widow.

"S-sorry, ma'am." You retorted clumsily, and the woman raised her eyebrows at you. "I can't sleep."

"First, I'm not old, so don't call me ma'am." She commented wryly, and you tried to smile. "Second, I know the feeling. If you want, I can distract you."

Your last social conversation with a woman happened a long time ago, and then you find yourself asking:

"Are you inviting me to have sex?"

Nat lets out a surprised laugh, crossing her arms.

"Where did that come from?" she asks, and you scratch your neck lightly.

"Sorry, I learned how to talk to women from television shows that Hydra soldiers watched in the labs. Bad references. What did you mean by distracting me?"

Nat laughed, impressed by your words.

"I meant like have some tea and tell a story." She clarifies, not sounding the least bit upset. You put your hands in the pockets of the pajamas you've been given.

"R-right. That sounds more appropriate." You mumble with flushed cheeks, eliciting another laugh from the woman. As you begin walking side by side, she comments.

"You know, I think I'm going to have a lot of fun with you around here. You are just as awkward as Steve and Bucky."

You end up hearing a story about agents in Budapest, but it seems Nat doesn't tell the whole story. It's nice, though, you missed talking to someone.

"That thing you did earlier with Tony, that was really cool." Nat remarks after a pause in silence.

You take a sip of your tea after shrugging, but she seems inquisitive.

"How did you know it was Maximoff who messed with his head?"

You almost choke at the sudden mention of the name and Nat's watchful gaze makes it impossible to disguise. You sigh.

"I... They are my friends." You confess looking down at the cup, "Or they used to be."

Raising your gaze to Nat again, she only seems curious to know, and you shrug slightly, deciding to trust her.

"We grew up together in Sokovia." You count twirling your fingers on the handle of your cup, "They were the only family I had in the orphanage. And well, it was for them that I broke into a Hydra building."

Nat listens to your story intently, and you swallow dryly before continuing.

"When they captured me, the serum, it... well, it didn't exactly leave me conscientious." You try to explain. "It was like pushing all my memories away, my mind would become completely empty."

“"Is that what they did to Bucky?" Nat questions and you shake your head.

"No, they used electric shock on Bucky." You return with a grimace. "With me, they couldn't hurt me permanently, so they needed something that would make me obey without me being able to heal. It was like being drunk, I guess, only much worse."

“I’m sorry.”

"It 's fine.” You say with a sad smile. “I was dumb enough to go there, i knew the risks.”

“Don’t say that.” Nat asks with a serious voice. “It’s was not your fault they torture kids.”

"And whose fault is it, then?" You retorted, upset, with yourself more than with Nat or anyone else. "My friends for being stubborn idiots? Of Stark for throwing a bomb in my building? I'm tired of looking for reasons to justify what happened to me. Nothing is enough, and I just want to see my friends."

Nat sighs lightly, and raises a hand on the table to reach for yours. You want to hold back the tears, but they are already falling before you can do so.

"I promise we will find your family." She assures you tenderly, and you feel your heart soar at the possibility.

You nod in understanding, taking a deep breath to stop crying.

Nat squeezes your hand, and it takes a moment for you to speak again.

"Wanda." You begin, and almost sob. It has been a long time since you have spoken that name. "She... She must have gotten her powers the same way I did." You say trying to remember everything you witness in Hydra at that moment. "I remember the soldiers talking about the twins being the only ones to survive the stone besides me."

"From Shield records, we know she can manipulate energy and Pietro can run really fast." Nat informs as she releases your hand. She sits thoughtfully for a moment."Maybe because you all got the magic through the same source, you can heal what she can do to Tony's mind. But that's not really my area, maybe you should talk to Thor as well."

You sigh lightly, wiping away the remainder of the tears falling on your face.

"I will." You say. "But I want to find Wan-the twins first." You correct yourself quickly, hoping Nat doesn't notice your flushed cheeks. She does, but says nothing.

"Try to get some rest." She asks as she picks up the teacups. "We have a party coming up, and then Thor is supposed to return to Asgard. I imagine you will want to have a little chat with Bucky before you return to Sokovia."

"I would go back to Sokovia right now if you ask me." You mutter making Nat chuckle lightly. "But I don't want to disturb any of you. I've waited for a long time, I can wait a little longer."

When Nat turns around after putting the glasses in the sink, she has a soft expression.

"You are not a nuisance here, kid." She assures with a smile. "We've just been caught a little by surprise with a new person, but it will be a pleasure to help you find the twins." She says and then has a mischievous expression. "I shouldn't tell you yet, but Steve is pretty excited about the whole thing. He wants you and the twins to join the team eventually."

"Really?" You ask in surprise and Nat just mumbles in agreement, still smiling.

