#the wind will literally blow spy away

[fishy0bishy]

INTRODUCING

The tiny crusaders!

They are a unique group of space riders that even if they are small in size my embrace it by showing the bigger riders they are just as powerful as them! (Space riders Au belongs to @onyxonline!)

“What do they do?”

given their size they are usually sent on undercover missions or to spy and mess with the Cultist plans Sometimes even being on a undercover mission for months at a time. But don’t worry they are each trained in defense so if they were compromised they’d be able to fight their way out!

Meet the crusaders!

Side note: Each member all has something common. One being they are under 3 feet tall and two. Unfortunately each one of them have all been lushed aside by someone they admired.

We have GingerSnap the crusaders captain who is first in charge and the most explosive Hamster you’ll ever meet and is usually the one sent for undercover missions . Insult them or their crew they’ll make sure you’re sorry GingerSnap Can literally make themselves into a living fireball/ firework and launch themselves at others or in the air and as for overdrive their flames get so hot they turn purple leaving Gingersnap in burns if they’re in this form for too long

Second is our second in command Sqeeky the miniature Penguin He’s around to make sure his captain doesnt take a too big of a challenge and hurts themselves but also accompanies Ginger with undercover work. He’s usually reserved and always tries to cool off tense situations He has ability to sort of control manipulate weather and temperature, While he struggles with hot and humid weather he’s a prodigy with snow and wind His Overdrive however his body is in sections each a different temp/kind of weather

Next we have Fishy the goldfish! She’s the informant on the ship in charge of locating and tracking things as well giving directions in the ships radio center,She primarily stays on ship after a incident where on a mission with a cultist where her tank was chipped and leaked a bunch of water everywhere it wasn’t fun for her or the crusaders Fishy’s powers are Bubbles! She can essentially use bubble beam to launch at enemies to blow them away for trap them in a bubble prison but her skills aren’t the best. As for Overdrive she just becomes a body of water and bubbles

Next We have Zoomie a small little green guy that just showed up on the crusaders ship and just stuck around. It doesn’t talk ether but it fixes everything on the ship really well so Ginger isn’t complaining. But zoomie is banned in the ships Radio center because the technology goes crazy whenever it’s around for Zoomie and its powers It’s presumed by the crusaders that it doesn’t have powers but yet after a space rider assaulted Meeps the rider just ceased to exist. (If it really focuses they literally just make someone disappear. Just poof or make things levitate)

And finally we have Meeps Hes a hotrod leopard gecko that accompanies Ginger and Sgeeky on missions, he’s very stealthy climbing on literally everything and is very useful on missions getting from place to place to spy from afar his powers he can hypothesize others just by staring into his cute little eyes or leopard spots making the person dizzy to where they faint or just have someone do something for him His Overdrive his body just has swirls all over and you can’t look at him without getting brainwashed or getting very sick

[fbs-fc-ur-mommy]

! Tomioka Giyuu! x! yamada sagiri reader! Short ch

Warnings :mentions of bullying, manga spoilers (demon slayer) major character death, angst.

________________/////////___________________

-Nobody knew that you we're together until Mitsuri became suspicious when she saw you two so close, and Giyuu smiling around you which was an rare sight.

-spy you 24/7

-When she confirms it she couldn't wait but to share her unexpected news to Obanai.

-He was shocked. Literally jaw dropping. Who thought an loser like him could pull women. If he do it, he should do it with Mitsuri too.

-Obanai shared this information to Sanemi, Sanemi to Uzui, Uzui to Shinobu and Shinobu to Renkogu.

-Sanemi keeps asking you how you could get together with someone like Giyuu.

-Shinobu started calling you miss Tomioka.

-Giyuu situation was worse

-Sanemi keep threatening him

-Shinobu teasing got worse, until it becomes annoying than before.

-Distances from Shinobu

-Uzui wanted to tell giyuu methods of more "beautiful sexual experience"

-Obanai like Sanemi, always when they meet, he smash his shoulder on Giyuu s.

-For you it was like your fellow hashira approved and support you. For Giyuu it became pure hell.

-"We need to break out"

-"HUH"? You couldn't believe what you heard, what you're seeing. It's this man, before you, looking at you coldly like, you are some demon, the man you loved before? The man who cried in your lap, the one who-

-"Stay away from me and my estate, until you keep your dogs away from me we can give another chance "

-Furrowing your eyebrows you drew out your katana ready too attack. You couldn't handle the disrespect. Father, brother or lover everyone needs to respect you as long you do.

-"I'll let that slide, just imagine if I say what you just said about our fellow hashira you j-." as you said that you saw Giyuu right hand on his katana handle and before you knew you two started attacking each other.

-Deciding to attack him with your Ninth Form: Idaten Typhoon, that allows user to flip into the air and dash multiples powerful strong circular wind blows that destroy anything below.

-Your effort put in that attack was just countered by his 11 form. And with an hand of sand, trowing in your direction blinding you.

-Closing the eyes just for 1 sec and your katana is out of your hand, and you're on your back, breathing heavily, Giyuu above you on your stomach fully weighted on you and a katana at your neck, cutting the first layer of skin. Your stamina and resistance wasn't your thing.

-"Hah? You look beautiful above me, but I prefer below me" just as you said this an hand slapped you hard against the cheek, smiling sarcastically you couldn't help but laugh.

-"I will let this slide, just imagine if I say what you've just done to your fellow hashira? " getting up he put his katana back and turned to leave.

-Your an loser! I have millions of explanations ! Do you think that you can turn me off with that statement?! Think about your words more carefully son of a b!" as you let finnaly let your tears out you watched him leave without an care." I will leave you the same as you did to me! " you thought, getting up to your estate.

-He couldn't get her out of his head for the next 6 months. Her long brown hair, her eyes everything was perfect. She had the looks of an ordinary girl, not like mitsuri or shinobu but her beauty was elegant and simple. His type.

-You two didn't talk to each other for 1 year. You heard that he saved some boy with his sister. You didn't have an fuck to go to the meeting. Your mom funeral was more important .

-Months passed away and this boy was like some upper moon talisman. Lucky or unlucky you didn't know, but you refused two times to go with him. You didn't want to lose something like Uzui. After this they planned to have an "training". You aggred having the spot as "stealth" being after Uzui training.

-You've left to meet your fellow teacher. You we're just an tsuguko 4 years ago but now you are an hashira. You thought if Sanemi could see you more as an ex tsuguko. As you saw Sanemi fighting with giyuu you didn't intervene. Being boring to wait you decided to walk a bit around. As you walked, an door suddenly appeared under your feet, devouring you in..

________----__-_--_--_--_-_-_--__-_-_--__-_-_

Shinobu pov.

As I walked through this castel, I opened the door, first thing I saw was an back then they turned to me. I immediately regonized the demon. The one who killed my sister. He was having an arm in his mouth, and as i turned my focus on the corpse he was eating. It was Sagiri. Laying there in her blood her left hand still griping her katana. Her eyes where closed and she was looking like she was sleeping. An big slash to her neck was visible, right where her scar was. I pulled my katana out. Ready to fight. 1.2.3 set. Go!

_________________________________________

I dont love overrated reader srry if I make sagiri to weak I watched just one ep of hell paradise

[afreakingdork]

Backfire

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader One-Shot

Tags: Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Fire, One Shot, Gift Giving, Short & Sweet, Tactical Turtles (TMNT)

Synopsis: As Don stokes the flames to warm the house, you try to finally pull one over on him in the form of a gift.

Also Available on Ao3

A Secret Santa gift for @amutantturtleenthusiast

@crackedpumpkin fielded me with the idea and @morning-sun-brah stayed with me in the word doc to make this bad boy happen!

To Pen! Your tactical turtles changed my brain chemistry and, though I can't imagine doing them an ounce of justice as you do, I hope you enjoy this gift! Everyone go read Pen's series!

There was no way this was going to work.

Getting home from a veritable blizzard, Don had left you to warm the space. The day away had chilled it down to its very brick bones and the little hearth he’d constructed for the sake of the holiday no longer seemed like a silly one. You saw its practicality now, especially if the power went out as it threatened. You craved the flames that would lick up from the pit and his distraction was exactly what you needed.

“I’m going to wash up.” You told him.

His vague nod was one that spoke volumes.

It was always like that with him.

So little, too much.

By all accounts he should have been a fortress and, in many ways he was, but there were small tells that kept you going.

Not necessarily cracks in his emotional facade, but instead leaks that he allowed.

They were gifts.

Just like the one you were on your way to get.

Winding through the hall, it felt like all was for naught.

He was a genius.

He was beyond you in literally every way.

The fact that you had even purchased something, wrapped it, and hidden it was a marvel in and of itself.

Just shy of going to anime-like feats to make sure he hadn’t tampered with it, you knew he’d probably circumvented those too if he really wanted to know. There was a real chance that he already did. There was a chance he’d tailed you physically or visually via his network of security cameras. There was even a chance that he’d given the shop keep who’d smiled at you a little pep talk before you ever entered the store with an intent to buy him a single thing.

You hadn’t minded it.

It was a simple fact of being with your turtle.

It came with the territory.

It didn’t mean you didn’t want to circumvent him once in a while.

In all the years you'd been together, you hadn’t once seen surprise pass over his features. He always knew in some small way what you were aiming for and some version of you accepted what was never to be.

You also wanted to blow something up in his face once in a while.

So you’d gone through the secretive motions. You’d played your part. You’d gone above and beyond any and all spy thrillers, just for the lotto numbered chance of surprising Don. You decided that was enough. If you couldn’t get him with all this, it simply wasn’t within your power, but at least you tried and that counted for something.

Kicking out a bench from the edge of the guest bed, you dropped down to all fours and fondled under the mattress. Between some slats you’d wedged his gift and it came loose without a crinkling noise. A good sign, you checked that the wrapping was still in place before you hugged it close to your chest.

Now came the hardest part.

Creeping along a wall and just shy of pressing your body to it, you approached the room he was in. A small peek found him moving logs, and on instinct, after years together, you knew that he was aware of your presence. You watched him get hold of a poker and your body animated, as staying still was a tell in and of itself.

“I had a good day.” You moved behind him, hoping with every fiber of your being that he wouldn’t turn around.

He gave a tepid hum of agreement.

“We gonna snuggle up by that fire?” Small, innocuous steps brought you behind a couch, placed to look upon the hearth.

Only a puff of air followed. Something of an ill-formed chuff, it said that depended on your behavior.

A titillating thought in and of itself, you shoved those butterflies down. Squashing them with the net, you looked down at the present as he lit a match. He smoked the tinder and, in his squat, he revealed the mailbox for your postage.

It just had to be the stockings hung with care. 

Pinned above his head and all too obvious, you almost laughed.

The odds were already abysmally against you making the free throw from half-court, but now you had the other team’s star player on defense.

What could you do?

The best you could.

As you’d already decided.

Sauntering up behind Don, you knew he was watching you even though you weren’t truly in his periphery.

Your intent was the only thing you could mask at this angle so you moved to work with your only option.

Steps that you hoped seemed natural brought you just beside his back.

A direct approach from behind a poor one, you made a show of reaching out with your free hand to skim his shoulder.

It was with the weight of your digits that you meant to translate what you felt and you sent it all towards distraction.

“Not now.” He grunted and stabbed one perky flame to give it a chance at life.

He needed to warm the house for his mate.

He wouldn’t let even you, said creature, get in the way of such a task.

It brought a smile to your lips and you left your hand there for a faint squeeze of that affection. “I’m just thankful.”

He didn’t move and allowed your question to be prompted by the air alone.

“A holiday with you.” You bent at the waist. “Spending time, the whole thing. I know it’s not your favorite.”

A flick of his pupil said he, in fact, hated it.

“But!”

His eyes returned to the growing fire.

You were running out of time.

Trying not to rush, but knowing your breath shook, you felt his muscles contract as he adjusted the smoldering pile.

He knew.

You’d deal with that later.

All that mattered was getting your gift into the stocking.

Whatever it took.

“I appreciate that you did it anyway.” You punctuated your point with a stolen kiss to the side of his head, and, at the same time, you were just barely able to shove your gift into his stocking.

Retreating, the gift dropped down the length of the garish boot shape and the fire cackled loudly as if to help you out.

Thanking the flames for all they provided, you released him. Don found the growing flame suitable and stood.

You took a step back to keep from stumbling and watched as he sized you up.

Always feeling dwarfed by him, you gave the smallest tilt of your head which metered your chin. It was an act of fealty that he preferred and, though he couldn’t give the exact of a smile, there was a twitch to one of the corners of his lips that said the gesture was one he preferred. You were rewarded for it, in that moment, as he dipped down and scooped you up. A movement you knew with a deep muscle memory, he approached the lone couch with your body held in the easy circle of his arms. Heat from the fire chased him as he gave minor adjustments until you were cozily tucked into his lap.

His body relaxed in the only small way he ever allowed and you knew this to be comfort for him. Snuggling into his chest since it also meant you could be a little extra selfish and get away with it, he turned into you. Awaiting a scolding, you readied yourself for a complaint when he instead kissed the side of your head as you had done to him.

Heart flipping, your breath caught in your throat as he nuzzled into your ear with what should have been the heated promise of what was to come in.

He continued to subvert you with a few whispered words.

Just enough to set you aflame, but not in the usual way, he was able to stoke you like the fire.

“If I were anyone else, I might have been surprised,” he rumbled in your ear.

You let out a sigh, deflating a little in his arms.

He gave a short chuckle that you hardly ever got to hear and laid a kiss across your cheek. “I appreciate it.”

Alit, it was the way his arms tightened around you, the way his snout pressed into the corner of your neck, and the way a low churr purred against your skin, that worked as a coordinated effort to soothe your disappointment.

You sighed anew, this time giving into satisfied relaxation of a job well done that the flames joined in on.

[augment-techs]

"he can't tell the coroner" for WIP Wednesday please!

Matt: You don’t have to--

Skull (taking a deep, deep breath, and closing his eyes on the exhale): I know, but I really do need to get this out. Bulk doesn’t know, and I know it’s not good for me. It’s just that... After getting called in to look at four dead teen girls and thinking each time it was gonna be her, only to find two people I’ve never met, one girl I’d seen around the Juice Bar, and one girl that used to be in our sixth grade music class--when she showed up out of the blue, perfectly fine, looking as good as she ever had... I was so happy. And then a little angry--and then she just...changed into herself. And then I was in total shock when she asked me to go to her home planet, leave everything behind because she says she cared about me--

(Pause. Deep pause with something cold and black at the edges)

Skull: She told me I was never a part of her mission, but that she did care about me. But she left so many strings just...hanging...when she went away to blow in the wind. As far as Angel Grove’s police department and school board and missing persons and the fucking coroners are concerned, "Candice Clark" is just a regular girl that was on transfer from out of the country, that went missing during an alien invasion. Because there is literally nobody that would believe that one of those aliens that turned out to be on our side--an extremely high ranking military official that was sent to spy on this planet--was not only pretending to be a teenager, but even went so far as to date a piece of trash like me. And even if there was a tiny snowball’s chance in hell they did believe that, I don’t have any proof. And because I don’t have any proof that she’s alive, now I have to live with people calling me to say they might have found her dead. And I have to keep going to see the bodies and pretend I don’t know this is yet another human I may or may not have met... She did that to me. She told me she cared about me, but she left me with this mess... How am I ever supposed to trust my next partner won’t hurt me like that? Or with my luck, hurt me even worse?

[fizzigigsimmer]

Steve is a struggling superhero trying to gain entry into The Defense League, where the top tier superhero’s work together to save the galaxy. But his powers are unruly. He’s kinda like the hulk only instead of going smash, when he loses control of himself he spits out solar energy. He can cause a lot of damage if he’s not careful, and his origin as a hero is pretty messy. Rich boy doing penance: it’s been done. He’s not even president of the club (that’s Tony). Steve’s gadgets aren’t nearly as cool as the tin man’s but Dustin and the rest of the nerd squad certainly keep him in the most unique gear. The indestructible bubble gum actually does adhere itself to any surface. He had to buy a new laundry machine, but he certainly can’t fault them for imagination.

Steve may be a third string hero, but he must be doing something right because he’s already got an arch nemesis. ‘The Hurricane’ blows in about once a month to terrify Saturday afternoon shoppers and trash the downtown in the name of anti-capitalism or whatever, and Steve seems to be the only one who can stop him. The Brain? Turns out her cloaking ability doesn’t hold up to torrential rain. Freeze Frame? Won’t get near the guy after Hurricane picked him up and blew him right into the giant fish tank at Bob’s Seafood. Prism (Robin to those in the know) was done with him from the moment Hurricane started playing rock music from the city alert system whenever he started a rampage.

“He just wants attention. He’s your problem Steve because you give it to him.”

He didn’t put any thought into it at first. Then Hurricane starts showing up every couple weeks instead of once a month. Then it progresses to once a week, and now twice in the same week. It’s troubling… also annoying as fuck because Hurricane always shows up at the worst times, and he just talks so much. He talks more shit than even Billy Hargrove, the super critical and overly suspicious personal assistant (read babysitter) his father stuck on him to make sure Steve isn’t running the Hawkins branch of the company into the ground. The guy’s got his nose so far up Steve’s business that Steve’s 90% sure he is a corporate spy, he just hasn’t found the proof yet.

But he can’t focus on the problem of Hargrove with an overgrown super baby throwing tantrums to Metallica every five seconds. When Hurricane attacks for the third time in the same week, Steve has had enough. He calls it in and leaves before the others even confirm they’re on their way. He knows better than to rush in without backup but he’s so sick of this bullshit. He’s gonna put a stop to this once and for all. He takes the nerd mobile (as Robin likes to call it since Dustin and the other kids in R&D are always coming up with excuses for more test drives) and arrives on the scene in a cloud of smoke and screeching tires.

Jesus he’s going to have to have a talk with the kids about why his car needs to spit flame out the back. The smoke is so black and thick! Though it does look cool (he’s got to admit) when he emerges from the dark cloud, his cape fluttering behind him in the wind.

The sky is an ugly purple overhead, thunder booms and lightning cracks, and the wind whips around them like a twister, tossing droplets of water in every direction. In the center of it all, the eye of the storm, is the man who started it all.

“Hurricane!” Steve shouts to be heard over the howling wind and the super villain's manic laughter.

He turns. Glacial eyes spark with life when they recognize Steve. And it is Steve he recognizes, not just the costume. Cause the one time they thought to send in a fake to do this, Hurricane literally fed the poor guy to the fishes. Blew him so far away they had to fish him out of Lake Michigan.

“Am I dreaming or is that you, Pretty Boy?” Steve’s so done with him he doesn’t even bother reminding him that his name is Photon Blast.

“Yeah yeah it’s me. Don’t cream your pants.”

Hurricane laughs like a lunatic. Because he is a lunatic. And the sky crackles with lightning.

Right about now, usually Steve’s backup would be sneaking into place in order to spring a trap on Hurricane while he’s distracted; only Steve didn’t wait for them so there is no backup.

“Brave of you to challenge me alone.”

“Man, what are you talking about?” Steve huffs and Hurricane blinks at him in obvious surprise. He presses on, “Have I ever come at you alone? We banter, we fight, I let you pin me, and just when you think you’ve won, my team appears and you get captured. It’s the same shit every time.”

“Your prison cells can’t hold me!” Hurricane growls, eyes narrowing in Steve with rage like he thinks he’s being insulted.

“Yeah no shit. This is the third time we’re doing this.” Steve rolls his eyes, fists his hands on his hips. Taps his foot. “What gives man? You need a hug or something? A cuddle buddy?”

He’s expecting Hurricane to explode. Is ready for it. Aching for it if he’s honest, because it irks him that he never really beats Hurricane no matter how many rounds he ‘wins’. When the guy keeps breaking out of custody like it’s nothing and coming back, it feels like Steve’s trapped in a game with rules he doesn’t know. So he’s ready for a fight but what happens is worse.

“Are you offering?” Hurricane asks.

Steve stares at him, his mouth dropping open. Did he hear that right?

“What did you just say?”

The whipping rain parts for the leather clad villain and he saunters towards Steve. The fang of some poor creature dangles from his ear and his teeth glint in a sharp smile as he stops in front of Steve.

“I asked if you’re offering.”

“No fucking way dude!” Steve snaps without, thinking and immediately regrets it as the sky booms with thunder.

“Too bad. I give great hugs.” is what he hears before a gust of wind slams into him, so strong it smacks him right into the side of a parked car.

Steve groans. Partly in pain. Mostly in misery. This guy is fucking insane and for some reason, he’s obsessed with Steve and like only Steve.

