#when he spins around aiming his pistols at the ground while hes falling down

[samarecharm]

Watching a streamer do some joker matches (vs sora) in smash and i forgot how much i looooooove jokers moveset in this game; hes such a little menace ☺️

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

On Your Six

Warnings: dark elements, stalking, violence.

Another sidequest complete (...or maybe you want more of this one? Let me know your thoughts!)

You have a second shadow. You're not alone. While your pursuer has given themself away, you're in no rush to do the same.

You keep going, slinking from pillar to pillar, balancing your target with whoever seems to have made you one. You keep your back to the wall as you grip your pistol, one ear listening ahead of you, the other behind you. You dip back into a pool of darkness and shuffle your foot to make it sound like you're running, let the noise peter off as you wait

A figure smoothly turns the corner and you stand unseen in the alcove. Shit, you know that goddamn strut. Even when he's trying to be covert, he's a dead giveaway.

What the hell is Hansen doing here? This isn't his kind of job. Unless you're his assignment.

You watch him creep past. He slows as he listens to the silence, stopping completely. You raise the barrel of your gun towards him as you tiptoe out from behind the pillar. He hisses into a cackle, raising his hands.

“Take it easy, toots,” he faces you slowly, “we're not enemies here.”

“Aren't we?” You approach with your hand steadied against your forearm.

“I'm just watching your six. Like a nice guy does.”

“Hansen,” you walk to him until you have the barrel to his back, “what the hell are you doing here? I'm not splitting the fee and I have no problem wasting a bullet in your ass.”

“Oh, I love it when you talk dirty,” he gives a dramatic shiver, unfazed by the gun between his shoulder blades.

“This isn't an open bounty,” you snarl.

“Toots, if you're not gonna use that thing, put it away,” he turns to face you slowly, “at least, that's what I've always been told.”

You shake your head and scoff, lowering the gun halfway. You sneer at him in the darkness and huff, “why are you getting in my way? Again.”

“Again? What– are you talking about San Paolo? I'm flattered you remember–”

“I nearly lost an eye.”

“Really? You're looking good, toots–”

You close your eyes and exhale through your nose, “I don't have time for this.”

You sidestep him and continue down the pillared walkway. You keep along the wall and stop as you sense him following once more. You pull back and holster your gun, just as swiftly slipping free your knife. You spin to bring it just along Hansen’s throat.

“I'll tell you one last time,” you hiss.

“I'm helping–”

“I told you, you're not getting a cent.”

“Trust me, honey, the view is worth it–”

“You are–”

“Deranged. Devoted. A total bottom.”

You bite down another snipe as the stone pillar beside you cracks and powder puffs in the air. Fuck. You dip into the shadows as Hansen shoulders past and raises his gun. Two shots before he crams into the alcove next to you

“Really?” You sneer.

“Tight fit, babe, but always figured it would be,” he chortles as he squints into the darkness. “Think I got th–”

Another shot silences him. You wonder if he's hit but don't really care. You duck down and switch out your blade for your fun. You creep along, listening to the approach of those that pest has drawn in.

You weave in and out of shadows, zeroed in on the echoing footsteps. The first silhouette falls before your silenced shot, the second doesn't notice his comrades collapse until it's too late and he joins him on the stone. The third you don't spend the bullet and use the but of your gun against the back of his skull.

You hear a scuff and raise your gun. Hansen waves and pants as he appears once more.

“Got one,” he puffs proudly, “damn, look at that.” He marvels at the bodies heaped around your feet, “you work fast, baby.. I'm more the type to take it slow.”

“Ugh,” you scowl and turn away.

As you do, you hear Hansen barrel towards you. It's too late for you to get your aim. You dodge as best you can as the rifle levels across from you only to be bowled over from behind.

You hit the ground as a shot fires and Hansen grunts. He fires back and the man lands on the rifle with a rattling gasp.

Hansen hisses and drops to one knee, grasping his side as he wheezes. You sit up, check your gun, and stand. He should've stayed away.

You flinch as suddenly a loud thrum cuts the night air. Fuck. You look above as the helicopter rotor whirls loudly. You harumph and kick a body near your feet.

“Fuck.”

“Don't worry, baby, I can take you on a nice vacation, you don't need the bounty,” he sucks in air and stands, “I got you.”

You look at him and scoff. You sneer and bring your gun up, aiming at his ass as you fire. He yelps and falls back down, grasping his rear. You shake your head and mutter.

“Fucker.”

You spin and walk back the way you came. Dimwit better get the hint. Next time you'll aim higher.

“See ya soon, toots,” he calls after you in a strained grit, “probably in my dreams.”

[kanos]

TOUCH for maxine??

would absolutely die for you ci.

short and absolutely no proofreading we die like men. if it sucks it suck idc no more <3

--------

There was no denying that they were pinned down and escape was farther from their reach than they hoped. Maxine knew that Ghost would go down fighting as hard as he could, but for her- this was too much. Her brain was in overdrive and the noise, the accelerated racing of her heart, the feel of the gun in her hands- it was overstimulating to say the least. If her soul could leave her body, she was sure it happened just now. 

“Sinclair, gun up!” Ghost urged, shooting her a look she couldn’t quite read. 

Maxine takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, mustering up everything in her to push up on the barrier and aim and fire. She counts for every shot she makes as if it grounded her, taking her mind off of how close she was to losing herself. Even if she couldn’t do it for herself, there was no use in putting the Lieutenant in harm's way for her mistakes.

Despite their rocky relationship and the unsureness of his feelings towards her and her own feelings towards him, she had grown attached to the man. After everything and how far they had gotten, she would never forgive herself if something happened to him here and now. 

“Nice shot.” He praises. A steady hand aims without fail and a focused eye through his scope watches as their targets go down. “Movement to the left, watch yourself.” 

It’s hard to respond as she scans the left and she frowns when she sees nothing. However, she keeps her gun up and a tense finger on the trigger as she does another sweep. “L.T, I don’t see anything.” 

Ghost takes down an enemy in the window of the building across from them and he quickly looks towards the left, grunting as he lowers his weapon. “We can’t stay here, we need to move.” 

Maxine nods, but before they can budge, gunshots startle both of them and she’s falling forward, gasping like all the air has been knocked from her. Ghost raises his pistol and takes out the offending shooter in one shot while his other arm pulls her closer to him. He drags her back further and around another barrier while he looks out for other surprise visitors. She grips onto his arm weakly, head spinning at the pain shooting through her back.

“You alright?” Ghost questions quickly, glancing down at her. His gaze moves to her arm and then back to her face. “Maxine, answer me.” The use of her name sounded softer than others who have said it before and her mind lingers on that for a moment. A gloved hand touches her cheek and she flinches, but he doesn’t pull away. Dark eyes stare down at her intensely and she feels heat flush her cheeks, pain melting away and suddenly she understands tunnel vision. She can’t look away.

“It hit my vest. I’m okay.” She manages to get the words out, but her throat feels tight and dry. 

Ghost shakes his head and his hand moves down to her arm, just below her shoulder. “And here. Looks like just a graze, though. Lucky to be alive, Sinclair.” 

A part of her wishes he’d say her name again- she liked how it sounded coming from him- but she doesn’t have time to ponder it when he pulls her to her feet. She grits her teeth, holding onto him like her life depended on him, stumbling to find her footing. No matter how many times she’s been shot, she’ll never get used to the pain, bruising, and internal trauma it causes. 

“Backup is on the way to extract us. Try to avoid getting shot again.” He jokes in a rough manner and she frowns at that. “Soap, do you copy?” 

“Copy, L.T. Almost there.” 

“Good. Need a medic on standby.” 

There’s a delay in the response. “Copy that.”

“I’m the medic.” Maxine mutters, following him out and into the warzone again. “I can take care of this myself.” 

Ghost looks back at her for a moment, eyes trailing her figure. “Don’t argue, Sinclair.” 

“Yes, sir.” She sighs, avoiding his gaze now. 

It wasn’t long before they made it out and met up with Soap, who stood with the rest of the team, anxiously waiting. She can see him visibly relax at the sight of the two of them. It takes three of them to get her to actually let the medic do their job, but she finally calmed down and removed her vest. 

It was awkward with Ghost standing there, watching them as if he needed to make sure she wouldn’t run away. The medic bandaged the cut on her arm and lifted her shirt to reveal what damage had been done to her back. She winces at the tenderness and she knows there’s an ugly bruise darkening below her shoulder blade. Another push has her putting her head against the table, breathing heavily. 

“Might be a cracked rib. Hard to tell.” The medic states, lowering her shirt.

Ghost nods and the medic leaves the two of them alone. She hasn’t lifted her head up just yet and she doesn’t know if she wants to. One look at the Lieutenant and she’s sure he’s going to tell her to stay back. No- she’s almost certain that’s what he will say. 

“Ghost, it’s fine.” She whispers, feeling drained now that the adrenaline has faded. “I’m fine.” 

Maxine raises her head and glances over at him, only vaguely surprised he was still there. He was watching her like a hawk, unmoving and once again, something unreadable in his eyes. “Rest a few days. I don’t want you in the field.”  

Anger surges in her as she stands, although maybe too fast, but she manages to stand her ground. “Sir, you can’t do this.” 

Ghost steps forward until he’s only a few inches away and lowers his voice. “Rest, Maxi.” Oh, she could just float away. “You’re no good to me if you’re injured or dead.” 

“Yes, sir.” Her voice is almost too quiet, but she knows that he heard.

[bupbupsippycup]

The End of Old Fuse | Tales from the Outlands

Gibraltar and Mirage are fighting for their lives as they find themselves in the middle of a Prowler Den. Gibraltar guns down a pursuing Prowler with his Mozambique Shotgun, spins around to help Mirage and sees the Prowler scratch Mirage’s leg as he tries to escape, leaving a large, bleeding gash. Gibraltar tries to shoot the Prowler chasing Mirage, but the shotgun shells do very little at this distance. Mirage activates his army of holographic duplicates, which all run in opposite directions, but the Prowler easily tracks the scent of his blood, locks him in its jaws, and rips him to pieces in mere seconds.

GIBRALTAR: No! Damn it, I’m sorry, brother!

Gibraltar looks, disgusted, at the Prowler feasting on Mirage’s remains, and then becomes truly enraged. Gibraltar roars at the Prowler with such ferocity that for a moment, the Prowler takes off at a run, never having heard another noise quite so terrifying. Gibraltar had closed the distance between them as if there was none. Gibraltar had the Prowler backed up, shaking, against a cave wall. He drew his War Axe and proceeded to hack the Prowler apart with all of his might. Breathing heavily, Gibraltar drops to his knees in a corner of the cave. He looks from the Prowler’s corpse to Mirage’s, and is beset by tears.

He looks up to see Mad Maggie, who has been sitting on a taller ledge, nursing a flask. Gibraltar notices that she is looking down, at Fuse’s torn body.

MAD MAGGIE: I told him this would happen sooner or later. He should’a stayed with me on Salvo. We were goin’ to make somethin’ of ourselves!

As she speaks, her voice begins to crack, and she eventually breaks out into tears of fury and anguish.

MAD MAGGIE: Why the hell’d you do it, Walter?! Ya didn’t have to get yerself killed, ya damned idiot! What am I supposed to do? Who am I supposed to fight for? What reason do I have to keep going? God damn you, Walter! God damn you!

Mad Maggie draws her Wingman Pistol and aims it at Gibraltar,

Gibraltar draws his Mozambique and aims it up at Mad Maggie

GIBRALTAR: I don’t wanna do this Maggie. I didn’t mean to kill Walter; I was just defending myself.

Mad Maggie stares hatefully into Gibraltar’s eyes, wondering if both of their deaths would make any positive impact in the universe.

She slowly lets down her weapon.

MAD MAGGIE: … Oh, God. You’re right. If it wasn’t you, It’d be someone else…

She sighs, looking immensely distressed.

MAD MAGGIE: This fucking blood-sport. We’re not ever going to escape this, are we?

Gibraltar lowers his weapon and sits down on the rock surface.

GIBRALTAR: I’m so sorry, Maggie. I wish I could help you.

The Dropship soars overhead, thousands of feet in the air, its engines droning, causing the ground to tremble as it goes. They both look up at it, suddenly inspired. They take off running after it.

MAD MAGGIE: How many of those M.R.V.N.s do they have guarding the Pilot up there?

GIBRALTAR: only six, but they’re heavily armored. I think it would take more than 5 of us to disable one of them. And we can’t bring weapons into the ship.

MAD MAGGIE: But what if we got everyone on the ship to fight at once? I know it’ll be difficult to convince ‘em to work together, but I bet if we say we’d help ‘em escape, we could break through to the cockpit, and take control of the ship!

GIBRALTAR: But would we be able to take it outside the Arena?

MAD MAGGIE: I don’t know. I’m hopin’ I can access the navigation. We’ll figure it out when we get there.

GIBRALTAR: Alright, but we gotta hurry! It’s starting to lower for the Revival Beacon there!

At the Revival Beacon, Loba is working its screen, while Pathfinder jumps down from the Dropship. As he falls, Mad Maggie quickly installs her Riot Drill into the Beacon, which spews flame out onto the other side, severely burning Loba’s face and left hand. She screams in pain, and falls backward into a deep trench that encircles the Beacon, then attempts to take off her Jump Drive Bracelet, but the fire causes her skin to stick to the metal, and she winces as she runs her fingers over the scorches on her wrist. Mad Maggie jumps down and kicks her over. Loba tosses an Arc Star, which sticks to the trench wall and electrocutes Mad Maggie. She roars as she tries to escape its radius, ignoring the excruciatingly painful energy coursing through her. Loba readies her Longbow DMR, fires at Mad Maggie, and it pierces through her shoulder. when suddenly, Loba is gut-shot by Gibraltar. She looks at her wound, horrified, then falls to the ground, and her soul departs without ever knowing the face of her killer.

Gibraltar runs over to Mad Maggie, who has collapsed on the ground now that the Arc Star has finally worn out.

GIBRALTAR: Oh, Maggie!

Gibraltar takes out some bandages and patches up her Mad Maggie’s shoulder. Then, he prepares a syringe, locates a vein, and injects her with Morphine. Her brows loosen, and her eyes slowly shut.

GIBRALTAR: Hey, come on, Maggie. Gotta stay awake.

Gibraltar tries to lightly shake her back to consciousness, to no avail. He holds his breath, suddenly tense. He’s just heard a noise behind him. He turns to look up at the top of the trench wall, as Pathfinder slowly peers over the edge. Gibraltar carefully climbs up the wall and takes out his War Axe. He vaults up, and plants the Axe firmly in Pathfinder’s metal shoulder-piece, cutting off the circuitry to his left arm. Pathfinder politely replies,

PATHFINDER: You killed my buddy. Now you must die.

Pathfinder fires his Grapple Gun, which lodges itself inside Gibraltar’s leg and pulls him and Pathfinder together at dangerous speed. Gibraltar yells in pain, but just as he is about to be hit by Pathfinder, Gibraltar swings his Axe through the bulk of Pathfinder’s steel torso. Gibraltar rips Pathfinder’s remaining arm off and leaves the rest of him to short-circuit into oblivion. Gibraltar picks up the barely conscious Mad Maggie in one arm and fires the Grappling Launcher on Pathfinder’s severed limb with the other. The Grapple attaches to the inner ceiling of the Dropship, and its mechanism swiftly propels them both upward. Mad Maggie wakes up as they fly towards the Dropship, and panics. She nearly slips free of his arm, but he readjusts his grip. The two of them feel a glimmer of hope now, which will be necessary for what lies ahead.

[jeromesxreader16]

Such a Joker (55)

Part 54 Here!

~o0o~

I stop at the bottom of the staircase with a basket of clothes. "You two need to come down here or you're going to be late. We have a set time, you know!" "WE KNOW!" The twins yell. Four feet hitting the steps quickly. "Can I give this to him?" Juliet opens a card reading a sweet love letter to her father. "That's very sweet, honey. I'm sure he will love it." Jeremy shuffles his feet pushing his glasses up his nose. "Do you have something for him, Jer?" He nods, pulling out a book about his favorite animal. "He loves tigers!" Jeremy's eyes light up. "Really?!" "Yeah! Come on!"

I rush the kids to the car, buckling them into their seats before making way to Arkham Hospital. "Make way! We're back!" Juliet screams as she runs to the door, swiping the entry card. The nurses stare at my family strangely each week. "Juliet, honey. Slow down."

"Daddy!" Juliet yells at the gate, flailing her arms around. "Welcome back, Juliet." A guard by the name of Rick speaks up. "Thanks, Rick! Care to open the gate, good sir?" She bows to him playfully. As the doors slide, Jeremy walks through the patients calmly minding his business while Juliet attempts to make friends.

"Jules, honey, come on." I laugh, grabbing her hand and pulling her to the table. Jeremy sits in front of his dad crossing his hands in front of him. "Hello, dad." He smiles brightly at Jeremiah. "Daddy!" Juliet throws her arms over his neck hugging him.

Rick comes over nodding to us. "His room is ready if you'd like to escort him." I nod, going behind Jerimiah's wheelchair. "Thank you, Rick."

The kids walk behind me as I push Jer to his secluded room on the end of the hall. "Jeremy, love, get the door for me, please."

"Sure." As my boy pushed the door open Juliet jumps on his bed. "Can't we spend the night, mommy?" I scoff, "Jules, you know we can't." She crosses her arms. "Why not?" I bend down to her level. "Don't you have something for him?"

She takes the card out of her pocket and pushes it towards Jeremiah. "I made this for you, daddy." She places it on his leg. He just sits still, looking dead at the wall. "Are you going to read it?" Juliet looks at me. "He won't read it if you're in here, mommy. Can you step outside?" I give her a sad smile. "Honey, he's... daddy can't move." She looks up at me confused. "That's not true. I've seen him!" Jeremy walks over and leans to his father's ear, whispering. Then goes to his mouth, listening almost as if Jeremiah is speaking back.

"Kids! That is enough! Jeremiah is not going to move. He's not going to talk. All we can do is come visit and see him. We do not get a response. Now straighten up or-"

"Oh darling, you've gotten yourself all tightened up haven't you?"

His voice cracking. Dry and horse. I turn around seeing Jeremiah standing out of his chair. "What? See a ghost?" He laughs spinning around. "Daddy!" The kids cheer running to him and jumping In his arms. "Oh, my boy and girl. I've missed you!"

I stood frozen as the kids interacted with him. He looks over at me. Scars and all, he's still my love. "(Y/n), my wife. Come to me." As a river flows one way, so does my heart. I reach for him, walking closer. "You haven't aged a day. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you sooner." I rest my head on his chest letting out a breath. "Jeremiah. It's been so long." He hugs me close. "I know, darling. I know, but now we're together again. As a family." I back away from him slightly. "Why have you done this for so long? How long were you able to-" Jer shovels me in his arms, pressing myself against him, devouring my lips. "Everything is fine now. Unanswered questions are useless. Live with me, now, in the present."

~

The kids and I walk into Arkham with smiles. "Morning, Rick." He tips his hat to us, opening the gate. "A pure saint you are." I internally roll my eyes. "I just want my kids to have their time with their father."

I grab the handles on Jer's chair pushing him forward towards his room. I kiss the side of his head. "Almost there, honey."

The kids open the door letting me in and close it right after we make it through. Jerimiah sits still waiting. I stare at him confused. "Jer?" I question leaning down. "BOO!" He raises his hands scaring me. I jump back holding my heart. The kids laugh running to him.

Hours of laughing and playing with Jeremiah the sky has darkened. I put on my jacket and gather my kids. "Alright. Time to go home, loves. I still need to make dinner. Pops is coming over." Jer frowns and hugs his two wild redheads. Juliet shuffles her feet. "Do we have to, Mommy?" "Honey, of course, we do. This isn't a hotel."

Jer kisses my head. "Not long now. We will all be home." He rushes me out and closed the door leaving me to wonder about his plans.

~

Juliet and Jeremy sit at the table swinging their feet. I open the door with my hip, setting the roast on the table. "Now remember what I told you." "Don't talk about dad." My children say out loud. "That's right!" The doorbell rings and the two kids rush to it.

"You're under arrest!" Jeremy says holding his hands like a gun. "Woah!" Jim throws his hands up. "Don't shoot. Don't shoot!" Jim scoops him up wrestling him on the couch. "We got you now, Pops!" Juliet says beating him with pillows. I smile looking at them. I get a cold chill against my neck making the hairs stand up. I rub my neck and turn around to see nothing.

Must be a draft.

"Alright, kids, Dad, come on and eat."

All four of us around the table acting as a picture-perfect family. All that would soon change.

~

The children in bed asleep when my phone rings over and over and over and over. "What Dad? I'm getting-" "DID YOU KNOW (Y/N)?" I bite my tongue. "Know what? What's going on?" "(Y/ N), Jerimaih has escaped!" My blood runs cold at the mention. I sigh into the phone. "I don't know where he could go, Dad. He would come here if he knew where I was." "It's not you, he wants. It's me." "Do you need me?" He holds his breath. "I can't tell you to leave the kids."