She turns around on the countertop and before she leaves, she turns to you.

"If you ask my opinion, you seem to care a lot about both of them." She says. "I think that no matter how much time has passed, or if they are fighting on opposite sides, she will be happy to see you."

You swallow dryly, looking away.

Nat smiles one last time before leaving and you twiddle your fingers nervously, sitting for a while at the table before returning to your room.

With much to think about, you are surprised that you fall asleep almost instantly as you lie down.

//-//

The Hydra serum is still in your system.

You realize it in a rather embarrassing way actually.

After waking up on the couch, you went to the kitchen.

Bucky tells you that all the team is having a meeting and they will join you two soon, so you just lay against the wall while he reads the newspaper out loud for you.

The Avengers stay in the meeting room for a long time, and don't seem very pleased when they leave, but Tony seems intrigued.

You are surprised that he comes to talk to you as soon as he sees you.

"I didn't thank you for yesterday, kid." He says with a smile. "Whatever you did took away that bad feeling. Now I can work without having to hide that I'm trying to help."

You didn't quite know what to respond, but it didn't matter because Tony was patting you on the shoulder before smiling contentedly at the rest of the team.

"While I figure out a way to decipher the stone, which won't be hard since I'm incredibly smart." He begins his speech, causing the group to let out debauched laughter. "You guys can get busy with whatever old people do for fun. Except you Thunderlord, I'm going to need your help in the lab."

"Wow, Tony Stark asking for help." Thor teases and you watch the interaction with a smile on your lips, moving to join the table. "What a little magic doesn't do to your head, heh?"

"Don't tease me, Thundercat. I'll throw you out of this building, and you won't get any breakfast." He says with false seriousness and you laugh lightly as you pour yourself a cup of coffee. "Hey, kid, give me some too?"

"Ja, Master." You respond mechanically, perhaps even a little sleepily. The Avengers look at you with curiosity and confusion as they see you mechanically pour the coffee, and hand it to Tony, who looks shocked.

"He is not your master, kid." It is Natasha who breaks the silence, and you blink in confusion looking around for a moment.

"R-right." You say. "Sorry about that, Tony. Old habits I guess."

Tony thanks you for the drink, and you think the subject is going to die, but then Natasha keeps looking at you.

"Hey, Y/N, come over here." She asks and you move immediately. Shit. Natasha raises her eyebrow. "Take two steps to the left." Your body obeys. “Now to the right.” She asks and you obey again. This is terrible. The widow looks at you impressed.

"That looks bad." Tony quickly mocks before waving for Thor to accompany him to the lab, justifying that they should get to work soon.

Nat continues to look at you incredulously, but then Steve gets up from the table as well and snaps his fingers in front of your eyes, making you jump in fright slightly. He assumes a worried expression afterwards.

"You are obeying our orders as if we were your masters." He says. "Let's go see Bruce in the lab, he'll want to run some tests."

When you reach the lab, and Steve explains to Bruce what happened at breakfast, you are not surprised that he puts needles in your arm. You hope the news will be good when he finishes assessing your blood.

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Tag List> @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia || @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @aimezvousbrahms // @drpepperobsessed // @sighsam // @olsensnpm // @sxfwap // @table57 // @madamevirgo // @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo // @emptysince18x // @xastrydx || @yuhloversxx || @ymzki-haruki || @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday || @lostandsearching || @lezzzbehonesthere || @musicinourlips || @chaekhan || @diaryoflife

[nastybuckybarnes]

Of Kings and Beasts  -  Nine

Pairing: King!Bucky X Princess!Reader X King!Steve

Summary: Born a bastard of the King of Orlen, you’re thrust to the West to marry the Kings. However, the greeting you get is anything but warm, and your life with the King is far from enjoyable. He knows it isn’t your fault his husband is gone, but that fact alone won’t prevent him from taking it out on you.

Warnings: Angst, Injuries, Fluff, Language, Violence, 

Word Count: 2.9K

A/n: Another chapter is finished!! I’ve got an idea but it’s SO DANGEROUS AND Y’ALL MIGHT HATE ME IF I DO IT BUT ITS SO TEMPTING AND I THINK I’M GONNA DO IT ahem anyway I hope you guys enjoy this!

A/n 2: I’m posting this before work so I’ll reply to asks and comments when I get home tonight! Also, I’ve got the next part of Gangsta written up if y’all want that.... hehe

THIS SERIES CONTAINS SMUT AND DARK THEMES THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME AUDIENCES!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!

Series Masterlist

~*~

“How have you been adjusting to this new home?” Thor asks one morning, a smile on his face. You grin back at him, the weight of Acadia lifted off your shoulders as you take a sip of your tea.