This is his true penance, he thinks as he struggles back onto his feet before a small tree comes hurtling at his head like a toy carried on the wind.

Oh well, all the greats have their villainous groupies. Stark has too many to name. Wayne has a clown and Steve has a walking storm.

“You finally ready to put up a real fight Pretty Boy?” Steve’s personal pest in bondage gear calls out to him as the hero is reaching for his utility belt. “Or are you still playing around with toys?”

Steve pauses, chest heaving with anger, fighting for breath. He reminds himself that he can’t use his powers because they’re too unstable. People could get hurt and he’d never forgive himself if that happened again. But he’s so tempted.

Because Steve’s not nearly as good as he tries to be. Hurricane is laughing again, those eyes cutting into Steve… and all he wants in the world is the chance to show him what real power is and shut him up for good.

[rodrigobera04]

Fourth round, using the dark type.

DARK pure

Frog hiding in the ground, uses its bait tongue to catch birds.

Lizard changing its skin for a reddish one, looking skinned.

Bat adapting its wings to claws like scythes.

Hairy nozuchi with sharp teeth, swallowing its prey.

Nocturnal dodo bird camouflaged with the night, avoiding hunters.

Alien spy camouflaged among humans.

Oni based on amanojaku, disguised as a maiden having two faces.

Howler monkey looking like a werewolf with sharp teeth.

Eyeless cave goblin similar to a rat, adapted to basements and attics.

DARK/ROCK

Stone imp imitating an angel statue, guards cemeteries.

Cave exploring creature with a long body.

Stone coffin that serves as a portal to a world of hauntings.

Bird predator that throws stones at its prey.

Ricinullei with a rocky armor,cave arachnid.

Stone gorgon statue, except for its intimidating and unsettling eyes.

Fake stone fruit, breaking the teeth of those who bite it.

Dog creature using a stony ribcage as a house and shell.

Hunter making amber traps to catch insects and small Pokémon and stock them.

DARK/FLYING

Hairy, long-nosed and winged demon, mistaken for a witch's broom.

Owl with a devilish appearance, capable of rotating its neck or stretching it.

Flying rodent mistaken for a bat, a literal mouse with wings.

Leech flying with the wind towards its prey.

Flying monster expanded its throat with a scary face, like a macabre balloon.

Hematophagous starling looking like an avian mosquito.

Nocturnal winged creature glowing in colorful hues from a moonbow.

Toucan "monster clown",hiding a predator in its dances and bright colors.

Cave swallow with sonic power, alluding to banshees and sirens.

DARK/ELECTRIC

Electric eel ambushing victim in dark waters.

Monstrous storm cloud with the face of the yokai akashita.

Boa constrictor wrapped around prey and shocking it.

Creature with horns functioning as tasers to paralyze prey.

Fast hare creating holographic figures as he runs away,losing the pursuer.

Electric clown manipulating electricity and making "pranks" with shocks.

Boogeyman from lightning and electricity causing blackouts.

"Mad scientist" monkey receiving shocks, leaving him intelligent but aggressive.

Mammal catching fish with its tail, shocking anyone who catches it.

DARK/STEEL

Creature with a blade on its face based on the kaiju Guiron.

Spiked armored goblin who hunts fairies.

Nuckelave like monster resembling a biker on his motorbike.

Literal monster truck that eats iron.

Van Hellsing-style monster hunter with silver-based powers.

Carnivorous worms sheltered in a can, as in the can prank with a snake.

Canine-looking predator, has a bear trap for its jaw.

Greedy demon, has a chain of precious and heavy metals around his neck.

Crustacean with a pear of anguish for claw.

DARK/ICE

Quadrupedal hunting seal evoking the akhluth monster.

Aggressive narwhal using its horn as a drill, as a weapon.

Predator monster mimicking a snowman.

Ice gargoyle said to have come from cocytos.

Mole rat with a layer of ice and snow over its eyes.

Skua becoming a terrestrial predator like a bird of terror.

Sinister monster of cold and hunger, looking like a skeleton with mantis claws.

Snow cephalopod predator that can change its shape when hunting on land.

Werewolf "digger" burying prey in the snow, as some predators do.

DARK/ FIRE

Rockstar rooster using fire and pyrotechnics for his "shows".

Diabolical pig ridden by small fire imps, spreading destruction.

Goblin witch cooking her prey alive with heat.

Floating monster looking like a blimp capable of blowing itself up.

Incendiary naga striking its tail like a match.

Two-headed turtle with heads like pistols, based on western gunslingers.

Bird of prey blowing fire to get animals out of their holes.

Amphibious merman with whiskers glowing in will-o'-the-wisp like bait.

Small fire monster that, when scared, catches fire, shocking witnesses.

DARK/GRASS

Parasitic vine similar to a doll, with vines for hair.

Vitória-Regia looking like Dimitrescu, with a dark and thorny leaf hat.

Carnivorous rose bush hurting prey with its thorns.

Satyr with wooden horns manipulates his victims with his music.

Karasa-obake palm closing its leaves on target like an umbrella.

Crow transformed into a scarecrow monster thanks to cursed straw.

Dry tree monster causing travelers to get lost along the way.

Closed sunflower themed after a lunar eclipse.

Evil fruit imp that bites anyone who tries to bite it.

DARK/FAIRY

Hairy frog, reminiscent of hags and trolls, lives in sewers and attacks children.

Fruit bat parodying a vampire, drinks fruit pokemon juice.

Biting fairy imitating a four-leaf clover, bites anyone who picks it up as an amulet.

Bad wolf fairy capable of changing appearance and voice.

Carnivorous angelic fairies, deceiving with their appearance; attack in swarms.

Witch rat taking baby teeth from children, uses its pre-evolution as a familiar.

Goblin tricking people and scaring them by pretending to be a ghost.

Kikimora takes care of the home, but becomes hostile towards messy owners.

Evil gnome in a bottle, grants wishes but corrupts them.

DARK/GHOST

Black cat scaring people, like a jumpscare.

Abyssal shark appearing on beaches, a sign of storms to come.

Boogeyman having a black hole for his face, where he swallows the victim.

Kiss mark like a succubus, sucking energy from whoever marks it.

Serpentine ghost in the shape of an arm, hanging its prey.

Thylacinium ghost like a hellhound, drags hunters to the underworld.

Banshee clock counting a person's lifespan.

Sadako-style ghost, wrapped in shapeshifting hair.

DARK/BUG

Peanut bug with wings and "nose" forming an uncanny valley face.

Tarantula housed in a shoe, similar to a hermit crab.

Annoying cicada making noise to irritate others.

Worms coming out of a heart-shaped berry, alluding to heart parasites.

Giant water bug hiding in the water waiting for prey, like an alligator.

Stick insect imitating a drapion for intimidation.

Predatory fly looking like a bird of prey.

Gang and bandit themed ants,steal food.

Gravedigger beetle wearing dead animal skins and takes items like a tomb robber.

DARK/GROUND

Legless lizard posing as a snake to intimidate.

Chupacabra hidden from the sun by holes in the ground.

Carnivorous quicksand imitating a drowning person's hand.

Scary spider oni based on the tsuchigumo yokai.

Scavenging armadillo, curled into the shape of a skull.

Stargazer hiding in the sand, only its grimace is seen.

Orc pig covered in mud that camouflages and cools him.

Aardvark blowing sand through its snout and being carried away by the gale.

Rodent thief imitating vegetables to steal from vegetable gardens.

DARK/NORMAL

Threadsnake hidden in a plant pot in a minigame.

Tiliqua lizard changing their tongue to scare off predators.

"Masked" singing frog, phantom of the opera/in paradise theme.

Monster imitating a teddy bear, scares children.

Anti-togepi, a malicious egg Pokémon parasitizing its caretaker.

Deer gnawing bones and consuming calcium.

Strange Pekingese dog reminiscent of the yokai otoroshi.

Creature imitating shadows of its prey.

Kiwi camouflaged with the night and making scary noises.

DARK/FIGHTING

Living shoes specializing in kicks.

Reptilian contortionist fighter, strangling the opponent.

Violent bovine contaminated by some "mad cow" disease.

Monster with many arms, almost impossible to escape its grasp.

Pokémon with flat hands like flippers, specialized in slaps.

Carnivorous marsupial evolving its body like that of a kangaroo.

Violent and giant koala based on the drop bear.

Gladiator wearing the skin of a feline Pokémon, like Hercules.

Enemy of Tauros, bullfighter with cape like membranous wings and sword claw.

DARK/WATER

Starfish multiplying and attacking like a school of piranhas.

Pacu with a sadistic smile like a human.

Sea goblin playing tricks with its shark-like dorsal fin.

Vampire mussel with a suction mouth to feed on blood.

Crocodile pretending to cry like a child to catch the good Samaritans.

Squid pretending to be a drowning person and dragging his prey.

Aquatic predator that creates whirlpools, with spiral ears, neck and tail.

Fish camouflaged like a leaf and with an extensive jaw.

Vampiric aquatic haunting based on the nure-onna yokai.

THE LAST MYTHICAL:

Pure Dark, an eye monster that observes people, causing unrest.

[fckntf2hcs]

I feel like snoiper would also do bird calls. Like ever heard a kookaburra? Spy's sneaking up for the backstab and suddenly WOHEHEHEHEHAHA

He gotta stay still for his job so I imagine mostly small stims like foot tapping while he's scoped and saying 'boom, headshot' under his. He also canonically has Garand Thumb so he fiddles with his rifle a lot

THSID IS SO FUJNY HELP?:!:?;! absolute jumpscare for spy especially since sniper is such a quiet person, but he’d probably do the bird call when he’s real bored n not seein anyone anywhere.

ALSO THE STIMS… SO TRUE. Mostly just small usually unnoticable stuff, I think he’d chew the inside of his cheek too.

here’s a two panel comic with the kookybara call. I know sniper wouldnt just be standing like that but i didnt know how else to draw him😭

I think it’d be so funny if he didn’t even move while he did the call. He’s standing there all still n all, then suddenly he does this loud as birdcall not even moving at all, then just goes back to standing there.

The bird call completely throws Spy off and he jumps n drops the knife and then Sniper turns around n immediately guts n kills him. I don’t think Sniper would be embarrassed, I think Sniper is a very embarrassed person for weird things like pissing in jars and doing bird calls out of nowhere. It’s very specific things that make him embarrassed and when you get him embarrassed he gets so upset.

[briannawhiteme]

I recently watched the 25th Anniversary Concert version and film version of Les Miserables and have been listening to the Complete 3-disk Philharmonic Recording that I bought at a thrift store for $1.

Les Mis shocked me when I first watched it that the story doesn't fit a classic tragedy. The "breeding pair" (as my college Shakespeare/Renaissance Literature prof called them) survive and are paired together to be fruitful and multiply.

While I was listening to the soundtrack on my way home yesterday and again today (as one does), it hit me that there's a secondary reason it's not a tragedy. All of the main characters achieve their goals. Please keep in mind that I'm going based on the musical, as I have not read the novel or watched any of the other.

Jean Valjean

Valjean has two goals in the narrative.

1. He wants to be free.

2. He wants to make up for his transgressions by fulfilling his promise to Fantine of taking care of Cosette and ensuring that she "will want for nothing."

By the end of the musical, Valjean dies a free man no longer on the run from Javert. His adopted daughter, Cosette, is happily married to Maria's, a rich, moral, young man who adores her and will make sure she is taken care, and she and her husband love and respect him, even after hearing his backstory.

Cosette

Cosette takes after her father and also has two goals.

1. She wants to know the truth about her father's and her own pasts.

2. She wants to no longer be lonely.

By the end of the musical, her father shares with her their backstories, and she is no longer lonely after marrying Marius who adores her and wants to spend the rest of their days together.

Fantine

Fantine wants:

1. Cosette, her daughter, to be taken care of

Even her own death is foreshadowed, she begs God to kill her if that means that Cosette, who she was told is ill, survives. The deal is taken. She dies, but her death is what makes Valjean feel guilty, forcing him to find and adopt Cosette. She also sings that she will see Cosette when she wakes, and at the end of the musical, as Valjean dies, Fantine returns from the dead, seeing her daughter again as she leads Valjean to Heaven.

Javert

Despite how often he talks about capturing Valjean, in his big song Stars, he doesn't mention Valjean once. Javert's goal is:

1. To be like the stars and fulfill his purpose in the universe.

While it's on a meta-level, he does so. Javert is consistently the reason the narrative moves forward and when he no longer is able to fulfill his purpose, he "falls" as he describes the stars doing when they are no longer able to fulfill their purpose.

Marius

Marius is interesting when he sings because he never truly states a want other than being with Cosette. He makes requests of other characters and describes how he feels in the moment, but he doesn't truly show unhappiness with his situation. If I had to say what his goal is, then I'd say he wants to belong, to be a part of something. He first has this belonging from being one of the barricade boys, but by the end, he has found the sense of belonging he wants from being with Cosette.

Eponine

Eponine wants:

1. Marius to love her, to be beside her, to show her that he cares for her.

In A Little Fall of Rain, Eponine gets the one thing she's always wanted. Marius is not thinking about the Revolution, or pining for Cosette, or calling her a tease. Marius holds her and tells her he cares about her as she dies in his arms. Then he goes into battle the next day with her name on his lips.

Gavroche

Gavroche is a literal child and also the smartest, most competent character in the musical. I won't hear arguments on this fact.

He wants:

1. To be a part of the revolution and show his worth to the barricade boys.

He does, repeatedly. He's the one who tells them that General LeMarque is dead, that they can't trust the Thenardiers, and that Javert is a spy.

As he tells Javert after outing him as a spy and police inspector:

"And little people know

When little people fight

We may look easy pickings

But we've got some bite"

Gavroche is not just some little kid or Dickensian orphan waif that lets the world push him around. He bares his teeth and fights back until he dies in battle.

The Thenardiers

The Thenardiers want:

1. Cash

2. No repercussions for their actions

They get what they want. They get paid by Fantine for 'caring' for Cosette; they get paid by Valjean so that he can take Cosette away; and they get paid by Marius to go away when they show up at his and Cosette's wedding. They are never punished by the narrative in a way that matters to them. They are never arrested, and they never lose their meager wealth. They are bolder and more well off every time the audience sees them.

In their own words:

"Clear away the barricades, and we're still there! / We know where the wind is blowing / Money is the stuff we smell"

This line is especially hard to stomach because Eponine, their own daughter, was killed at the barricade (and Gavroche, a child, who is their son in the novel).

In the game of life, despite being horrible people, the Thenardiers, the "beggars at the feast," win again and again.

The Barracade Boys

As a collective, they want:

1. Their "little lives" to mean something. They want to take a stand and have an impact on the world.

They do. The revolution lead by the Barracade Boys changes the futures of every other character in the play, and, on a meta-level, we know that modern day, democratic France was created by the actions of revolutionaries like them. Yes, they die, but they all repeat several times that they do not mind dying in battle.

[popopretty]

Storm Bringer Spoilers (6)

One of my favorite scenes where Port Mafia went all out on Verlaine in CODE;4. I like this part because it introduced a lot of Port Mafia’s skill users that have never appeared in both the manga and the other novels. It was so fun to read. 

Dazai made some interesting statements and theories here too. I like the dialogue at the end, where he kinda slipped and let out some of his real emotions. 

PS: I can’t believe I actually typed out 5000 words! I was drafting this on my phone so I didn’t notice the actual amount of words. I know it’s not gonna be perfect and I am gonna make mistakes and I will want to punch myself so much but gosh, I am so proud of myself now!

...

The train driver put one hand on the handle, his eyes staring at the darkness in front of him.

Twenty-seven years of service. He is a veteran. He has held this handle through rains and winds, through the Great War where the bombs poured down like rain, messing up the landform.

Even for him, today’s job is unusual.

The train company he works for was bought out overnight. Together with the trains and the service schedules. Then he was ordered to operate a temporary ride. Yet there is only one passenger on this train. Even when he protested to his boss, what he got was only “stop questioning and just drive.” And then one more thing, “If you run away, it will be even worse.”

The driver took another look at the scenery in front of him. The trees have sunk into the darkness. All he could see were the silver railroad tracks and the yellow headlight. Those are the only guidelines to tell where the train is heading.

What his boss said might actually be true. Putting other cities aside, this is the unorthodox Yokohama. Anything can happen. Even if there is only one passenger, he has no intention to talk to them. If he does so, he might end up having to catch his cut off head with his chest.  _

At that moment, from the eternal darkness of the night that looks no different from the bottom of the ocean, he felt something moving.

His well-trained eyes managed to capture it from the distance. Is that an animal? No. Is it just the trees rustling? No.

That’s a person.

A person is standing on the track.

He pulled the break even before his brain went ”Oh no”.

The compressed air was released, and the train’s speed reducer made a violent metallic noise. But it was too late. The train bumped straight into that human figure.

However, that figure took the train’s hit. A tremendous force was applied on the train. The first car jumped forward. It was like they were being pulled, the rear cars also jumped off, derailed, rolling over into the woods. Like a rampaging huge iron snake, the train hollowed out a big area around it, knocked down a bunch of trees, before finally stopping.

The person who witnessed the whole event, Verlaine, smiled with satisfaction. He took the train head-on but suffered no scratches. He started walking. Towards the car with Mori Ougai. Jumping over the cars half-buried underground, getting through the cars whose electric system were starting to catch fire, he reached his target.

Mori Ougai was lying face-down. The train was fully flipped sideway, the walls become the floors and the ceilings became the walls. He was facing away from Verlaine, not moving an inch. From beneath his body, a pool of blood is slowly spreading.

He did investigate the target’s skill in advanced. It’s not the kind of secret that a formal spy like him cannot find out. Mori Ougai does not possess a skill that can withstand such an impact.

“Too easy.”

Verlaine muttered and approached his target. He is not as stupid to walk away without confirming if his target is really dead or not. He is going to check and if by some rare chances the target is still alive, he will finish them off for real.

Verlaine flipped Mori Ougai’s body over. Then his eyes opened wide.

That was not Mori Ougai.

That was a man he had never seen. He was wearing a wig and clothes to disguise as Mori Ougai. But Verlaine’s assassination preparation was thorough. He had set up a hidden surveillance device in the last station. And the images taken from there were definitely Mori Ougai’s.

When he grabbed the man trying to confirm his identity, suddenly a hand was put on his chest.

“Too easy.”

A powerful repulsive force coming from a skill blew Verlaine away. He flew through the glass windows and landed on the humus soil outside. He rolled further while scattering the soil, and hit his back against a tree before finally stopping.

”... Not bad.”

Verlaine push his hand on the tree to stand up.

He brushed off the dirt from his clothes and started thinking. The face he saw at that moment moment, the repulsive force coming from his palm. That was probably one of Port Mafia’s constituent members, the one who with the repulsion skill, Hirotsu Ryurou.

A double!

They knew about the hidden device and let Mori Ougai’s image captured on purpose, then quickly switched the double in. In other words, Verlaine’s assassination plan was seen through. Ever since he came to this country, he only knew one person who has the ability to outsmart him with such finesse. 

“Hello, Verlaine-san.” A small was sitting on the edge of a car, on top of the overturned train.

“Dazai-kun”, Verlaine said as he picked up the hat that had fallen to his feet. “I have heard the saying that age doesn’t matter when it comes to talent, but you are really frightening.”

“You are just bad.” Dazai said with a dry voice as though he was lecturing Verlaine. “This time you acted on your personal feelings too much. When you are like that, I can read all your moves. Why are you so obsessed with Chuuya?”

“Is it that strange for someone to be concerned about his brother?”, Verlaine said as he dusted the mud off his clothes.

“It is, a lot.” Dazai affirmed. “First of all, what made you believe so firmly that Chuuya was your brother?”

“What?” Verlaine narrowed his eyes.

“You saw that too, right? Chuuya’s original experimental body. Turned into bones and died.” Dazai spoke while swinging his legs that were dangling out of the train top. “That looks almost the same as Chuuya in terms of appearance. In terms of abilities, too. And a lot of other things in common. What if that thing was actually a skill-containing artificial life form, and the Chuuya who is living outside, whose only redeeming trait is being energetic, was the original one? Can someone like you who is not an expert, someone who has only browsed through limited materials from the past, see through that?”

“That is impossible.” Verlaine shook his head. “I’m not as stupid as to mistake the target in my infiltration mission. What I stole away from the lab nine years ago was undoubtedly the same as me, an artificial life-form.”