I look over my shoulder at the doors. "I'm going to Bab's to get Barbara Lee." I hang up locking the kids behind both double doors.

~

At Barbra's the lights and music suddenly turns on.

♪Now, I don't hardly... ♪ ♪ But I think I could love her ♪ ♪ Crimson and clover ♪

"Turn around." She speaks to the figure at the bar. "Turn around. I won't ask again."

A chilling voice emerges behind her. "Surprise." She whips around to hit Jerimiah but is pushed into Ecco. "Easy. It's just a surprise party. For you, Barbara Kean, queen of Gotham, business titan. How exciting. But there was another you, I... I seem to recall. Wasn't there? Then again, there was, uh, another me, too. Oh, so hard holding on to what's real. It's... It's enough to drive you mad." He cackles over her. Barbara Lee comes running at Jerimiah, throwing a statue at Ecco.

Jeremiah looks down at her unamused. "Cute. Mine is better." Jer simply shoots Babs in the abdomen. "Mom!" Jerimiah picks Barbara Lee up, "She has your eyes. For now."

Echo whimpers, holding her stomach. "I... think she... nicked me, Daddy. I... oh, boy." Jer stares at his assistant. "Oh, dear me. My sweet Ecco, no longer my echo. There will never be one like you. (y/n) will miss you dearly." She smiles widely, "Really?" Jerimiah aims and shoots her in the chest. She smiles as blood pours down her chin. "But you were deceiving and in love with my wife. I suppose there are other employees available."

"Let me... down." Barbara Lee struggles in his arms. Jerimiah leans down to Bads on the ground, pistol-whipping her.

"Hush, little Barbaras, don't say a word. Now we're going to play a... little game. By now, James Gordon should have made it to your apartment and called his daughter. When he gets here, I want you to deliver a message."

~

I park my car as I see Dad sitting alone. I run-up to the club seeing Bads laying down. "What happened?" She glares at me. "He took her! Your psychotic husband took her!" She reaches for me in anger. "He took her! That lunatic took her! He said you have to come, and if you don't come, he's gonna kill her." "Where?" "The place where he was born again." I rub my face in frustration. "Ace Chemicals." I run down getting in my car and racing there. "Jer!" I call out loudly. "You can't do this shit, Jeremiah!"

"Jeremiah? Is there a Jeremiah here?" I hear him call. I follow the voice to see him all alone. "So what should I call you?" I tilt my head, tears flowing. "Jerimiah." "No, no. That's a boy name." "STOP THIS!" I scream. His facade falls slightly but never cracking.

"I call you the devil." Dad appears behind me with his gun drawn. "Wher is my daughter?" Jer looks at him confused. "The Devil? No, Call me... Jack. Mm, no, no, no, that's not right. J-Joseph. John. Jay. I-I don't know. I just... I feel something new crawling from the primordial ooze that was me. Something... beautiful."

"How long have you been pretending to be brain-dead?" "How long have you been pretending? That's a joke. I know you're not pretending." I look up seeing Barbra Lee hanging over the tanks. "Ah, ah, ah, that's far enough, (y/n)."

"But you still haven't told me. Why? Why keep pretending?" I look at Jer in confusion. Why has he waited all this time?" He smirks, "I was waiting for him to come home. We're bound together, he and I. It's the one thing I knew for certain, the one thing I knew was true. And then he just... abandoned us. Do you know how it feels to have the one, the only thing you love ripped away from you? It feels like this." Jer pulls the rope releasing Barabra Lee. "No!" I scream grabbing hold of the rope, the fibers sliding my hands.

Clangs of metal are thrown at Jer, who dodges them. "Who's there?! What do you want?! Show yourself! Show yourself!" I see a black mass whooshing over us. I gasp in realization. "You." Jeremiah laughs before he's knocked out cold.

~

"Now you give those kids kisses from their Pop." I laugh as I hang onto my father's arm as we walk to dark streets. "You know you could come over. They miss you. You make them laugh, dad." He shrugs and kisses my head. "I'll come over tomorrow night for dinner. Let it be a surprise." I nod and open my car door sighing. "Bye, dad." "Bye (Y/n). I love you. Tell Juliet and Jermey I love them too." "Of course." I finish, getting in my car and closing the door.

The drive home is never my favorite. Time alone is cruel to me. I still hear his laughter. Both of them are so different yet so loveable in their ways.

Juliet holds so much of Jerome in her. Especially her eyes. Full of joy and determination boxed up in two beautiful green orbs. Jeremy loves the books and brain teasers and puzzles like a certain Valeska who holds my heart.

I pull up to my small house upon a hill. The lights to the living room, kitchen, and kids' room are the only lights illuminating the house. The sitter's car was still parked in the driveway where it was hours ago untouched.

I unlock the door stepping into my house. "Jeremy! Juliet! Babes, I'm home!" I hear my daughter's beautiful laughter from down the hall. "Mommy! Come here and look!" She giggles, creating a smile on my face.

Jeremy giggles and yells from the same room, "Juliet made a mess, Mom!"

Maybe they're playing house, maybe even cops and robbers!

My heels click as they edge closer to the door. I grasp the handle smiling. "Did you two have a good time with Abby? I hope you were" I scream as the sight before me wounds my eyes.

Abby, the sweet high school girl who has watched my babies grow up now lays in my daughter's bed with knives and pins stuck in her body.

My baby girl, Juliet, stands next to her, knife in hand, blood on her cheeks, and a wide smile spread across her lips.

I cover my mouth horrified. "Juliet. Honey." she giggles and pulls out a pin of Abby's eye. "We played Doctor, mommy!" She runs to me laughing and holding the weapons.

Jeremy runs in from the bathroom with a blood-soaked rag. "I'll help clean, mommy!"

I fall to my knees letting a few silent tears fall. "Are you okay, mommy?" Jeremy asks with big eyes filled with worry. He walks over, hugging me by his sister's side. "I'm sorry we ruined the floor. I told Julie we needed a sheet first." Jeremy says, kissing my cheek.

Juliet wraps her blood-covered hands around my neck kissing my cheek like her brother. "Did Pop not come too? I miss him." I smile holding my girl as Jeremy goes to clean the floor again. "Pop has a busy day tomorrow morning. He said he'll make it up to you." she nods and laughs again.

Jeremy takes the knife from his sister and holds it up to me smiling. "Do you want to play, mommy?" I see the joy in those eyes as she asks me. I see hope in her eyes.

"Yeah, mommy! Play with us!" Juliet jumps on the bed over Abby's body.

I grab the knife and stare down at it.

"Mommy?"

"Yeah, come on, mommy. Let's play."

I look up and see Jerome sitting at Juliet's vanity playing with a big brush for her play makeup. "Aw come on doll. Look at her. You'll make her so happy."

I turn my head to the right and see Jerimiah flipping through a children's book. "Better than intoxicating their minds with this, darling. Think of how much they'll admire you. Our little ones will look up to you as their hero. A hero they're going to be told is evil in Gotham. Raise them right."

Jerome grabs my hand and helps me grasp the handle of the knife. "For me doll. For Jeremy and Juliet. For you, (y/n). I know you miss it, doll. Go on."

I walk over to the cold dead body and look at my little boy and girl between their fathers.

"Let me show you two something Daddy showed me." Juliet runs over and hops on her bed next to her brother, standing in between Abby's legs. "What mommy?"

"If you slice a clean cut from the corners of her lips... to her cheeks..." I slice the skin feeling my hands become lighter.

"She's smiling!" Juliet giggles and jumps. "Isn't she pretty, Jeremy?" Juliet asks, hugging her brother. He giggles and nods jumping on the bed.

I see my men both smile at me. "Let's go get cleaned up and then we can call pop and tell him goodnight." She nods and skips to her bathroom.

"You're such a bad mom, (y/n)." Jerome purrs smacking my butt as I pass him. Jerimiah rolls his eyes and simply kisses my head. "They'll turn out to be magnificent, darling. Even more than they are now." I shrug smiling at them both.

"What can I say. They're Valeska Twins." 

[i-write-boop-spoops]

A (not so) quiet day in the countryside - Leon x reader

A requested one-shot where Leon decides to bug the reader with, well, a bug. Chaos ensues.

Enjoy!

It’s very rare that Leon returns to Postwick.

So you’re unbelievably flattered that he invited you to come along.

It marks an important milestone in your relationship, meeting the rest of his family beyond Hop, visiting the town he grew up in, staying in his childhood home. It makes you feel like you’re more than just someone he’s dating, like you’re an important, irreplaceable part of his life.

Your trip is nearly over, just a few days left before you return to Wyndon. You both intend to spend the most of it relishing in the quaint, quiet countryside, far away from all that hustle and bustle you’re so familiar with.

Postwick is so different from the city, it’s so peaceful, so calm, it moves at a dawdling pace, like a merry but lazy stream. Some would argue it’s boring, but you wholeheartedly disagree. You have space to breathe here, to relax, and every inhale is full of effervescence and life that the urban streets just can’t offer.

It gives you a glimpse into a more substantial life, it would be the perfect place to raise a family with him.

The warm sunlight dances upon your eyelids as you rest on the lush, verdant grass, its blades tickle the exposed areas of skin that your t-shirt and shorts don’t cover. The taste of sour-sweet lemonade sticks to your lips, the breeze is cooling and bright as it strolls through the air. Wooloo bleat cheerfully in the distance, you can hear some local children giggling as they play a few fields over. It’s mid-afternoon, not long after lunch, you spent the morning helping out in the garden, and now you’re content to loaf there with him until dinnertime.

 “Love,” you hear him say, you crack one eye open and languidly glance at him. His smile is inviting and full of his boyish charm, but there’s mischief in those gorgeous golden eyes. His hands are held in such a way that implies he has something hidden between them, you wonder if t’s a flower or stone. “I have something to show you”

You nod and hum a “Yeah?” as you bring yourself to sit up, torso twisting towards him. He comes to kneel beside you, and he gently opens his hands as if he were opening a ring box. A small ball of shuddering yellow fluff is revealed to you, you lean closer to examine it further.

Four cerulean blue eyes look at you inquisitively.

That’s two too many eyes.

“Lee!” You shriek, your body jerking away from him. “You know I hate bug types!”

 He laughs and shakes his head, leaning in closer with the little Joltik, his finger tenderly stroking its back. “How can you hate this little chap? He’s so adorable!”

“Nope, nope, nope” you repeat as you squirm and shimmy away. He comes nearer, the pokemon still presented to you, an impish grin spread across his face.

“Ah, c’mon love,” he teases with a chuckle. “Don’t you wanna pet his fuzzy little head?”

He shoves the bug into your face, you make brief eye contact with it before shrieking like a Misdreavus. You spring to your feet so fast it feels like you were struck by lightning. He’s laughing madly as he lunges at you, you break into a sprint, shooting across the garden. He begins to chase you, Joltik held securely in one hand, while the other is reached out to grab at you.

His fingers brush against your t-shirt hem, you leap away and spin to run in another direction, he narrowly misses you.  Your footsteps press shapes into the grass as you skip across it, your heart is racing, your skin lacquered in sweat.

“C’mere you minx!” he yells, pouncing at you again, you hop back, and find yourself caged between him, the house, and a fence. Your chest rises and falls rapidly and you close your eyes, ready to accept your fate.

“Leon!!!” His mum calls from the kitchen window. “Play nice!”

Leon pauses and turns to her, huffing like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Mum!” he exclaims, almost like a whine, slightly flustered by the scolding.

“Seriously? Haven’t you grown out of showing bugs to people you fancy?! You’ve been doing that since you were six!”

Now that he’s distracted, your eyes dart around looking for an escape. You probably can’t slip past him, he is far too quick for that. You curse under your breath, wondering if he’ll still make you touch that horrifying bug once he’s done talking with his mum.

Something bright purple catches your gaze, a rubber hose coiled up on the ground like a sleeping ekans. You used it earlier to water some of the plants. A brilliant idea comes to mind, you glance at Leon, who is still grumbling at his mother. It’s actually kind of adorable, witnessing the unbeatable champion taken down a peg by the only person who can, his mum.

You slowly, silently sink into a crouch, praying to Arceus you wouldn’t draw his attention. You take hold of the hose’s nozzle and stand back up. Leon finally notices that you’re doing something as he turns to face you.

“Stay back! I’m armed!” you exclaim amidst heavy breaths, brandishing the hose’s nozzle like a pistol, pointing right at his chest, with your other hand primed to turn the tap on. “Ah, love, there’s no need for that…” he says softly as he steps forward, Joltik still in hand. You’re unsure whether to trust him, he still might try spook you again. “I’m serious!” you insist frantically, aim a little shaky.

“Okay, okay. I’ll put him down” he concedes, somewhat gently, slinking down to one knee. He opens his palm and the yellow fluff-ball jumps from his hands. The little thing scuttles away through the grass and leaps over the fence into the neighbouring wheat field.

Leon looks at you with a charming smile as he gets up, perhaps hoping to use your love for him to his advantage.

You deny him that, he deserves no mercy for the hell he put you through.

With a quick twist, you turn the tap, the hose starts to pulse as it fills with water. He recognizes what you’re up to but it’s too late. He raises his hands to protest, a futile action, he soon comes to realise.

Now it’s your turn to laugh like maniac.

His arms flail as they try shield his face from the high-pressure spray, his red shirt darkens in shade as it is soaked. He yelps from the cold, the volume of his hair lessening under the onslaught of water. A rainbow shimmers in the droplets as they rain down on him, you continue even after he’s drenched.

It appears you were too bold with your strategy, he seems to have become accustomed to the spray. He moves, swifter than you can account for, and snatches the nozzle from your grasp with his superior strength. You instinctively close your eyes and cover your face, bracing yourself for the rush of ice-cold water.

The tap squeaks as it is turned off, the hose falls unceremoniously to the ground. You open your eyes, befuddled, and lower your guard. You meet his giddy golden gaze, and he starts to splutter with laughter.

“Well that went a bit overboard” he says with a chuckle, bringing you close to him. He’s so warm, despite being absolutely soaked, your arms wrap around his waist as he embraces you. You giggle and agree, smiling up at him as your hand gingerly brushes some of the hair away from his face. He kisses you sweetly, it’s in your second nature to reciprocate.

As you pull away, he smiles and laughs. “I guess I deserved that for being such a rascal”

“That you do” you muse, pecking his lips. He kisses your forehead, you subsequently lay your head against his chest as you hug. You’re both quiet for a bit, it is only when you part from his hold that he opens his mouth to speak.

“Hey, it’s that Joltik again!”

You shriek and jump into his arms, he catches you easily as you cling to his neck. You can hear a laugh rumble in his chest, you look back and find nothing even resembling the small yellow thing. “Gotcha!” he exclaims proudly with a grin.

“Lee!” you squeal as you scold him, bumping your fist against his left pectoral. “That’s not funny!”

“Ah, sorry love, your reactions are just so cute. I couldn’t help myself”

Your heart abruptly melts, how can you be mad at him when he’s so sweet and genuine?

“Oh come here you son of a bitch!” you say as you lean in to kiss him. He grins at you, his lips feel so soft as they meet yours.

You’re immediately interrupted by his mum as she pops her head out the kitchen window, her face etched in a scowl.

“Did you just call me a bitch?!”

[ashleyswrittenwords]

Ballad of Bounty Hunters & Outlaws

Wild West LOZ AU

I’m slowing down one of my AUs and apparently moving onto another one already. Will I make a bunch of disjointed oneshots and inevitably put them on ao3? Yeah, probably.

I stole this AU from @kajuelle :)

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

There was a moment where Zelda had thought of herself as smart.

A bright mind that was intelligent enough to memorize his routine from hearing alone. Within a week, she had fine-tuned the man’s schedule down to the minute. She supposed it was odd that he waited a half hour before dawn to relieve himself, even stranger that it sometimes came down to the minute until she heard the sound of scraping boots against wood as he brought himself to a stand outside her inn room’s door. A slight grunt when he stretched and then clicking spurs down the hall.

But she wasn’t about to complain. That morning was the perfect opportunity.

The outhouse was the opposite direction from the stables and her execution was flawless.

Now that confidence was a well running dry very quickly. Zelda’s fervent kicks to her horse’s ribs did little to recover the distance her pursuers were stealing. Panic led her to do things that blue-eyed hick will kill her over; among those reasons was the clear indecision in her steering, causing her fright to bleed over to the horse. That only led to Zelda frantically glancing over her shoulder to see a barrel pointing right at her.

She opened her mouth to scream but it stuck in her throat as her body went airborne.

The ground met her quickly and she rolled several times before coming to a stop. Coming to her knees was an athletic feat, the Earth refused to stay still and by the time she achieved it a short nudge of a boot toppled her back to the dirt.

“Well, ain’t that a cryin’ shame,” a monotone voice talked down to her. She knew who it was from the saloon the night before. Link had directed her away rather quickly under the pretense that they hadn’t been seen, but evidently he was wrong. The eye-patched man didn’t look remotely as forlorn as his words were. “Was sorta hopin’ you’d give us a better chase there, missy.”

That woman with him was suddenly flanking her with a constantly swiveling head as if she has a crick in her neck.

“Come on, Lead. Let’s just-let’s just get it over with real quick like.”

Then Zelda realized she was loading her sawed-off shotgun when it clicked loudly into place.

“He wants her kickin’. That’s the whole reason I came with you because I knew you’d conveniently forget.”

“You shoulda sent Scout, then!” the woman glowered, raising and dropping her hands with an irate speed.

Lead shot her a glare. “Scout woulda fucked it up someway somehow,” he motioned towards Zelda with an empty hand, already walking away to gather the horses. “’sides he should be at the station right now. Load ‘er up and let’s get out of here before we lose daylight.”

Zelda tried kicking the bandit’s hands off her, but her grip on her ankle was like steel.

“Get the fuck off of me!”

“Oh my, little miss princess has got a mouth on her,” she drawled with a lazy grin until it steeply dropped, “She better shut that shit real quick before I lose my patience.”

Zelda shouted obscenities at the woman when her foot alone flipped her over and pressed sharply down on her spine as she untangled some rope. The binds dug brutally into the thin skin of Zelda’s wrists no matter how she thrashed.

Regret bit heavily, especially when the reality of her fall was found in dull aches that were only worsening as the adrenaline ebbed away. Neither of the bounty hunteres were answering her screaming questions until eventually a bandana was forcefully stuffed into her mouth.

She fucked up. Royally.

The woman cackled with something wedged between her teeth.

“Your daddy’s bout to be a sorry sonovabitch.”

The man named Lead busied himself with a lighter, attempts digging himself further into frustration before the clean cut of gunfire sent his hat to his feet. It fluttered to the ground, just at Zelda’s eyelevel.

“Shit,” he hissed, ducking to the dilapidated fence that had stopped Zelda’s horse minutes earlier. “Shit, shit, shit – Turette get down!”

Turette paused mid-tie to pop her head above the horse’s flank. Another shot rang out, promptly spooking it. Once the animal had dashed off, Turette man-handled Zelda into a stand only to push her behind the barrier Lead was at. Green eyes widened as the world turned side-ways once more with the slight glimpse of a galloping horse closing in on them.

Her captors were already positioned with their backs to the rotting wood. The wild look in Turette’s eyes was a stark contrast to Lead’s darkened expression – she seemed almost excited while he bit down on his back molars and twisted around to steady his rifle’s sight. The man barely reeled back from the recoil, flinching quickly when the reaction was splintering wood just above Zelda’s head.

Suddenly, Lead shouted, “Did you tip him off?!”

Turette balked, “Why’re you asking me that? Ask her!”

Both pairs of eyes met Zelda with a ferocity. There was nothing she could say because it was impossible that whoever was on the other end of the gunfight was an ally of hers. Zelda had very few and the ones she trusted had no knowledge of her whereabouts. Perhaps if she hadn’t gone out of her way to abandon the man her father hired to protect her, she wouldn’t be in this position. But he was miles from here and with Zelda’s careful escape there was nothing to go off in finding her.

Zelda aggressively shrugged her shoulders and tried her best to mirror their anger. She didn’t owe them a damn thing.

The distant sounds of a horse weren’t so far off now. Its galloping had slowed to an abrupt stop. Lead and Turette shared a glance as the rider dismounted, noisily making a show of patting his panting horse.

“I knew you two were a cowardly lot, but couldn’t we have done this a little closer to town?”

The lazy arrogance made Zelda jolt. Turette locked eyes with her quickly and the click of a decision was made. If not for the gag, she would have gasped at how roughly the woman brought her to a stand. The cold double barrel of a shotgun pressed painfully underneath Zelda’s chin, forcing her head to tilt back.

Another gun was trained on them only a few feet away, except now Link let his aim droop. A red bandana was tied just above his nose to keep the dust at bay. The eyes just under the brim of his hat narrowed.