“Quite well. Although Loki has been an interesting addition.” The raven-haired man looks up from his book momentarily and gives you a look, to which you only smile.

From the moment you entered the cottage you knew it would be good for you to stay here.

“Well, we are at your disposal. I will have to go back to Asgard within the weeks to come, but Loki and the Valkyrie shall remain here should you need or want them.” You nod gratefully, looking out the window and pursing your lips as you watch the women spar outside.

“What? What is it?” Thor asks, following your gaze.

“I want to learn to defend myself. To wield a sword and fight off an attacker.” Loki scoffs from where he sits, his nose still buried deep in his book.

“For what reason should a queen wish to learn to fight? You will always have men for that.” Your defence is up in an instant, and you clench your jaw before composing yourself enough to reply.

“I do think that considering both my upbringing and the way I have been treated in my new kingdom, I have every right to want to learn to defend myself. I have many reasons to want to defend myself, none of which concern you, however, if you had the slightest idea of all that I have endured in my short time as queen you would not question me wanting to learn to defend myself. I have been shunned from my palace because my husbands fear someone will kill me. My own husbands have brought me far more pain than I would like to admit. I have every right to wish to learn how to defend myself and I will not hear a word from you about the subject!”

His brows raise to nearly his hairline and he looks between you and his brother before burying his nose back in his book, which elicits a chuckle from the blond king.

“If the situation is so severe that I need be sent away for my own safety, I need to learn to defend myself.”

Thor nods, a strong hand patting your shoulder comfortingly.

“I knew there was a fire in you. I could see it in those eyes when you spoke of running from the Kings. I just needed to find it.” He rises to his feet and straightens his clothing. “Loki does have a special talent for pulling the fire from even the most docile creatures. But I will go speak with the valkyrie. They will be delighted to have a student to train.”

He leaves the cottage to interrupt the sparring outside, and you feel your heart skip a beat at the first piece of control that you will have over your life.

~*~

“If that will be all, You are dismissed,” King Steven says, his voice low and exhausted. The royal adviser bows then heads to the door, hesitating for a moment.

“Forgive me, Your Majesties, but I cannot help but notice the absence of the Queen. Where has she gone?” It’s not the first time they’ve gotten the question in the week that you've been gone, therefore they already have their excuse rehearsed and perfected.

“We simply have no use for her. If she cannot even bear our children then what use is she to us?” Comes Steve’s practiced response.

“We were instructed to find a queen who could produce strong heirs. Our wife cannot. So she is no longer of use to us,” James adds, his voice dripping in boredom as he looks over a document on his desk.

The royal advisor nods then excuses himself, bustling to his own office with newfound haste and purpose.

“It’s been a week and we are no closer to finding who it is than we were when she was here,” Steve murmurs after a long moment of silence, his shoulders heavy with the weight of their decision.

“I’m beginning to question whether it was a good decision to send her along with Thor. Especially after he threatened to make her a queen of his own. What if she were to agree?” James stands up and walks over to his husband, taking his shaking hands in his own and sighing.

“I would not blame her if she were to agree. We have treated her like a prisoner. I have... brutalized her and beaten her and I will never be able to repent. If she were to want him I would in no way blame her. He has provided her with a safe haven. She can confide in him and trust him in a way that she may not be able to again with us.” Steve sniffles and squeezes his eyes shut.

“We need to find who it is that has caused this and we need to make them pay.” James nods, smoothing his thumbs over the back of his husband’s hands.

“We will. But until we do, we must remain strong. The Doctor is recovering and when he is fully recovered we will ask him who it was that attacked him. We will find who is behind this, but we must be patient.”

~*~

“Again!” You raise your sword just in time to block a blow from one of the Valkyrie, grinding your teeth together as you push her back a step then swipe your own sword at her throat.

She hops backward, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“You are learning, Your Majesty. But you still hold back. Why? You cannot be afraid to hurt us,” The Captain says, walking forward and looking at you closely.

“You must show no mercy. Not when you must choose between your own life and the life of someone who means to do you harm. You will fight and you will fight to the death.”

Your entire body is burning with the exertion but you hold your ground, raising your sword and ready to go again.

“That’s what I like to see! Now, we go again!” Brunnhild exclaims, a grin on her face as she takes her fighting stance.

It’s just over two weeks since you began your training and everyone is surprised at how quickly you’re picking up on what’s being taught, but none more than you.

You’re just stepping out of the bath, muscles aching with a new type of strength that the Valkyrie have been beating into you, when your eyes catch a glimpse of movement at the window to your bedroom. A figure clad in all black is moving swiftly away from the cottage and disappearing into the darkness of woods, the setting sun aiding in the camouflage of the person.