“If I look it up I will understand right away.” Dazai said casually. “Fortunately this time, the guys from the labs has demonstrated the method to rewrite the code formula inside Chuuya. If I capture some of those researchers using Mafia’s power, they will be more than happy to tell me how to read those codes. And then I will know which one Chuuya is actually. We have all the time in the world.”

“You seem pretty confident that Chuuya is human, don’t you?”

“I am”, Dazai laughed with a sigh. “There is no way a man-made string of code could create such a personality that I detest that much.”

Verlaine signed then started walking towards Dazai. His footsteps were heavy, as if he had to clean up a lot of tedious work.

“I can gently whole-heartedly explain to you the reason that was a misunderstanding... but now I have another job for you.“ he said, walking up the gentle slope that he fell from. “That is to spit out where Mori himself, not his double, is. It’s a painstaking job. Literally”

“So you have no intention to back off?”

“Of course not.”

Dazai didn’t look at anything, he gazed aimlessly into the air, “Is that so?”. Then he spoke with a disappointed face, “Then it is your loss.” A sniper bullet went straight for Verlaine’s head. Verlaine bent his upper body, and felt down the slope of humus. He rolled three times then looked up, looking at Dazai with stern eyes.

“Sniper?”

Before he could finish his sentence, yet another bullet struck Verlaine’s forehead. He almost fell to his side, pushing his hands against the ground to support.

“Your ability only works on things that you can touch.” Dazai said, swinging his legs as he looked down on his opponent. “That’s why the bullets that hit you will hit you. They just stop immediately. However, if we aim a larger sniper bullet, which has several times the velocity of a normal bullet, then it will still give you a blow the moment you use your gravity to stop it. Also...”

Dazai casually raised his hand.

From the top of the hill, through the gaps of the trees, from inside the humus, on top of big trees, more than fifty sniper bullets were fired at Verlaine at the same time. All the bullets pierced him, Verlaine growled.

Verlaine tried to hide under the shades of the trees while protecting himself by gravity. But even in the places he ran to, he got attacked from behind. Even if he tried to lower his posture to hide, the attack would come from above the trees. He had nowhere to run.

“To be able to set up this many snipers... in such a short time...”

A bullet pierced through Verlaine’s clothes and slid through his skin. It’s not a wound that could make him bleed, but there are so many of them. Ten shots in one second, then twenty, and more kept coming. It’s like the air that surrounds his whole body has become his enemies and attacked him.

Verlaine had no choice but to protect his head with his two arms and rolled himself up.

“You picked the wrong opponent, Verlaine-san.” Dazai chuckled. “I am an expert when it comes to dealing with gravity. Because no matter if I wake or sleep, the only thing I think about is how to annoy Chuuya.”

“Don’t underestimate me!”

While enduring the rain of bullets that were striking him, Verlaine grabbed a tree close by and pulled it out of the ground.

“You think you can kill me with this kind of rock throwing play? Verlaine swung the tree, trying to throw it. He planned to use the tree as a spear to crush the snipers who were hiding faraway in the dark.

However, that hand of his stopped halfway.

It was because the tree had been cut into pieces.

“Hoho, if I look closely, you look terribly like my subordinate.”

There was a flowing female voice as graceful as the sound of harp.

The burning bright red hair, eyes of the same color. Her crimson red

ombré looked like the color of ripen maple leaves. The most eye-catching thing was what floated beside her, a masked demon in a kimono. The demon was tall with long hair. She carried a sword of almost the same height as a child, as if it had no weights at all. The golden kimono melt into the air from her knees downwards, showing that it was not a real body.

“However, it was Mr. Brother who selfishly tried to poach our boy from us. I guess I can let that go after cutting off one of your limbs or two. So you’d better get lost quickly.”

Ozaki Kouyou. The Port Mafia’s young sword-woman. A powerful skill user who took Chuuya as her subordinate, accompanied by the golden demon, an embodiment of her skill, a beautiful beast.

Kouyou rolled a bright peony-colored umbrella on her shoulder. And then she twisted its handle and pulled it out. A silver blade appeared. A hidden sword.

“Mafia’s skill user?” Verlaine smiled like a beast. “But what can a mere ability user with two swords can do against gravity?”

Verlaine lowered his posture, ready to jump at Kouyou.

“Who said that I was alone?”

Verlaine’s body sank in.

Startled, Verlaine looked at his feet. The ground undulated like a snake, swallowing his two legs and even crawling up. 

Verlaine was caught by surprise. He got rid of the gravity of his own body and jumped up. He landed on a trunk of a tree nearby. But even the trunk that definitely looked tough started to liquify the moment his shoes touched. It reached for Verlaine, trying to eat him up.

“This is...” Verlaine leaped again. However, the spot he planned to land on already turned into a mud with a will of its own, opening its mouth to wait for him.

“Hahaha. Keep running, young man. Youngsters like you exist to entertain this old man. Please die quickly and offer your head to me.”

Coming from the darkness of the woods was a big, strong man who looked just like a big tree. A military uniform that has faded in places. His bristle looked like a sewing needle. He wore a judo belt around his waist, and wooden clogs on his feet The arms folding in front of his chest were as thick as a tree that has lived for hundred years.

Port Mafia’s elite, a veteran who survived the Great War. His nickname in the organization is “Colonel.”

He swung his arms like an ancient tree and squeezed his fist tightly in front of his eyes. At the same time, the ground started to muffle. The liquified soil, trees, even the overturned train, all rushed to attack Verlaine in the air. An skill user who can manipulate objects and turn them into liquids?

Verlaine kicked the first wave of liquified soil that came towards him and retreated backward. But the soil was also coming from that direction. Even if he tried to change his orbit to run, liquified soil was still coming from beneath his feet and above his head. If they touched him they would still be blown away by the gravity, but the liquid will start to cover up from the top again, giving no time for Verlaine to prepare a counter attack.

On top of that, as if to stitch up the gaps, there were sniper shots coming from all directions.

“Tch...”

Verlaine densified a small amount of dust in the air, and stepped on that to leap his body up. He wanted to take some distance. Abilities that manipulate things like Colonel’s, in most of the cases won’t work for things that are out of their sights. That’s why he planned to hide deep in the wood then throw a huge rock enforced by gravity to finish them off.

An odd thing entered Verlaine’s field of vision at that moment.

A watch.

A watch was floating in the air.

From the outside, it looked just like a normal pocket watch. A dial with numbers, a long hand and a short hand, a crown, and the internal mechanism peeking out from the edge of the dial.

The strange thing about it was that it had a size of a man’s upper body. Also, it kept turning around as if it was staring at Verlaine.

Verlaine, who possesses a wide range of knowledge on skill users, sensed the danger from that watch almost immediately.

He tore off one button from the sleeve of his suit and amplified its gravity until it weighted dozens of kilograms. Then he threw it towards the watch.

That button comet holding enough power to knock down a building, however, couldn't interfere with the watch. It smoothly slipped through the watch, knocked off trees and disappeared into darkness.

“You can’t destroy that thing.”

A gloomy voice came from the ground.

Verlaine diverted his gaze and without his notice, a boy was already sitting on the ground. He was hugging his knees with his two arms, looking miserable. He looked up at Verlaine.

“It’s no use. That thing looks at everyone. Including me, and you. We have no choices but to die. One day it will find us. One day it will catch up with us. It’s　“time”. It’s the enemy of us all.”

He looked and sounded miserably. His clothes were so long it became awkward. The hems were all frayed. The boy who was so skinny you could see his bones through his clothes glared at Verlaine and waved his finger as if he was telling him “Come here, come here.”

The two hands of the watch clicked and pointed to the number 12 at the same time. Immediately afterwards, the watch in the air was sucked into Verlaine.

That was not a metaphor, it was literally sucked into him, into his chest.

Being wary of the disappeared watch, Verlaine stiffened his body. But nothing happened. There is nothing within his sig...

The liquified soil twisted around his legs.

Startled, Verlaine shook the liquid off by gravity. Then he looked around. He had got pretty far away for sure. It was so strange that the liquified soil could chase him this close. Right after that was a shock. A sniper bullet hit his head. Verlaine span halfway in the air. He landed on the ground, scraping the humus to stop.

It was weird. The speed of the sniper attack went up. The speed of the bullet by the moment it reached him was so fast that even if he used gravity to bounce it back, he was also blown away by a corresponding force.

“Did they replace their guns or bullets with more powerful ones? No, this is...”

The ground liquified again. Verlaine jumped out to dodge, before being eaten by the soil. But the speed of the liquid tentacles that extended and followed him also increased. Verlaine took a quick look around. From the treetops that were hit by the sniper attack just now, leaves were falling down. They were not fluttering, they were dropping as if they were stabbing the ground. This means, the attack speed didn’t get faster...

“Was my time... slowed down?”

“Everyone will die before me.” the gloomy boy stared at Verlaine with dubious eyes filled with hatred. “Brothers, parents, everyone will be killed by time. But I will get away with it. With this special power of mine”

A skill user who meddles with time. For the first time, Verlaine got a cold sweat on his forehead.

Time manipulation is not just a powerful skill, it is a extraordinary skill out of this world. As far as Verlaine knew, there were only a few cases reported in the world. The fist on the list of those time manipulation skill users who are separated from the world’s reasons, was a former skilled mechanic, H.G. Wells. After creating the skilled weapons called the “Shell”, she disappeared and became the world’s worst terrorist.

The time manipulation type of skills tinker the basic principles of this world, and rewrite them at will. Because if you look from the universe’s perspective, time and space are equivalent. The time manipulation skill users hold the same power that can alter the world, just like Verlaine’s gravity. Verlaine whose movements have become dulled because of the time delay　was flooded with Mafia’s attacks. All the bullets, the swords and liquified soil.

Even if he tried to retreat, because his time has been delayed, he could only move sluggishly as if he was under water.

Verlaine’s expressions became stiff.

Dazai gracefully looked at the wooded area echoing with gun shots and roaring sounds. He looked down at the battlefield that had turned into a hell, with such a carefree expression that cooled down in the night breeze._

“This is the rule of this world.” Dazai spoke like he was singing. “It applied in all times and ages, all creatures, the absolute truth. In this world, a group is stronger than an individual. A skill user is stronger than a group. And then...”

Feeling the pleasant cold breeze coming from the blasts of the battle on his cheeks, Dazai smiled.

“... a group of skill users are stronger than one skill user.”

Verlaine pushed his body’s gravity to the max. With a powerful driving force that surpassed the effect of the time manipulation skill, he quickly escaped from the battlefield. Verlaine’s bones cracked at the sudden speed acceleration that exceeded his limit.

Even when the danger struck in front of him, Verlaine’s judgement did not falter. It was not yet a hopeless situation. He would retreat as much as he could, taking as much distance he could from the waves of skill attacks. Then he would fix his posture, manipulate the gravity of the bullets that managed to reach him, repel them and knock down the skill users, one by one. That would be his win then.

Only three skill users. Not too much of a difference in strength.

Suddenly, blood came out from his skin.

Verlaine looked at his cuffs. The skin under his clothes was peeled off, exposing the flesh inside. But only a little blood came out. He felt almost no pains.

He landed down on the ground as a reflex. Upon touching the ground, the skin inside his shoes also came off. He could tell by the slippery feel from it. But again, there was no pain.

That was a new skill attack. But the true nature of it immediately became clear.

His breath was white.

His skin is frozen, there was frost on his eyelashes.

“Let us be held. By the frozen love. Let us be held. By the frozen flower that breaks in its full bloom.” the new skill user appeared, singing with a thin and screechy voice.

Long, white hair, white fur around her shoulders, white breath. And a crimson red rose on her chest. Every time the woman takes one breath, the trees around her froze, cracked up and snapped due to the water inside it freezing and expanding.

Verlaine understood it right away.

A skill user who can cool off the temperate. The reason why his skin was peeled off earlier was because the skin was exposed to the low temperature and got stuck to the inside of his clothes and shoes. His body really became that cold in just an instant. He was frozen from flesh to born, but not much time has even passed.

A super dangerous skill user. Freezing attack does not involve physical clashes. That’s why he can’t dodge them using gravity. It is his natural enemy

Another sniper bullet hit Verlaine’s shoulder. He groaned in pain.

The bullet was cold. It froze by the time it touched his skin, forming a frost pillar. The low temperature invaded into him through the wound, eating up his flesh.

The enemies attacks were too synchronized. Time delay, freezing, sniping. Apparently, it was a tactic that had been put together to block all of Verlaine’s strengths and exploit his weaknesses. There is still something strange about this. He has been retreating at a considerable speed since a while ago, yet the gunshots never stopped. His escape route was totally seen through. Normally if he ran at this speed in the woods in the middle of the night, he would immediately disappear from the telescopic sight. Losing the targets, sniping attack would definitely become impossible. So why?

“Hihihihi, what a sweet face. Hey, just between us, but if you cry and slobber and apologize here, maybe I will let you go this time?”

The voice was close. Really close.

Verlaine turned to that direction.  No one was there... No.

In the middle of no where, a hole the size of a coin was opened. It was like the space was burnt and hollowed out, and on the other side of the hole was another different space. From that side, a black eye was staring at this side through the hole.

“Yes, it’s me. You are being watched. From now on, you can be assured even if you lock your toilet door hihihihi”

The hole was so small to see the entire thing. But that eye alone is enough. The eye was filled with malice. It had been watching Verlaine, chasing him and reporting about his positions all the time.

Verlaine fired a rotary kick by reflex at the hole.

“Oops.”

Right before being hit, the hole closed up and disappeared.

“I’m here.”

The voice came from behind. When he turned around, the same hole had been opened in a different place, looking straight at Verlaine.

That was the type of skill that connects space and monitor the targets. The skill user was probably sitting in another safe place, and monitoring the whole battle using their space connection skill. He couldn’t attack the actual skill user. If he tried to touch it, it would close immediately so he wouldn’t be able to destroy it using gravity.

Just how many skill users they have thrown in this battle?

“Hihihi, I have a present for you. From Port Mafia with love.”

From the coin-sized hole, flower petals flew out. Countless petals surrounded Verlaine then started to shine white. Yet another new skill.

The moment Verlaine tried to take a quick avoidance action, all the flower petals exploded at once.

From the train where he sat, Dazai could see the light from that explosion very clearly. The white light split open the woods at night, the afterglow burnt into the night sky.

Dazai looked at that scene, he was grinning.

“How is it going, Dazai-dono?”

From inside the train, a middle-aged man appear. He was wearing the boss’ outfit. He was the one who played the boss’ double, Hirotsu.

“As you can see, it is going well. So well that it is boring.”

In the direction he was pointing, the explosion sound was echoing, trees were falling, sniper flashes and low frequency noises were ringing non-stop.

Hirotsu took off the wig, put on the monocle he always has on, and narrowed his eyes.

“As one would expect.”

“Of course, I had to earn a lot of time to prepare all this. “ said Dazai, who was crossing his legs elegantly like a royal. “Chuuya and I had a terrible hard time fighting Randou-san. So this time I came prepared. Just to kill Mr. Assasin King from Europe, I had to gather a total of 422 people from the combat troops and 28 skill users. That is the full strength that Mafia can put in now.” At the scene where they were looking, the cold air and gun flashes kept shining. Verlaine tried to escape by threading his way in between the trees but a yellow-white ray burnt off the whole night sky, blocking that escape route. That was yet another skill user.

The plan was extremely simple. Setting up a trap and waiting. Chuuya and Adam drafted the same tactic before to defeat the Assasin King. The plan that Dazai carried out was basically the same. Identify the next target, set up traps around that target, and ambush Verlaine from behind when he appears.

The only difference between this and Chuuya’s plan is the scale of those traps. What have been set up as traps this time, was the entire Mafia’s overwhelming combat unit. The result was a one-sided destruction.

“We can keep this battle going for the whole night.” Dazai said as if he was whispering to Verlaine from far away. “Verlaine-san, you are a flawless assassin. With that vivid skill of yours, you have never once been traced down and surrounded like that, haven’t you? That’s why you have no experiences when being cornered by such a skill users organization. Even Randou-san was afraid of that dangerous flawlessness of yours.”

Dazai took out the leather notebook.

Rimbaud’s memoir. The journal Rimbaud had kept about the birth as well as full accounts of skill user Verlaine.

“I mourn for you, Verlaine-san.” Dazai put his hand on the notebook and said as if he was praying. “I mourn not for your death, but for your birth. No one mourns for you for being born. The only one who does is you yourself. That is the reason you fights... I think you are amazing. You despise the fact that you were born, you despise your own power, you despise the world. And by doing that, you came to accept your meaningless life. How wonderful that is. I don’t have that kind of courage. That’s why I wanted to talk with you more. But this is already goodbye.”

Dazai stood up, turning his back on the battlefield in front of him. He walked away.

“Dazai-dono?”

“Report to me when it is done.”

Dazai’s voice powerlessly fell to his feet. He walked away.

The next moment. A black way swelled over the battlefield.

...

[calpalirwin]

Come Back

Summary: It was a standard routine mission gone wrong in all the worst ways possible, or so the world, and most of the Avengers, was led to believe. 

A/N: When my 5sos writing addiction crosses paths with my superhero addiction. Beta-read by @jessalyn-jpeg​ thank you!!!!

Word Count: 10.8k

And away, and away we go!

__

“Hostage situation,” Ashton said, slapping the folder down in the middle of the table. 

Y/N’s fingers grazed the manila folder emblazoned with a giant “MISSION” stamp in the middle of it. Fuckin’ subtle, she thought with an eye roll. 

“Am I boring you already?” Ashton all but snapped at the woman, his arms crossing over his chest.

She raised her gaze to meet his, holding it steadily. Aside from Calum and Michael, Y/N and Ashton were the closest in age, with Y/N having the advantage over the man, a fact she knew he despised even though she graciously allowed him to take the lead at every opportunity. Leading had never been her cup of tea, but it was definitely Ashton’s, the arrogant little bastard. “Not at all,” she said sweetly, flashing him a smile. “Captain,” Y/N added as an afterthought. 

Ashton pinched the bridge of his nose, shifting his stare over to Calum, seeing if he’d help tame the woman’s snark, so that Ashton could get on with the team meeting, preferably without a headache. Calum just gave his sister a small shove, which she gladly took as a way to knock into Michael on her other side, the blonde’s arm going to rest along the back of his girlfriend’s chair.

When Ashton cleared his throat, Y/N rolled her eyes again. “Oh, just get on with it, you prat. Hostage situation. And ready? 3, 2, 1, action!”

“Yes,” Ashton said, his tone taking on the edge that was aptly referred to Ashton’s leader voice. “We, that is SHIELD, infiltrated a Hydra base about a month back in an attempt to get a spy on the inside. Problem is, that SHIELD agent was working with Hydra, and led our men straight into a trap.”

“And women,” Y/N added.

“Yes, and our women agents as well, thank you, audience participation.”

“So our task is to do what exactly? Search and rescue?” Luke asked, leaning back in his seat.

“Pretty much, yes.”

“Great…” the blue eyes rolled.

“Yeah, it’s not exactly glamorous, but it’s well within our authorization to carry out ourselves.” Ashton puffed out his chest a little, like he was proud to be trusted with such a high class mission. 

“Blow up New York a few times saving the world and everyone’s a critic…” Y/N joked half-heartedly. “Face it, Ash, we’re an over glorified search and rescue team. Just tell us when we’re headed out.”

“Jet leaves in a half hour. Folder contains more details regarding our individual parts and a map of the compound.”

Luke’s face lit up at the potential that individual assignments might have a little bit more glory to them, eagerly snatching the folder and passing out the packets inside to each team member before tearing into his. “Aw! C’mon!” he groaned, tossing the papers back on the table. “We never get anything cool anymore…”

Y/N kept her quip about how Luke should speak for himself to herself, as she glanced at her own personal assignment. Fuckin’ hell…

“You alright, babe?” Michael asked, his fingers rubbing at her neck as he started to pull his arm back across her chair.

She crumpled her assignment in her fist. “Hmm? I’m fine,” she grinned, kissing his nose.

Michael blew out his air in a huff, “Yeah, I know the mission’s kinda bullshit action wise. But when we get back we can play with these new arrows I’ve been working on. These ones have tracking technology, so even if I was to miss, I wouldn’t.”

“Aw, but you never miss a shot.”

Michael smirked, “I know. But now you guys can use them too. Doesn’t hurt to pick up an extra skill.”