“I wouldn’t be so liberal with that gun there if I were you, sharp-shooter,” Turette spat, increasing her grip on Zelda for emphasis. “Unless the missus doesn’t need ‘er neck.”

Slowly, he let the revolver fall to his side and a quick yank to the bandana revealed an easy smile.

“Let’s not be too hasty, now,” he spoke gently. “We’re sensible folk. Seems to me that you’ve got something I want and I’ve got something you want.”

With his rifle at his side, Lead positioned himself beside them.

“Mister Lincoln, you know the only thing I want is your body in a bag.”

Link nodded as if that were gospel truth.

“Yeah, well, ya have to understand why I can’t make follow through with that. I was thinkin’ along the lines of what you don’t want,” he gestured at Zelda, “That’s Bosphoramus’s girl. His only little girl. I highly doubt that your attempts at getting to me is worth that old man’s anger.”

Turette cackled and in a sing song voice cut in, “Oh, Link! You really don’t think we know that? It don’t matter who her daddy is, what matters is the pretty penny on her head.”

A piercing glare from Lead cut her laughter short. Link traded his sights on them, the smile wiped completely.

“Who’s got a contract out for her?”

Neither of them resigned to answer, at least not immediately.

He repeated himself more pointedly, “Lead, who called in a contract for Zelda Bosphoramus?”

“It’s a private contract and I don’t think you’re in the position to be making demands like that, outlaw.”

Lead gripped Zelda’s forearm and ripped her away from Turette.

“Make a move and she gets it,” he demanded, already pushing Zelda towards the remaining horse. She yelped against the gag, almost tripping on air. Lead motioned to Turette. “Disarm him and take his horse. The train leaves in less than an hour.”

Zelda resisted but he was stronger than Turette, basically lifting her from the ground. She let out a muffled scream and desperately writhed against his grip on her. Over his shoulder, she watched as Turette reached for his pistol only for Link to twist the weapon around and thwack it across her crown.

She let out a strangled noise, hands scrambling to console the pain bursting from her bleeding head. Link pushed her aside.

Lead hadn’t turned around by the time Link pressed the gun to his temple. The movements were so swift that she hadn’t seen his forearm wrap around the bounty hunter’s neck to drag him down to Link’s height.

“Come on, you know what to do,” Link murmured.

Anger boiled red in Lead’s face, but he did as was told and dropped his arms. Zelda’s feet met the ground, off kilter and stumbling. Turette was still crying out behind them with her shotgun buried in the dirt.

“Now,” Link sneered, spinning Lead around to talk to both bounty hunters. “I’m gonna give y’all the opportunity to get the fuck out of here on two conditions: take that ‘private contact’ off the board and tell whoever put it up that he answers to me.”

The rifle skidded across the dirt. Turette was manically nodding and stumbled to Lead’s horse with bloody hands. The other simply glowered when Link pushed him away, persuaded only by the barrel trained on him.

“You’re scum.”

“Goes both ways, Guardian.”

They left without much fanfare. Link kept his eyes on them until the distance was to his satisfaction. Zelda had taken a seat staring at the ground, hands to bound tightly when he turned to her. She’d seen him angry before, but nothing was schooled in his expression now. He breathed in loudly and took his hat from his head to rake a hand through his hair.

“What the fuck were you thinking?!”

Every word was emphasized as if it were a question that had been on his mind for hours.

Zelda winced as he cut the rope and unthreaded it from her wrists.

“You’re damn lucky I busted that door down,” he exasperated with a shaking head. “You better thank your lucky stars and Hylia Herself that I even thought to check in on you! I knew it was strange that you were so tired all week. I knew something was up, but I still gave you the benefit of the doubt. You might hate me plenty but those people don’t give a damn about your well-being. Why, I’m surprised you aren’t in a ditch by now.”

He rounded her and crouched to remove to gag, but Zelda had beaten him. She couldn’t pinpoint when her eyes betrayed her. Her vision went watery, but it was too late to hide it. Link had stilled, his mouth open to berate her further yet nothing came out.

“I’m sorry!” she shouted, her voice fragmented. Her brow knitted, both from his provocation and the shock of almost dying. A gun had been to her neck. Zelda had seen the insanity in that woman’s eyes, the excitement to see violence from a loaded gun. She had felt that.

She repeated the apology and curled up into herself. Link was obviously hesitant to do anything. Neither of them could recall a moment where she apologized to him for anything. There was no amount of guilt that could have made her regret her attempts to drive him away. Zelda’s cruelty had simply been a means to an end until now.

Despite her ugly sniffling, he didn’t walk away. Link sat beside her, occasionally placing his hand on her back or brushing strands of escaped hair from her face. Even after she collected what was left of herself, he said very little and deigned only to guide her onto Epona’s saddle. The rest of the ride consisted of collecting her spooked mount and traveling back to the inn.

Much of their silence consisted of an amalgamation of thoughts about how Zelda Bosphoramus might actually need that blue-eyed hick.

[duckpatrolstories]

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄, tetsuro kuroo x reader - ch. 2

— in which an unfortunate bartender in the wrong place at the wrong time gets kidnapped by one of the biggest crime syndicates in the city.

female reader, original on wattpad, cw; swearing, guns, violence, mention of drugs

word count: 1578 — previous next

You turn back around and look towards the origin of the voice. In the back corner of the small, staff parking lot under the lamppost sits two dark coloured cars. Gathered around them, a bunch of poshly dressed men. Their sharp appearance practically screams how well-off they are.

However, despite what appears to be a similarity in economic class, the men stand apart into two little groups as if they don't want to be in proximity with each other.

In the one group, a man of short stature and short, curly blond hair and a taller, more abrasive-looking man with a bleached buzz cut mohawk.

In the other, three more men; one with short raven hair and a bitter scowl, one with silver hair but has a softer, friendlier look on his face than the previous, and then an abnormally tall one with an analysing gaze behind the glasses on his face. The silver-haired man stands a bit more in front of the other two.

Curiosity slowly overtakes you at the sight and you quietly duck behind the dumpster to keep watching. What's going on? Why are these types of people up so late and hanging out in the back parking lot of a bar?

"Yeah, and we'll be taking what's ours?" the short blond asks.

The silver-haired man nods when he looks up from the contents of the small crate sitting on the ground. "Take it, you've earned it," he says.

You aren't surprised it's a drug dealing, seeing as it's the big city and all, but you're kind of surprised that such well-off people are doing something like this. Isn't it usually scrubs and small town gangs that do this? You narrow your eyes and hum quietly, wanting to find out a bit more.

Hesitantly, the short blond walks over and pops the trunk of the car open. He pulls out a metal briefcase, one that looks like it would be carried by an important scientist in a dramatic, sci-fi movie. He slams the trunk close and sets the briefcase on top of it. His mohawk buddy joins him and looks over his shoulder as he flips the latches and opens it up.

Upon seeing the contents inside, or lack of, the two snap their heads up at the others with angry looks on their faces.

"This wasn't the deal!" mohawk dude barks.

"Oh, but I'm afraid it is," the silver-haired man says, a sly and confident grin spreading on his lips. "You see, we can't be having Kuroo's goons running off with something so valuable to us, now can we? If he wants the White Crow so badly, he can come and take it from us in person."

"Bullshit! You just wanna kill him!"

Your eyes widen. Okay, so maybe this is more than your average drug dealing. You bite your lip in thought, debating whether you should head back inside while you can or stay and find out more.

Your curiosity was always one of your strong suits, but also your greatest downfall. You never knew when to stop asking questions.

Ultimately, you decide to hide behind the dumpster just a little while longer. The more information you have, the more you can tell the police when you report this.

"You're a smart kid, aren't you?" the tall man with glasses speaks now, looking down at the two with a scrutinising gaze. "It's a shame Kuroo got to you before we did..."

"Shut the hell up and give us what we want," the short blond snarls.

"I don't think so," the silver-haired man says and nods to the ravenette beside him. You watch as the ravenette goes to grab the crate and load it up into the car.

Your heart leaps up into your throat with fear when the short blond pulls a pistol out, aiming it right at the ravenette's head. In response, the silver-haired man and glasses guy pull out their own, holding both the short man and mohawk dude at gunpoint as well.

You swallow thickly. It's illegal for citizens to possess firearms in Japan, and the sight of them being waved around so freely makes fear and adrenaline bubble in your blood.

You need to call the police before this gets out of hand and there's a shooting. You sit behind the dumpster, completely out of view of the men as you pull your phone out of your pocket.

"I'm feeling generous enough tonight to let you boys live another day," the silver-haired man says. "So why don't you quit complaining, put the guns down, and run back to your cowardly boss?"

You can feel your heart pounding against your ribcage as you fumble to slide your screen to the right and pull up emergency contact. Your hands shake with fear, making it hard to dial the correct numbers.

The silence is loud as the men stare each other down, but your pulse in your ears is louder.

Just before you can tap the call button, your phone begins to buzz in your hands and the screen changes, showing Yuta's contact name. The device practically screams the opening theme song to your favourite anime and your heart clambers down your throat and to the bottom of your gut with dread. You hang up the incoming call as quick as you can, praying to whatever divine being above that the men didn't hear it.

But they did.

They quickly forget about each other and the little dispute they're having, now shifting their focus to making sure there aren't any witnesses. They split off from each other quietly with silent nods, searching for the origin of the sound. Thankfully, your ringtone echoed and made it hard to pinpoint your exact location.

Each one of the men stalks the area, guns ready with the intent to shoot to kill. You hold your hand over your mouth to drown out your frightened breaths, listening to their slow footsteps as they search the area. You clutch your phone tightly, mentally cursing at it for bringing about your demise. There's an extremely low chance you'll be able to get away alive, and even if you do, it won't be without sustaining severe injuries.

Shit, shit, shit, you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to calm yourself down. You can hear the footsteps of one of the men slowly make their way closer to you. You need to do something. You need to get him away from your hiding spot. You need a distraction, one that will give you a chance to run back inside.

You open your eyes and glance around you. Maybe you can throw something?

You spot some glass liquor bottles sitting a foot or two away. Carefully, you reach over and grab one, making as little noise as you can. You then crawl to the side of the dumpster opposite of the man. You test the weight of the bottle, calculating how hard you need to throw to get it a good distance away.

You chuck the bottle and it shatters on the ground across the parking lot.

"Over there!" one of the men exclaims quietly as they all take the bait.

The moment the man once sneaking up on you sounds far away enough, you jump to your feet and bolt towards the back door.

But they hear your frantic footsteps making a getaway.

"Don't shoot!" a man shouts. "The whole district will hear the gunshot!"

"What the hell do you want me to do then? Let her get away!?"

"Just grab her!"

More adrenaline surges through your body when you glance over your shoulder to see the mohawk dude giving chase. You force yourself to move faster and reach the back door, only for it not to open. You hit the door with your shoulder, trying to force it open, but the damn thing won't budge.

"Motherfucker! Why you gotta be busted now?" you shout, but then yelp when you see the mohawk dude finally caught up with you. He grabs at you, but you narrowly dodge. Quickly, you spin on your heel and run towards the alleyway leading to the front of the bar.

"Get back here!" he barks at you, getting a hold of the back of your shirt.

He yanks you back and you feel the collar of your shirt dig harshly into your throat. You choke and he wraps his arms around you with a hand over your mouth. He tries to shush you, but you scream and cry out against his hand as you struggle in his grasp. You bite his hand, but that doesn't do much.

"You little shit!" he growls.

Resorting to drastic measures, you bring your leg up and kick it back as hard as you can. Your heel connects with his knee with a nasty crack. His arms drop from around you as the pain of a broken kneecap cripples him to the ground.

"Get the fuck away from me!" you yell, taking the chance to escape.

But the chance is short-lived. As you get a few steps into the alleyway, you collide with something hard. You fall back at the impact, hitting your head on the cold, hard ground. You wince at the sharp pain as you look up, seeing the dark silhouettes of two men hovering over you.

They flanked you.

[corvus--rex]

The last one was the prequel to this one, which I actually wrote first. It's not even the beginning of the main story, but it was what I came up with first. Oh well. I wanted to do cyberpunk without it being Leakira (which I do love, I just wanted to do something different), and came up with this. I have played the shit out of Shadowrun tabletop, so a lot of it comes from that. And since it's part of the last post, it's still an Omegaverse :)

~*~*~*~

Lance backed away, raising his hands. “Hey, no need for that. I’m not even armed.”

The mercenary pointed with his weapon.

“Over here?” Lance asked, still playing the game. “Ok.” He walked over to the window of the high-rise. “Might want to watch that draft. Wouldn’t want to come down with something.”

His hard-wired comm picked up everything, making the assassin on the ledge outside chuckle. But he knew that it was his cue, and punched through the window feet first, his tech-enhanced boots forcing through the thick glass easily. The black monofilament blade glowed red with heat, cauterizing the sliced wound to the mercenary’s throat and killing him instantly. Lance pulled out a modified holdout pistol, taking out the overpaid mercenary that followed with perfect aim.

“Red! On your nine!” Lance yelled above incoming fire.

A small knife flew, catching the mercenary in the throat. Keith used his falling body as a springboard, launching himself at the next target. Both he and Lance heard the same thing over their comms.

“Comin’ in hot!” Shiro yelled.

Lance and Keith both knew what that meant. That meant that this semi-stealth mission was turning into a Russian stealth mission, and that it was coming in the form of Hunk’s gatling gun. Soon enough, they both heard the whine of a spinning barrel and the screaming of rapid laser fire. Mercenaries were still pouring in and the teammates knew that they would still have to fight their way out. Lance had already retrieved the files and uploaded Pidge’s traceless virus. All they needed to do was get out.

Keith spun in the air, knives flying, carving a path to the exit. As he turned, he caught sight of a mercenary coming up a little too quickly behind Lance. His violet eyes went wide, launching himself off walls, furniture, and bodies.

“BLUE!” he screamed as the mercenary drew a small pistol and fired.

Lance’s gasp caught in his throat, his free hand going to the exit wound in his chest and dropping to the floor. This was wrong. These were just mercenaries. And the Voltron Pack always wore heavily modified body armor. There was no way something so small should have been able to punch through that. In a blind rage, Keith hit the mercenary hard enough to pin him to the floor, drawing the ultraviolet hard-light blade he kept on his back. Pressing his thumb to a bioscanner on the hilt, the small knife expanded in an instant to the straight-edged ninjato, which he plunged through the mercenary’s chest plate. He turned the blade back, jamming it into its sheath.

“Blue’s down! We need evac! NOW!”

The laser bolt from the pistol meant that Lance’s wound was cauterized and he wouldn’t bleed out, but it didn’t keep him from going into shock. Keith barely had the presence of mind to retrieve both Lance’s and the mercenary’s weapons before returning to the marksman.

“Stay with me. Come on, Blue. Team’s coming. I need you to hold on. You’ll make it.” Keith was rambling, and he knew it. But he couldn’t help himself as he watched the light in his Alpha’s blue eyes dim.

The sound of electricity and the smell of ozone whipped past Keith’s senses, a small blur following. Several mercenaries dropped, the blur that was Pidge spinning, her electrified katar flying through the next throng. A powered whine and sharp crack felled a line of mercenaries, Allura quickly moving on to the next group with her whip. Knowing that backup had arrived, Keith focused on keeping Lance awake. The Alpha was only barely conscious, the bolt having blown straight through his lung.

“Come on, baby. Stay with me. Team’s here. We’re getting you out.”

Keith was desperately trying to keep his scent hopeful, but the fear and panic saturating his mate’s was overwhelming. Lance was afraid of dying, and it was looking like a very real possibility. The Alpha’s hand moved, a brief jerking spasm. Keith took it, pulling the tactical glove off and holding it to his face, softly kissing his mate’s palm.

“You’ll be ok. We’re getting out.”

Pidge came up, putting a gentle hand on the Omega assassin. “All clear. We need you to get him to the extraction point. Allura’s got the body of the one that got him.”

Keith hadn’t even noticed it was gone. But he had a new mission objective. Get his mate to safety. He shoved both weapons – Lance’s and the mercenary’s – into Pidge’s hands, and picked his mate up in a bridal carry, racing to the extraction point. Shiro was in the pilot’s seat of their VTOL, a specially built, modular one the Coalition named Atlas. Hunk and Allura were already onboard, Pidge bringing up the rear behind Keith. Allura rushed to help the Omega assassin. The limited medical supplies on the Atlas wouldn’t save Lance in the long run, but it was enough to get him back to base.

The Coalition Rebellion’s base was hidden within a high-rise owned by shell companies belonging to the financial backers of the rebellion. The three biggest supporters were Olkarion BioTech, owned and run by Claudia Ryner, a thin middle-aged woman who could flip between hard-ass CEO and a gentle maternal figure in a split second, Taujeer Chemicals, owned and run by a man only known as Baujal who never showed his face and always used a voice modulator, and The Garrison, manufacturers of weapons, armor, and vehicles, owned and nominally run by Ellen Sanda and more practically run by Cmdr. Iverson. They all wanted the megacorporation that ran the world, Daibazaal Industries, gone as much as everyone else.

The Atlas landed on the grounds of the Rebellion base, known only to the Coalition as the Castle of Lions. Medics were waiting to rush Lance to the medical floors, leaving Keith on the landing pad feeling like his soul had been ripped from his body. The rest of the Voltron Pack surrounded him protectively, and the worry, panic, and fear he’d kept carefully bottled up overwhelmed him and he dropped to the asphalt.

When the assassin woke, he was in a med floor bed. Pidge had set up a work station in the room, the weapon and punctured armor of the mercenary being run through her meticulous scanners. Hunk tinkered with Shiro’s cybernetic arm while Allura paced like a caged tiger. Keith sat up, a wave of dizziness making him lay down again. It got the attention of everyone in the room. Pidge adjusted the bed’s position remotely, allowing Keith to sit up without falling over. They were all at his side immediately.

“Surgery was successful,” Allura told him, “Lance will make a full recovery. He’s still out, and they want him in a completely neutral environment. The only medics allowed in are Betas.”

“I can’t see him?” Keith asked, worry and panic clouding his scent again.

“Not yet,” Shiro said, “He still needs to heal, and you know that pheromones can interrupt that process. Even a bonded mate’s.”

“I could probably get in, check up on him for you,” Pidge offered. There were few cases like Pidge where, even if the corporate-run nanny state hadn’t mandated sterilization for all Betas, she would most likely have done it anyway. The benefit in this case was that she was less likely to upset Lance’s healing.

“Please?” The Omega couldn’t keep the whining cry for his mate out of his voice.

Pidge nodded, placing a small hand on his arm.

“Oh!” Hunk said, darting over to the other side of the room. He came back with a high stack of blankets and pillows. “The medics don’t want you moving around much yet, but we figured you’d feel better with at least a small nest.” He went back, returning with another blanket in a sealed bag. “I went and got this one from your room.”

Keith didn’t need elaboration. He instinctively snatched the bag from Hunk’s hands, holding it close. They were his pack, and fully understood the state he was in. Pidge queued further processes for her scanners and left to check on Lance. Hunk went with her, as he was the only other Beta in the pack and could back her up when they got there. Shiro and Allura were the pack’s other Alphas, and while they wanted to see their packmate safe, they knew they couldn’t be near Lance. They could, however, ensure the safety of their pack’s Omega, and so stayed with him, only assisting with the nest when it was asked for.

Even with limited nesting materials, Keith still was able to build one that made him feel more secure, the soft fluffy blanket from the nest he shared only with his mate adding to the security. The shrill, distressed trill coming from him died down only when he fell asleep, wrapped in his mate’s scent and knowing that his pack’s two other Alphas were nearby.

When Keith woke next, Hunk and Pidge were back. He shot up in his nest, a soft questioning noise rolling up his throat.

“He’s doing better,” Pidge answered. She turned around. “It’s been about six hours since we left to check on him. They said that you can probably see him tomorrow morning, which is in,” she checked the time, “About four hours.”

“You should eat and rest,” Allura suggested softly. “If you’re exhausted and upset when you see him, it could make things worse.”

Keith knew she was right, but it didn’t make it better. He wanted his mate, his Alpha. He’d had to watch when he was shot, when he fell to the floor, had to watch as his beloved Alpha desperately clung to life. He wanted them to curl up in their nest together, safe in each other’s arms. The memories caused another distressed sound, this one harsher, even more shrill than before. The pack snapped to look at him, knowing that if Keith got any more worked up, he could go feral. It was a state more closely associated with Alphas, but it was certainly possible for Omegas. The kind of trauma he’d experienced that day combined with being separated from his mate was making things dangerous for him. Pidge dropped what she was doing, climbing into the nest. She was a packmate and therefore safe, but she was about as far removed from anything like Lance as possible and, therefore, was the safest person to be close to Keith. He curled up, still upset, but allowed her to hold him, reinforcing that he was safe.

It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep again.