Thinking that it’s none other than Loki going to wreak havoc on some poor defenceless wanderers, you don’t question it. Instead, you get dressed into a soft Asgardian gown and start preparing yourself for bed.

You’re just about ready to settle down with a book when a flash of white catches your eye from the window. You hesitantly investigate, heart hammering in your chest as you see a letter tucked securely in the window.

You open it and snatch the envelope before it can be taken by the wind, then shut the window again.

The seal on the envelope is that of Acadia, and your heart is in your throat as you realize that this could very well be a letter from the Kings. You’ve no idea what it may say, and cannot decide if you are more nervous or excited as you open it.

The script is not one you recognize, but your eyes greedily devour every word, the smile fading from your face at what lies on the page in your hand.

Thor finds you sometime later seated on the floor, the letter gripped tightly in your hands and your eyes focused on a point on the wall.

“(Y/n?” He asks softly, knocking against the doorframe to try and get your attention. You make no indication that you’ve heard him.

He enters the room, brows furrowed as he sees what you’re holding. “What is that? What does it say? Is it from the Kings?”

It takes a very long moment, but eventually, you find the strength to speak. But even then your voice is a weak rasp.

“Did you know the truth? Did you hide it from me as well?” Thor is beyond confused as he approaches you, taking the page from you and reading through the contents quickly.

‘Your Majesty,

Do not ask who I am nor how I know where you are, just know that you need be more careful who it is you call your lovers. They have sent you away, not for your own protection but because you failed at the task they wanted you for. They have sent you away because you failed to bear their children, this I promise I have heard with my own ears. I know not what they have told you but it is what I have witnessed. They have said this directly and I have heard it with my very own ears. You would do well to stay away from them, for they are dangerous. But I am certain that you and your late child are more than aware of that.

Consider this a warning, your majesty, for I know you are unsafe. You must take care and be far more careful of who you allow in your court.’

“Loki!” The prince is in the room within the same moment, his eyes full of confusion.

“Have the Valkyrie secure the area and find me the man who sent this! Travel to Acadia and alert the Kings. The Queen is no longer safe here.”

You’re confused. If the kings have directly told someone this, why then is Thor responding in such a way?

Loki is on horseback heading towards Acadia only moments later, and Thor is leaving the room as soon as the Valkyrie enter.

Brunnhild crouches next to you, a frown on her face as she glances at the note on the floor, its words echoing in your ears.

“Do not allow this to scare you, Your majesty. Do not give them the satisfaction of that.” You scoff and shake your head at her, “it is far easier said than done. All my life I have been punished for ever speaking, much less standing my ground. I have perfected the art of cowering, for men wish to do nothing but hurt and maim all so they can gain power.”

She sits down and shakes her head, taking your hand in hers and squeezing it tightly.

“You forget that we are all brought into this world through blood and through pain, your Majesty. We are the daughters of savage women. We are their savage daughters and we will act like it. We will bite and scream and we will take up space. We will not conform to their ideas of what women should be.” Her words are whispered into the still air of the room as if she were hiding them from any listening ears.

“Do not lower your voice for any man. Do not cower beneath them. You are a powerful being. One that can create life and you can also take it away, never forget that.” She pulls a dagger off of her belt and hands it to you, curling your fingers around the hilt before she continues speaking.

“You have the blood of goddesses and witches flowing through your veins. You hold a power that men could never understand. With every step we take, every time we refuse to cower... we honour our mothers, our grandmothers, and the ones before them. The ones who stood and fought and were torn to pieces. We will not be silenced. You will not be silenced. You are more powerful than that. You must remember your strength and your power. Do not let the men convince you that you are anything less than what you are.”

Your eyes sting and your throat gets tight, but she only hugs your shoulders and continues speaking.

“Your power is what scares them. Why else would they try to assert their dominance in such a way? But you will not fall. You will not allow them to treat you like that because you are the daughter of a savage. You are yourself a savage woman and you will act like it. Royal title be damned.”

You sniffle once, twice, three times, then nod, wiping your eyes just as Thor re-enters the room.

The Valkyrie take their leave and the King sighs, crouching down next to you and gently stroking your cheek.

“I’m so very sorry, Petal. You are no longer safe here. If someone was able to bring you this letter then I fear you are in far more danger than we had thought. The conspiracy against the Kings runs far deeper than any of us could have anticipated, and if we are to keep you safe then we must act quickly.” He pulls you to your feet and bustles around quickly, covering your shoulders in a thick cloak and packing a bag of your belongings.

“Wait, where do you mean to take me? If I am not safe anywhere?”

He tosses your bag over his shoulder and grabs your hand, entwining your fingers and giving your hand a soft squeeze.

“The only place you will truly be safe.” You’re still quite confused.

“We make for Asgard.”