“Sounds like a date,” she said, this time pressing a kiss to his lips, savoring the moment. In a couple of months to a year, she added in her head, because what Michael didn’t know, and what she couldn’t tell him, was that these were going to be their last moments with each other for a while.

~~~

Exactly a half hour after Ashton had dismissed his team, the group of five sat strapped in the jet, the engines rumbling as it took off, headed for the Hydra base. “Everyone has their assignment?” Ashton asked, eyes darting across everyone.

“Yes, Dad,” they all mock-saluted.

The hazel eyes rolled, and his jaw ticked in annoyance. “If someone else wants to be leader, be my guest.”

“So then I could be the prat everyone hates?” Luke scoffed. “No, thanks.”

“Aw, Luke. We’d hate you regardless if you're the leader or not,” Michael joked, clapping the other man on the shoulder.

“Hehehe,” Luke laughed in a high-pitched, mocking manner.

“Nobody has a problem with you being leader, Ash. You know this,” Y/N said. “Plus we all know that you’re just the one relaying orders from the higher ups. You’re just better at it than the rest of us. I mouth off too much, and these three are babies. Face it, you’re the perfect soldier.”

Ashton’s expression softened a bit at her words, the closest thing to a compliment she’s ever given him. “Thanks, Y/N. That means a lot.”

“Oh, save it. It doesn’t make you less annoying.”

“Babies? Who are you calling babies?” Michael asked, poking a finger in his girlfriend’s shoulder.

“Yeah!” Calum huffed. “No babies here!”

Y/N laughed, reaching out to pinch Calum’s cheek. “You will always be a baby to me, baby brother.” Then she turned her attention to Michael, “And you? You’re just my babe,” she grinned, kissing his nose.

“And me?” Luke asked, perking up his seat.

“A literal infant,” she grinned wider while everyone else nodded, including Ashton.

The rest of the jet ride was spent doing last minute training (Ashton), reviewing personal assignments (Y/N), tinkering with new technology (Calum and Michael), or sleeping (Luke) until Ashton called everyone back for a quick meeting.

“We’re approaching our drop off point.”

“Drop off point or…?” Luke whistled before slamming his hand down on the table. “Jumping point?”

Ashton held up 2 fingers, and Luke grinned, pumping his fist in small victory. “We can’t risk the jet getting anywhere near their radar, so we’re landing roughly here,” Ashton continued, pointing at the map. “Hydra base is here,” he moved his finger to where there was a giant red circle. “And safe to assume it’s heavily guarded on the outside.”

Y/N studied the distance between where Ashton said the landing spot was versus where the base was. “So we’re landing about a mile out, and we’re just gonna knock on the front door, hoping they let us in?”

Ashton snorted. “God no. Well, kinda. Luke’s breaking in to shut down their security protocols. From there, Cal should be able to hack and override their system. Mike keeps our path clear from the outside. Making our job,” he waved a finger between Y/N and himself, and Y/N gulped wondering how much he knew about everyone’s personal assignments, “easier for helping Luke get the hostages out.”

She breathed in relief. Good. Ashton was under the usual impression of personal assignments from previous missions, and not the other, slightly more complicated bit to the otherwise usual mission. Luke, with his ability to shrink and grow with the push of a button, courtesy of Calum and Michael’s technology, was the thief. The one with the power to get small enough to squeeze in anywhere unnoticed. Which set him up perfectly to gain security access for Calum, who could then override any system remotely, alongside piloting his drone for extra security coverage/fighting power. Michael usually hung back with Calum to keep Calum company, while being both an extra set of eyes, and an extra fighter with his hundred percent success rate as an archer. Which left super soldier Ashton, and non-super soldier, but highly trained martial artist Y/N to provide the bulk of fending off enemies. A ragtag team of not exactly super, but definitely better than your average SHIELD agent, SHIELD had dubbed the Avengers. “Sounds like we should get ready to jump then.”

While jumping was Luke’s favorite part of the mission, the rest of the team paled a little standing in the doorway of the jet, air rushing all around. But when Ashton yelled “Go!” they all jumped, Luke first with a whoop of “Showtime!” Y/N sucked in a breath, following Luke out and grabbing Michael’s hand to pull him after her, the ground hurtling upwards at her. 

“Pull!” Ashton’s voice directed in everyone’s ears, and five parachutes deployed in unison, Y/N jerking wildly with the pullback.

“Whoa, easy there,” Michael’s voice was both in her earpiece and shouting above the wind, his hand squeezing hers. “You’re good, babe.”

“Ugh, I fuckin’ hate that part,” she groaned, her stomach churning.

“And I hate this part,” Calum groaned along with his sister, before all anyone heard was his feet hitting the ground and his string of curses as his body rolled with his landing.

“You gotta learn to land better,” Y/N and Ashton both scolded, as Y/N’s own feet touched down, and she ran a little with the momentum so she didn’t roll like her brother.

“You gotta learn to land better,” Calum mimicked as he picked himself up off the ground, shooting Luke a glare, “What are you so fuckin’ happy about?”

“That shit is the fuckin’ best!” Luke whooped in a whisper. “Fuck yeah! I’m pumped!”

“Good,” Ashton chuckled. “How do you feel about more flying?”

“Aw sick! Is Michael gonna shoot me?!”

“Not the way I’d like to,” Michael grinned sarcastically, reaching behind him for his bow and arrow. “Shrink down, giant man.”

While Luke shrunk down to the size of a tic-tac, Ashton started instructing Michael on where to shoot, but Michael brushed him off. “Yeah, yeah. Close enough to get him inside, but not anywhere that’ll draw attention. Cal, you got eyes yet?”

“Yeah, but I’m not gonna be able to get the drone in there until Luke gets in so I can hack the system.”

“That’s fine, I got it,” Luke said in the ear piece. “Cal, I’m on your right shoe. Lift up?”

Calum bent down to pluck up Luke, placing him carefully on Michael’s nocked arrow. “Just tell me where I’m aiming, Cal,” Michael said, breathing steadily as he pulled back his bow.

“Quarter inch to the right,” Calum directed. “If you aim low, Luke can run in from the ground, or if you aim high, there’s a branch that he can access the second floor from. Shooter’s choice.”

“Security’s on the second floor,” Luke and Michael both said, and with that, Michael inhaled, and on the exhale, sent Luke and the arrow flying towards Hydra, undetectable.

“And now we wait,” Ashton commented, stretching his arms up over his head. “Y/N, we-”

“Won’t have much time between Cal hacking the system and Hydra finding out. And Cal and Mike can only provide so much coverage while staying out of sight. So we’re on a time clock of maybe 5 minutes if we’re lucky. I know, Ash. I go left, you go right?”

He nodded. “Get ready to run.”

Y/N glanced at Calum. “How much time before Luke gets into the system for you?”

“Thirty seconds. Make it quick.”

She turned to Michael, tears brimming up in her eyes. “Aw, babe. It’ll be fine,” he chuckled lightly, kissing her.

“I know,” she answered in a shaky breath, resting her forehead against his, committing everything to memory from the sharpness of his green eyes, to the pink tint of his lips. To his calloused fingertips as they cupped her face, and the scratch of his beard under her own hand. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he chuckled again. “Now go kick some ass.”

“Luke’s in. 15 seconds,” Calum told Y/N and Ashton, so Y/N kissed Michael as deeply and fiercely as she could, clinging to every bit of those last 15 seconds. “2… I’m in. System’s down.” But Y/N wasn't ready to let go yet.

“Y/N!” Ashton growled harshly, dragging her by the back of her shirt and then shoving her forward. “Fuckin’ move!”

She swallowed her storm of feelings, shutting that part of herself off, and switched fully into Mission Mode, ignoring Calum's chuckle of “Damn, what kind of good luck kiss was that?” and Michael’s shy but proud, “I dunno, but I ain’t complaining.”

With the security breach came the storm of chaos that allowed Y/N and Ashton to enter the compound without raising any serious flags. With Ashton headed to the right flank, Y/N went left, and the first chance she had, she took it.

The Hydra soldier looked to be about her size, their attention not zeroing in on her until Y/N already grabbed them in a chokehold. “Sorry about this,” she whispered as she snapped their neck in a swift motion, then dragged them into a nearby supply closet. “Ash, Y/N, I located the hostages. Where are you?” Luke asked in the earpiece.

“Coming up on your right, Luke,” Ashton confirmed.

“Got in a small tangle, be there soon,” Y/N grunted as she started switching clothes with the body.

“God damn it, Hood…”

“Which one?” both her and Calum asked with an amused glint, their favorite little bit to annoy their captain.

“You know which one,” Ashton hissed. “Cal, time estimate. Mike, coverage report. Y/N, get a move on, seriously!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Y/N muttered before taking out her earpiece and stomping on it, leaving it with the dead Hydra soldier along with her tracker just outside the doorway of the supply closet. “Just not the way you think,” she then muttered quietly to herself before hurrying after the other Hydra soldiers, running for the back of the compound. “What the hell is going on?” she snapped at one of them, putting as much authority in her voice as she could.

“It’s the Avengers. Initiating protocol 78. Get in a vehicle and get out. 2 minutes until denotation.”

Denotation?! Son of a bitch… Ashton and Luke were still getting the hostages out. She had to warn them, but… SON OF A BITCH!

Y/N shook off the panic and kept moving, trusting that Ashton and Luke knew what they were doing, and that Calum and Michael could keep them safe and aware of the limited time before the whole base went up in a fiery explosion. Her priority wasn’t on the rescue mission anymore. It never had been. Hers was to carry out the original mission that had resulted in this mission in the first place. Get into Hydra. Learn what they had planned. Destroy them from the inside. But damn, it would be a lot easier if she didn’t have to hide it from the guys. Her guys. Her baby brother. Her boyfriend. I’m safe, she screamed in her head. I’m safe! Look after each other, please!

While she got herself onto a vehicle headed out, she caught a glimpse of Ashton and Luke herding people out through a side gate and into the neighboring woods.

“Hood, where the fuck are you?” Ashton hissed

“Which one?” only Calum responded, then, “Shit… Y/N?!”

“Cal, where is she?!” Ashton and Michael demanded at the same time.

“I- I don’t understand. Her tracker is still by the left side of the compound where she went in.” Calum started fiddling around with the drone, trying to find his sister with it. “Y/N? Y/N, do you copy?”

“Luke, take the hostages back to Cal and Mike,” Ashton instructed, his voice tight, but controlled under pressure. “Cal, where did you say she was last?”

“To your left. 50 yards. She should be right there, Ash, I don’t understand!” His voice was high with panic. 

“I don’t see her,” Ashton reported, and there was a loud bang as he smashed his fist against something. “I don’t fuckin’ see her!”

“Maybe she’s on her way back!” Michael said hopefully. “Maybe she was helping clear the way for you and Luke. You know she can’t turn down a fight.”

“Heh,” Ashton chuckled. “Yeah maybe. I mean, these trackers and earpieces only stay on so well when you’re kicking some serious ass, ya know?”

“Exactly,” Michael chuckled in relief. “It’s Y/N we’re talking about.”

“Well let’s hope that’s the case, and that Ash is the fuckin’ Flash because guys… this compound’s gonna blow,” Calum spoke up, his voice still holding a small wobble.

“How much time?” Ashton asked, already running for an exit.

“40 seconds give or take.”

“Alright, I’m ou- whoa, shit.”

“What?!” three voices demanded.

“It’s Y/N’s tracker and earpiece. Just lying here in the fuckin’ hallway… and guys… there’s a body…” Ashton gave a small grunt as he flipped the body over with his boot. “Oh, thank God!” he laughed. “It’s not her! Probably just a scuffle where some of her gear fell.”

“Okay, well 1.) thanks for the heart attack and 2.) if it’s not her, then get the fuck out!” Calum yelled.

“Okay, but if it’s not her body then she’s fuckin’ missing, so where is she?!” Michael asked.

“She’s not with me,” Luke told them. “I haven’t seen her this whole time.”

“I don’t have eyes on her either,” Ashton chimed in, running as fast and far as he could before the compound blew.

“Cal, anything?!” Michael asked, now growing frantic as he scanned around, hoping to find his girlfriend lounging against some tree behind him. Safe. Laughing at her boys for ever thinking she was in harm’s way.

“No…” Calum choked, tears starting to spill down his cheeks. “C’mon, c’mon…” he prayed. “C’mon, Y/N, don’t do this to me.”

“C’mon, Y/N, where the hell are you?”

In the distance, Y/N heard the boom of the explosion, the vehicle shaking with the sound. She hoped her boys were safe and okay.  And they were safe. But they were far from okay. Because what she couldn’t hear was Calum’s broken sob and Michael’s heartbreaking scream of her name.

~~~

The jet ride back to headquarters was heavy with tension. To keep his mind occupied, Ashton set to work getting statements from the hostages. Calum and Michael sat in their seats, every muscle tightened, faces blank and frozen, tear tracks running down their cheeks. Luke was the only one who looked remotely comfortable, lounging against the wall of the jet, legs stretched out, his index finger tapping an unrelenting rhythm against his jaw as he hummed to himself.

“Would you knock it off?!” Calum tried to yell at Luke, but his throat was rubbed raw, so it came out as a hoarse whisper.

“What? I’m thinking!” Luke defended.

“Thinking isn’t supposed to be loud.”

“What are you thinking, Luke?” Ashton asked, his own voice clear, but weary as he ran a hand over his face and then through his hair.

“Y/N’s not an idiot,” he started.

“Yeah, no fuckin’ shit,” Calum spat.

Ashton held up a hand. “Let him talk, Cal. Go on, Luke.”

Luke straightened up, drawing his legs up, and resting his arms across his knees. “She’s not an idiot,” he repeated, studying his fingernails to keep his mind on track. “She always knew what she was doing. So she would have known that the mission felt off.”

“What do you mean, the mission felt off?” Ashton asked.

“Oh, c’mon, Ash. You couldn’t feel it, too? We got in and out without running into anyone trying to stop us. They didn’t care that we were getting out the hostages. They were evacuating. They had whatever they needed and were going to blow the place up whether we were there or not.”

“Okay. And what does that have to do with Y/N?” Ashton continued to prompt.

“I’m saying she knew. So she went in search of any plans she could get her hands on. Anything that might have gotten left behind in the scramble to evacuate sooner than they had originally planned.”

“So you’re suggesting that instead of helping us like she was supposed to, Y/N went off to try and get us more information?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Hmm…” Ashton thought, mulling over Luke’s theory. “That does sound exactly like the type of shit Y/N would pull…”

“BULLSHIT!” Michael screamed suddenly, jumping to his feet. “THAT’S FUCKIN’ BULLSHIT!”

“How is it bullshit?!” Luke yelled back, rising to stand toe-to-toe with Michael.

“BECAUSE IF IT WAS TRUE THEN WHERE IS SHE, LUKE?! HUH?! DO YOU SEE HER IN HERE?! CUZ I DON’T!”

“Obviously she’s not with us,” Luke scoffed. “But she got out, that I’m sure of. She’s somewhere.”

“Oh…” Michael nodded, his sudden drop in tone frightening. “So, what you’re saying is that WE left her behind! Our teammate! His sister! My girlfriend! And we just LEFT her?!”

“It’s better than the alternative of believing that she’s DEAD!”

“Oh, cuz that’s SO MUCH BETTER! What your theory suggests, Luke, is that WE either failed our teammate by leaving her behind, or she’s dead. Regardless of which of those options is the truth, WE FAILED HER! Whatever happened to her is OUR FAULT!” His hands clenched into fists at his sides and he raised them, whether to hit Luke or the wall behind him, no one was sure. Then, a sob was wracking through Michael’s body, his fists dropping back to his sides as his body crumpled. “Oh, God,” he cried quietly, curling up on the ground, his body shaking with the force of his cries. “Y/N, I’m so sorry… It’s all our fault… Fuck, I’m so sorry…”

~~~

Five months later found Y/N in a place within Hydra where she had enough access to send word out to SHIELD about Hydra’s plans: the creation of the an undefeatable army made up of highly skilled super soldiers injected with a recently perfected and modified serum that made Ashton’s super soldier skills look like child’s play.

The same five months found 4/5ths of the former team, smarter than they were before, but at the cost of diminished spirits as Ashton laid the all too familiar manila folder in the middle of the table, with its pitch-black “MISSION” stamp in the center.

Michael’s fingers went out to graze the stamp, his eyes meeting Calum’s as they shared a weak smile, both of them missing the way Y/N used to call the folder stupid for stating so clearly what it was. 

“We’ve received intel about Hydra's latest plans. It’s not good,” Ashton said, pausing for a sarcastic comment about how if Hydra was involved then of course it wasn’t good that never came. “They’ve not only modified the super soldier serum, they’ve also perfected it. A hundred percent success rate. Hostages don’t stay hostages for very long.” Again, he paused, waiting for a witty quip, but was only given nods of understanding. He let out a small sigh. “With the intel, we also got information of where their supply of the serum is, and where they’re making it. As far as our source knows, it’s just the one lab. Our mission is slightly different than what we’re used to as it’s a three-parter. The first part is pretty standard. Get in and release the hostages they have before they can be turned. The second part is also getting more information about the lab and the serum. We have to make sure that this is the only lab before we can go about initiating Part Three, which is destroying any and all labs we learn about. But today, our focus is on Part One and Two. Part Three will be carried out at a later date once SHIELD has time to go over everything and assess the situation.”

“After I get in to override security for Cal, I can start looking around for lab plans,” Luke decided. “If you can handle the hostages, Ash.”

Ashton nodded. “Yeah, I can handle that. Mike, I might need you closer to the action though, rather than staying back with Cal, and providing your backup there. If you’re up for it, that is.”

“I can get closer, it’s fine,” Michael replied numbly.

“Perfect. And how are those new trackers you and Cal have been working on?”

“Ready. And injectable. Once injected, Cal has access to turning them on or off, so we’ll never have to think about trackers again. Like potentially losing one…”

“And some of them can be fitted onto your arrows, yes? So maybe we can stick a lab worker or two with them?” Ashton followed up, ignoring the bitter edge in Michael’s tone.

“Yes.”

“Alright. We leave in a half hour.”

~~~

Y/N was patrolling around the upper deck of the Hydra base when both an alarm sounded and her earpiece crackled to life. “Security breach. Fuckin’ Avengers…”

“Secure the hostages and the lab,” came a different order.

“On it,” Y/N answered with several other voices, but she stayed rooted in her spot, knowing her old team’s moves by heart. Luke was somewhere in the compound, no doubt hiding in his shrunken version. Michael would have taken a closer position now for Ashton’s sake to help keep the path clear for Ashton to escort the hostages to safety. And Calum would be flying the drone, being everywhere the rest of the team couldn’t be, informing them of every move.

The familiar buzz of a drone a few seconds later came as no surprise, and she turned to the sound, grinning.

“Y/N?!” the drone’s speaker yelled in shock.

“Hi, baby brother,” she said, waggling her fingers in a wave. Then, her lips turned down in a mock-pout. “Sorry about this,” she told him, grabbing the wings of the drone.

“Yeah, me too,” Calum’s voice said, as he pushed a button that shot out an arrow as Y/N brought the drone down over her knee, cracking the device in half. She let out a slow hiss as the arrow passed straight through her shoulder, and then embedded itself in the wall behind her.

“Tell Mike to up your archery practice,” she told the broken drone as she dropped the two pieces, then took off.

“Y/N?!” Ashton, Luke, and Michael were yelling in Calum’s ear. “You found her?! I told you she was alive! Where is she, Cal?!”

“Bitch broke my drone!” was all Calum could come up with as a reply.

“Calum!” Ashton’s voice was sharp, Michael’s desperate.

“Give me a second, she broke my drone!” Calum grumbled, his relief about his sister being okay mixing with the rage only siblings could have for one another when one of them broke something of the other’s. “Okay, okay. Yes! Fuck yes! Whoohoo! Mikey-boy the tracker arrows work!”

“Of course they work,” Michael scoffed proudly.

“Well, I sort of shot through her, so I wasn’t sure if the tracker got in her, or the wall.”

“You shot my girlfriend?!”

“She BROKE MY DRONE!”

“You can build a new one,” Ashton told him with a sigh.

“You shot my girlfriend!” Michael continued to screech.

“I had to get the tracker on her!” Calum protested.

“Well, fuckin’ track her then, and get her out of there!”

“Cal, send me and Luke her location,” Ashton ordered. “Whoever’s closest tries to get her. But Luke, we gotta head out before they surround us. This isn’t like last time. They’re standing their ground.”

“She was on the upper deck on your side, Ash. She’s headed your way now, Luke. Towards the lab,” Calum reported, his eyes on Y/N’s tracker.