He was woken next by Pidge gently shaking him, breakfast in hand. He accepted it, a soft sound escaping, his Omega brain still in control. After breakfast, that Pidge actually joined him in his nest for, she called for a medic, who came in and checked Keith over, clearing him for release. Pidge stuck close to him, going along to the next floor where Lance was still under medics’ care. But he was awake, and Keith darted inside, Pidge staying by the door.

The Omega curled up on his mate’s bed, softly nuzzling him. Lance ran his fingers through his mate’s hair, a large medical patch monitoring his biorhythms across the back of his hand. After a few minutes when Keith still hadn’t said anything he looked to Pidge, concern and confusion written across his face.

“He nearly went feral last night. Hasn’t spoken a word since then,” she explained.

The medics tried to make Keith leave when they were alerted to Lance’s shifts in his system caused by the sudden fear for his mate, but the Alpha insisted on his Omega staying. Pidge left, knowing Alpha-Omega mate-pairs in general and her packmates in particular. She knew how important their connection was and that if they were separated both would most likely turn feral, attacking anyone who got too close that wasn’t their mate. Shiro and Allura stood guard over the room from the outside, preventing anyone from entering they didn’t approve. One nurse claimed that she was just there to check up on Lance, but her scent told them she was lying and that she was most likely there to try and separate the pair again. Shiro’s tall, broad frame firmly kept her out. Pidge and Hunk had brought the nesting materials from both Keith’s hospital room and their own apartment in the Castle. Lance’s biorhythm readings were calmer than the medics had seen, and they stopped bothering him and his mate.

It wasn’t until the end of the day when Keith finally spoke for the first time. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“For a while, so did I,” Lance admitted, “But you got me out in time. You saved me, mi amor. We’re ok.”

Curled up in their temporary nest, wrapped in his Alpha’s arms, long, elegant fingers carding through his hair, Keith was able to sleep peacefully for the first time since the start of the mission.

~*~*~*~

Links to the rest of the series:

1 | 2 | 3* | 4 | 5* | 6* | 7 | 8 | 9* | 10 | 11 | 12* | 13 | 14 | 15* | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19* | 20* | 21* | 22*

[hellotvshowtrash]

Dead Girl | B.B

Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: graphic violence including fist fighting, guns and knives, death, hella sad tbh

Word count: 2.1k

a/n: welcome to a semi part 2 of the fic no one asked for! While this is technically part two to My Girl, this can be read separately. There’s like... one reference to the first one and it’s fine. This fic is based on the song Dead Girl by Baby Snooks! Anyway, like/reblog/leave feedback if you enjoyed!!! Moodboard made my me!

Since you were kids, you, Steve and Bucky were inseparable. You didn't really have the choice with Steve, but, you enjoyed Bucky's presence. Steve watched as your feelings for Bucky progressed, from your first crush, to your first love, to your first kiss. Steve couldn't complain, he loved the idea of his best friend being his brother in law. Until the war broke out, you had talked heavily of marriage with Bucky. He kissed you goodbye the night before he left and you don't know if your heart had ever been more broken.

Maybe Bucky is the reason you followed Steve into the army, or maybe it was because you couldn't bear to let your twin go by himself. Project Rebirth wanted twins for the Super Soldier Serum, and they wanted to see how it affected women. You were the perfect guinea pigs.

After rescuing Bucky to subsequently lose him again when he fell from the train, all you had was Steve. You hadn't felt this sorrow since the death of your parents. Steve clutched onto you as you sobbed, his own tears falling onto the top of your head. "Til' the end of the line," rang in the back of your minds, and you vowed to always be by each other's side.

And that's how they found you, frozen and cold in the dark depths. By each other's side. 70 years is a long time to be frozen, but for you, no one else mattered but Steve. He was all you had left and, as you progressed into this new and advanced world, he was the only person you could truly count on. Even the Avengers, as they called themselves, were a rough group to melt into, to get along with. You tended to your own missions assigned by SHIELD. When it became clear the SHIELD was taken over by HYDRA, you and your twin brother were now fugitives.

You killed me on the inside

You pretty parasite

Ate me alive

From the inside

Everything came to a head that day when you and Steve were running from HYDRA. Natasha had stuck with you to clear out citizens, while Steve had tried to distract the notorious Winter Soldier by misdirecting him. Steve’s efforts proved fruitless. The assassin’s sights seemed to be set on you.

After rolling away and sprinting down the street, you and Nat were trying to clear the avenue of civilians. Bullets flew past you as the Winter Soldier marched in your direction, shooting after you. The two of you met up behind a car and crouched, devising a plan.

"You get as many civilians out of here as you can, I'll hold him off. He won't stop, so keep running," you instructed her. She tried to protest, but you stopped her before she could, "just do it."

You stood as Nat ran. You looked in the direction of the assassin heading toward you, his prey.

Crawling thru my veins

Preying on my pain

You began your stride toward him, running headfirst into battle just like you always did. This ghost of an assassin was relentless, and he seemed to only be after you. It was your duty to protect these people and give the Winter Soldier the fight he wanted. You pulled your handgun from its holster and fired off three shots aimed for the man's chest. You were confident in your aim, but he kept coming, seemingly unaffected by bullets, and for a moment, you second guessed your shots.

He lifted the automatic rifle in your direction and fired off a volley of shots at you. You rolled out of the way, crouching behind a car again. You breathed heavily, squeezing your eyes shut in concentration.

When the firing stopped, you stood again and ran full sprint toward him, lifting your own pistol to fire a shot in his direction again. You fired the shot as a distraction before reaching him and jumping up and spinning, wrapping your legs around his torso and neck in an effort to pin him down. You used your momentum to flip him onto the asphalt, landing crouched on your feet next to his head as his gun skidded across the rough ground. You moved quickly, straddling his chest and pinning his arms beneath your knees. You managed to land two blows to his face before his non-metal arm snaked its way up your waist and made you freeze. The action was so familiar, so ingrained. But there was no possible- you were shoved to the ground before your thoughts could come together in a coherent string of consciousness. The soldier had thrown you off of him as he stood and reached for his weapon. You scrambled to kick it away.

You let out a yell as the assassin stomped your leg under his boot. You snarled and pulled a dagger from its sheath on your waist, slashing at his leg from the ground. He stepped back to dodge your attack, giving you the opportunity to stand up and face your attacker. The Winter Soldier was more than a worthy opponent and you were starting to worry about your chances.

I was weak on the inside

Drowning in my pain

In the scuffle, the soldier's eyepiece flew off, exposing bright blue eyes encircled in black. Oceans you could swim in forever. No, that wasn’t right. He pulled a handgun loose from its holster, aiming squarely for your chest. You stepped to the left and ran behind another car, the shots following closely behind you as glass shattered around you. Your head pounded as you pressed your back to the cool metal of the car. The car jolted behind you as the Winter Soldier jumped on top of it, looking down at you before raising his weapon again to shoot. You twirled and kicked the handgun free from his hand before he could fire. He jumped down and in front of you, swinging a fist in your direction. You raised your arm to cover your face, effectively blocking his blow with your forearms. You pushed at him, giving you some space to dodge and attack. You shook your head and ran forward again, fists balled and dagger in hand as you jumped and raised the dagger, swiping downward to slash across his chest. He reached up and grabbed your wrist, stopping your attack and throwing you into the side of the car behind you. You groaned as you landed on the hard ground, holding your side. You heard his footsteps marching toward you and hoisted yourself up, sending a roundhouse kick to his jaw. He was unable to block your speed this time and he stumbled backward, the force of your kick knocking his face mask off. He stood away from you now, dirty brown hair falling into his face as he caught his breath. He turned to face you and you felt your heart stop.

There, standing three yards in front of you, was the love of your life. Apparently, not dead. Apparently, very much alive. Apparently, very intent on killing you.

“Bucky?” Your voice cracked as you whispered, too much distance between the two of you for him to hear.

Bucky glared at you as he breathed heavily before turning his body in your direction and sprinting at you ferociously. Your eyes widened and you darted out of the way as he raised his fist mid-sprint and plunged it downward, right into the hard asphalt ground where you were just standing.

Without thinking, you called out. “Bucky, it’s me.” A sob escaped your lips as you looked at him.

Ima dead girl,

Ima, ima dead girl

Ima dead girl

“Who the hell is Bucky?” His voice was smooth, just as you had remembered it. It reminded you of the bourbon he kept on the top shelf, the one that created a warm pit in the bottom of your stomach when you drank it with him. A harsh blow landed on your abdomen, sending you flying as you were lost in your thoughts. You landed against the car door, the back of your head snapping through the window. You felt the glass cut your scalp and blood drip down your neck and shoulders. You cried out in pain as you fell forward onto your hands and knees, your breathing labored and heavy. You swallowed harshly as you looked up at him marching toward you.

“Bucky,” your voice pleaded, “Buck, you know who I am, don’t do this,” you cried, still on your knees as if praying to a higher power that wasn’t listening. He reached you and hiis metal hand snatched a fistful of your hair and lifted you up to stand, his eyes not looking away from yours. For a moment, you thought you saw recognition in them, until his other fist landed itself on your stomach sending waves of pain rippling through your body. You realized there was no look in his eyes, only determination to complete his mission. Your breath left your lungs and your vision blurred as you doubled over and he let you fall to the ground. He tilted his head as he looked down at you, almost curiously. You had stopped fighting back and he wasn’t sure why, but it only made his job easier. You scrambled back and away from him, pulling a second dagger out of the holster on your thigh. He raised his eyebrows, almost amused at your futile attempt to defend yourself, until he felt the knife plunge its way into his thigh. You stood a yard away from the man when you threw it. You watched him pull out the dagger and throw it to the side as if it was nothing.

Ima,

Ima,

Ima,

Fuck it

"Fuck it," you thought bitterly as tears and blood streamed down your face. He was too strong. You knew he'd beat you, eventually. He came at you hard and intense, his fists throwing blows nonstop as you dodged and blocked him.

"Bucky!" You shouted, trying to get his attention. You pushed him away and backed up, putting some space between the two of you. Your mind was racing, but you only saw one way out of this. You began to lower your arms, slowly, no longer trying to fight back, only to defend. You looked him in the eyes as he advanced on you. Nothing in them gave the idea that he knew who you were, knew what you once meant to each other. That he once loved you more than anything. He'd never dream of harming you like he had today, and that's how you knew this was hopeless. You felt a trickle of blood run down your neck and onto your clavicle, the same place that Bucky’s lips once grazed and kissed.

How's it feel to see me out here choking, choking?

"Bucky, please, remember." You pleaded, holding your palms out to him. He marched forward, continuing his hunt. You squeezed your eyes shut as he reached you, his metal arm seizing your throat and lifting you off the ground. Your oxygen was cut off immediately as the machine beneath squeezed. He threw you down, making you slide across the rough pavement. You groaned and rolled, coughing and gasping. Before you could stand, he was over you, his feet on either side of your abdomen. He got to his knees and placed his metal fingers around your throat again, choking you.

"Bucky," a tear rolled down your cheek. There was no escaping this. "I forgive you, Bucky." You coughed and tried to continue without air, "I know you'll blame yourself when-," you tried to gasp for more air as your face started to feel hot, "when this all comes back to you, but don't," the tears were unstoppable now as his grip tightened. You clawed desperately at his arm, trying to pry it away.

"Stop talking," he growled. You squeezed your eyes shut and opened them again, your vision starting to pop and blur.

"I forgive you, Bucky," you choked out. You tried to gasp one more time but to no avail. There was no air left, and you couldn't take it anymore. Your hand fell limply from his and your eyes slowly closed, one last exhale leaving your lips. He held his hand there for a few more seconds, ensuring his mission was complete before standing up and marching away, leaving your body on the cement. He had one more mission to complete.

Stripped me of my soul and left me broken, broken

Steve had to be the one to tell Bucky what he did. Years later, when Bucky was finally in his right mind. Steve had to be the one to tell Bucky where the love of his life was, who, beyond all odds, survived the same 70 years that they did, only to be killed by the one person she truly loved. Steve had to be the one to cry to his best friend who murdered you, his twin. Steve, once again, lost one of the only people in the world who meant something to him.

—

Always Taglist: @elijahs-wife @dumble-daddy @soul-revoir @akshi8278 @nikmikaelsonswife @njeancastro316 lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist

[susiequaz12]

Carrot Top 25- Panic

And here we have the next installment of Carrot Top’s story. Enjoy a nice filler, full of some fluff/comfort. And a little bit of angst, of course. Masterlist is here. Previous chapter here. 

CW: Panic/anxiety attack, reference/description to injuries.

-   -   -

Mickie didn’t know how long it had been when she heard softer footsteps approach and pause in the doorway. 

She glanced up to see Ali, leaning heavily against the door frame, and Mickie wiped her eyes with her sleeve. Ali’s face was pale and her eyes squinted in the bright bathroom lights. She came and sat next to Mickie on the floor.

“Hey- are you-”

Instantly Mickie broke down again into uncontrollable sobs. She sat there, frozen, until Ali pulled her close, wrapping her arms around the girl. 

“I- I, he-”

“Shh- Mickie, shh. It’s okay- Tusik’s got him. We’ve got him, he’s home okay?”

“I know, I- I just-”

“You wished you could have done something more, I know. We all do. We all wished we could have gotten to him sooner, or that this never would’ve happened in the first place.”

“He just- I should’ve- he-” Mickie could barely make out a few words at a time before her voice was cut off by sobs once again.

“Don’t think of that now, okay? Just- here-” She shifted so the girl was laying more comfortably against her, head in her neck, arms around her back. “Just- just cry. Okay? It’s okay, I got you. Just let it all out, and then we’ll take the next step from here.”

Tears had been streaming down Mickie’s face for a while, but now, she didn’t try to hold anything back. She let the full amounts of grief, pain, worry, and fear completely overtake her. Ali cradled her head as she wailed, choking on the tears and cries as her body shook and shivered.

Ali understood how she felt. She’d be sobbing too, but she was too exhausted for tears.

It didn’t seem like Mickie would ever stop crying. At first it was just the tears, and cries, but then her breathing began to get shorter, and faster. She was choking on her breaths and she began to tremble and shake in Ali’s arms.    

It was like she was shivering, but sweat was pouring down her forehead. She began to grasp at things uselessly, the back of Ali’s sweatshirt, the edge of the tub, her hair. She sat up quickly, pulling herself away from Ali and scrambling backwards as she dug her hands in her hair. Her eyes stared out blankly in confusion, red with tears and her face twisted into sobs. 

She shook her head as her chest hitched, unable to catch a full breath.

“I- I- it- I, it- it hurts, I-” She stammered as Ali came closer to her again. “I- I can’t breathe-” 

She tried to stand up but her legs wouldn’t listen and she collapsed underneath herself. It was like she was trapped inside of her mind. She gripped tightly onto her clothes, trying to grasp onto something that felt real, when the whole world was spinning around her. Her head pounded, her chest throbbed, and all her muscles felt too weak to do anything she told them too. She felt like she was being stabbed, or shocked, or- or something. 

It hurt. 

Was she dying?

She looked up tearfully into Ali’s eyes as she struggled for breath, and uttered a single world.

“H-help-”

Ali placed her hands over Mickie’s where they sat tangled in her hair. She placed her forehead against the girl’s, breathed deep, and entered her mind.

- 

Mickie was spiraling. Ali could see all of her thoughts, as if she had entered a giant, empty arena, with Mickie standing in the middle. On one side of her was Splice, standing with a knife in his hand, aimed towards the other figure on her other side- Andrew. 

As Ali watched closer, the object in Splice’s hand kept shifting. One moment it was a knife, and then it transitioned to a pistol, a whip, a cane, a length of rope. As she watched his weapons changed, Andrew’s injuries changed as well. He was shot, collapsed on the ground. He was beaten, tied up, choked. The further it went on, the worse things Splice did to Andrew. 

As she watched, Ali did her best to keep her breathing even and her focus steady. If she lost control, she would be shot out of Mickie’s mind, and it would be harder to reenter. But as she witnessed terrible things that Mickie was imagining, it became harder to stay focused.

She had to change it.

Ali approached Mickie where she stood in the center, eyes wide open with tears, watching everything that she imagined happening to her brother. She placed her hands on the girl’s head and began searching her mind for memories. 

She started at the beginning. 

Mickie’s earliest memory was at her third birthday party. Andrew was seven, and amused by the fact that she couldn’t blow out her candles, so he had done it for her. She got upset, threw cake at him, and chaos ensued. 

Ali tugged at this memory, and soon in the back of Mickie’s mind, the two small figures of children appeared, sitting on the ground with a cake in between them. Faint echoes of laughter and screaming could be heard behind the girl’s sobs. It was working.

Ali rifled through more memories, finding it hard to ignore the one’s of her dad leaving, her mom struggling through abusive boyfriends, the loneliness and lack of money, and instead focused on how despite it all, she had clung to her older brother. Her best friend, and most times, her only friend, until seven years after that third birthday party.

-

Mickie and Andrew were sitting in a hospital waiting room. He sat, failing to do his homework while Mickie played with some toys. They had been there since school got out, and hadn’t had dinner yet. Micike was hungry. Andrew was nervous. 

After a few more painful hours, a nurse finally told them they were allowed to go see their mother. Mickie walked in nervously behind her brother, but was soon left in the doorway as he rushed over to the bed where she lay, a small bundle, lying tightly in her arms.

“She’s- she’s kinda wrinkly-” Andrew stated. Their mom let out a tired chuckle.

“Mickie- come meet your sister.”

The girl bounced on over to the bed and peeked at the baby. She knew she was going to have a sister, but other than that, she didn’t know what to expect. She guess she assumed it would’ve had her and her brother’s same fiery hair like their dad, same pale skin and freckles like their mom. 

The baby had a full head of hair- it was curly like theirs, but dark. A little darker than their mother’s natural brown. And maybe it was just cause the baby was brand new, but her skin was a tad darker too. Mickie was a little confused, but it didn’t matter much. She had a sister.

“What’s- what’s her name?” She quietly asked.

“Erika.” Her mom said.

 “And we- we get to take her home?”

“She’s healthy?” Andrew asked.

“She’s a little small, but she’s strong.” Mickie twisted her hands in her shirt, and peered over the bed.

“Mickie? Would you like to hold your sister?”

-

Ali smiled as the memory ended, and the figures in the distance grew, a smaller child appearing between the two of them. The laughter and voices grew louder, and Splice’s figure was starting to fade.

She fast forwarded to a more recent memory. Just a few years prior, Mickie’s first day of high school, and Andrew’s first day of their senior year.

-

Their mom had left for work several hours before they had to leave for school. Andrew was tired, but he had gotten up anyways and started getting Erika ready. She was sitting in the empty bathtub, eating toast and jam while Andrew tried to tame his hair. 

Mickie stood in the doorway, and tried to run tangled fingers through the mess on her head. Without saying anything Andrew sighed, and motioned for her to sit on the floor. He sat on the toilet, with her on the ground in front of him and took a thick comb to try and figure out all the tangles. 

Ericka’s hair was easy. It was smooth, and shiny, and even though she was only four, she knew how to brush it herself and leave it down for the whole day. Mickie was fourteen, and her hair was constantly a mess. 

“I should just cut it all off.” She said.

“Shave your head- do it.”

“I’m not gonna shave my head. Just like, cut it shorter or something.”

“My hair is short, and it is still a tangled mess. At least when it’s long you can put it up or do something with it.”

“That’s fair- ow, careful!” Mickie winced as he pulled at a tough strand of hair.

“Sorry- you had a knot. Do you want me to braid it?”

“Yeah, it’ll keep it out of the way.”

Andrew carefully used the comb to pull her hair back, and within a couple of minutes he’d gathered it all into a neat braid, running into the middle of her back. She ran her hand along it when he was done, and then stood up to look in the mirror. 

She sighed as her shoulders fell. 

“What is it?” He asked.

“I- I look like a moose.”

“Yeah-” 

“Hey, what-”

“-but a cute moose. Make all the boy moose go WHAAAH.”

She slapped him on the arm and chuckled. 

“Moose!” Erika stated. She started mooing from inside the tub and the three of them laughed. Andrew picked her up and washed off her hands from the toast she was eating. 

“Come on, let’s finish getting ready.”  

-

Ali watched the three figures slowly become larger, coming closer to the middle. Splice had completely faded away now. And the sobs from Mickie had grown quieter. Andrew lay on the ground, collapsed. He looked the same, if not worse than when they found him.

As the figures of herself and her brother from her memories came closer, they helped to pull Andrew to his feet. Slowly, his injuries faded away as Mickie pulled him into a hug and held onto him tight.

The four figures melted into two, Mickie’s sobbing finally stopped, and Ali’s vision went black.

-

As she came to, Ali placed a hand on the edge of the tub to keep herself from falling over as she left Mickie’s mind. She could feel a slight pounding behind her eyes, and took a couple of seconds to catch her breath before standing up and grabbing a glass of water.

Mickie had her eyes closed, sitting back against the tub, and took in deep breaths. She finally felt like she could get enough air into her lungs. It had seemed like she was underwater. Drowning without enough air, and not knowing which way was up or down.