“Fuck, I gotta get out of here with these guys. Luke, get Y/N,” Ashton said, guiding a small group of hostages to safety.

“I’m in the lab, I got h- Oh, fuck me!” Luke’s words of hope died down as he glanced out the window of the lab. “I gotta shrink back down if I’m gonna get out of here. They’re fuckin’ swarming the lab. Ash, that’s good news for you because it means your path is clear.” He grabbed as many folders as he could gather in his arms, before hitting a button to shrink back down, just as Hydra soldiers muscled their way into the lab, looking around for anything out of place. “ ‘Scuse me. Pardon me. Just gonna squeeze past…” Luke talked aloud as he sprinted across the tops of boots headed for the exit. “You know, maybe I should get some of those trackers next time. Got plenty of feet to stab them into right now.”

“Duly noted,” Michael said, loosing a volley of arrows, sinking as many trackers into Hydra agents as he could. “Did you get Y/N?”

“No…” Luke replied in disappointment. “Ash?”

“No, I had to get out with whoever I could. Luke, you out?”

“Headed back now. I snagged some plans, if that’s any consolation.”

“That’s awesome, Luke. Thanks,” Ashton said, but there was a lingering note of dejection that they couldn’t get Y/N too. “She’s alive, and Cal got a tracker in her, which is more than we could have hoped for anyway.”

“I know. But still. Sorry, Mike.”

Michael shook his head, straightening his bow and quiver on his back before following after Ashton and Luke back to Calum. “It’s fine. Ash is right. We’ll work with what we got.”

“We’ll get her back. Don’t worry,” Ashton said, his words mostly directed at Calum and Michael, but also as a vow on his and Luke’s part. They’d get their girl back if it was the last thing the team ever did.

~~~

Y/N sat with her mouth set in a tight line as the nurse patched up her wound. “You super soldiers are all the same. The blank expressions. Immune to normal pain,” the nurse commented as they worked.

“Not a super soldier,” Y/N replied numbly, feeling the thread pull her skin back together. “Just a regular psycho.”

“Mmm,” the nurse chuckled. “And this was ‘just some light training,’ yes?” They gestured at the wound.

“Sibling rivalry gone too far, actually,” Y/N corrected.

“Mmm, well in my experience, few things come between siblings. You will be fine.”

“I hope so,” she muttered under her breath, but Y/N wasn’t so sure. How did she justify leaving her brother, her boyfriend, and the rest of her team in the dark about a mission they were all part of? How did she explain that she had to let them think that she had succumbed to the worst of fates? That she had to let them deal with the heartache of thinking she was dead, only to find out she was working for the enemy? SHIELD assignment or not, that wasn’t the kind of news she could just waltz back home with and offer up a simple “Hey, sorry I’ve been gone.” Y/N and Calum had suffered a lot between petty sibling issues, like when he first learned she was sleeping with his best friend, to much bigger issues regarding missions as part of the Avengers team. But this? Playing double agent while having to leave him completely in the dark? There was no coming back from this. And Michael… Oh, the betrayal he must be feeling. And mix that with the guilt and blind rage? If he was functioning at all, she bet that it was an ugly sight. A shell of the man she loved. Any ounce of humanity turned off to not drown under the pain.

Still, a part of her hoped that Michael or, perhaps even Calum, would turn against orders to try and stage a useless rescue of her, now that they knew part of the truth. And while she knew it would be a meeting that ended poorly on all sides, she could at the very least slip them a note. So back in the safety of her room, she quickly penned a note, then tucked it into her uniform.

~~~ 

Similar to last time, the ride back to headquarters was tense. Ashton kept busy by collecting statements from the hostages they managed to rescue. Then, he joined Luke in pouring over the statements and the documents Luke got his hands on in the lab.

Calum kept his eyes glued to the device that held the locations of all the trackers, watching the way Y/N’s blinked steadily.

Michael sat off on his own in sullen silence, his mind racing, hands clenching and unclenching into fists in a repetitive manner. He wanted to order the jet to turn around. To go back and get Y/N if he had to carry her over his shoulder himself. He was angry at his team, and himself for leaving her behind for a second time. Angry that he couldn’t stop failing her at every turn. But in the anger was a twinge of hope and relief. She was alive. Which meant that they could get her back. Luke had been right along. She knew what she was doing. But he still selfishly wanted her safe next to him. He wanted her laugh ringing out as she annoyed Ashton. He wanted to be able to smell her shampoo mixing with her sweat when she rested her head against his shoulder, complaining about how she couldn’t wait to get back and take a long hot shower. He wanted to be able to cover her cheeks in a blush as he whispered dirty words in her ear about the things he’d do when he joined her in said shower.

“Could you stop?” Calum asked, snapping Michael out of his thoughts.

“Hmm?” Michael hummed.

“The banging. Wanna stop?” It was less of a question and more of a command.

Michael looked down at his fists, noting the redness form along the outer edge of his palms and pinky fingers. “Oh, sorry,” he mumbled, placing his hands in his lap, not even aware he’d been banging his hands against the floor.

“I want her back too, Mike. Just as much as you do.”

Enough to break protocol and go rogue? Michael wanted to ask, but all he ended up saying was “I know.”

When they got back to headquarters, Ashton and Luke continued their work of looking over every word on every scrap of paper. Calum wordlessly joined them, his attention still held captive by the location tracker with it’s slow, steady blinks. No one thought it to be out of the ordinary, when Michael opted to head straight to the armory. Just hand waving and mumbles of “Yeah, could you?”s.

So Michael lugged the bag of gear into the armory, setting to the task of putting things out, and taking stock. But instead of putting his own gear away as well, he prepped it, having no intention of sitting around waiting for orders to be handed down. Not now when he knew where Y/N was. Fuck the rules and regulations. He was done with letting her down, letting her wonder why her team still hadn’t come for her. “Don’t worry, babe. I’m coming. I promise,” he mumbled under his breath as he left the armory, dropping his bag in the doorway of his room, then going to find the rest of the team. “Hey, Cal?”

“Yeah?” the man asked, not lifting his head.

“You got a spare one of those?”

“One of these?” Calum questioned, holding up the device.

“Yeah. I, uh… Just wanna be able to see her, you know?” he half-lied, making his voice crack for extra sympathy points.

“Yeah, course,” Calum nodded, pushing his way to his feet. He walked a few feet to a docking station that held various other forms of tech. “Here,” Calum said, grabbing one and logging into it. He tapped a few buttons until the familiar map pulled up. “This is just hers, and this,” he swiped across the screen to pull up a menu. “You can click to see the location of any tracker. We’re 1-4,” he twirled a finger to signal he meant himself, Ashton, Luke, and Michael. “And Y/N is 5. And the others are various trackers we got in Hydra agents today, or just not in use yet.”

“Thanks, Cal,” Michael took the device in his hands, then titled his head slightly towards Ashton and Luke. “I think I’m just gonna shower, then call it a day.”

“We’ll holler if we find anything interesting. Feel better, Mike,” Ashton told him.

“Night,” Luke mumbled, even though it was barely noon.

“Night,” Michael repeated, heading back towards the rooms, swallowing the rise of guilt of lying to his team. But they’d understand that this was something he had to do. Or so he hoped.

In his own room, he turned on music, then pulled a knife from his bag. Taking a few quick rapid breaths, he cut into the skin of his arm, prying his tracker loose. Hissing through his teeth, he dropped the tracker on his bed before bandaging up his arm. “Fuck,” he shuddered. “Argh! Okay. Here we go.”

~~~

Not being able to risk taking out the jet, it took Michael until well after the sun went down before he came within sight of the Hydra base with its giant searchlights, both lighting up the place, and casting it in menacing shadows.

Michael ditched the motorcycle well before he needed to as a safety precaution, before creeping the rest of the way on foot. His breath came out in huffed little clouds as he headed straight for where Y/N was. If the tracker was as accurate as Michael wanted to believe, she was right where she was when she’d had her skirmish with Calum earlier. Upper level deck, left side.

It was only as Michael got closer, that he started to realize he had no plan for getting in. “Time for a distraction,” he whispered to himself, digging through his bag for a grenade. “Showtime, bitches.” He pulled the pin and sent the grenade flying. He crouched low, covering his ears, and waited.

There was a loud bang, and then a startled scrambling from inside the gate, as a couple guards rushed out to check what had happened. Michael snuck up behind one, covering their mouth with his hand and dragging them backwards. The guard kicked uselessly at the ground, thrashing about as they tried to get free from Michael’s hold until they finally went limp. Quickly, Michael took their earpiece, before swapping clothes with the unconscious guard he left slumped up against a tree.

“What was that?” a voice was barking in the earpiece.

“We don’t know sir. We don’t see anything,” a handful of voices answered.

“Well if you find anything, put a stop to it!” the voice barked again.

“Did you find anything?” a voice called out in the dark, a flashlight swinging in Michael’s direction.

“No,” he called back quickly, heart pounding in his ears as the flashlight stopped advancing. “All clear.”

“Stupid fuckin’ pranks…” the other voice grumbled, the flashlight retreating. “Headed back in,” the guard spoke into the earpiece. “All clear.”

“Copy that,” a different voice replied.

“Well?” the first voice demanded, the small beam of flashlight turning back to Michael. “Are you coming?!”

“Right! Yes!” Michael said, willing his feet to move, and controlling his breathing to not give away his excitement as he crossed into the Hydra base. He still had the problem of needing to get to Y/N and get them out without raising any alarms. Which started with first getting away from the group of three guards he walked in with without anyone stopping him. So, not thinking too much about it, Michael slowed his walk before stopping altogether. And when his guard counterparts paid no mind, he slipped his way between buildings, hiding in the shadows as he checked the tracker.

He walked purposefully towards the stairs that would lead him to the upper deck, hardening his gaze and sweeping it across the grounds, like he was just another guard doing nightly patrol duty. “I don’t know what Luke’s always bitching about. This shit’s easy and I’m full-sized,” Michael remarked under his breath as he climbed the stairs and rounded a corner.

At the end of the walkway stood a single guard, their hair obscured by the black cap on their head. But even then, it didn’t matter. He’d know her anywhere, in any disguise. It was the way she held herself, her chin slightly tilted towards the sky, her shoulders squared but relaxed, her right foot always slightly shifted more forward than her left foot. He opened his mouth to call out to her, but the words died on his tongue. Was he just supposed to say “Hi” like he hadn’t left her for dead for five months?

It turned out, he didn’t need to say anything, as he took a step in her direction, his boots echoing off the metal floor. She whirled around, her dark eyes zeroing in on him. At the very least he expected a grateful smile as her head tilted slightly to the side, and she blinked slowly, trying to determine if her mind was playing tricks on her. But instead, she just fixed him with a cold steely look that sent the wrong kind of shiver down his spine. He cursed himself as he faltered in his next step. He had never once entertained the idea that she could have been brainwashed in all this time. “Y/N,” he said slowly, holding up his hands. “C’mon. It’s me. Let me get you out of here.”

“You need to leave,” she spat.

“Not without you.”

“Michael, I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“Don’t make me do this…” she whispered, bowing her head ever so slightly.

“Do what? I’m here to take you home, babe. C’mon!”

She crouched, tilting her head so her eyes met his. “Final warning.”

Michael shifted a protective stance of his own, raising his fists. “So this is really how you wanna have this reunion, huh?”

“It’s the only way.”

Michael dodged as her fist came swinging at his jaw. “Fine. Have it your way, then,” he growled, throwing his own punch that landed on her body. When she huffed in annoyance and slight pain, an apology was ready to fly off his lips.

She used his pause to tackle him, the walkway rattling with the force of his body hitting the ground. “C’mon, I know you hit harder than that,” she taunted, connecting a rapid succession of blows against his upper torso.

He twisted underneath her, bringing up his arms to block her hits. “Just come with me!” he begged, as he threw his arms forward, sending her skiddering backwards off of him.

“I can’t!” she yelled, charging at him again.

He did his best to block her attacks, but some hits still found a place to land, small grunts leaving his mouth at each connection.

“Fight back!” she yelled again, aiming for his jaw.

“No!” He snatched her wrist, as her knuckles started to brush into the side of his face. “I’m not gonna fight you, Y/N! This is ridiculous! I’m not trying to hurt you! I’m trying to save you!” he tried to reason as he spun her body so her back was flush against his chest, holding her tightly to him. “Baby, it’s me,” he whispered in her ear. “It’s me. It’s Mike. C’mon, baby. Come back with me. Come back to me. Please.”

A growl ripped out her throat as she brought one of her feet down on one his with as much strength as she had. And when Michael doubled over in pain, hearing the crunch of bone, her other leg kicked backwards, nailing him squarely in the chest, knocking him backwards.

“Y/N?” a voice sounded in both of their earpieces. “What’s going on?”

Y/N’s chest heaved as she stared down at Michael, who stared back up at her, struggling to find his breath. “Nothing,” she told the voice, before turning her back on Michael.

“Y/N,” Michael croaked out uselessly, coughing. His mouth tasted of blood and every part of his body felt like it was on fire.

He had no recollection of how he got off the compound and back to his motorcycle. Just like he had no recollection of driving all night back to Avengers headquarters.

He was, however, somewhat aware of his teammates' gasps of surprise when he dragged himself into the foyer of the building, as his body slumped against the cool tile, and he finally blacked out.

~~~

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” Ashton thundered, his hand coming down hard on the table.

Michael stared blankly past Ashton, not bothering to give a response. Ashton didn’t care about the answer anyway, and it didn’t change anything. And now he understood what Y/N was doing, and she was trusting him to keep what he knew to himself.

Upon his arrival, Michael had slept for close to two days before finally waking in the infirmary, his body still badly battered, but his pain at a manageable level. He had trudged his way down to his room, rummaging through his things when the note fluttered down. With shaking fingers, he opened it, reading the hastily scrawled words, “It’s the mission. I’m safe. I love you,” in Y/N’s handwriting. He barely had enough time to shove the note in his pocket before Ashton was knocking on his open door, looking more pissed off than Michael had ever seen. Wordlessly, Ashton had jerked his thumb in the direction of the conference room, and wordlessly, Michael had shuffled after him, ready to accept whatever fate awaited him.

“Well?!” Ashton’s voice cracked like a whip as Michael did nothing but blink at him.

“What was I thinking?” Michael asked, his voice soft. “Oh, nothing really.”

“Yeah, no fuckin’ shit, Mike!”

“Oh, lay off!” Calum snapped, coming to Michael’s defense. “Mike did exactly what we all wanted to do, but were too scared to do. He tried to get her back. If you wanna fault him for that, Ash, then you’re a bigger jackass than we all thought.”

Ashton sighed, sinking into his chair. “I’m not faulting him, Cal. But what he did was reckless. It could have jeopardized all the work we’ve been doing. I get that it’s Y/N, but we still have a job to do. No one person is bigger than the mission, even if she is your sister. I’m sorry.”

“Fuck you,” Calum said with a sad shake of his head. “Fuck. You.”

“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again, Ash,” Michael said, his voice still soft. “Can I go?”

Ashton rubbed at his face in agitation, letting out a small scream. “Yeah,” he said, his voice muffled by his hands. “Yeah. Go. Whatever. I don’t care.”

“So you’re just giving up?!” Calum asked, his angry and broken expression sweeping across his team. “Just like that? We’re done?”

“Until we get our new orders, yes,” Ashton told him.

“That’s BULLSHIT!” Calum exploded. “You!” He turned, jabbing a finger at Michael. “You’re just gonna walk away?! You go rogue to rescue her on your own, without me, and now you’re throwing in the towel too?!”

“You heard Ashton,” Michael shrugged.

“Oh, you’re so full of shit! All of you! Fuck SHIELD and fuck you lot! It’s Y/N! She needs us! She trusted us! How many times are we going to keep failing her?!” Tears fell hot and fast down Calum’s face. “Please!” he begged, his voice cracking. “We have to do something besides sit on our asses! Mike, please! You can’t give up on her! C’mon! I thought you were on my side! Mike! It’s Y/N… please…”

“No, it’s not,” Michael said bitterly. “It’s not, Y/N. This,” he gestured about his beat up body, “is not her.”

“Fuck you!” Calum cried into his hands, and let out a muffled scream of heartbreak and rage. “I fuckin’ hate you!” He raised his gaze to shoot Michael his best death glare. “I hate you, do you hear me?! I fuckin’ hate you! You’re giving up, you fuckin’ coward! You’re supposed to love her, you fuckin’ bastard!”

Michael tried to bite his tongue as Calum continued to hurl abuse his way, but the last few words of the attack cut deep, and he couldn’t keep his composure any longer. “I gave up?! Me?! I’m the only one who wanted to go back for her five months ago!” Michael went off. “I’m the only one who went back for her a few days ago! Not Ash! Not Luke! Not you, her fuckin’ brother! ME! I went back! So fuckin’ listen, and listen good when I tell you that everything that makes her Y/N is gone! It’s useless, okay?! She’s Hydra’s now. The quicker you learn that, the better.”

“I FUCKIN’ HATE YOU!”

“ONLY BECAUSE YOU HATE YOURSELF MORE AND YOU KNOW IT! We all have to live with what we did. You have to live that you didn’t have the guts to go save her yourself. I’m not gonna carry that guilt for you, Cal. I’m not carrying any of your guilt, or Ash’s, or Luke’s. Because bottom line is I fuckin’ manned up when she needed us, while you three sat on your asses. So go ahead and hate me. Say I jeopardized the mission, or that I failed her. I don’t give a fuck. Because at least I fuckin’ tried, which is better than the three of you can say.”

Michael could hear Calum’s scream echoing off the walls as he hobbled back to his bedroom. He could also hear, or rather feel, the slam of Calum’s own bedroom door a few moments later.

Michael eased his way on his bed, the sheets freshly changed after he had left his blood splattered tracker on it. He knew a new one had been injected in him at some point over his state of unconsciousness, and he briefly wondered if it was the same one he’d ripped out. No sense in wasting technology when it wasn’t broken, after all. Laying back into the pillows, Michael dug out the note, and the device that still had Y/N’s location, seeking comfort in her looped handwriting, and the steady blinking of the device.

~~~

It took another week before orders came down, and Ashton summoned them all into the conference room. Michael’s fingers brushed against the empty chair between him and Calum as he took his seat. It took more willpower than he cared to admit not to slug Calum when the other man growled lightly under his breath. He doesn’t know any better, Michael had to remind himself. If he did, he wouldn’t be acting this way.

Ashton set the manila folder in the center, and when no one moved, he dove right in. “Between the files Luke was able to get, all the statements we have, the information we’ve gained from the trackers, and the intel SHIELD has from their agent inside Hydra, we have all the information needed to bring this to an end, once and for all. This is an all hands on deck situation. SHIELD is officially running the whole operation. They’re taking care of the hacking and gaining control of Hydra’s operating system. They already have a unit assigned to deal specifically with destroying the lab. Our job is pretty simple. We’re just soldiers.”

“Actual action?” Luke asked, leaning forward slightly.

“Actual action,” Ashton said, smiling a bit. “Something I‘m sure we’ve all been itching to do for quite some time.”

Luke pumped his fist, “Fuck yeah!”

“And Y/N?” Calum asked.

Ashton sighed. “Based on personal experience, we can assume she’ll be fighting for Hydra. So yes, it’s a good chance she’ll be around. Ideally one of us comes across her before the rest of SHIELD so we can subdue her, and get her out safely. But she’s not our priority, and yes, before you start, I tried to convince SHIELD into letting us specifically deal only with finding Y/N and getting her back. But all I got in response was bureaucratic bullshit about how we were being employed to do a job, and how we aren’t exactly in a position to ask for any favors.”

“So play good little soldier, but if we see our chance, take it?” Michael guessed.

“Yes, exactly. And Mike-”

“I’m not fighting, I know,” Michael cut him off. “Do I at least get to come and hang out wherever we set up base camp? Help with security, and the like?”

“Yes, of course. You’re not being punished, Mike. You’re not fighting because you don’t have medical clearance. But you’re still coming along. All hands on deck.”

Michael nodded. “Cool. That’s… Cool. Thank you.” He was fully expecting to be benched, and expected to stay behind. A lesson from SHIELD about how even the Avengers had to follow their orders. But getting sidelined only because he was still injured? Well, that… Fuck, he could handle that no problem.

“Be cooler if we can finally get my sister back…” Calum muttered.

“We’re gonna try, Cal,” Ashton said.

“You said that last time, and look what happened.”

“So… half hour til take off, yeah?” Luke asked.

“Not quite,” Ashton chuckled. “We leave tonight to meet up with SHIELD at the base camp they’re setting up just outside of Hydra’s radar. Then we go in just before dawn. I’ll give a 30 minutes heads up before we head out though.”