She sniffled and wiped some last tears from her eyes.

“Thank you, I- I don’t know what happened, I, I lost all control, and it-”

“It was a panic attack.” Ali said casually. She plopped on the ground and handed Mickie the cup. “Drink up- you don’t want to get dehydrated.”

“I- I couldn’t stop thinking about, about all the things that could’ve happened. Everything he could’ve done to him- and if we hadn’t gotten there, or gotten out, or-”

“But we did. We got him out. Tusik has him, and he’s being taken care of. I know it’s hard not to think of all of those things, but you have to realize there’s nothing you can do about what happened. It happened. All you can now do is focus on his recovery, and help how you can.”

“You’re right. Thank you.”

“Of course.”

“How did you- I mean, how can I- can I keep myself from, from that happening again. The- the panic attack?”

“Most of the time you can’t keep it from happening.” Ali stated. Mickie’s eyes got wide from behind the cup as she drank. “I know, it sucks. I deal with them all the time, but you get used to it. They’ll get easier.”

“So how do I deal with it?”

“Well, there’s numerous ways. Grounding techniques, exercises to keep you from spiraling. When I was there, in your mind, I saw what you were feeling. I tried to pull from your past memories to block out the negative thoughts, and it seemed to work. I’ve done something similar before, but never exactly like that. I guess, when it’s just you, try and block it out before the thoughts come? Think of those good memories, the good experiences to push out the bad and reassure yourself. I’m- I’m not sure. Everyone else’s mind is so different from mine, so you gotta figure out what works for you.”

“I guess I can try that. I’ll just have to figure it out.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes until Ali had regained some strength, and Mickie had finished her water. Mickie set the cup down on the counter and stood by the door.

“Ali?”

The girl lifted her head.

“Do you- do you think you could do that with Andrew? Like, go into his mind? He’s just- he seems so scared, and confused, and I think it’ll help.”

“You’re right Mickie. It’ll also help Tusik to know what happened, and how he can take care of him.”

Mickie perked up and helped Ali off of the floor. “So you’ll do it? You think it will help him?”

Ali gripped Mickie’s hand tighter, she was a little unsteady on her feet. “I can try. I’m not as strong as I’ve been before, but I’ll help him how I can.”

Ali had no idea how he was still here. After healing a couple of his injuries back when they found him, he should have been dead a while ago. 

But he wasn’t.

He was still here, and that’s what mattered.

- - -

Tag List- @imagination1reality0 @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @thehopelessopus @burtlederp @whump-me-all-night-long @lave-e @yesthisiswhump 

[thewildomega]

Feral Red Dog ch. 1

 A/N: So I will say this again Trigger Warning. Also this Awesome Fan art of young Sakazuki is not mine, the artist to what I understand deleted their account so I hope they won’t mind me using their work. Anyways I hope ya’ll like it and if you could leave me some feedback it would make my day. 

Sitting on the cold, hard stone you winced at the ache of your backside and the burning pain of your wrists. Looking down at the cuffs binding your wrists together you noticed the red stain to your skin and tilting your head, you bit your lip at the sight of your now raw flesh, patches of flesh rubbed away by the rough metal. Sighing you pulled your knees up to your chest in an attempt to get more warmth to your near freezing body. The cave- like place those disgusting pirates deemed as a good hiding place was damp and cold, seeming to seem into your very bones. It had been days since you had seen the sun and even longer since you had eaten, you were pretty sure your body had given up asking for food at this point. You felt so weak, even if a chance to ever escape came you doubt you would be able to make it far in your state. Glancing up to the man currently posted as your watchdog you saw him sitting on the crate, his own eerie black eyes lifting from where he had been sharpening a blade to look at you. Dropping your head to your knees you let your heavy eyes slip close and took in a shallow breath, your broken ribs making it hard to get the air you needed.

Sleep almost had you under her spell when a loud boom filled the air and then the cave shook. Cannons. Snapping your eyes up you saw the man become alert as well, standing and holding his long blade in his hand while his other moved to his pistol on his hip. Men shouting and yelling echoed through the tunnels of the cave, one word making your blood turn to ice, "Marines!"

Scrambling to your feet you started towards the male, "Hey, hey come on you have to let me...Ahhh!" A hard smack to your left cheek sent you falling to the rocky floor, blood dripping from your lips. 

"Quiet girl!" He huffed. 

"JET, KEEP THE BITCH ALIVE! SHE'S WORTH A FORTUNE!" Another male voice rang from down the tunnel. 

Breathing heavily you could only listen as the marines began infuriating the cave. Gunshots and yelling bounced off the cave walls. The high pitch clash of swords and screams of those being injured or killed filled your ears. Your heart was soon to beat out of your chest like that of a cornered animal about to be slaughtered. Swallowing hard you felt your body begin to tremble as the heavy boots thumped on the cave floor. They were coming. Seeing the male that had been keeping watch of you yell out and charge forward you tensed. A blood curdling scream was heard before a body fell into your line of sight, a young man dressed in marine whites that were quickly turning red. The sound of a gun went off, a bullet ricocheting off the rock walls and more yelling. It was now or never. Either way you were most likely going to die, you wouldn't go down without a fight. Hurrying to the side you looked around the large bolder to see the man who had been watching you battling a marine. Snapping your eyes in the other direction you saw shadows of men on the walls. Licking your cracked lips you hear a gasp and looked to see 'Jet' cut the other man in the abdomen, the male falling backwards. Watching as the pirate lifted his gun, pulling back the hammer and aiming at the young male you saw a fallen sword laying by the dead male and acted quickly. Grabbing the blade you ran towards the male and shoved it through his shoulder blades as hard as you could. Watching him fall dead beside the injured marine you met the young beta's eyes for only a moment, shock filling his grey eyes before you took off down the tunnel. 

Skidding to a stop as more fighting broke out in front of you, you opted for running around them. Hearing what sounded like the captain of the pirates yell for someone to grab you, you kicked the man who went to grab you in the groin as you ran for the exit. A sharp pain in your thigh made you stumble, your leg falling out from under you and a broken cry leave your throat as you rolled to the ground and out of the cave entrance. Whimpering you grit your teeth and forced yourself to stand, your right leg now barely able to hold your weight. Seeing an open grass covered plain in the full moon's light you began limping as fast as you could for it. As the sound of the battle seemed to grow more distant you thought you may be in the clear before something was sending you falling towards the ground again and hard. Whimpering you let out a huff though your nose as you tried to push yourself up again. 

"Give it up, Pirate scum." 

Hearing the extremely deep male voice you pushed yourself up to your knees, the male's shadow falling over you as he came to stand in front of you.

Looking over the what he now knew to be female he watched as she struggled to get to her knees in the tall grass. Walking around to stand in front of her he looked down at her and noticed imminently the iron shackles around her wrists that were not marine grade. It was hard to tell in the moonlight but she looked like she had been through hell. As her tired eyes met his he scanned over her beaten face he quickly came to the assumption that she was not in fact one of those pirates but more likely a captive of theirs. Still though there was something wild in her eyes. Crouching down to get a closer look of her he was hit with a strong scent that made something primal in him purr with delight. he now knew why she was being held captive by them, this young woman was an omega. Reaching out to grip her jaw in his large hand dodged her attempted bite and dug his fingers into her skin a little as he tilted her face to each side, looking for any signs of pervious claim, seeing none he raised one brow. 

You knew him, oh God why did it have to be him? Vice Admiral Sakazuki. Fear, all you felt was fear and it was made worse by the overwhelming scent of his alpha hormones. How, how did it come to this? With you on your knees, wrists chained, with none other than the most feared vice admiral staring down at you with his hard, brown eyes, seeming to burn a hole straight to your soul. Holding the alpha’s stare you grit your teeth, "Well get on with it." you growled. If he was going to kill you you wished he would hurry it up. But to your surprise the male only let out a small huff of amusement before the corner of his lip lifted up, his next words changing the rest of your life.

"You'll do." he huffed. 

Furrowing your brows you felt your heart hammer in your ears. Watching him stand back to full height you wanted to ask what he meant but the world started spinning and other muffled voices were growing closer. Feeling very lightheaded you blinked your heavy eyes and saw him no longer focusing on you as he spoke to whoever else was there. Weakly you tried to move, pushing your body up to your wobbly legs but fell to the ground shortly after. Looking up at the stars as they twirled around the night sky you saw something dark block your view. Deep muffled voices sounded like thunder in your ears and then you were being lifted from the dew covered grass and an immense warmth was enveloping you. Trying to keep your heavy eyes open you parted your dry lips to speak when a deep voice cut through the darkness evading your mind. 

"Sleep omega." he told her and felt her small form fall limp in his arms. Carrying her back to his ship he made his way straight to the med bay and barked out for one of the doctors to come attend to her. Now in the light of he ship he saw she was small, frail even. Her dirty and matted hair looked to be a Crimson red and she was very malnourished, her torn and bloody clothing doing nothing to hide how skinny she was. Stepping back as the doctor went to work on her he crossed his arms over his chest. 

"Who is this woman Vice Admiral?" the doctor asked. 

"That is something I intend to find out. Treat her and keep me updated on her condition." he spoke deeply, leaving no room for discussion. 

"Yes sir." the woman said and heard the male's heavy footsteps grow faint as he left them alone. 

.............................

Hushed voices. Warmth. Pain. Groaning you felt your brow twitch and the extreme dryness of your throat. Attempting to swallow just to get some kind of moisture you flinched when something touched you. Feeling your head get lifted some and another pillow get moved behind your head you whimpered at the stiffness of your body. 

"Shhh, it's alright, you are safe. Here drink." 

Feeling something touch your lips you obeyed and swallowed greedily at the water the unknown woman was giving you. Once you had had your fill you turned your head slightly and felt her pull the glass away. Cracking your eyes open you instantly closed them again at the light that blinded you. Flutter your lashes open slowly you felt your eyes adjust and then blinked a few times before finally being able to look at the woman, the nurse as she was so obviously dressed. Casting a glance around the room you saw what looked to be a hospital room. White walls, white floors and white ceilings. It smelled clean as well. 

"You are in the hospital on Marine headquarters." she told the woman in a kind voice. 

Snapping your eyes back to the beta female you tensed at the information. You could only stare at the brown haired woman as she went about telling you how lucky you were to be alive and how Vice Admiral Sakazuki had been the one to 'save' you. 

Noticing the woman's breathing pick up she reached out to touch her and saw her instantly recoil. "You are okay miss, you are safe here, no one is going to hurt you." She told her. "Can you tell me your name?" she asked but the woman wouldn't answer. "Are you hurting at all? I can adjust your medication...."

"No." you spoke, your voice cracking a bit. No you didn't want her to put you back to sleep, you needed to find a way out of here. 

"Well you must be hungry. I will go get you some soup and inform the Vice admiral that you are awake."

"Time..." you croaked out, glancing to the window and seeing little to no light. 

"It's almost dawn. He is likely not up yet but he was very clear that he was to be told when you woke." she spoke, adjusting the woman's blankets. "You just relax and I will be back shortly." 

Watching the woman walk out of the room, closing the curtain behind her to give you privacy you looked down to your body and saw you wore nothing but a simple grey gown.  Lifting your arms you saw your wrists wrapped in bandages along with a small one over the cut that had been on your forearm. There was an IV line in the top of your hand. Following the line up to the stand you saw two bags, one most likely fluids and the other medicine of some sorts. Taking a deep breath you bit your lip as you pushed yourself up into a sitting position, your muscles aching along with your side. Hooking a finger in the neck of your gown you saw your upper half wrapped in bandages as well. Pushing the blankets from your legs and lifting the gown up your thigh you saw a thick layer of gauze wrapped around your mid thigh, the gunshot. That would pose a problem in your escape. Turing to hang your legs over the bed you eased off the side and had to quickly catch yourself from falling to the floor. Panting you took a few minutes to adjust, pulling the IV out of your hand and tossing it to the bed. Stumbling to the curtain you peeked out and saw another bed on the other side, a sleeping man there. Noticing a neatly folded pile of clothes on the table you narrowed your eyes. 

After painstakingly pulling on the man's marine uniform you sun your hair around into a ball on the top of your head and tugged on the cap, tucking in any stray hairs. Walking to the opening the nurse had left through you peeked out and saw as another nurse, an older lady moved behind another curtain across the room. With a deep breath you started across the room and out to the hall, keeping your head down. Looking left then right you saw no one either way but could hear voices coming from the right so you chose left. Walking for some time you saw people coming towards you, two doctors by the looks of it. Panicking you grabbed the vase of flowers from the nurse's station counter and kept walking, holding the flowers over your face. 

"Morning officer." one of the doctors spoke. 

"Morning." you muttered, making your voice as deep as possible. Hurrying down the stairs you continued holding the vase until you got to to the main front desk and placed them down. Walking out of the hospital you started going down as many side streets as possible until before long you had no idea where you were and the sun was up in the sky. More people were out on the street now, marines and what you assumed were their families. Seeing a woman walking with two small children you swallowed hard and moved to her. "Excuse me miss..." When she turned to look at you you licked your lips, "I was wondering if you could help me out, I'm new here and well I'm a little lost. Could you tell me where the docks are?"

Smiling she tilted her head. "Of course, I was the same my first few months here. If you go down this main street you will see a sign that tells you to go right and you just follow that the whole way down to the docks." 

Nodding you gave her a small smile and thanks before following down the way she told you. Feeling your leg throb you bit the inside of your cheek and pushed on. If you were lucky you would be able to slip aboard a leaving ship and then play marine until you could slip away on the next island. Turning right like the woman said you were passing a storefront when something wrapped around your waist, a large hand coming up to cover your mouth before you could say a word. 

................................

Walking down the halls of the hospital, people moved out of his way per usual. Getting to the wing she had been in for the last four days he saw a nurse carrying a tray of soup and other small things towards her room. The young woman looked up at him and grinned politely. "Good morning Vice Admiral, I was just about to bring her something to eat." 

"So she is awake then?" he asked, moving to help open the curtain for the nurse so she wouldn't spill the omega's food.

"Yes sir she..." 

Hearing the young woman stop short and seeing her face turn to one of shock he quickly looked to the bed to see it empty. "WHERE IS SHE?!" he roared. 

Shaking at the alpha's loud roar she felt some of the soup spill to her front and quickly looked up to his eyes, shaking her head. Opening and closing her mouth a few times she swallowed hard, "I.. I don't know sir, she... she was just here. I only went to tell someone to inform you and then walk down to the dining hall to get her something to eat. I don't understand how she..." 

Moving into the room he saw the IV line on the bed and her discarded gown on the floor. Narrowing his eyes he pulled back the curtain of the next room and saw a male laying in bed, his head wrapped in bandages. Looking to the table he saw the man's clothes gone. She had taken them, she was impersonating an officer. Growling he walked past the nurse and out to find the omega he planned to make his. 

Marching through the streets he snapped his eyes ot every officer he saw, scanning their face. She was injured so she shouldn't have been able to get far but truth be told she shouldn't have been able to even get out of the hospital. It had been almost a week since he had found her and since then she had been out cold. The doctor on his ship had told him she had been lucky to be alive. Along with a gunshot wound to her thigh that had caused her to loose much blood she had many broken ribs and the wounds on her wrists from the cuffs had already begun to get infected. She had been kept on antibiotics and pain medication to help her catch up on the rest her body obviously needed. With all of that he couldn't lie that he was impressed by her determination and will but that changed nothing, she would be his. 

Continuing to look for her for sometime he was beginning to get frustrated when he heard his name being called and turned to see a petty officer running towards him, the young boy stopping to salute him. 

"Vice Admiral Sakazuki, you are to report to Fleet Admiral Kong sir." the young boy said. 

Sighing he nodded his head and watched the boy make his leave. Giving one last look around he grit his teeth, he hoped she wouldn't find her way off the island before he got finished attending to Kong. He still kept a look out for her the whole way but to his disappointment she was no where to be found. Knocking on the Fleet Admiral's door he heard the male's deep voice and opened the door. What he saw made him freeze. Kong was sitting behind his desk, his large arms crossed and his face as serious as always. Occupying the long couch in front of the desk was none other than Vice Admiral Garp and Admiral Sengoku. Between the two large males, sitting with her arms crossed over her chest and a hard glare on her face was none other than the little omega he had been looking for. Meeting her eyes he saw a fire in them that was willing to battle with his magma. 

"Take a seat Sakazuki, we have much to discuss." Kong spoke and watched the male close the door. 

Walking over to sit in one of the two chairs on either side of the couch he looked again to the omega and saw her give him a heated glare before she turned her head and looked towards the window. 

"I will take it this is the 'surprise' you encountered while on your mission?" Kong asked. 

"Yes sir." he spoke. 

Humming he looked to the girl. "Would you like to tell us how you became a captive of pirates... Y/n?" he asked, noticing Sakazuki's brow twitch just the slightest amount. 

Remaining silent you continued looking out the window until you heard Sengoku speak from beside you. 

"Go on Y/n, tell the truth." 

Sighing stared out at the sea, "Got caught trying to sneak off their ship." you grumbled. 

"What the hell were you doing sneaking on a god damn pirate ship girl?! Didn't I tell ya to stay on that island and behave yourself?!" Garp yelled, smacking the girl in the back of the head. 

"Ow! I told you I didn't want to stay there! It was boring as all hell!"

"That was the point you little shit. We put you there because you would have been safe..."

"Safe my ass old man the slavers started coming around more and more. If I hadn't left when I did they would have found sold me to the dragons then and there!" 

"So you thought that you would do what y/n, hitch a ride with pirates to the next island and then go along your way? What then? What was your plan then?" Sengoku asked in that disapproving voice of his. 

"I don't know, just keep moving I guess." you shrugged, looking down to your lap. 

"Well look how well that turned out?" Garp scoffed. 

"You should be grateful Sakazuki found you when he did, if not then those pirates would have no doubt sold you to the highest bidder by now." Sengoku added. 

Continuing to ignore them you opted for looking out the window. "So what now, you all just drop me off at some island again?" you growled. 

"No." It had been the first time he had spoke through all of this and he saw as the omega....y/n's eyes snapped to him, a confused look on her face. 

"Sakazuki?" Kong asked. 

Looking over the omega he felt a strange pull towards her and blinked before directing his attention back towards the Fleet admiral and raising his chin. "I choose her, she will be my wife." he spoke in a deep voice. 

Shocked by his sudden claim you felt your mouth fall open a bit before an anger filled you and you let out a growl, "Go fuck yourself asshole!" you snarled. 

"Y/n! What have I told you about using that kind of language. Ladies do not.." Sengoku started but you cut him off. 

"I ain't no damn lady!" 

"Well that's for damn sure..." Garp grumbled

Listening as the three on the couch went on bickering Kong held the young vice Admiral's eyes for a moment, reading him. Taking a deep breath he looked back to the three and blinked. "Go wait outside with her. Sakazuki and I need a moment alone." 

Seeing Garp and Sengoku stand on either side of you and feeling them grab your arms you shook them off and stood on your own, stomping out of the room. 

Once they were left alone Kong leaned back in his chair and looked to Sakazuki. "You still have time you know, to choose a wife. Your promotion to an admiral has already been decided but it will not go into effect until the end of the year that gives you plenty of time to look around." 

"I do not need to look any further. I choose her." he said affirmably. 

Closing his eyes he thought on the matter. "You found her Sakazuki, by law the omega is yours to claim but I will warn you that she will not submit easily." 

"What is her story?" he asked. 

"We don't really know. When Rocks was defeated ten years ago Garp found her chained up at the bottom of on of his ships, she was just a child. She was badly beaten and half starved. She doesn't remember anything about her past other than the fact that Rocks had killed her entire village. From what we figured he took her as a pet or trophy of sorts. She hasn't ever opened up about her time on the ship and from the shape she was found in she may never. Once she was treated here for a time and her body healed she started to show signs of an omega and we made the decision to hide her away. I am sure you are aware of the Celestial Dragon's obsession with Omegas, most are taken from their families as soon as they show signs and sold to them. Given her past we knew she would never make it if subjected to that kind of treatment." 

"Do you know how old she is?" he asked. 

"No. We guess she was about eight or so when Garp found her and from what she could tell us Rocks took her when she was around five."  Kong told him. 

Grunting he saw Kong open his eyes and look to him. 

"You are certain, you know you will not be able to change your mind once you claim her?" The fleet admiral asked. 

"Yes sir." 

"Very well." he said with a sigh. 

Watching as Kong called for Garp and Sengoku to come back in he saw Garp currently holding onto Y/n's forearm as she hit and kick at him. 

"Let me go you geezer." you growled. 

"Geezer?! Keep on and I'll..." 

"That's enough." Kong spoke. Looking to the young woman he saw her giving him a hard glare. Taking a deep breath he let it out slowly, "Y/n, you will marry Vice Admiral Sakazuki."

"Like hell I will!" You roared. 