~~~

After the worst night of sleep he ever remembered getting, Michael got up just as the sun was beginning to brighten the sky from a dark purple blotch sprinkled with stars to holding soft shades of pink around the edges.

He stumbled his way to the cafeteria tent, finding the rest of his team at a table, each clinging to their coffee cup like a lifeline. “How’d you sleep?” Ashton asked, as Michael took a seat.

“Like absolute shit,” Michael answered honestly. “You’d think for how high tech SHIELD is, the bastards would have found a way to make camping missions less miserable.”

“Gotta cut expenses somewhere,” Ashton chuckled darkly, taking a sip of his coffee. “Fuckin’ bastards…”

“Fuckin’ bastards,” the other three repeated in agreement as a group of higher ups appeared in the entrance of the tent.

“First wave rolls out in 10 minutes,” the one in the middle barked. “Report to your positions, and standby.”

Everyone in the tent gave half-awake salutes, and the group of higher ups continued on their way. Then slowly, between stifled yawns, people started getting up from tables, dumping their half eaten breakfasts, and half drunk coffees, before going to their places.

Luke drummed his hands on the tabletop, a grin breaking across his otherwise tired face. “It’s showtime, boys!” he whooped before pushing himself to his feet. “Let’s fuckin’ go!” He rested a hand on Michael’s shoulder, dropping his voice into a low whisper, “We got ourselves a girl to bring home.”

In spite of everything, Michael couldn’t help but laugh at Luke’s infectious enthusiasm. “Stay safe, guys,” Michael told them as his three friends joined the rest of the crowd dashing off to their assignments. 

Only after the last man had cleared out, did Michael finally get up himself. He made himself a tray of breakfast, before going off in search of one of the security tents. “Anything I can help with?” Michael offered the first person who looked in his direction. “Michael Clifford. Avenger.”

The SHIELD agent looked Michael over, with the boot on his foot, face still sporting a small bruise, and scoffed. “Here,” he said, shoving a clipboard in Michael’s hand that wasn’t clutching  his tray of food. “This is a list of everyone involved in the operation. Those of us staying to do security are already accounted for. But the rest have been given strict instructions to check back in when they return. Whenever that is. You can be in charge of checking them in by the triage tent.”

“Gee, thanks,” Michael muttered, tucking the clipboard under his arm. “Triage is…?”

The agent pointed to a tent with a giant hospital cross decorating the top.

“Cool. Thanks.” Michael forced a tight-lipped smile before making his way over to a long table set up just inside the coverage of the hospital tent.

“Back already?” another SHIELD agent asked, pulling a clipboard close to them. “Name?”

“Oh, no, I’m helping you guys with check-in.”

“Oh. Have a seat, then.”

“Hey, is Y/N Hood on this list by any chance?” Michael asked as he took a seat.

“Nobody by the name of Hood has been checked in yet.”

“No, yeah, I know. I meant… is she on the list at all? Like are we expecting her to be one of the people checking in.”

“You’d have to check the list. I dunno, sir.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Of course. Thanks anyway.”

“No problem.”

~~~

The sky had transitioned into a soft blue, the sun peeking out from behind the trees, suggesting that at best it’d only been an hour, maybe two since Michael took up residence at the triage tent. But it felt like a lot longer, and if something didn’t happen soon, he was going to lose it.

From his spot, he could hear the engagement of combat and gunfire, so he knew the mission was well underway. But, God, waiting for everyone to get back was so fuckin’ boring! And it wasn’t that he wasn’t used to being the one hanging back, because he was. But this wasn’t hanging back to provide back up. This was just waiting. Painfully boring waiting. His breakfast lay next to him, discarded and half picked over.

He was about three seconds from excusing himself to the bathroom just so he’d have a reason to get up and walk around, when a laugh rang out. A laugh he’d know anywhere. “Y/N?!” he shouted, scrambling from his chair.

The laugh paused, turning into a soft gasp. “Mike?!”

“Y/N!” Michael shouted again, rushing as fast as he could in the direction of her voice. “Y/N!” he called out for the third time, happily as he saw her pushing her way through a small group of SHIELD agents returning to camp.

“Mike!” she shrieked, before running full speed towards him.

He got his arms open just in time for her to crash into him. “Ow, ow, ow,” he winced as he hugged her tight.

“Oh, my God!” she said, holding him out at arm’s lengths. “Are you okay? What happened to you? Where’s the rest of the team?” the questions fell rapidly from her lips. “Oh, Mike!”

“I’m okay. Somebody beat me up pretty good, but I’m fine. The guys are off helping SHIELD play soldier. Oh, God, you’re back! And you’re you!”

“Did you get my note?” she asked, nuzzling her face into his neck.

“Yeah, I got your note.”

“So you forgive me?” Her brown eyes were wide and soft, and maybe even a little fearful as she peered up at him.

“Of course, I forgive you. You didn’t have to go so hard as to break my foot, but of course I forgive you, baby. Fuck, I’m just glad you’re finally here. For good. Safe.”

They could have stood there forever in their locked embrace. And they would have if someone wasn’t clearing their throat to get the couple’s attention. “Ma’am, we gotta check you in.”

“It’s fine,” Michael waved them off. “I got her checked in. It’s fine.”

The agent shrugged, and walked off.

“C’mon, let’s sit. We can catch up while we wait for the rest of the guys,” she directed softly.

~~~

“So Luke was the only one who believed I knew what I was doing?” she chuckled as Michael relayed the past five months of utter shit to her. “Remind me to thank him when he gets in.”

“Yeah, I probably owe him a proper apology for that still. Should probably apologize to Ash and Cal, too. A lot of things got said in anger that shouldn’t have.”

“At least you didn’t tell your best friend that you hated him,” Y/N pointed out, trying to calm Michael out of his remorse.

“Yeah, but still. We all sat around twiddling our thumbs until this last mission. I mean, we didn’t know what to do. We didn’t know where you were, or if you were okay. And when Cal told us you were okay like Luke had guessed, I dunno… I snapped. I thought I could rectify my mistakes by coming to get you myself. I never once thought that you were with Hydra on purpose. I hadn’t even thought you could have been potentially brainwashed by them. I just… I dunno. Went blind with rage and every other emotion I’d been swallowing since that first mission.”

She nodded understandingly. Then, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Anything.”

“How did you find me? When you came back on your own.”

Michael pulled the tracking device from his pocket, which he kept permanently in his pocket along with her note. “After the first mission, we upgraded our trackers. Well, we just used the technology we came up with for my tracker arrows, and injected them into ourselves. So that way it’s a little harder to dump,” he explained with a slight tease in his voice that made her giggle. “And we loaded some arrows with them too, obviously. I nicked a few Hydra agents with them. And Cal got you with the drone.”

“But when Cal shot me, the arrow went clean through me. He was too close. Entry and exit wound.”

“The trackers are set to eject at the first point of contact. Pretty nifty, huh?”

She hummed in proud approval. “Pretty fuckin’ nifty indeed. Fuck… I’ve missed you, Mike.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” he said, wrapping an arm around her and kissing her hair, breathing her in. “So fuckin’ much.”

“And I’m telling you,” a familiar voice growled, “that I have the bloody tracking device right here! She’s not at the Hydra base! She’s right… in… tada!” Calum said, sweeping the tent open.

Ashton and Luke’s eyes went wide, their mouths working to sputter nonsense. Y/N got to her feet, offering them all a shy wave. “Hey, boys.”

The magic words broke the spell, a giant grin painting each man’s face, before they were all rushing towards her in a gleeful cry of “Y/N!”

“Y/N, what the actual fuck?!” Ashton tried to scold but he was laughing too hard. “Do you have any idea how worried we were?”

“Sorry, Ash. SHIELD orders,” she giggled, hugging the man tightly. “Missed ya too.”

“So it was you! You were the spy on the inside! Fuckin’ brilliant!” Luke marveled. “Go in to rescue the hostages after our first spy betrays us, and replace them with a trusted Avenger. Wow… That’s fuckin’ genius!”

“So I take that as I’m forgiven for worrying you guys, causing you guys to fight amongst yourselves, and having to break Cal’s drone and Mike’s foot?” Y/N asked with a hopeful smile.

“Absolutely,” everyone but Calum told her.

“Cal?” she asked, turning to the man. “Baby brother? Forgive me?”

Calum narrowed his eyes, but there was no hardness to the expression, suggesting he wasn’t actually angry. “You owe me a new drone, first.”

“Deal!” she said, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug. “Fuck, I’ve missed you guys!”

“Glad to have you back with us,” Ashton smiled. “Guys, let’s go check in, so we can all go the fuck home, yeah?”

“Yes, Captain!” they all saluted with a laugh, heading towards triage to check in, and check out.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to get home and shower,” Y/N complained, her right arm thrown over Calum, and her left one thrown over Michael as she trudged happily between her boys once again.

“A good, long, hot shower sounds perfect,” Michael whispered against her ear. “And I think I can come up with a couple of other good, long, and hot activities for us after that shower,” he added, nipping at her playfully.

“Mmmm,” she giggled, leaning into him. “Think you got the strength for all that?”

“For you? Always. And we have a lot of making up to do. Might take days.”

She shivered against him, causing the other three to groan. “At least wait until after we get home before jumping all over each other, yeah?” Ashton asked.

“No promises,” they answered honestly.

Ashton groaned again. “C’mon, let’s give them a minute,” he said with an eye roll as he guided Calum and Luke forward to the line to check in.

Michael wasted no time in their friends’ quick departures to hook his fingers under Y/N’s chin, guiding her to meet him in a fierce kiss, fingers knotting in each other’s hair, breath rushing out of their lungs. “Promise me you’ll always come back to me,” he whispered when they had to break apart to gasp for air, resting his forehead gently against hers.

“I don’t think I can keep that promise, because I’m never leaving you again.”

“Good, because I’m never letting you go.”

__

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[shini--chan]

OKAY IMAGINE THIS - by some mirracle, s/o get teleported back in time to the pirate era and suddenly just drops from the sky as Antonio and Arthur are battling! Everything comes to a halt because a friggin woman fell from literally nowhere - Arthur is quicker and he captures s/o first, DEMANDING to know where she is from, how did she get here. Poor s/o tries to tell him the truth but it just isn't working. How stupid do you think Arthur is, huh?! He's not buying what you're selling love! (1/?)

Oh blazes, my dear. You’re trying to seduce me into writing a novel for you, correct. Well, not today (sadly) so I’ll be going ahead with my usual mixture of headcanons and snippets. Also, to everybody out there: Requests are still being accepted – I just can’t bring myself to close my ask box.

Also, I wanted to write Arthur’s and Antonio’s lines in an older English, but then I remembered what it was like having to read books from the 19th century for school and decided not to inflict the torture upon you.

Yandere Love Triangle: England vs Spain (Historical Pirate AU!)

As mentioned in the ask, you would be minding your own business, more or less, when you would suddenly be granted two of the wishes many harbour in their hearts: to time travel and have an adventure. Unfortunately for you, that wouldn’t happen with a forewarning and you wouldn’t have any chance to blend in. I wouldn’t say the battle would completely stop – with all the smoke and gunpowder and bangs going on only those close by would have a chance noticing.

Antonio was having a wonderful day. Yes, extremely wonderful. Life on the ship had been very good as of late, supplies running high and spirits even higher. They were reaching their climax now, with Spain showing England the business ends of sword and cutlas and cannon. It was a fitting sort of revenge being able to rob the lilly-livered bastard after he had stolen so much Spanish silver and gold.

The runt in question was baring his teeth and snarling like a cornered dog while their blades were interlocked, when Antonio heard a loud crash from behind England. It was probably just part of the ruckus of a sea battle, yet something – his fantastic intuition most likely – advised him to take a look. Of course, making the other combatant to move just how he wanted proved to be tricky, because Arthur had always been an uncooperative like blight and liked to fight dirty.

Yet he wasn’t a famed duellist for nothing. The sight that caught his attention when he got the opportunity to see it nearly caused him to lose an arm due to inattention. Men of both sides had briefly abandoned the battle to crowd around a failing figure that was desperately trying to free itself from a tangle of nets and torn sails. The onlookers whispered amongst themselves. The chorus of voices only grew louder when a very confused woman.

He found himself remarking: “It seems like you’ve finally started to develop a good taste in bed mates. Say, when did that happen, fishy. I always thought that you’d have luck to get a starved old tramp to warm your bed.”

“Shut up, Anthony!”, came the immediate reply, proving that the island nation wasn’t aware about what he was playing at. “Let’s not get on about you. Or should I tell your precious monarch about what you do in the stables when all the servants are gone?”

Pathetic little weasel. Enraged, Antonio brought the hilt of his sword down on that pale, cruel face and busted a pair of thin lips. “You should guard yourself from spreading lies, English pigdog. Or else the Almighty himself will smite you.”

Naturally, being the cunning demon he was, England used the opening Spain had provided him to barrel into him and send him flying overboard and into the sea.

That action would be quick to turn the tides, especially with so many men coming to aid their captain and help him out of water. This would result in Arthur then discovering you on his ship, probably when his first mate would rush to him and explain that a very strange women in a strange get-up had just suddenly appeared on the ship.

England would go and investigate and discover you surrounded by his crew, each of them having different responses to your presence and hence causing quite a commotion. He too would find you utterly alien – in your attire, in your mannerisms, even in your speech. But Arthur would be ever the pragmatic and reason that there would have to be another explanation to your appearance, one that doesn’t include miracles. But because he wouldn’t have either the time or the head space to deal with you at the moment, he’d have to thrown in the brig with strict orders to leave you alone. That would also be a way for him to torture you and force you to wallow in your worries and terrors.

The brackish water of the brig had long since made your feet wet, cotton soaks completely soaked through and chilling you. The stench it all emitted, and Arthur’s relentless questioning only further enhanced your discomfort.

He was prowling in front of your cage-like cell, like a tiger in the zoo. Only that he didn’t want to break out, rather that he was being continuously tempted to drag you out of your cell and onto the deck to be flogged for your insolence.

“At every turn you say to me that you’re from the future and that you don’t know how you came here”, he rehearsed the main points of your conversation with him. There had been a snarl on his face the whole time throughout the interrogation, his anger only making his voice curl tightly around the vowels and roll the r’s harder until you had to strain to understand him.

Mutely you nodded – you yourself had come to the conclusion that he understood you better when you kept your words simply, underlay them with gestures and expressions and spoke slowly.

In return, England shook his head and spat: “I do not believe you. Going backwards in time is impossible, it only goes forward.”

In any other situation you would have been inclined to agree with him. But you were living proof that there were glaring exceptions to that rule. Having unexpectedly landed in a long-gone era, you had first found yourself desperately grappling with your new reality. You had pinched yourself and read the letters on crates and barrel and closed your eyes and read them again to see if anything had changed – everything to assure yourself that you were dreaming.

You weren’t, nor had you taken any psychedelics, so this was painfully, gruesomely real. A fact that Arthur wasn’t excepting even with evidence right past the tip of his nose.

“Then how do you explain the ripped sails then? How do you explain my strange clothes?”, you questioned him. Then, after a brief pause, you asked: “How do you explain that I know who and what you are?”

You knowing that he was a personification of a budding Empire was a sore spot for him and made him even more suspicious of you. Something that was now backfiring on you.

He waved your words off with evident irritation and countered: “There are more reasonable explanation for all of that. That you’re a spy from a foreign country for example.”

Arthur would never cease with side-eying you and constantly be on the look-out for more logical explanations for your otherness. He would find them as well. Yet there would always be a little voice in the forefront of his mind nagging him that you are telling the truth and that he was wasting the opportunity of the millennia by blowing your words in the wind.

Those doubts would be the main reason he would keep you alive, along with his quest to extract the “truth” from you. However, there would be times when he would be tempted to fetch those thumbscrews from his quarters to see if you’d crack under pressure. Yet he would still restrain himself.

That wouldn’t mean your stay on his ship would be pleasant. You’d constantly be wet and cold, with rats crawling around the brig and your meals being a near inedible gruel that would be set aside for you.

Therefore, it would be an absolute relief when Spain would swoop in to rescue you. It would be an even greater wonder when he would actually listen to you and take into consideration what you would say.

“Tell me if I’ve got this right: In the future, you don’t send letters anymore that take months to reach another country. Instead, you send messages from small machines which the other person can read only after a few seconds, no matter how far away they are”, Antonio summed up what you had just cautiously explained to him.

You had been so shy when he had taken you aboard his vessel, so afraid he would just maltreat you like Arthur had. It had taken its time for him to convey that he was different from that godless brute, that he was civilized and patient. He wouldn’t disregard miracles and let them slip through his fingers. It had taken its own sweet time to coax you into telling the truth, but now you were sitting across him in his quarters, nodding enthusiastically.

“More or less, yes. There is a lot more to that, but that is the start of it”, you affirmed his words. You were relieved that you finally had somebody to talk to in this time were you previously had nobody. The food being served helped you weigh yourself into safety – fresh fruit and other perishable treats, an absolute luxury onboard a ship with a sizable crew. Indeed, you were becoming so comfortable with your host, your lifeline at this point, that you were betraying things about your future that you otherwise wouldn’t have.

And wasn’t yet about detail concretely concerning him, but you would both get there eventually. Spain was sure of that.

Meanwhile you didn’t notice the hungry gleam in his eyes when he purred: “Fascinating, my dear. What else can these things do?”

Being a Catholic, Antonio would be far more inclined to believe you on the time-traveling thing. He would also add two and two together on your strange clothes and their material, not to mention your different attitudes and behaviours and realise that you would be telling the truth. He would treat you kindly as a way of getting you to talk to him, eventually becoming the only person you could trust.

He would guard you jealously and ensure that you would only speak to him – having knowledge of the future would be a right he would reserve for himself alone. It would also cause him to become obsessed with you, keeping you in his quarters or leading you onto the deck at night for short walk. Of course, he would paint the whole isolating thing as he keeping you safe, saying that Arthur was after you.

The argument with Arthur would have far more validity then Antonio would even imagine. The wisdom that you don’t know what you really have until you lose it would be especially true in his case. It would finally dawn upon him that you were telling the truth the whole time and that would lead Arthur to beat himself up over it. A pursuit to recapture you would ensue.

Not to mention that it would make his blood boil to think that Spain would be courting you, persuading you to tell him everything he could ever want to know about the future. Besides  being a threat to his future existence and ongoing success, England would like to have all that knowledge himself and for himself only. Knowledge is power, after all.

Arthur would also miss you for your wit and endurance, fantasizing and dreaming of you to the point of obsession and never quitting his chase for you.

[izzyhavilliard]

This is for all the Elriel stans out there, all the scenes between Elain & Azriel that we have so far (let me know if I missed any). To keep you going until we get a book an Elriel book (which I’m confident we will.)

”The silk skirts of her cobalt dress whispering over the parquet floor.”

It might be a coincidence that she was wearing this color the first time she and Az met but we all know how much Sarah loves foreshadowing.

”A faint smile bloomed upon Azriel’s mouth as he noticed Elain’s fingers white-knuckled on that fork.”

”Elain said, ”It’s all very disorienting.” ”I can imagine,” Azriel said. Cassian flashed him a glare. But Azriel’s attention was on my sister, a polite, bland smile on his face. Her shoulders loosened a bit.”

”Elain said to Azriel, perhaps the only two civilized ones here. ”Can you truly fly?” He set down his fork, blinkint. I might have even called him self-conscious. He said, ”Yes. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We’re born hearing the song of the wind.” ”That’s very beautiful,” she said. ”Is it not - frightening, though? To fly so high?” ”It is sometimes,” Azriel said.”

”Rhys chuckled, Cassian’s wrath slippering enough that he grinned, and Elain, noticing Azriel’s ease as proof that things weren’t indeed about to go badly, offered one of her own as well.”

”Azriel arrived first, no shadows to be seen, my sister a pale, golden mass in his arms. He, too wore his Illyrian armor, Elain’s golden-brown hair snagging in some of the black scales across his chest and shoulder. He ser her down gently on the foyer carpet, having carried her in trough the front door. Elain peered up at his patient, solemn face. Azriel smiled faintly. ”Would you like me to show you the garden?” She seemes so small before him, so fragile compared to the scales of his fighting leathers, the breadth of his shoulders. The wings peeking over them. But Elain did not balk from him, did not shy away as she nodded - just once. Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm. I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, ”Beautiful.” Color bloomed high on Azriel’s golden-brown cheeks, but he inclined his head in thanks and led my sister toward the back doors of the garden, sunlight bathing them.”

”Elain sat silently at one of the wrought-iron tables, a cup of tea before her. Azriel was sprawled on the chaise longue across the gray stones, sunning his wings and reading what looked to be a stack of reports - likely information on the Autumn Court that he planned to present to Rhys once he’d sorted through it all. Already dressed for the Hewn city - the brutal, beautiful armor so at odds with the lovely garden. And my sister sitting within it. ”Why not make them mates?” I mused.”

”I didn’t hear you.” Azriel stepped forward. ”But you heard something else.” Elain seemed about to nod, but only backed away. ”I think I was dreaming,” she murmured. [...] Azriel’s hazel eyes churned as he studied my sister, her too-thin body. And without a word, he winnowed away. Mor watched the space where he’d been standing long after he was gone.”

”The two Illyrians paused their inspection of me long enough to note my sisters finishing up breakfast, Nesta in a pale gray gown that brought out the steel in her eyes, Elain in dusty pink. Both males went a bit still. But Azriel sketched a bow - while Cassian stalked for the dining table.”

It’s important to note that Az & Cassian had the same reaction to seeing Elain & Nesta.

””Can I set you up in the garden? The herbs you planted are coming in nicely.” ”I can help her,” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing his fingers as he extended a hand. Nesta monitored him like a hawk, but he kept silent as Elain took his hand, and out they went.”

”But Azriel asked softly, taking a single step over the threshold and into the sitting room, ”What other?” Elain’s brows twitched toward each other. ”The queen - with the feathers of flame.” The shadowsinger angled his head. Lucien murmured to me, eyes still fixed on Elain, ”Should we - does she need...?” ”She doesn’t need snything,” Azriel answered without so much as looking at Lucien. Elain was staring at the spymaster now - unblinking. ”We’re the ones who need...” Azriel trailed off. ”A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. ”The Cauldron made you a seer.”

”It made sense, I supposed, that Azriel alone had listened to her. The male who heard things others could not... Perhaps he, too, had suffered as Elain had before he understood what gift he possessed.”

”While shadows gathered around Azriel, Elain at his side, wide eyed at the spymaster’s display.”

”Then Azriel, gently taking Elain’s hand in his own, as if afraid his scars would hurt her.”

I think this is a parallel to his pov in ACOSF when he thought his hands weren’t worthy of touching her.

”But Azriel asked softly, ”What about Elain?”

He was the first one to notice that she was missing, not Feyre, not Nesta, but him!

”From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoked debate, ”I’m getting her back.” Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowes golden in the shadows. Nesta said, ”Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare. ”I’m getting her back.”

He was literally risking his life to get her back!

”Azriel slid back the curtain - Elain was in her nighgown. Gagged, wrists wrapped in steel that glowed violet. Her eyes went wide as she saw us - Azriel and me. I shifteb my face back into my own, raising a hand to my lips as Azriel knelt before her. [...] Azriel gently removed the gag from her mouth. ”Are you hurt?” She shook her head, devouring the sight of hom as if not quite believing it. ”You came for me.” The shadowsinger only inclined his head.”

”As Azriel battled to keep them airborn, keep his grip on them, my sister sent a fierce kick into the beast’s face. Its eye. Another. Another. It bellowed, and Elain slammed her bare, muddy foot into its face again. The blow struck home.”

”Azriel still cradling Elain to his chest. He dripped blood behind him the entire time - a trickle compared to the torrent that should be leaking out. Contained only by the patches of power he’d slapped on it. Help - he needed a healer immediately.”

He held on to Elain despite that she was now safe while he was very injured!

”Rhys lunged for Azriel, taking Elain from him and gently setting my sister down. Azriel raped ”swaying on his feet, ”We need Helion to get these chains off her.” Yet Elain didn’t seem to notice them as she rose up on her toes and kissed the shadowsinger’s cheek.”

Again, Az is injured but his first instinct is to get the chains off Elain.

”This is Truth-Teller,” he told her softly. ”I won’t be usung it today - so I want you to.” [...] It has never failed me once,” the shadowsinger said, the midday sun devoured by the dark blade. ”Some people say it is magic and will always strike true.” He gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. ”It will serve you well.” [...] Cassian gawked at Azriel, and I wondered how often Azriel had lent out that blade - Never, Rhys said from where he finished buckling on his own weapons against the side of the wagon. I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife. Elain looked up at Azriel, their eyes meeting, his hand still lingering on the hilt of the blade. I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the only space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection ... that knife.”

Maybe Feyre will give that painting to Az & Elain in the future?

”Send Lucien, then. As our human emissary. I studied the tenseness in Azriel’s shoulders, the shadows veiling half of him from the sunlight. [...] ”I don’t make a point of looking after his movements.” ”Why?” Not a flicker of emotion. ”He is Elain’s mate.” I waited. ”It would be an invasion of her privacy to track him.” To know when and if Lucien sought her out. What they did together. ”You sure about that?” I asked quietly. Azriel’s Siphons guttered, the stones turning as dark and foreboding as the sea.”

Az gets very tense while talking about Lucien. He also doesn’t spy on him out of respect for Elain, I also think it’s because their bond hurts him too much (as mentioned in ACOSF).

”If Lucien kills Graysen, then good riddance.”

He hates Graysen for what he did to Elain

””Are we supposed to get the sisters presents?” ”No,” I said, and meant it. Az seemed to loose a sigh of relief.”

He was nevous about getting Elain a gift, he does however give her one in ACOSF meaning their relationship has grown.

”In time to see Elain say to Azriel, ”Hello.” Az said nothing. No, he just moved toward her. Mor tensed beside me. But Azriel only took Elain’s heavy dish of potatoes from her hands, his voice soft as night as he said, ”Sit. I’ll take care of it.” Elain’s hands remained in midair, as if the ghost of the dish remained between them. With a blink, she lowered them, and noticed her apron. ”I - I’ll be right back, she murmured.”

”There’s no going back to being human, girl,” Amren said, perhaps a tad gently. ”Amren,” I warned. Elain’s face reddened further , her back straightening. But she didn’t bolt. ”I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I’d never heard Elain’s voice so cold. I glanced at the others. Rhys was frowning, Cassian and Mor were both grimacing, and Azriel... It was pity on his beautiful face. Pity and sorrow as he watched my sister. [...] ”Pick on someone your own size,” Cassian said to Amren, shoveling roast chicken into his mouth. ”I’d feel bad for the mice,” Azriel muttered. Mor and Cassian howled, earning a blush from Azriel and a grateful smile from Elain - and no short of scowling from Amren. But something in me eased at that laughter, at the light that returned to Elain’s eyes.”

Azriel protectes Elain & made her feel better.

”I found Elain studying it, beautiful in her amethyst-colored gown. I made to move toward her, but someone beat me to it. The shadowsinger was clad in a black jacket and pants similar to Rhysand’s - the fabric immaculately tailored and built to fit his wings. He still wore his Siphon atop either hand, and shadows trailed his footstept, curling like swirled embers, but there was little sign of the warrior otherwise. Especially as he gently said to my sister, ”Happy solstice.” Elain turned from the snow falling in the darkness beyond and smiled slightly. ”I’ve never participated in one of these.””

”It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.” Silence again. The Azriel tipped back hus head and laughed. I’d never heard such a sound, deep and joyous. Cassian and Rhys jouined him, the former grabbing the glass bottle from Azriel’s hand and examining it. ”Brilliant,” Cassian said. Elain smiled again, ducking her head. Azriel mastered himself enough to say, ”Thank you.” I’d never seen his hazel eyes so bright, the hues of green amid the brown and gray like veins of emerald. ”This will be invaluable.””

”Because of the shit with Elain?” Azriel stilled. ”What happened to Elain?” Cassian waved a hand. ”A fight with Nesta. Don’t bring it up”, he warned when Azriel’s eyes darkened.”

”Maybe you’ll become interesting at last, Elain.” Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike.”

Az’s shadows are ready to defend Elain.

”Azriel stiffened, an outright sign of temper from him as he said quietly, ”There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.”

He is protective over her.

”I always thought she was born on the wrong side of the wall,” Elain admitted. ”She made ballrooms into battlefields and plotted like any general. Like you two,” she said, nodding to Cassian, and then, a bit more shyly, to Azriel. Azriel offered her a small smile that Elain quickly looked away from. Cassian tucked away his puzzlement. Lucien was certainly not here to snarl at any male who looked at her for too long.”

”Elain just linked her arm through Nesta’s and led her toward the family room, where Azriel stood in the doorway, monitoring them. As if he’d heard Elain’s sharp laugh and wondered what had caused it. ”I was just checking on desert,” Elain explained as they approached the doorway and Azriel. Nesta met the shadowsinger’s stare and he gave her a nod. Then his gaze shiften to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. Elain’s breath caught slightly, and she gave him a shallow nod of greeting before brushing past, leading Nesta into the room.”

”Why don’t you sit?” She leaned against the doorway beside the shadowsinger. ”My shadows don’t like the flames so much.” A pretty lie. She’d seen Azriel before the fire plenty. But she looked at who sat close to it and knew the answer. ”Why did you come if it torments you so much?” ”Because Rhys wants me here. It’d hurt him if I didn’t come.” [...] Shadows darkened his eyes, full of enough pain that she couldn’t stop herself from touching his shoulder. Letting him see that she understood why he stood in the doorway, why he wouldn’t go near the fire. His secret to tell, never hers”

From the bonus chapter we know the reason he won’t go into the room is Elain and that her mating bond with Lucien hurts him too much. This really shows how much he loves Elain and how much pain it causes him that he can’t act on his feelings.

I decided not to add anything from the bonus chapter considering most of it is a scene between the two of them.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this, sorry about any potential spelling errors.

[echo-three-one]

Hey, sorry to bother but could you please do Mason with a male reader? Where the reader was a Soviet who helped him escape when he was captured, and after that the reader start working for Adlers team so they can be close to each other? If your not comfortable with a male reader you can do gn ♡˖꒰ᵕ༚ᵕ⑅꒱

HELLO anon! Sorry it took me a while to finish this. If you noticed, I was working out on a multichapter fic. But here is your request.

I hope you liked how I did this. I tried my best to make it a nice read.

Step 8 : Freedom

You happily pant as you finally see the outside walls of the horrible prison compound. Thanks to Reznov, you managed to escape hell in your own way. As havoc began around the prison, you planned to take the road less traveled. Away from the gunfire and chaos, your own personal safe route. It worked.

"It worked!" you screamed from the top of your lungs raising your fists up the sky. From the distance you see a train chugging its way along the tracks.

"Bingo." You smiled and laughed at the luck you're having today. One big leap and you're finally free.

You leapt and quickly held on to the train's ladder climbing up to the top and holding on to dear life. A few meters ahead, you see a truck with a turret making it's way toward the side of the train.

A person jumped over the train and reached his hand toward the car. Much to his dismay, the car quickly rerouted away from the train and the man who escaped yelled.

"REZNOOOOV!!!!"

You frown at the thought of Reznov not making in out. He was one of the key persons why you're here right now. You slowly crawl toward the man who started to mourn at the loss of his friend.

"I'm sorry." you console the sad man as he looked at the spot where he last saw Reznov, followed by the sound of cars and gunfire.

"NO!!!!!" he yelled, you manage to cover his mouth with your hand as to not raise suspicion to the people inside the moving train.

"We can talk about him later if you want, for now we just have to find a way to safety." you hush him as he slowly realize that your words make complete sense. He then grabs your hand and puts it down, turning to the peaceful river beside the train tracks.

"Reznov told me this train stops on a nearby settlement. We could drop there and use the crowds for cover. But I'm pretty sure no one will be after us. Reznov did his best to divert all attention away from me." he mutters, you could barely hear him through the chugging of the train but his lip movement guided you to understand him clearly.

"So, what brings you to Vorkuta?" Alex turns to you, his face still looks sad from the mourning and you think it's appropriate to divert conversation away from the center of stress.

"Oh, you know. The usual." you chuckle, avoiding memories you didn't want to recall.

"What about you? What's your deal?" you ask back. He looks like he was debating whether he'll answer honestly or not, and you accept the fact that he's not going to trust you that easily.

"Same as you, I guess." he replies. You could see the lie from a mile away, as it was impossible that he did the same offense as you, but you still nodded to him in agreement.

"Your accent... It's different." you notice, even his build is different. It makes you wonder from what side of the world he originated and how he truly made it to Vorkuta.

"Yeah." He replies, turning his head toward the horizon, his hair blowing against the wind. You quickly find solace in his company, sharing the same experience of hell for the last few months, you find his presence comforting.

"There's our stop." You tell him, raising your voice enough that he could hear it. He nods in thanks and turns his head back to look at the view.

~

After your signal, you both simultaneously jump to the small mound of soil, it's texture felt familiar for you as you once stepped on this exact ground years ago. You look at him with a smile, showing how excited you are to be finally free.

Alex Mason pats his hand to wipe off the soil on hands, and lookz at you while you're staring at him.

"Hey, Is there mud on my face?" he looks at you, concerned at his appearance. This surprises you and you shake your head, looking down as fast as you could trying to hide your facial reaction. This man is clearly making you feel different things. Things beyond your control.

You take a deep breath and clear your face as you look at him to tell him you know someplace you can stay while you make your next plans.

"I know a place. You could make a few calls there, you know, home." You say as he follows beside you.

"What about you, where will you be?" you turn to him and see his curious face. Trying hard not to smile at how cute it is.

"Me? Wherever the wind brings me." You reply with a smile, slightly rolling your eyes to see if he's looking at you. He just hums, maybe thinking of your open ended answer, or maybe just thinking of what he'll do once he gets home.

~

You plop yourself onto the hard wooden platform you once called a bed, sighing in relief once you felt your muscles relax. Holding on to a metal bar for a few hours was exhausting, especially after you fought for freedom just moments before it.

You take a peek at the suspected American, who you tagged along, who happens to take his shirt off and stare at his visage in the mirror, splashing water on his face at intervals.

You knew it feels wrong, but you can't help but stare at his wonderfully sculpted back, how his broad shoulders tense when he raises his hand to wash his face, and you even catch yourself staring at a single drop of water slowly trickling down to his pants. Holy Shit. You thought to yourself as you quickly turn away and shift your position.

"So... uh.. I'm sorry I still haven't got your name. What's your name?" he says, making you turn to him, trying hard not to stare away from his eyes. You want to look down but you can't, you shouldn't.

"Y/N." You reply, gulping after the answer.

"So, Y/N. I'm Alex Mason. Thanks for the help." he smiles and reaches out his hand. Of course you trail your eyes down at his hand, catching a glimpse of something beautiful in the background.

"Yeah, sure. No problem." you shake his hand, feeling it's roughness, feeling it's warm grip against yours.

"So, where could I make the phone calls you promised?"

"Right by the reception. I'll lead you there." You stutter and quickly lead him to the telephone.

While making your way down, you told him that this establishment once housed you in your earlier years of living. He looks interested in your story as he provides you more questions about yourself, to which you answer truthfully. His communication skills are good enough that it makes you very open to him, leaving no story incomplete.

While he makes his call, you couldn't help but look at him mouth each word, like a spy of sorts but you are just looking at his lips. Yes. You think that you're being way too creepy but there's something about him that's magnetizing your eyes. Like an unstoppable force.

Evening came and you are both back on your room, he tells you that he's actually going back to the States tomorrow as his coworker arranged a flight for him. But what he says next would literally change the course of your life.

"I told him, I brought along a trustworthy ally..." he sits down on his bed, spreading his leg a little and crossing his arms. You remain quiet, you didn't want to get your hopes up, but whoelse would he bring but you? You could feel your heart thump faster.

"..that is if you agree to help us. Are you? You told me you have nowhere to go. I think that's enough of a reason to fight more. I don't know how you got to Vorkuta, but if you're housed there, you must be a brave warrior. Something we needed right now. So, what do you say Y/N?" he stood up and reach his hand out again, you look at him in the eye and felt that he too, was taking a big risk. A risk of letting you in and fight along side him, without knowing who you really are.

You slowly stand up, your eyes trail from his eyes to his reached out hand, as you reach out yours and shake it, feeling that same feeling again from earlier.

"Let's go." you say, smiling as you entrust your future under his guidance. Something you never expect to happen but a choice you made that you'll never regret.

[tintentrinkerin]

Cathartic Arrest

Rating: Mature

Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester

Characters: Michael (Supernatural), Minor Characters

Additional Tags: Post-Hell Dean Winchester, Post-Lucifer’s Cage Sam Winchester, Dubious Consent, Caning, Codependent Winchesters (Supernatural), It’s all about inflicting and receiving punishment, Jealousy

Summary: ”Sam needs to cope with memories of Lucifer’s abuse. Dean is still trying to cope with this time as torture Master in Hell.

And he’s JEALOUS.”

Word Count 1,793

READ HERE OR ON AO3

Sam was still shaking when he got back to the bunker. He had taken his time before he came back home, but still. This time, it had all been different. She had to help him back into his pants, his shirt, even tuck his shirt in, help him ground himself; when he still didn’t come down from what just happened, she made him sit in her “calm room” as she called it. 

She gave him food, good food. Fruits. Pineapple, strawberries, vanilla infused yoghurt. Juices of passion fruit and apples, bread with butter and some lean chicken tenders. He could choose whatever music he wanted, but all he ever would choose was hard rock – the music of his childhood, part of his youth and part of Dean. The music in his ears, usually is of a different, much more intense nature. He’d tried pop. One Direction. Too happy. He’d tried Nu Metal. He was too old to bounce back into his emo stage, also known as his years at Stanford. He had tried all kinds of metal. Trash, Death, Melodic, Symphonic. Nightwish. Later Aesthetic Perfection. All good music, quality wise. But nothing was ever louder than the noises in his head. The crying of baby Sam Winchester, inner-child Sam Winchester. Traumatized and angry and helpless. 

Only the noise of a cane meeting his skin, his ass, his legs, even his feet, his own painful cries, the muffled grunts, the thank you’s and the yes'es, the reenactment of his shame, would silence the child. It’d been rough today. The wax on his chest left pink swollen spots, the cane beat him bloody this time.

“I can stop, aye?” she said. 

“No, Mistress. Don’t. I want it to bleed.”

She’s not his Domme and he’s not her slave. He isn’t that twisted in his mind to reenact the power exchange, his own powerlessness. Michael watching. Michael. That god forsaken coward.

Sam was still shaking when he started Baby’s engine, slowly rolling away from the place he visits when pressing on his scar stops working. And it’s been working less and less and less. Until nothing else will help but being beaten up by someone to finally overcome the pain, the helplessness, the feeling of being weak and useless. Sam Winchester might be broken, but he still can take a beating without crying.

Dean hates liars. Which is kind of, let’s say  hypocritical, given his nature, his past. He lied to Sam about hell, he lied about the deal, he constantly lies to the only person who will probably never leave him. Because even if Sam does leave, he always comes back. He won’t even die for good. Dean doesn’t, Sam doesn’t. They’re here, two moons in this earth’s gravitational pull, doomed to circle each other; the forces of nature keeping them in place but always keeping them apart. 

It's one of those days when Sam says he’s about to go jogging, but since when does he have to drive fifty miles to some secluded forest area to jog when they're in the literal middle of nowhere? Dean has seen Sam in the showers. They have their privacy here, both want that or pretend to, but the showers are group showers, long lines of shower heads like in school gyms. They usually lock the doors, so why, this one time, does Sam not lock himself up like he used to? Dean knows about the nightmares, the triggers, the sudden flashbacks and the pressing of Sam’s thumb against the palm of his cut hand. He noticed cuts, deep cuts around Sam’s wrists, that never heal because he keeps on scratching off the scab. The bleeding never stops. 

Dean decides that today, enough is enough. He knows this trauma, he was in Hell too. He tortured innocent people, he tortured Bela fucking Talbot. A woman he really respected in the end, though he sugar coated it with cunt-y behaviour. He’s seen so many faces twisted in pain and agony – and all they do in the end? – cry for mama. They cry for their fucking mother, and Sam? Dean wonders who he cried for in the Cage?

Sam is packed up in his “jogging outfit” and he’s about to leave, when Dean gets up from his armchair in the library.

“Where ya goin’, Sammy?”

He jumps.

“Jesus, don’t scare me, man. Really? I’m going jogging.”

“There’s a whole ass forest in front of the batcave, Sam. Why not go there?”

Sam looks down and Dean knows, he’s angry. He’s angry because Dean caught him in his damn lie and there’s no good way out of it.