"It is not up for discussion!" he yelled, stopping her and both other men from speaking again. 

Breathing heavily you looked to the Fleet Admiral and then to the large alpha male sitting in the arm chair with his arms crossed. When he stood and walked over to tower over you, you lifted your eyes to actually look him over. The hood of his white hoodie was still drawn, a cap still on his head and a deep scowl on his face. 

Looking down at the omega he rose his chin and smirked at the look she was giving him. This would be interesting.

@lawlerek​

[stones-x-bones]

One For All || Dani and Bex (ft. Kyle)

TIMING: Concurrent with this PARTIES: @surmamort @inbextween and @darkh0wl SUMMARY: While Dani and Bex hang around campus waiting for Kyle, they realize that someone else is waiting for them. CONTENT: Gun use, Suicidal ideation, Death

Bex groaned as she rifled through her bag. It wasn’t here. The one book she needed. She’d left it back in the classroom, hadn’t she? She looked sideways at Dani, who was sitting idly on the bench across from her, before back towards the building. A few moments away from her wasn’t going to hurt, right? There was no way Frank would come after her inside the school during the day, right? The common area outside was only bustling with a few other summer class kids, enjoying the sun that had been gracing the sky the last couple of days. It was unusual for this much sun this time of the year, there was usually so much more rain. Bex remembered how much rain there had been just a week ago, and how that rain had saved Mina’s life. Had saved her own life. She squinted up at it before sighing and standing up. “I’ll be right back,” she said to Dani, then added on, “I just forgot one of my books in the classroom. Promise I’ll be real quick. You can stay here and keep our spots so no one steals our prime real estate.” It was the only table that was perfectly positioned under one of the trees to lend itself full shade no matter what time of the day. She didn’t wait for much of an answer before slipping away, heading towards the school, making sure to take the most populated route possible.

What Bex didn’t know was that she wasn’t the target this time.

The two hunters had been watching them all day. They’d been told the shorter girl would be alone. Dani was her name. Frank hadn’t given them all the details, but he had told them she wasn’t human. One had a pistol with silver bullets drawn, but shook their head.  Not beast. The other had an iron dagger, who also could not feel a thing. So, undead, they supposed. This would make things more difficult. Still, the two drew to the shadows as they rounded on the girl, now alone at the bench. The beast hunter, a sturdy, dark-skinned girl, aimed her gun. The first shot was a warning. The second went straight for its mark. 

Dani felt as though things were falling into place. It had taken a while to feel that way, especially in regards to her moms. Their reluctance to provide more information left Dani mostly frustrated, and though she knew the gist; her father had been killed in the sake of not wanting to torture fae, she knew there was more behind those documents that the professor had sealed up. But she’d been practically barred from digging further into exactly what kind of research he’d been a part of. Though neither Jeanette or Lauren said it, she felt sure that the professor had been warned. It was a feeling rather than full of certainty, but it was there. It was getting easier to pull herself out of her thoughts of betrayal, and though the anger simmered, there were distractions. Like Bex. When her friend spoke, Dani looked over for a brief moment before dog-earing the manga she held. “Are you sure?” The hunter worried her lower lip as Bex insisted that she’d be alright. She felt the hair on the back of her neck stand as her friend disappeared into the building. The brunette set her book face down and stuck one leg over the opposite side of the bench, eyes trained on the doorway for Bex to come back through. 

A few moments had passed and Dani nearly missed the sound of urgent footsteps arriving from just behind her. She looked over her shoulder just in time to hear the gunshot ring. The second came fast, but Dani managed to dive to the side, the feeling of rocks scraping her palms. She got to her feet immediately, flicking her wrist to unsheathe the dagger in her hand. “What the fuck? What the fuck--” She managed to two step to the side as another shot rang. “What do you think you’re doing?!” Dani yelled as she spared a quick glance over her shoulder towards the doors. Where the hell was Bex? 

It was strange, the beast hunter thought. Why would an undead need to dodge bullets? It didn’t matter, they fell in line behind their warden friend, who took out three small daggers and launched them, one after the other, at the girl. He wanted to see how nimble she might be. Dodging bullets was easy and smooth when you had super hearing or super strength. Judging by her standing in daylight, she was either a zombie, or those special types of vampires his friend had tried telling him about once. He’d had no interest in them, though, and had long since forgotten their names. He didn’t wait too much longer before charging directly at the girl. They didn’t need to say anything, they weren’t here to answer her questions. They were here to cut off her head.

Bex was taking the steps by two-- a bad idea, considering the pain in her side and her leg-- when she heard the shots echo. She’d never heard real gunshots before, but they had such a distinct sound, she knew right away. “Dani?” she said, pausing, stumbling. Gripped the railing, before whirling herself around when a second-- a third-- shot sounded. Dani was shouting, yelling at someone. Bex leapt down the stairs-- oh, bad idea-- knees buckling as she struggled to stay standing and fling herself down the hallway and back outside again. “Dani!?” she called out, watching as two shadows advanced on her. One had a gun. One had a gun. “DANI WATCH OUT!” Magic reaching beyond the distance between them, fear and anger mixing like blood and oil, volatile. It touched the sidewalk, and the bench they’d been on, and the trees as Bex ran towards the three hunters. She hadn’t expected the one with the gun to turn and fire at her. She yelped as it grazed her arm and sent her careening to the ground, hands covering her head. 

The knives shot out, too, and Dani felt one slice into her forearm. She suppressed the scream that bubbled in her throat, leaving it in. She couldn’t be sure if it had hit an artery, not when she had to avoid two others. She managed to avoid being sliced by the remaining, but had little time to collect her thoughts. The hunter heard Bex before she saw her. “Go back inside!” Dani screamed back at her friend. When the hunters pushed forward, she felt fear grip her heart. What if they went after Bex? Was this why they were here? Were they witch hunters? She could tell they were hunters from the weapons they carried, but why were they coming after her? One look over her shoulder, and Dani saw Bex on the ground, blood pooling at the small injury in her arm. 

It was red, the anger that the hunter felt. It prickled and vibrated in her sternum. It was hard to ignore, the way that it gripped her. Dani hated that Bex continuously got hurt, and for what? Why should her friend continue to suffer?! “Back the fuck up!” Dani shouted again, moving towards Bex who laid on the ground, arms over her head. “Did you fucking hear me?!” She shouted again as the figures continued towards her. She stood in front of Bex, guarding her with her own body. If they wanted to get to Bex, they’d have to kill her first. 

The warden kept his eyes trained on the target, watching her falter when a blade sliced her arm. But, soon, she was racing to put her body between them and the girl crumpled on the ground. He hissed at his companion, “We’re not supposed to hurt anyone else!” To which the beast hunter replied-- “We don’t know what any of these people are! She could be with her, for all we know!” She holstered the gun, however, because guns did naught against the undead and she pulled out her engraved, silver dagger. It wouldn’t hurt the undead, but it was refined enough to cut a head clean off. “Let’s just get this over with before someone else shows up!” she growled, and lunged, swinging the blade in front of her. The warden followed suit, ducking in behind her, honing in on the girl on the ground. Frank hadn’t told them about Bex would be here, they didn’t know any better.

When she was sure there were no more gunshots coming her way, Bex rolled to her side and slapped her hand over the wound on her shoulder. Blood pooled over her fingers. She was so goddamn tired of bleeding everywhere, all the time. Of people thinking her life meant so little that they could just hurt her and keep hurting her and not stop. The anger that built inside of her was as red as her blood. Her teeth clenched so hard together she felt her jaw crack. A wind began to whip up in the area surrounding them. Someone was coming at her, but the ground beneath them buckled. Bex was an expert at disturbing the ground, now, whether it was intentional or not. It caved in and swallowed the boy’s foot, and he smacked into the side of the crater hard, his knife skidding a few feet away from his hand. Bex looked at him with so much hate in her eyes, he shuddered. “Leave me ALONE!” she shouted, and it reverberated in everyone around her, inside their heads. “LEAVE US ALONE!”

We’re not supposed to hurt anyone else! Dani’s brows creased. What the hell did that mean? They weren’t after Bex? Dani saw the way that the two hunters looked at her. Their gaze was not unknown. It was familiar, and she knew it like the back of her hand. They were here to do a job, and she was said job. She wasn’t sure what kind of misunderstanding could have led to them believing that she was anything that deserved hunting, but there was no time to reason with them, not when they were pushing in. One hunter was hard enough, but two? Especially one with a gun? She and her dagger were unmatched. The purpose, she knew, was not to kill them, but to keep them down long enough for them to be dealt with. She knew that, so why did she feel so much anger? Why did it course through her, spinning and spooling in the pit of her stomach, forming like electricity across her skin? 

Before she could react fully to the pair of hunters, the ground beneath her began to quake. She felt it tremble, and then earth jutted up, creating a hold on one of the hunter’s feet. Dani blinked away the surprise. There wasn’t enough time to ask questions. “Bex,” Dani said, not turning around to look at her friend, “are you okay? It didn’t go through, right?” She continued to stand in front of the witch, her own dagger still drawn. The blade that had been stuck into her arm was covered in blood now. Every move she made stung. She could feel it burrowed into her flesh, but it wasn’t something she could focus on, not right now. “Why the fuck are you attacking us?” She figured they were past reasoning, but she needed to know, especially when the shock of the earth swallowing one of the hunter’s feet was so fresh, leaving a moment to wonder.          

The warden struggled against the ground breaking underneath him and trying to swallow him. The other girl was a spellcaster, and that was dangerous. They needed to cut their losses or make this quick. If they could subdue the spellcaster, then they could easily take out the undead girl. His eyes flicked to his companion. “I’ll take the spellcaster, you just concentrate on the target, okay?” The beast hunter nodded and turned her gaze to the girl who had put her body between them and the spellcaster. Her eyes narrowed. She didn’t understand what was going on, but she didn’t need to. As a hunter, she’d learned to not ask questions. That wasn’t the way of things. If there was a monster, they killed it. The girl on the ground was screaming at them, and the undead girl was slinging questions at them. They didn’t have time for this, even as she felt her head begin to ring, blood rushing to her ears. “Why the fuck do you think, monster?” she hissed back, before jumping straight at the girl again. If she could go for the legs, cut off her ability to move, then taking her head would be easier.

It was happening again. Bex was watching again as someone she cared about was being hurt. Everyone around her always got hurt. Because of her. Because of her family, her magic, her stupid decisions. They were attacking Dani because of her. Bex scrambled to stand up. Anger was coursing through her but she couldn’t do anything. She couldn’t. If she used magic, her mother would know and things would get worse. She reached for Dani, watching as the girl with the knife lunged at her. “Let’s just go!” she called out, tugging on Dani’s arm. “Please, let’s just--” but they were both lunging now. Bex let go of Dani and tried to duck, but the boy caught her off guard and tackled her to the ground, her back hitting hard. Stars blotted her vision as air left her lungs. She kicked and struggled, but he was pressing down on her neck, cutting off her air supply. She didn’t want to use magic. She couldn't, she couldn’t. She reached for Dani. Her anger reached, too. She didn’t want it anymore. She didn’t want this life anymore.

Dani balked as the girl called her a monster. What the fuck was happening? Before she could continue to ask her questions, the two hunters were bounding towards them again. The space was closing in and Dani felt her heart in her throat. Her own dagger dropped to the ground as she instinctively reached up. “NO!” Dani screamed as the boy lunged towards Bex. Dani ignored the second hunter and immediately recoiled from the blade that came her way. She punched out with her good arm, palm curved enough to catch the nose of the girl, enough to make blood begin to gush as it connected with the cartilage. Dani had to get to Bex. She turned just in time to see the boy on top of her, his hands at her throat. “BEX!” Dani screamed as she dove towards them. As soon as she connected with Bex’s touch, anger flooded her unlike before. It was red and sickly.

It made her head spin. It filled her head and she saw stars. It ran in tendrils down through to her fingertips. She itched to close her hands around his throat, to squeeze until life left him. She wanted to do to him what Frank had done to Bex, what her mothers had done to her, what this horrible fucking world had done to every single person she’d ever cared about. “NO!” Dani bellowed again, immediately ripping the blade that the girl had flung into her shoulder. Blood spurted, but not enough to make Dani worry-- not enough to make her care. But God, it hurt. It was a searing pain and it was numb, but she moved forward. She did what she did best; she ignored her pain. She swallowed it whole. All she saw was red. The blood on her hands, the red in Bex’s face. Dani reached forward without realizing what she was doing. She tackled the boy off of Bex and wrestled him to the ground. Her own blood pooled onto the two of them, swelling and dotting his white t-shirt rouge. Dani didn’t have the time to recognize the familiarity in her movements, or the way it felt wrong, or the way that the fear had reached his eyes as he realized that these would be his last moments. Dani plunged the knife down into his heart, just as she would any vampiric kill. Only he didn’t turn to dust.

Bex? Wasn’t that the name of the girl Frank had told them he was helping? Why was she here? The beast hunter faltered. Blood gushed from her nose. It was a move that cost too much. She reached for her friend. “Lucas, wait--” but it was too late. The undead girl was pouncing on him, wrenching him from the girl on the ground-- from Bex-- and her fists pummeled him and then there was a knife. “NO!” she screamed, lunging for them. But it was too late, again. The knife plunged into his chest so deep and so loud she heard bones crack and muscle tear as the blade penetrated his heart. In her fury, she tackled the other girl off him, rolling with her as fists came down. “YOU KILLED HIM!” she shouted, fighting to remove the knife from her hand. “You monster, you killed him!” 

The warden gurgled blood on the ground, grasping at air, at something that wasn’t there. Bex wheezed and huffed and tried to blink away the black, tried to catch her breath, too. She heard him choking on his own blood. She rolled onto her stomach and crawled over to him, hands pressing against the wound on his chest. Whatever these two had done, however angry they had made her, she hadn’t wanted them to die. She hadn’t meant to be so angry. She hadn’t wanted Dani to kill for her. She didn’t want anyone to kill for her. “I-it’s okay,” she stuttered, but she knew it wasn’t going to be. So did he. She saw it in his face, and suddenly she didn’t see him and it saw Frank instead. He reached up to her, pushing her away. “I h-hope i-it was w-worth it,” he stuttered through blood pouring from his mouth. “W-was she, w-worth it?” Bex didn’t know what he was talking about, she couldn’t get the image of Frank out of her head. Why couldn’t she make it go away? “Tell Frank…he was wrong…” Bex shivered. “Frank? What about him? What are you--” but she knew. She knew. She was seeing Frank because he was seeing Frank. The realization set inside of Bex’s stomach like stone. Her gaze turned up to Dani, still struggling with the other hunter.

“S-stop,” she stuttered, “Stop!” she stood up from the warden, her hands covered in blood. He was dead, now. He’d died because of her. Because of Frank. Because of his delusions. She had to get to Frank before he got to Mina again. “STOP!” she shouted and her magic reached out and touched the two alive hunters’ minds and told them to stop. 

The rage burned. It had made her feel as though her chest were going to concave, as if her bones would turn to ash, replaced by nothing but the red. The red on Dani’s hands, what spilled down the front of the boy’s shirt. She saw it everywhere. Even though it was still an evening blue, the sky seemingly had blistered into something sickly, too. Her hands were still around the blade that’d been thrust into the hunter’s chest, but she made no move to get off of himt. Not even when she heard the female hunter bellowing behind her. She stared down, shock and horror creeping as if a shadow down her throat, blooming and growing until it was pressed against every part of her. The fury stayed, it stayed hot and loud and Dani could barely listen to the pain in her arm, or the back of her head as she fell to the ground from the launch of the second hunter. 

Dani acted as if made of mechanics, her bones and skin and blood-- it all floated before her. There was somebody on top of her and they were trying to wrestle the blade away. They were calling her a monster. What had she done? They had called her a monster before, when-- Dani blinked away the tears as she struggled against the hunter’s hold. They were stronger than her in this moment, because truthfully, Dani wasn’t sure what was left of her now. She still felt like she was floating. Until she was sinking. Until it felt like every root from every tree held her down, gripped her throat and squeezed. Until her chest felt heavy and the blisters of anger burrowed so deep that she wasn’t sure they’d ever be removed. She couldn’t turn her head, or look at Bex. She stared up at the second hunter who hovered above her, seemingly in the same hold. She tried to look at Bex, and she tried to make a noise, but all that came out was an animalistic cry as she caught sight of the boy who was dead on the ground. She could see his shirt, it was covered in blood. Bex’s hands were, too. She thought about her and Morgan’s conversation. Dani wanted to scream, to reach out, to wipe away the blood, to pool it into her hands, to make it go away. Only she couldn’t. She was frozen, forced to face what she’d done. 

First, Kyle’s shower had run long. He was listening to a good playlist and he didn’t get out until the water started to run cold. And then he took forever to get dressed. He wanted to look at least a little presentable for his friends. Just a little. It wasn’t like Bex and Dani knew him to be on time, so Kyle wasn’t exactly worried when he hadn’t heard from them. They knew he’d be there. And he was! Except, when Kyle came strolling across the campus, he heard sounds of a fight or a struggle or something. He felt a pang of anxious worry flare up in his chest, but he squashed it down. It was a college campus, it was bound to happen that there was some yelling somewhere. But when he heard a shout that sounded suspiciously like Bex, that anxious feeling gripped him tight and wouldn’t let go. Kyle quickened his pace at first, trying to remain calm until he knew what was happening, but broke into a sprint as the screams continued. Like, an actual we’re fighting to the death kind of racket. He couldn’t mistake it for playful banter. 

Kyle was still running at top speed when he came up on the scene; Dani was pinned beneath someone and they were both covered in blood, Bex was similarly covered in blood and it made sense it would be her own, there was a third blood soaked party, unmoving on the ground. Kyle didn’t have time to process, he didn’t have time to think more than to just breathe. He tried to run through the calming mantra he’d heard Bex whisper to herself before, but the coppery scent of blood--his friends’ blood--filled his nostrils. Before he could consider all courses of action, he was throwing himself at the person on top of Dani. He bowled into them, gripped them around the middle and sent them both rolling, end over end, sideways and off of Dani.

Bex stumbled backwards when Kyle was suddenly racing by her and tackling the other girl off of Dani. All she could think about were the images the other hunter had in his mind. Frank had sent them here, had told them to kill Dani. He had lied to them. They thought Dani was a supernatural. He was coming for her. He wanted to kill her. He wanted to kill Mina. He was going after her, first, and then he was coming for Bex. But her mind stuck on Mina. He’d already tried once, and Mina was now weaker for it. She was still recovering. But if he wasn’t here yet, that meant there was still time. She could make it to Mina in time. Bex felt her anger, her fear, her panic return to her in droves and they told her to move, to go. She didn’t say a word as she stumbled past the dead warden on the ground, she didn’t say a word as Kyle tussled with the other hunter. She didn’t say a word as Dani sat frozen on the ground. She just ran. She just had to get to Mina. Mina was the only thing that mattered now.

The beast hunter tumbled. She’d been too distracted by the image of her dead friend-- laying but five feet away from her, beating down on the monster who’d killed him-- to notice the second monster coming her way. She felt him first, glancing up just in time to watch him ram into her. They tumbled head over heels for a moment before she got her legs placed on his chest and kicked him away. He was some sort of beast, it made the hairs on her arms stand on edge. She went to pull her silver blade out, but realized she was way outnumbered, out matched. She eyed the beast, pressed low to the ground. Would he follow her or would he go to his friend? She had to hope he’d be too distracted with her. She took off away from him and towards her friend-- her dead friend. Scooped his body into her arms and looked back over her shoulder at the other two. “You’re a monster,” was all she said before she took off. She needed to get her friend back to his family. They’d want to bury the body. They’d want to know how their son died. 

Every move Dani made reverberated throughout her entire body. The pain in her shoulder was more noticeable now, and even as she shifted, her arm fell limp at her side. The adrenaline, fear, and rage that coursed through her veins was still loud. It ate at her. She continued to stare ahead of her, before she was shifting her attention back to the hunter who had been knocked off of her by somebody. It had happened so fast that Dani didn’t have the time to rationalize what was happening, or figure out that Kyle was the one wrestling the second hunter to the ground. Finally, Dani managed to sit up. Everything moved slowly, and even though she knew everything was loud-- the screams that circled them from a few onlookers that managed to spill out of the school, it was all quiet. Blurred. As if she were under water. The body next to her laid eerily still. Dark eyes stared up at the sky unmoving. Dani shook her head and tried to crawl towards it, but fell short as her arm gave out from beneath her. She slumped down to the ground, her good shoulder digging into the dirt. “No, no, no, no,” Dani slurred, her voice hoarse. She hadn’t done that. That wasn’t her. 

She heard a noise behind her and then somebody was stepping over her to get to the body, to the boy she had killed. The female hunter bent down and picked the boy up with ease, but not before shooting a quip her way, not before confirming what Dani had feared, that she’d been the one to do it. She hadn’t remembered the feeling of the blade in her hand, or the way it felt when she had ripped it out of her arm. Everything hurt now, it was hard to ignore. She shook her head. She was covered in blood. Her own, as well as his. “No,” Dani panicked as she tried to clamber after the hunter. “No, he’s--” She choked on her words as she attempted to get to her feet, to follow after them. She fell again, the pain shooting through her as she stumbled into her bad shoulder. Stars splintered across her vision and vibrations found their way into the soles of her feet, the palms of her hand, the back of her mouth. She felt it all, all of the red, all of the grief, the anger. 

Kyle had the wind knocked out of him as he fell back from the hunter’s kick. He reeled for a moment as he tried to breathe. He looked up at her from beneath his eyelashes as she stood, his pulse pounding in his ears. He balled his hands up and clenched fistfuls of bloodsoaked earth as he willed himself to calm down. Every inch of him, every instinct, willed him to shift and not let her escape. She had done something to his friends. She had hurt Dani and Bex. The thought of his friends pulled him out of the tunnel vision he was sinking into. As the hunter retreated, he whipped his head around, eyes searching for Bex. He spotted her as she fled. As worried as he was, all he could think was how stupid it was for her to be alone now. He pulled a fist from the ground and slammed it back down. He struck the earth with all of the force of the frustration he felt. He could feel his knuckles split; hear his bones crunch on impact. He didn’t care. He needed to make sure his friends were okay, that they were alive, that Dani--Dani. 

Kyle shoved himself to his feet, stumbling a moment as he forced his lungs to work properly again. Breathe, just breathe, he told himself. He rushed to Dani’s side, trying to assess what was her blood and what wasn’t, but there was so much of it. “You’re okay, you’re okay,” he whispered, though if that were directed to her or to himself, he couldn’t be sure. “Come here.” Kyle placed a hand behind Dani’s knees, and one against her upper back. “Okay, Dani, I need you to stay with me.” He’d definitely heard people say that in movies, right? That’s what you said here, right? He tried to swallow down the anxiety that held firm in the pit of his stomach. That couldn’t happen right now. He couldn’t think about losing her. “I’m gonna pick you up, okay? We have to get you--,” where? Where could he take her that made sense, that would be able to take care of her, that would keep her alive? “--out of here. Can you--are you--Dani, are you human? Do you want to go to a hospital?” Fuck, what if she wasn’t human? Didn’t matter, he’d figure it out. He didn’t pause long enough for a response. He didn’t want one. “I’m gonna pick you up,” he said again, voice shakier than it was before. “One, two--”

Dani barely registered when Kyle knelt down beside her. She could still hear the screams. There’s so much blood! Somebody call an ambulance! Everything felt far away. Even as Kyle was speaking to her, she heard it through something else, as if her ears were blocked. Where was Bex? Dani tried to twist, to get away from Kyle as he picked her up, but she couldn’t move. She slumped against him as she felt herself being lifted into the air. She could see the ground moving beneath her, but she couldn’t tell why. “Bex,” Dani murmured, her voice small and broken and twisted, coming out nearly unrecognizable. “Where is she?” The hunter kept her eyes open out of fear that she’d see the dead boy. His dark eyes were burned into her vision. She felt Kyle’s arms around her. They felt wrong. She didn’t deserve comfort or care. She deserved to burn, to bleed. But she was too tired, too tired to fight it. She felt sluggish as she turned her head, forehead pressing against Kyle’s chest. How much blood had she lost? It was impossible to figure out what was hers and what was the hunter’s. She could feel the rise and fall of her chest, ever so slowly. She felt herself being shifted and suddenly she was no longer in Kyle’s arms. She was in a vehicle. She could feel the hum of the engine throughout her entire body. She stared at the door handle as she slumped against the window. She wondered if she should pull on it, let herself spill out onto the road. Instead, Dani closed her eyes. 

[batarella]

The Commander - Part 9 (Arkham Knight x Reader)

I just want to thank you all for the kind comments and messages. I was afraid of disappointing you with the next chapters. So please let me know what you all think! It lets me know if I’m on the right track!

WORDS: 3272 WARNINGS: UHMMMM YOU FIGHT WITH JASON AND THEN THERE’S A WHOLE MIX OF ANGSTY FLUFF AND FLUFFY ANGST 

Masterlist

THE COMMANDER - MASTERLIST

-----

“So what do they call you? Peashooter?”

This kid was a fucking menace. And the red and yellow on his suit just made him even more irritating to look at. The bullets just bounced off of him. Either that, or she’ll have to face her uncle for missing so many shots at once. She gripped onto the two pistols with her life.

Aim for the head.

She saw his cape rolling into a pile of boxes and fired.

“Silver Sniper! The Mini Gunner! Come on, I can think of loads of names right now!”

The boxes had become an exploded mess by then. Robin wasn’t there. She backed off, panting. Y/N had to get out of this. She focused on the sounds, or any movement from the ground’s vibrations, but there was nothing. Which meant-

“Fuck!” Robin jumped from the ledge above and tackled her to the ground. Y/N kneed his groin, then landed a punch on his face. She pushed him off of her and ducked just as he pounced for her head.

He blocked her kicks with his arms, then grabbed her right fist, then her left, just as she threw them, but she high kicked his hold and pushed him back. She kept throwing her punches, and he easily blocked them without blinking.

Y/N growled, but Robin just smirked at her. He threw a punch at her stomach, but didn’t see her foot aiming just at his chest.

He threw back, and it was enough time for her to pick up her pistols and aim at his head.

But just as she pulled the trigger, two batarangs landed right at the muzzels. The firearms exploded in her hands and her body was thrown to the floor. Robin laughed. “You were looking an awful lot like Lara Croft there, kid.”

“You think this is intimidating me, bird boy?”

“Without your precious guns, maybe it is.”

Xxxx

Jason ran right up to her, withstanding all the bullets she could fire with his armor thick enough to go against missiles, and pushed her to the ground, picking up her guns and throwing them over the roof. The Commander kicked him in the stomach and rolled off.

“No guns.”

His voice filter just sounded annoying at this point. Y/N picked herself up and ran to him, throwing a punch aiming for his neck. He saw her alternating strikes and dodged every one of them, blocking her knee with his own wrist. She landed a kick, but he grabbed her ankle and flung her off to the ledge, her back hitting the cement.

“Stop throwing me around, asshole!” she coughed.

This man was one she wanted dead at some point and was so tempted to help kill him, she was almost at the front gates of Arkham just to do so. At the last minute, she decided against it.

She might be a killer, but she was no monster.

Then she ended up sleeping with that same man, several times, even going so far as sharing a kiss at a time and place that a kiss meant the most.

And here he was again, Jason, finishing a war that started years ago.

Jason skidded to her front, his shoes making her lose balance. They rolled around the floor, with either on top and throwing their fists only to meet the ground. Y/N was first to roll off and regain her stance, but Jason managed to duck before she hit his head.

She had to tire him out. His hits were strong. Too strong in fact. More of those and his arms would eventually weaken. It was her turn to block his fists, her torso turning around while also keeping an eye on his lower body.

Her punches were swift, fast, and almost as light as air. They weren’t enough on their own, but if she gained her momentum it would be enough to throw her opponent off. She knew Jason had that in mind, especially since he was the exact opposite. He was slower, but each hit was strong enough to land her on the ground.

It had always been hard to best him. In fact, she never could say she’d beaten him in a fight. But this will be the first.

As a fight long awaited, it was too bad no one else saw them. They were dancing. A violent, bone-crushing dance.

And it was epic.

Her legs were flying in the air as Y/N twisted his arm and placed her whole weight right on his shoulder. She pulled at his wrist, gaining a cry from him.

“Get off me!”

“You asked for this, you son of a-“

And a massive blow of his strength pushed her off. She was panting, and she let her guard down for a split second and he had her against the wall, grabbing her by the collar.

“This making you hard, Knight?” she whispered.

Jason should’ve seen her knee between his legs. He let go of her, and she tackled him to the ground. She tried hitting his visor, but her already bruised fist gave out and Jason flipped them over.

He held her down with his muscled arm hard against her neck. Y/N struggled and she could only look up to his visor. The glass had broken and his grunts were no longer filtered. She could see his face, teeth gritting, and his eyes looking straight back at her. She used the last of her strength to push him off.

It had to be hours. The Commander was panting, and all her limbs felt like falling to the ground. “Stop!” Jason said, struggling to pull himself up the floor. He had to catch his breath as well, opening his visor to let the cold air in. She leaned her arm against the cement.

The sky had lightened. And the stars had disappeared. She was breathing so hard the air just seemed too thin. Jason laid flat on the ground, staring blankly above. Y/N pressed her back against the ledge and her body melted to the ground.

The worthiest opponent. And still, no one bested the other. She waited until the air wasn’t such a blur and the floor no longer spinning, and he on the ground. They sat there for as long as they’d fought until the sun had fully risen.

He hadn’t said a word, but she could see his chest rising and falling, eventually into a steadier pace. When she thought she could, she stood up, slowly walking up to Jason.

She caught his eye, and extended her hand. He looked at her up and down, but for once, he actually took it. She pulled him up.

“This conversation never happened.”

Jason pulled his hand away. “Just the conversation or everything that happened after it?”

“Need I remind you the militia leaves for Gotham in three days. This was stupid. We don’t have time for this.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

She brushed off her suit, lasting a glare at him before turning for the hatch on the floor. She pulled it open.

“I’m sorry,” Jason said.

She didn’t even look back at him. “Fuck off.”

Xxxxx

Her head was burning. She needed ice, right at the center of her cheek. She tried not to look at Jason or else she’d attack him from across the table again. He had a new visor on, as if he kept spare ones in his drawers. If she had broken bones somewhere they’ll have to be ignored.

“I told Stagg the Cloudburst arrives in Gotham today. He’s responsible for hiding it in his bunkers until I give the signal.”

Deathstroke filled in. “How do we filter out the effects from our men?”

“Their masks give them immunity,” said the Knight.

“And does everyone have this mask? I told you we had new recruits.”

“Everyone is accounted for,” Crane said. “Our men will be fine.”

“Have you even tested the toxin recently?”

Scarecrow stood from his chair. “The Cloudburst will do much more than just release the toxin. I’ve asked Stagg to amplify its poison gas into the density of rainclouds. The city will be a barren wasteland. And if the Dark Knight fails, all of Gotham will fall.”

Jason seemed satisfied. “I’ll make sure to alert our men before I release the toxin.”

“I thought the Commander drives the Cloudburst,” said Slade.

“If it has anything to do with facing Batman head on, I’ll do it. The Commander’s tasked mainly at HQ.”

“Actually,” Crane said. “Commander Y/N has the expertise to control the tank, don’t you Commander?”

The Commander sat back against the chair. “I do.”

“She’s the best man for the job, Knight.”

“I said, I’ll do it. We had a deal. I get to kill Batman!”

Scarecrow wasn’t bothered. “And is it with the Cloudburst that you end his life with? The Cloudburst isn’t used as our primary weapon, Knight. It is used for the toxin.”

“It’s the best weapon we’ve got.”

“Then perhaps that means our drones are far from enough.”

Slade stammered, “Those drones are mine and they work perfectly.”

“I don’t care if I have a knife or a tank,” Jason said. “He looks into my eyes while he dies.”

“Your delay in Gotham tells me your history with the Dark Knight will work to your disadvantage.”

Fuck.

“We had to hack into GCPD,” The Commander finally said. She’d join in on the argument, but her jaw hurt too much. Then she took out the hacking device from her jacket and slid it across the table to Slade.

“The Commander has her own work. I will not just sit in a chair and watch everything happen from a camera.”

“We all know you won’t be doing that, kid,” Deathstroke interrupted. “I say we send the Commander.”

“Her best position is to watch and control all comms and drones at HQ. She will lead the whole army. I gave her that job weeks ago, Wilson.”

“Enough,” the Commander said. “I’ll take the Cloudburst. The Knight can take a serpent drone and attack the Alpha Target once the tank destroys his car. He kills him right then.”

Slade slams his palms against the table. “How bout that?”

“A serpent drone?”

“I fire at his car, you make sure your visor filters out the gas and you take him out from above.”

Jason seemed skeptical, but Deathstroke had already stood up from his chair. “Have at it, Commander.”

Jason wasn’t having it. He went after Slade after he’d left the room. The commander winced at the pain in her lower body, struggling to even stand up. She started for the door, and Crane blocked her out.

“Commander,” he whispered. Y/N pretended not to look at him.

“What?”

“I know what went on with you and the Knight.”

The Commander kept looking at the ground. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“I have eyes in Gotham. You cannot talk your way out of this.”

“Whatever it is you think, that isn’t the case. Nothing happened between us.”

Crane neared his face dangerously close to Y/N. And suddenly, she had a whiff of his toxin. It was in his breath. In a daze, she looked straight into his eyes and saw demons crawl out of them. Her breath was shortened and she stiffed.

“I don’t care about either of you,” he said. “But if this affects the deployment of my toxin in any way, I’ll make sure he suffers your own consequences.”

“Get out of my face, Crane.”

“I know your fear. I know everybody’s fear. The Knight is deadly, but the man’s as fragile as broken glass. And as stubborn as a mangy dog. You would know that.”

He was making her see it. And hear things she wasn’t supposed to hear. There were screams. Not hers, but of Jason’s. And she could see his face crying out in agony. But she couldn’t look away from the blackness that was Crane’s eyes.

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Yes, in fact, you do,” Crane breathed and backed away.

There were still remnants of the toxin when he headed out the door.

“You have two days, Commander. Make it count.”

Xxxx

It was death.

That was what stared at her in the face.

It wasn’t just Jason, or Crane. It was death.

It was cold, and the streets were barren and full of shit. They were far away from the city, but the countryside had a small town just a mile away. She didn’t have to take her bike. Y/N walked even when the sidewalks were small enough for her to be run over at just a slight turn of a wheel.

But she didn’t care, not even when she felt it rain so slightly, the droplets disappeared as it made contact with her clothes. Y/N pulled up her hood and continued down the road.

There weren’t much people, even at this hour. She wasn’t even afraid anyone would pull her to the alleys and leave her defenseless. Her focus was on the ground, moving downward until she met the curb.

The light glowed red, even with no cars passing by. She stood there, waiting. And in front of her was a small diner.

It was the classic retro feel. There was a jukebox at the corner, red seats backed up against the window while a waitress in blue took the orders of the two people inside. A mother and her son. He seemed happy with the single slice of pie on his plate.

She looked away before she’s thought about it even more.

But even then, it was too late. It hurt before it even dawned to her.

In another world, where she wasn’t taken in by her uncle, she’d have gone into a diner just like the one in front of her, ordered a burger and a chocolate milkshake knowing the rain would fall in and it would take her too long to get home for dinner. Then she’ll take a seat at the counter.

In that world, she’d have met a boy looking at her from a few seats away, smiling. And she’d smile back when her order appears and they realized they got the exact same mix of the smoothie they wanted. The boy would take the seat beside her, ask for her name. And he’d tell her his. That boy would have the brightest blue eyes and she could already tell he had the habit of scratching his nose.

And they’ll talk all night even after everyone else in the diner had left, when the cook had to drive them out. He would offer to take her home, and she’d decline at first, but eventually give in. She wanted to give in. And by the end of the day, he’d have her number and they’ll see each other that weekend again. In that same diner.

In that world, she wasn’t a world-renowned assassin, and Jason wasn’t a vigilante with a broken past.

But-

But-

Fuck. She was so in love with him, it was terrifying.

But they had no business being kids, being cute, being so harmlessly in love and go on walks and even dates.

They had no business lying on the floor, eating burgers at three in the afternoon.

They had no business being so uncomplicated, when everything comes so easily and nothing would be at stake.

They had no business having a relationship. No matter how much she’d have wanted that. Not after their history. Not after what they’ve both been through. Not after what Floyd had raised her into and partially stripped her of anything normal.

Jason. Tortured. Being mauled on the floor while a madman beats him like a lifeless sack of hay.

Then someone stood beside her. She didn’t have to look at him.

“Stop following me.”

Jason didn’t answer. He looked on at the diner and he had the same look on his eyes as she had.

“You look at the diner, too.”

“Go. Away.”

He didn’t leave. Instead, they stood at the side of the street, not moving even when the light in front of them turned green.

She didn’t say anything more. Didn’t even look at him.

“I wish… I did something,” she swallowed. “I wish I wanted to save you.”

“Stop. I didn’t mean what I said. Forget about it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I said stop.”

The woman in the diner held up a spoonful of pie and her son opened his mouth wide. It looked delicious even from the distance. The traffic light turned red and just one car drove off in front of them.

“Jason-“

“I saw the look on your face. Back at the cave. I knew you’d have figured everything out by then, about what happened to me at Arkham.”

She was stone cold and stiff.

“But none of that mattered. I didn’t care if you wanted me dead at one point. The whole day I was with you in Gotham, it was the first day I hadn’t thought about Joker… or Batman. Anything.

“I walked out of the cave hoping you wouldn’t run away after knowing who I was. So I kissed you. And you kissed me back. Then I let you hold me and I told you my name. Then… Jesus…”

Y/N still hadn’t turned away. She wasn’t crying. She couldn’t. It was the droplets from the rain that ran down her cheeks. Nothing else.

And by that time the traffic light had turned back to being green, the diner was dark and empty. She didn’t want to look to her side. Somehow, she knew Jason would just walk away, without so much as another word. He’d do something like that, and it wouldn’t be much of a surprise.

But he stayed.

For a long while, he did. So she asked, without much to expect.

“Can you walk me home?”

Just that. She could at least have that. Something so miniscule from the world she longed to be.

“Okay.”

He stayed right beside her. All the way back to the barracks. And the dark rain prevailed.

And it was the same when they reached the empty training grounds, deep into the back where the living quarters were. The walk to their rooms was silent, and their clothes drenched the floors all the way up to hers. Jason walked straight into his, without so much as another word.

She went into her room and locked the door, but her hand didn’t leave the doorknob. She stood there, silent and alone. Y/N never felt so lost.

But it had to have been long minutes, because she heard four knocks on her door before she’s even walked away. She opened it and Jason was standing there, his hair a wet mess, and he held up a coffee mug.

“Hot water,” he said. “Drink it before bed.”

Y/N didn’t have much energy left to decline. She took it from him. “Thank you.”

Jason stepped back, and she closed the door again.

Her whole body leaned against the hard wood of the door and she could feel a part of herself drip to the floor at each second she’d have to look into his hurt eyes. She’d fallen in so deep, and she hated herself for it.

She opened the door, determined to go after him.

But he was still there, at the door, just about to go into her room himself.

Y/N’s never felt so at the edge of breaking down when she met his eyes, panting. And with the pain, came the rush of cold air, the rush of cold relief. Jason went into her room, pushed her against the door to close it. He could feel her breath, wanting him.

He held the back of her drenched head and pulled her to his lips. She dug in to his hair, gripping it hard when his lips escaped hers and found their way back to her neck. Her other hand traveled down his clothed arms. She gasped, and Jason slowly guided them both to move to the bed. He’ll never pull away. Soon there were no more boundaries between them, no distance. They lasted all night, no longer with any trace of regret.

-----

THE COMMANDER - MASTERLIST

-----

SMUT FANS. YA’LL KNOW IT’S ABOUT TO GET DOWN IN THE NEXT CHAPTER

  Taglist: everyartistwas-firstanamateur  @sarcasmismyfirstlove @damned-queen-of-gotham @idkmanicantenglish @wunderstell @birdy-bat-riya @get-loki@everyday-imfangirling @comic-nerd-dc @multifandoms916 @icequeen208@offendedfishnoises @egdolan @xemiefx @arkhamtoddler @elsenthal@mythicbitchx @supremehaunter @ burning-alive  @lucy-roo

[heli0s-writes]

Fuckin’ Legit

Pairings: Reader x Bucky Barnes Summary: Follow up to Fuckin’ Teamwork, based off this ask. A/N: More silly shenanigans. Dumbass reader :) 2.1k words

Bag of Tricks Masterlist

Bucky watches from a distance as you hurl through the air and land right heel-first on the training dummy, knocking its head off and making it bounce off the floor with enough force to lodge itself into the ceiling. The room of SHIELD recruits clap and cheer, and when the dummy’s head flops back down you kick it like a hacky-sack at Maria Hill.

“Great demonstration,” Hill catches the head and tucks it under her arm. “Are you interested in teaching a course in hand-to-hand combat with a focus on aerial recovery? Legitimately?”

“Only if you promise not to fall in love with me.” You send a wink at her and then, as soon as you see Bucky’s bewildered face through the other side of the glass, you leap after him. He’s convinced you’re dumber than a bag of rocks, but you’re not deterred by it—especially not after Maria Hill’s validation. Puffing your chest, you skip forward, “Hey, Buck! I’m legit!”

Immediately, you trip and face plant into the nearest surface. The room collectively hisses in discomfort.

“I take that back.” Maria hurriedly ushers the recruits out before they can witness anything else.