“I have a jogging buddy over there,” Sam clears his throat, his whole body is tense. Ready to run. Wherever.

“Ah, jogging buddy, I see. Lemme guess, their name is Mistress Lana and he looks bomb in tracksuits.”

Sam is about to erupt and he grows, his posture straightens and he yells. “This is private Dean, you have no, absolutely NO right to spy after me like a--”

“Like a what?”

“Like a fucking jealous wife who caught me in an affair?”

Dean falls silent, but his body, pure, condensed power, anger, fear, slams his arm against Sam’s throat and presses him to the wall. 

“It is exactly like that. You drive an hour to see a dominatrix, to what? You become a subby bootlicker all of a sudden? You like that?”

Sam’s nostrils flare and damn, now Dean is on freakin’ thin ice. He is so goddamn jealous of this woman giving Sam something that Dean would give him freely. And happily. He would give him the relief he needs. 

“Don’t talk like that!” Sam hisses, trying to wind himself out of Dean’s grip but he’s still sore from the last time Lana tied him up like a Christmas present and hung him on the wall like a pig-half at the butcher’s. Sam loved the marks of the rough rope, loved the feeling of just hanging there, floating, the ground beneath him so far away, the rock bottom so far…“You have no idea how I feel!”

Dean’s head tilts to the side. “I tortured people in Hell, Sam. I know how to make you feel the worst pain of your life – but I can also give you the greatest relief. I can show you mercy, because that’s what you really want. Isn’t it?”

Sam finally breaks free and attacks Dean, one hit after another, breaks Dean’s nose, gives him a black eye, and it only stops when Dean lands a blow right over Sam’s kidney – he staggers back. 

“I deserve the pain,” Sam wheezes. “I don’t rely on anyone’s mercy.”

Dean drags him up and brings Sam, who is suddenly so pliant, to his room. What no one has ever known about is the secret door. Dean’s not a witch, Sam would be a great one, but Dean managed to hide a tiny little torture chamber behind his room. Sam fights,  he insults Dean. Dean knows, yes he knows, it’s Sam’s way of provoking him and, kind of, making Dean stop. 

Sam knows that, when he came back from Hell, Dean fucked around even more than before he’d died –but no one ever saw him with the girls, the submissive ones, the broken little dolls he found. This is Deam’s coping. Reenacting Hell.

Sam clings on to Dean when he’s tied to the bench, naked. Sam is still black and blue, some of his bruises had turned green-yellowish already but no one should hurt him there again. These bruises would take ages to heal, if they’re lucky, without a doctor needed. Sam isn’t fighting anymore, he’s crying.

“Please Dean, take it off of me. Please… I can’t… Take it OFF!”

“I can’t”, Dean says, gently, brushing away Sam’s tears.“Does she fuck you?”

A gasp. “What? Why--?”

“Simple question, Sammy. Does. She. Fuck you?”

Sam nods, hiding his face in his hair and pressing his forehead against the padding.

“I can’t spank you in this condition. You have to heal. Why would you go to that woman when you’re still so roughed up?”

“Why do you care?”Sam’s voice is so thin. Little, scared Sammy, and there was no one in the Cage to save him from what happened. 

“Sammy.” Is all Dean says.

“My Sammy.”

Dean is not like that. He loves Sammy, and he would do a lot, but he won’t do That.

Dean’s favorite is his cane. Rattan. Unpeeled. Sam endures several hard blows, in a staccato, a rhythm other people would faint from. But Sammy is strong, and he wants to be broken.

HE

WANTS

TO 

BE

BROKEN

And Dean is giving him that. He can think of the girls and boys in Hell while doing it, like he’s not the one inflicting this pain on Sam, but it feels so damn good. Purging. Sam’s cries and whimpers, his yells and finally, finally, when Dean is about to lose control and maul Sam alive – there’s the one Sammy would cry for.

“Dean.”

A gasp. The blows stop. Blood dripping down Sam’s legs. 

“Dean.”

Again.

“Sammy..”

So gentle. So tender. So silent. 

“Dean, I want to go home….” and that is truly when Sam is broken, the last bastion of his mind, his pride, his goddamn pride is stripped from him. He babbles, he cries, snot and tears and gulps, he even chokes on his cries. “I want to be home with Dean, please hold me, Dean, take me home, Dean…”

Dean dissolves. His own trauma resolves for a minute. He knows, it will never fully go away, he will never heal. But.

“Sammy. I’m here, Sammy. Come here. I’ll take you home, my baby brother. I’m here.”

“Dean, I love you”, Sam chokes out. It could be anything. It could be nothing.

“Sammy, I love you more.”

Dean leans onto Sam’s heaving, still tied up body, sweat and blood, tears, the sobs. When Dean releases Sam from the restraints and carries him to a sofa, he huddles up in Dean's lap. Like a newborn. Overwhelmed with the world outside, sobbing and crying for Dean. Dean is here, holding him tight. Offering him water and more blankets.

Lucifer has never been closer, but Dean has blown him away from Sam. He made Sam just forget for a while. It’s so fucked up, but he can live with fucked up. As long as it’s with Sam and Sam never, fucking never, goes to a whore again when he can have everything from Dean.

Dean will do anything for Sam. 

“Dean…”

“I’m here. You’re home.”

»And I will never let you go.«

@laxe-chester67 @deanking @vulgar-library @writethelifeyouwant @itsabookishblog @schaefchenherde @sacrificialtendencies @cloudesworld @all-4-wincest @ohnoitsthebat @rpsocsandcanonohmy @stemroses @nightmarecait @lostmykiliel @alexa-alcantara @wincestismyheart @closetedshippers @dragonardhill @alex-is-a-gay-human

IF YOU WANT TO BE INCLUDED IN MY MAILING LISTS, SHOOT ME A MESSAGE <3

[miaclemeverett]

Hello loving citizens!

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1mqTuaM1fusw0rIsZCzlRfgKr0bCFK_cwYBC6SJ8GL6g/edit?usp=drivesdk

Have a nice night!

Your beloved president,

Card "Card Game Anon" Griffin-Anderson

YOU HAVE A LAST NAME??

Endorsement 1

under the read more holy shit this is a good read. you are quite terrifying

Content warning for: blood, death, torture, alcohol, brief mention of fictional police brutality

"All due respect, I'm not sure this is a good idea, president." The robotic TTS voice behind them was unbelievably grating while sober.

CGA blindly reached behind them until their hand found the cold metal of their flask, then they picked it up, brought it to their mouth, and chugged the contents. (That should help).

As they wiped the slimy residue that their mouth left on the flask off, they took a moment to truly appreciate the GeoguessburSMP's skyline. The lights were all off, the citizens all inside and, presumably, asleep. The curfews had done wonders for stopping civil disobedience! That and the beatings.

The only lights were the waning gibbous moon, sickly yellow from its place in the sky, (or was that just the glass? Damn it, you really had to pay the window cleaners less if this was the quality of the work they were doing,) and the lights from their office.

They cleared their throat and spoke, "And why do you think that, TTS?" (Listen, you were trying to be nice, at least for now.)

"Well, it's just that, no one really knows you, outside of the SMP. I don't think you have the mass-market appeal that being president requires." CGA heard the TV headed... thing shift on its feet. (Oh god, the voice was even more grating when you were drunk. Just fucking great.)

"Ah, bullshit, everyone knows me from that, uh, that cat declawing pamphlet I published a while back! Yeah, everyone likes that one." (Except for the rebellion, but who gives a fuck about what those nobodies think?)

"Well, I'm not sure Checkmate really-"

"Don't fucking speak that name here." CGA whirled around, pointing a slimy, accusatory finger at TTS, venom filling their voice, "That traitorous fucking pussy cat can go blow themself up with their own damn nukes for all I care!"

They forced themself to take a deep breath, calm down, and slicked their hair back with their hands. (Calm down, keep control of your temper. You're looking for an endorsement, not another person to exile.) "I mean, dear TTS, that Checkmate doesn't live here anymore, so their opinion doesn't matter to me."

TTS put their hands up defensively, their TV monitor head being unreadable colorbars, as per usual. (Oh how you wished to get rid of those awful colorbars, but it had to wait.) "Sorry, president." They put their hands back down. "What do you want me to even do to endorse you, exactly?"

CGA sighed, filling their flask messily with the whiskey bottle on their desk and taking a long swig before turning back to their glass wall. "Oh, don't play dumb, TTS. I know about your snarky little radio shows where you make fun of everyone and everything here. I want you to make fun of my opposition and run some lovely programming slots that talk about how great and kind and benevolent I am. Got it?"

TTS was silent, and CGA could almost hear the annoying cogs turning in its stupid clockwork brain. "Card, I'm not about to sacrifice the integrity of my program with state propaganda. It's not happening."

CGA frowned. (Damn, you were hoping this would go the easy way.) "Oh, what a shame. Guards, restrain it, please."

"Wait, what are you- no, stop! Please, wait!" CGA heard TTS struggling, but it was clear that their guards were stronger.

They didn't deign to look at TTS, instead setting their flask on the desk and kneeling behind their desk for a moment. (You couldn't say that you weren't looking forward to this.

You actually looked at TTS as you stood back up, noticed the tangible fear in their body language as they noticed what was in your hands. "No. No, please! I'm sorry! Let me go! I'll do whatever you say! Please!"

You couldn't resist the smile that came over your face at watching their suffering. "Oh, TTS, the time for negotiation is long past. I gave you the chance, but nooo, you had to go on about integrity or whatever the shit." You said, trying to keep your words coherent as you made your way over from behind your desk.

"I-I'll tell you everything I know about the rebellion! I'll do anything! Please don't do this!"

You pause and pretend to consider it. Might as well give the dumb chunk of metal some hope before you crush it beneath your heel. It would be funnier like this.

But, you shake your head eventually. It wasn't going to happen. "Oh, you're too late! I have a spy, dumbass!" You giggle in spite of yourself, your slime almost going goopy as you do so, nearly dropping what you have in your hands, but managing to keep it together. Literally.

"Say hi to the devil down in hell, you useless can of bolts!"

TTS barely had time to get a plea out before the sledgehammer in your hands made its way through its monitor.)

Another one down. Card nodded to the guards, and they took away the body. They knew what to do with it.

After they had left, Card looked down at the glass shards on the floor, kneeling down to look at them better. (And definitely not because you can't stand anymore, nope definitely not at all.) They took one in their hand, grimacing at it as it sank halfway through the slime that their "skin", "organs", and "bones" consisted of.

'TTS sure was one to talk about mass market appeal, being a revolting technological monstrosity like it was,' they thought, as they forced themself to their feet, 'but maybe they had just a bit of a point.'

Who was gonna vote for something as revolting as them? A slimy person with brown hair coated in the stuff and two large, winding ram horns. Yeah, some changes needed to happen, and quickly.

As they stumbled to the trash can, their grip on the shard tightened, in a way it hadn't been able to in a long time. They were too stuck in their own thoughts to notice this, though.

That was, until they felt a sharp pain unlike anything they'd felt in months from their hand, where they were clutching the glass shard.

And, in that moment, Card Griffin-Anderson did something that they hadn't done as far back as far back as they could remember

(They bled.)

[aclosetfan]

This is a really incomplete idea BUT it’s about Brick’s hat(s). And hopefully someone else finds this and enjoys it! More under the cut, it’s a long post :)

I think it’d be funny if boomer and butch get him a shitty novelty hat for birthday/holidays/etc because 1) they don’t know what to get him 2) they’re like 12 with four buck to their names. so they just go from charity shop to charity shop looking for ideas. Brick probably doesn’t ask for much (I don’t think any of them do. poor kid syndrome amiright? I personally never think they’d be well off in childhood).

So anyway butch and boomer are bumming through the charity shops and boomers like:

“Holy shit, Butch!”

“Wut?” Butch looked over pulling the charred and ruined Halloween mask that someone had donated for god knows what reason off his head.

“Dude it’s perfect!” Boomer came running from three aisle over, waving a garment around in the air.

“It’s a hat.” Butch pointed out bluntly, unimpressed, and pointed to the mask atop his head, “I think we should get this.”

“But it’s red!”

“He’s got one of those. Wears it frequently.”

“But not like this!” Boomer boosted, “See.”

Boomer turned the hat around, so Butch could see the bill of it. It was one of those novelty snapbacks, inscribed on the front was the playboy bunny logo.

“Dude.” Butch smiled, giggling with Boomer, albeit a little nervously.

He was familiar with the playboy bunnies work, it wasn’t like he was a virgin or anything (except he secretly was), but he had never actually seen a genuine centerfold spread like some of the older boys at the detention hall had talked about. When he thought of playboy, he thought of the Victoria Secret models he saw plastered to the side of the store at the mall. They made him feel weird and his hands would get all sweaty, so he tried his best not to look too closely.

“Dude we should get him this!” Boomer continued to smile, “It’d be, like, so funny.”

“Yeah.” Butch nodded, as his smile grew. He didn’t 100% get why it was so funny, but the idea of having something with the playboy bunny logo on it seemed cool to him. It made him feel kind of like one of the older boys.

Him and Boomer snickered all the way to the cash register, and when it was their turn to pay, Boomer nudged him ahead, ducking behind him with a giggle. He glared at his brother over his shoulder, but allowed Boomer to twist a nervous hand into the fabric of his oversized sweater (the one his brothers had bought him last year. They bought it 3 sizes too big cause he kept growing out of everything too fast. It was 1 size too big now). Boomer liked latching onto their sleeves when he got nervous.

He didn’t get what the big baby was so nervous about though. They were just buying a stupid hat. The lady cashier watched them with thinly veiled boredom and Butch threw the hat down on the counter.

Raising a penciled on eyebrow, the older women examined the hat, “Playboy, huh? You even know what Playboy is kid?”

The question made the back of his neck burn. He had never heard a lady say playboy before, it was weird. From behind him, Boomer pressed his face into the back of his sweater to muffle another giggle.

“Uh, duh.” He sniffed, “We know, lady.”

“Have you actually seen a playboy before?” The cashier snorted, ringing them up, “Not just the logo?”

“Yes!” Butch huffed, defending himself, “The Internet!”

(It was a semi-lie—they had tried looking it up on the internet, but Fuzzy didn’t have a computer at his cabin, HIM wouldn’t let them use any of his flashy spy monitors, Mojo was lame, and the library had parent controls)

“Surreee.” The lady drawled out and rang them up, “Dollar fifty.”

He didn’t make eye contact with her as he handed over a crumpled dollar bill and took two quarters from the take-a-penny-leave-a-penny. When she gave them back the hat, they ran out of the store like they had committed a bank robbery.

When Brick opened the present two days later, he threw the plastic bag it had come in to the side and frowned.

“A new hat?”

“Yeah,” Boomer nodded, putting down the cheap Polaroid camera Butch and Brick had shoplifted from a secondhand shop downtown (still too expensive to actually buy), and reached for the hat, turning it around in Brick’s hand, “but look!”

Brick’s smile grew, as the logo registered in his head. “Oh, shit,” their brother laughed, “is this playboy?”

“Betcha you won’t wear it.” He goaded his brother on as he tossed the new (used—looked like it was taken from Pokay High’s sports department) rugby ball from hand to hand.

“Betcha I will.” Brick shot back, carefully removing the ratty cap he had had since forever and replacing it with the new one.

“Sorta big.” Their brother murmured, adjusting the strap.

“Your fat head will grow into it!” Butch joked and Brick punched his arm.

“Shut up, dipshit.”

“Do you like it?” Boomer beamed, ignoring the bickering.

Brick looked at their brother with a smile, precious anger dissipating, “Yeah, dude, it’s funny.”

———————————————————

Then it becomes a thing//like Brick really loves his hat collection:

“Truckin’ ain’t easy.” Brick read out loud with a snort, and replaced the hat he was wearing with the new one.

He thought for a moment then shook his head no, “nah. Not today.”

He had so many hats to chose from, it was almost overwhelming. They were all basically offensive on every level and he tried to wear them all as often as possible. The highlight reel included:

Kitty gang

Swag.

Yolo.

Lmao.

Weed jokes. Lotta weed jokes.

Thrasher.

Fish love me. Woman fear me.

Met god. She’s hot.

Blow me for luck.

Beer drinkers get more head.

The carpets do match the drapes

FuCk

Birthday Bitch

Deadass fuck thots on god

Hello I am Mr. Cunt

Master Baiter

Drive fast. Eat ass.

At 17, he had a vibrant hat collection. Anytime his brother’s saw a red hat with a shitty gag, they snagged it for him. Recent political events had bestowed upon his brothers a plethora of new material:

Make racists afraid again.

My other hat’s tin foil

Made you look

The list went on. His fuck cops wasn’t popular with local authorities. And how could he forget his most favorite powderpuff girl cap. That pissed them off to no end.

“Brick!” Butch yelled down the corridor. They were at Mojo’s this week, “Hurry up!”

“Uuhhhhh,” he mumbled to himself, as he stared at his wall, ignoring his brother. He hung them all up to make it easier to chose. His collection covered the wall.

His hand floated left to the one that said FuCk, but the one that said bad hair day caught his eye and his hand twitched to the right, “uuuuuhh, hmmmm.”

He floated toward the ceiling to look at the top of the wall, “welllllll...”

They’d be fighting with the girls today and because he liked making Blossom mad, he figured he needed to chose something more crude.

“Oh my god!” Butch cried outside his bedroom door, “Just fucking pick one!”

“Mmmmm.”

“Brick!” Butch pounded on his door, “I swear to god, I’ll burn them all if you just don’t pick one!”

“HMMmmmmmm!”

“Brick, it’s been thirty minutes!” Boomer whined, joining Butch, “The girls are waiting, we can’t cancel on them again! We’re bad guys, but we aren’t bad guys.”

“Ahhhhh—“ he sucked on his teeth in thought, “five more minutes!”

His brothers groaned in unison from the other side of the door.

“This is your fault, Boomer.” Butch whined.

“How?!” Boomer protested.

“Cause I wanted to get him that mask.”

————————————————————

His hat—his first hat—is lovingly preserved. He can’t risk losing it or damaging it any further. Before they started buying him new hats, most of the boys misadventures (the chaos they did NOT plan) were dedicated to saving Brick’s hat from the clutches of (insert one-shot villain here). It’s his security blanket. He breaks it out on the lazy days in.

He does though often lose his novelty hats. A violent gust of wind will rip one from his hat or a fight will cause it to disintegrate. But because Brick considers being the hat guy a personality trait, I think he’d have a spare one on hand at all times:

“My hat!” He cried, as the tornado-like monster blew through Townsville, ripping his hat from his head, and then disappeared into thin air, “the fucker took my hat!”

“Brick!” Blossom cried over the wind, “calm down! It’s a hat!”

“Yeah my hat!” He argued back. He wasn’t fond of the idea that him and his brothers and the girls now had to cooperate with each other, but desperate times called for desperate measures. “Butch! Boomer! I want my hat!” He hissed and his brothers nodded, understanding immediately what he meant.

“Right!” Butch dropped Buttercup, forgetting whatever fight the two had found themselves in.

“Got it!” Boomer jumped up from where he had been sitting on Bubbles, squashing her to the ground.

“What was that thing!” Brick barked at Blossom and she wiped the blood from her nose.

“I only know as much as you do, considering it literally just happened. Maybe it has to do with air—“

She cut off and looked at him, as he adjusted his emergency back up hat onto his head.

“What!” He hissed when he realized all three of the girls were giving him odd looks.

“Dude,” Buttercup asked from the ground, “do...do you just carry extra hats around?”

“Of course I do!” He spat, disgusted that they’d think so low of him not to, “Extra hat,” he pointed to his head, “emergency beanie,” he pulled one out of his pocket, “and extra hair ties,” him and his brother lifted up theirs wrists. “We live by the aesthetic, we die by the aesthetic, anymore questions?”

“Yeah!” Boomer huffed in his defense, “what’s it fucking matter to you anyway!”

“Don’t you three have bigger issues to worry about then our business?” Butch hissed, kicking at Buttercup.

Buttercup rolled away from the kick, dodging it with a laugh.

“What’s so funny!” Butch demanded and Buttercup shook her head, ignoring Butch and pointing up at her sister.

“Holy crap! He really is your counterpart, huh? You guys are perfect for each other!” She laughed wheezing. 

“Hey!!” Him and Blossom bristled together, “Shut up!”

————————————————————

When he learns that over excessive hat use can lead to hair breakage and premature balding his heart breaks, so he starts buckling them to his belt loops instead when he remembers to give his hair a break.