Bucky slips through the door and roughly yanks you up by your elbow, wincing when your nose reveals a line of blood dripping into your mouth. “Legit, my ass. Come on. Stark called for us.”

-

The air in the conference room is stagnant and overwrought with a million unsaid—unscreamed—expressions. Tony pivots on his lifted heels, finger jabbing toward the big screen where a dark and grainy image is projected.

“Care to explain this? Friday pulled it from a broadcast coming from the cell.” He narrows his eyes at you as you slump down into the swivel chair until only the top of your head shows. “How about you?” Tony gestures to Bucky.

Tony has a laser pointer in his other hand, and he shines the red spotlight on the picture where Bucky’s knees are bent and planted to the ground. The dot trails over his thigh and then over the smaller frame beneath him.

You’re there, arched upward into his torso, legs hooked around his tapered waist, heels digging into his spine. Four of his thick flesh fingers are shoved inside your mouth, pulling your cheek open, and the dim light catches a sliver of your wet tongue. His other forearm is pushed onto your sternum, holding you down.

It looks bad.

It looks like Bucky is dry humping the daylights out of you in an abandoned Hydra facility.

Sam erupts into a screeching laugh when he finally pieces it together, pitching forward until he’s flattened against the wood table. “Ho-Homygod--- This is the best day of my life. Is this the cyanide incident?”

Bucky is red from head to toe.

Natasha rolls her eyes and slides away from the table. “Tony, she ate two cyanide capsules. Barnes was wrestling them out of her mouth.”

Tony stiffens for a moment as he ponders the truth behind her statement. Then, he quirks his head like an owl, flares his nostrils, and stoops beneath the table to find you resembling a boneless pile of flesh.

“Everyone is dismissed.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation. “I wish I could fire you.”

A quiet whimper escapes your lips, the most pathetic noise to ever come from a human being. “But…” You whine pathetically, “I’m legit.”

-

A few nights later, you find yourself sneaking through yet another dusty old hideout. Surprise, surprise, Hydra is bad with maintenance and loves asbestos.

Steve made you an outline of all your tasks on his mission, written in all caps, folded neatly, and shoved it into your back pocket before departure. You skimmed over it on the plane before crumbling it up. The first bullet point had glared: NO CANDY.

Tightass.

You easily clear the wing and dispatch your status to Sam who is waiting patiently in the jet, fingers on the console. Bucky is patrolling the perimeter and you are taking the east side while Redwing zooms through the west.

There have been trip wires (newbie shit) and also surprisingly advanced attempts at entrapment so far (motion sensors, temperature regulated alarms). They’ve all been expertly pulled apart and rewired and you are taking a short break fucking around in the hallway, peering at dusty paintings of – some old dead bald guys. You take a picture of one and send it to Tony, labelled it’s like looking into the future.

Chortling, you continue down the corridor aimlessly until you hear a creak.

The knife in your hand is blade-first and coming down hard on the body sneaking up until— “Oh Barnes!” You cry happily, tucking it back into the strap on your wrist. “Good. You’re here! There’s only one more room—I’ve been crushing it.”

Literally two seconds after you say that, you turn the corner and run face-first into the door. Bucky pauses as if he doesn’t quite register what just happened before slowly reaching forward and gently applying pressure to the handle.

It’s written all over his face: you’re an idiot. You are seriously lacking some brain cells.

He leads the way carefully, swatting cobwebs hanging from the ceiling and taking stock of each corner, rifle pointed forward and alert. Behind him, your boots thump noisily against the floor and a chair is tipped over when your arm crashes into it.

Bucky spins on his heels and catches the chair before it can fall on top of what looks like a very obviously placed … box.

It’s a box.

A giant red box is on the floor, outlined with a square of white tape. Two abnormally unsoiled items in a room made almost entirely out of forty-year old dandruff. Your hands are already on both sides of it before Bucky can knock you out of the way.

“Don’t!” He screams because fucking anything could be under there!

A wild animal! A toxic chemical! A bomb! Snakes, for fuck’s sake! His eyes widen at the fading shadow cast on the floor as you lift the top away. Then, his heart stops beating.

It’s a slice of cake. And a cup of tea. A single slice of vanilla sheet cake neatly decorated with a blush-pink rose and two perfectly piped green leaves. The faint smell of jasmine wafts into the air.

Bucky barrels into you before you get the chance to lick your lips.

“Wilson!” He calls into the comm as you push his face away with an offended yelp, “They’re in the east side—set a trap for us! Get over here and bring your stupid bird too! I swear to God—NO! DO NOT!”

 -

In the hovering Quinjet, Sam Wilson leaps to his feet and swoops out of the cabin, wings folded as he dives. “Come again?!” He taps on the comm wedged inside his left ear, “Barnes!?”

“-- fuck-- gonna—fucking--- stop BITING ME!”

A furious row of explosions blare in Sam’s ear as he banks a sharp left and lands on two feet, tearing his way inside the facility, checking on his wrist all the while. Redwing’s camera is glitching, but he can make out flashes of gunfire and what looks like at least five bodies, not including his two teammates. Bursts of white erupt on the screen and Sam’s heart picks up a tremendous pace before he kicks the door down, pistols out and aimed.

A silence smothers the room before grunting and screaming erupts again over Sam’s shout of, “What is going on in here?!”

-

“And this, ladies and gentlemen, is the exact moment I came upon my fellow Avengers,” Sam pauses, waving his hand with a bow at the image projected on the conference room screen.

Friday pulled another image from the broadcast before Sam shot out all the cameras in the facility.

It seems that the previous video of you eating cyanide had been intercepted through a bounced signal from the original recording’s output and those on the other end decided you were enough of a proper imbecile to be tricked by something as simple as a slice of cake.

They weren’t wrong.

Tony’s laser is in Sam’s hand and he points the dot in flashes five times, “Dead dudes. Check.” The dot moves on, landing on two splayed out legs before it runs up the side of Bucky’s body pressed to the concrete. “Barnes. Check.” Bucky shuts his eyes and slams his head into the table. “And… here we have this.”

Sam points to you, bottom lip clenched tightly between your teeth as you lurch forward, one hand outstretched and smeared with frosting while the other holds your torso barely an inch from the ground, paying no mind to the two elbows digging into your stomach. Sam points again to where your crotch is pushed right into Bucky’s face.

“Jesus Christ.” Steve mutters, flushing red, “I wrote you directions for a reason…”  

“Excuse me,” You huff, “Cake is not candy.”

“Really?!” Bucky snaps, “That’s the hill you’re going to die on!? You ran into the door! You knocked over a chair! You looked at the one thing that did not belong in the room and you picked it up even after I told you not to!”

Steve jumps back into the grilling, “And if you would have read the rest of the list—NO FOOD AT ALL was number two!”

“Oh yeah!?” You’re near hysterical now, shrieking at the top of your lungs. Stupid men ganging up on you. “What was number three? No fun!? I’m Captain America and I’m such a tightass--”

Bucky cuts you off, throwing his hands up into the air, “Number three was get the blueprints!”

“Oh.”

The room falls silent as you tuck your hand into the pocket of your pants. “Why didn’t you just say so? I nabbed ‘em as soon as I got in there. Marked off the locations of all the cameras and security alarms—not like that matters since Wilson shot them and I disarmed the rest in the east wing. Also, there were corridors and secret entryways not in the file. It’s on here now.”

Carelessly, you chuck the flash drive from your pocket at Steve and it smacks him in the chest. Sam crosses his arms and cocks his head at you, “Shit. Didn’t know you were all that.”

You frolic to the door, “See ya later!”

Three men watch on in shocked silence as you prance down the hallway, banking a sharp right towards your room. Steve stares from Sam to Bucky and then to the flash drive in his hand.

Sam clucks, “You know what… All things considered… the girl is legit.”

-

He calls your name, bangs on the door with a hard fist and when it cracks open, you peek your head out with tired eyes. “Sup, buttercup?”

“Why are you like this? The cyanide? The cake? You had the flash drive the whole time!”

You shrug off what sounds like an accusation, “I dunno. I’m good at my job.” Bucky crosses his arms. “Barnes!” You scold with a growing grin, “I’m legit! I just… you know. Why put all the pressure on myself when you’re around?”

You snort a little, scratch your tummy underneath an oversized shirt absently, and shrug your shoulders repeatedly like you’re dancing. Bucky narrows his eyes. “Are you telling me you’re an idiot because of me?”

“Yeah, Buck. I know you’ll take care of me.”

He freezes. Feels a sudden swell of heat rush from his chest to the top of his head. Bucky opens his mouth to retort, but nothing comes out. He closes it. You give him a sleepy grin, leaning on the door and swinging it wide, faltering against the knob with a yelp.

Swiftly, and true to his character, Bucky catches you with one arm.

Hanging from his hold, body twisted around, you look up into his blue eyes. They’re strangely tender, dancing over your face with an inquisitive glimmer.

The moment shatters when Bucky’s gaze stops at your neckline. “Is that—" he frowns, “Is your shirt on backwards?”

You nod. “Uh huh. Inside out too.”

His eyes slip shut. With a sigh, he drops you flat on your back and turns around. “You’re an idiot. I hate you.”

Down the hallway as he stomps off, cursing the moment the thought you were cute or something… he hears your voice calling.

“I’m an idiot— but I’m legit, right? And I’m your idiot, right? Bucky? Bucky!”

Bucky holds back a grin. Flicks you off behind his back. Legit or not, he would never give you the satisfaction of knowing.

-

perm taglist @whothehellisbucky​ @serpentbaby​ @badassbaker​ @alagalaska​ @cake-writes​ @crist1216​ @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​ @infinity-saga​ @jamesbarnesthighs​ @pinknerdpanda​ @xoxabs88xox​ @imsoft-barnes​ @momc95​ @typicalangel​ @wretchedgoddess​ @readeity​ @iwannasail​

[adrenalinesaint]

When one departs from under the sheltering wing of one’s benefactor, one must reckon with a sudden and profound lack of money. And while poverty had been a running theme in Jonathan’s life, having to clear out his old laboratory and find a new one, with all of three hundred dollars in his checking account, was more than difficult. Penguin’s people lock the door behind him, and all he’s got are his costume and a few barrels of toxin.

Three years ago, he would have been utterly defeated.

Gotham City, 3:24 AM, on the interstate-405, an armored car bearing the Waynetech logo is maintaining a steady 60 miles per hour. The woman in the driver’s seat and the man in the passenger’s seat are armed with bulletproof vests, stun batons, mace spray, and pistols -- all of which are hidden behind tinted glass. Their destination: Wayne Tower, where their payload would sit under guard for another two days before the weapons and defense exhibition the following week. Developers in the field of defense would be arriving from the world over to see what Waynetech had created for their militaries -- and, with a little finesse, they won’t find what they came for.

On an overpass overlooking the interstate, a tall, thin silhouette stands out against the streetlamps behind it, standing on the edge as though it may jump to its demise. With careful calculation, it’s possible to gauge whether or not human bones will break upon impact -- although there are a few other factors to consider: traction, for one. So, the figure on the overpass, getting a clear view of the armored car incoming, reaches down to tighten the cramp-ons its secured to its feet.

When the armored car comes fully into view, the driver gestures to the passenger. A figure standing on an overpass in Gotham can mean only a few things: suicide, or a heist. The passenger brandishes his pistol first, checking the chamber for a bullet and nodding to his driver when the confirmation comes in the form of a solid click. When they pass under the overpass, the sound of something heavy hitting the roof of their car is followed by a long, shrill scraping sound. From up top, the black-clad figure’s cramp-ons leave long, silvery streaks where they’d gripped into the metal roof.

Footsteps echo overhead. The passenger holds their finger over their lips to the driver, and the driver, now starting to sweat, keeps a trembling grip steady on the wheel. They don’t speak, but there’s a mutual understanding that if they crash this car, this entire section of the interstate is blowing up along with them. The dangers of driving delivery in Gotham. And the driver had just quit their pizza delivery gig.

For a few moments, it seems as though nothing will happen. In hopeful confusion, the driver wonders if whatever had happened was all a bad daydream.

And then the blade of a scythe comes crashing through the windscreen, the point of which stops mere inches in front of the tip of the driver’s nose. Letting out a shriek of sudden fear, she swerves, forcing the passenger to drop his firearm to reach over and grab the wheel to stabilize. They cannot run off the road. They cannot crash. With a heavy foot on the break pedal, the armored car comes to a skidding stop in a tunnel, fishtailing out in the middle of the lane.

The passenger gets out first. The driver is too frightened by the near-death experience to stir for a few moments, frozen in terror, but does only after her comrade is outside the car and appears relatively safe. When she too comes stumbling out of the driver’s seat and into the tungsten-lit tunnel, she finds her comrade aiming a shaky firearm just above the exterior roof of the car. But, when she looks, there’s nothing there.

“Mark, what’s going on?” She asks, out of breath from the adrenaline.

“There’s -- there’s something there -- something on the truck, Esther...” Mark’s pistol is wavering in his trembling grip. Esther can’t see from the distance at which she stands from him, but his pupils are dilated and the veins in his neck are throbbing. His sympathetic nervous system is on fire.

“Let’s get out of here -- “

“There’s a fucking scythe stuck in the windshield!”

From the angle of the handle of the scythe, it appears as though someone was standing on the roof of the truck and impaled it downward. As she approaches, she can see the silvery streaks from where the cramp-ons gripped the roof. Someone was here. But not anymore.

With Mark aiming his firearm at the truck, Esther swallows a mouthful of hot, dry air and resolves to move in. He can cover her. They aren’t going anywhere until this truck is secured. An explosion in a tunnel would cause significantly more damage than above-ground -- damage to not just the tunnel itself but the surrounding infrastructure. For a moment, she debates the virtues of calling GCPD so they can get the bat-signal up.

When she rounds the other side of the truck, she finds nothing but a strange discoloration on the ground. In the orange tungsten lighting though, it’s hard to tell what exactly it is -- probably just some oil leaked out of a passing car. Her feet splash quietly as she walks through it.

“I’m starting to think we may be in over our heads...” Mark is on the other side of the truck, voice starting to quiver with fear. Esther has never seen him like this before -- usually he makes a concerted effort to seem unflappable, but something is under his skin.

“Hey, come on. Robin’s like, what, twelve? If he can do this, so can we.”

“Doesn’t he say he trained all his life with elite assassins?”

“And what are we? Chopped liver?”

“I don’t know about you, but I used to be a schoolteacher before this job. Gotham’s one hell of a town.”

“No shit?”

“No --- “

Esther, while checking the undercarriage of the truck, promptly straightens, kneeling in that puddle, knees wet, ears open and alert like a feline in danger.

“...Mark?”

Nothing.

“Mark, this isn’t funny. We get scythed through the windshield, you can’t play games with me, man. M-Mark?”

When she stands, she finds that the scythe is no longer in the windscreen. For a moment, she stands in the still silence that’s fractured only by the humming of overhead lighting and the distant whooshing of far-away cars on far-away roads. In that moment of stillness, everything around Esther becomes saturated in color and texture. The cracks in the floor are darker. The lines painted on the road seem to wave and breathe in her peripheral vision.

“Mark?” As she utters her partner’s name one final time, the sound of her own voice seems to warp in pitch and tone, like dropping her own voice down a chute. “Somethings --- wrong --- “

“H̸͕͆̍i̴̻͈͂̀c̷̖̾͝k̵̖̖̂o̷̝̅̀ṛ̴͑y̸̺̏̆ ̶̲̋̊d̶͕̑í̵̢̀ċ̴͈͙k̴̭̊ó̵̜͗r̷͉̀̾y̵͖̑͠ ̴̣̊̚d̶̹̎̓͜o̶̥͌č̴͇͠k̷̙̯̈́͋.̶͉̎͠ͅ ̸̡̀T̴̻̥̂̕ḩ̶̡̐ẻ̸̛̟ ̶̐͝ͅḿ̸͙̯̎ô̷͇̯̕u̷̘̹̾s̷͓̖͝e̷̝̕͝ ̴̥́̈́ŗ̷̘͌a̷͙̟͐̚n̷̼̣̒̀ ̸̢̄̆u̸͓͊p̸̩̋ ̶̧͎͗͠t̶̢̆̎ĥ̷̲͕e̵̬͙͗ ̴̠̏͝c̴͉͗̓l̷͇̍͗ȯ̶̬c̴͓̥̔̑k̸̹̳͐.̷̡̃“

As though she were in a movie, she feels the world come into focus centered around her. In a radial blur all around her, all she can see clearly are her hands, so she reaches for her pistol. But what she finds there instead is a cold, wet slab of meat in her holster, forcing her to drop the thing in disgust. When it clatters to the ground with a metallic sound, she watches in horror as it sprouts several non-uniform spider legs and scurries away.

“Mark -- ?“

The world is spinning. Esther stumbles backward and trips, landing in that strange-smelling puddle. It’s all over her hands clothes now. The smell is overpowering -- her nose is burning -- where’s Mark?

Several gunshots echo through the tunnel, and in a whizzing ricochet, several overhead lights explode, showering Esther with sparks and shards of glass that, as they fall, transform into ash and blood and salt water. In a warp of psychadelic colors, her stomach turns and she vomits. When she comes back up from it, the tunnel is full of crows. So many that she can no longer see the pavement under her feet. The writhing mass of black feathers moves and sways like an ocean, and she’s deafened by the sound of them all screaming in unison.

Her mace. She has mace spray.

As the mass of feathers overtakes her, forcing her to the ground and pressing her face into the puddle where she sputters for air, she manages to barely pull her can of mace out of her belt and -- there! The birds wail in agony as she sprays them back. Several more gunshots go off -- and this time, when the last one echoes through the tunnel, she feels something.

Something in her side -- right in the weak point of the vest.

She looks down: her flank is black in the tungsten lighting. Maybe it would be red under white light. Is this real? Or is this part of the dream? Stunned and already in shock, she can’t feel it yet. She puts one hand over the bullet hole and pulls back, fingers stained. So it is real.

As she rapidly loses blood, the hallucinations begin to wane. There are no feathers, there was no chunk of spidery meat. Her gun sits useless on the ground beside her, and her comrade Mark stands over her, huffing lungfuls of air desperately as his shaking hands clutch his gun. Even as she watches him in her final moments alive, she struggles to understand what’s happened to her. He doesn’t seem to see her at all. Already, he’s shooting at random it seems, screaming about “They’re everywhere! My god! Everywhere!”

In an hour or two, Esther will finish bleeding out and die. For now, she loses consciousness as Mark descends further into madness.

“Ì̵͈̈́t̶̼͔̿'̵͔̤͆s̶̖̰̀͐ ̸̯̄͂ș̷̎͘o̷̮̚ ̸͖̈̊ͅh̴̲̮͊̔a̶̹̪̓̾r̵̻͚̍̓d̴̩́ ̸̣̰̂t̶̲̋ơ̶̥ ̴͖͆̚f̶̣̄̄i̴̫̻̾̂n̸̟͒̌d̶̬̃̆ ̸̘̣̐g̸͍̯̀͠o̸͘͜͝o̷̭͒́d̷͇̙͒͛ ̷̨̒͝h̴̞͔͊̿ę̴̱̆ḻ̶̬͌̈p̵̡͎̆ ̶̄͜t̸̜͝h̸̙̆̆ê̸̫͌s̵̪̦͆̈é̵̡̳ ̷̣̭͌̚d̴͓̋̑a̵͇͑̇y̵̼̬̽̑s̵̹̿ͅ.̵̩́”

The fluid on the ground was fear toxin, of course. The tungsten lighting is orange and masks the orange-colored gas that fills the tunnel. Standing perfectly within view, and yet perfectly masked by the effects of the toxin, the Scarecrow watches as the guards tear each other apart. The male shoots the female in the stomach, mistaking her for a schoolchild, as he’d developed quite the phobia of children since working as a teacher in the lower grades. She maces him in the face, mistaking him for a flock of birds from Alfred Hitchcock’s titular film that scarred her for life as a child.

In the end, Mark is left standing, but not for long. Scythe back in hand, the Scarecrow makes one fluid motion powered by whatever slight muscle he may possess and failed to behead the fellow, but does more than enough damage to his neck to ensure a swift exsanguination.

Already, though, the gunfire has drawn some attention. And the idle nature of the truck had triggered a safety protocol that alerted HQ. When the guards failed to respond to their radio pings, the bat signal went up. There are only so many things an armored Waynetech truck can run into, after all. A rogue is bound to be one of them.

Pressing the filter of his mask against his mouth, Scarecrow laughs from the sheer thrill of it all. He feels quite young again.

Hopping into the front seat of the truck, he leaves his scythe embedded in the neck of the dead guard. Let it be a love-note to Batman when he comes to clean up the crime scene.

As the truck peels out of the tunnel, leaving behind two corpses and a trail of exhaust, Crane leaves a handful of sweet Georgia straw in the wind, where it scatters through the crime scene to leave his mark.

And what’s next? Well. Someone just came into quite a bit of money.