#(blade is my favorite with red and trouble tied in second

[meganmackieauthor]

I Can't Get the Vampire Rogue to Romance Me - Ch 5

Chapter 5

The vampire rogue’s face was priceless as the goblin he thought he had killed keeled over from Evangeline’s blade. 

For a meet-cute, that was a good one.

And that was all they got. 

Somewhere, someone boomed a word of power. 

They both turned to look in that direction. All Evangeline saw was a goblin wearing a skull and holding what appeared to be the spine and rib cage of some animal like a staff, both of its clawed hands extended to the sky. 

Evangeline had time for one action. She sent her dagger to her camp inventory.

And everything was blackness. 

When Evangeline awoke, the world was rumbling underneath her. She lay on her side, and her whole body ached. Blinking her eyes, all she could see were legs. She tried to stretch and discovered her arms were bound up behind her back. For a brief second, she started to panic, but then…

Special Power: Meta Knowledge—activate

She remembered… this was part of the… part of her…

Blinking Evangeline realized she was having a hard time recalling something. Something she should just know, but for the moment, it wasn’t as important. She just knew this was all happening according to plan. What she did need to figure out was how to get out of this concerning situation. Shifting where she lay, she tried to work out if she could sit up or not. It became clear after some wiggling that there were too many unconscious bodies around her in equal states of tied up to manage it.

Then a shoulder gently bumped into her head. “Here, press against me, little one, and we can manage this,” a warm, deep voice instructed beside her. She did as she was told and pressed up. 

Sure enough, the other body gave her the leverage she needed. Around her neck, a metal collar thunked onto her collarbones as she righted herself. It was clearly meant for a larger creature yet was too small to get it off by shaking with enthusiasm. 

Instead, she regarded her new friend and realized she knew who he was. “Oh, you’re … a druid,” she amended, instead of just outright saying his name. The last thing she needed was to start things off awkward by not actually being properly introduced. 

“Yes, Hagor,” the large druid man said, nodding to her. “Of the Western Forest.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Evangeline said and meant it. “I’m Evangeline,” she said before she thought better of it. Maybe she should have used a different name, but her real one rolled off her tongue too fast. 

Some rogue I’m turning out to be, she thought to herself. But she also knew there was no reason not to use her real name here. It wasn’t like calling herself something exotic would change what happened next. 

Hagor was one of her favorite characters after Valerian. He was warm, charming, and sweet. It was everything she should like wrapped in a large man’s frame. She had thought when she had started… of all of her encounters with this world, it was Hagor she would want to romance. And then she learned…

But she couldn’t remember what it was. There was something about him that had turned her off to him, even though he was a romanceable option. But at that moment, she just couldn’t recall. 

“I think I’m losing my memory,” she muttered. 

“They cast a very powerful sleep spell on all of us. I would not be surprised if more than a few have trouble remembering what happened.”

He shifted on his seat, tucking his long, chunky legs into a crisscross. He was dressed exactly how she expected with clothing of simple green and brown weave that made him disappear into a shadowy foliage if he held still enough. His wild hair and bread were laced with twigs and leaves; though at that moment, they were also stained with flecks of red. His lower lip was split and on its way to swelling. Then he cleared his throat and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they were filled with green light. “Restorar[LM1] [MM2] [MM3] ,” he said, the word of power thrumming. The light erupted from his eyes and slid down his body under his clothes before disappearing.

Knowledge: Arcane – 10%

Evangeline swore she heard a rattle sound again followed by a merry bell. Then she just knew…

Restorar -  level one cure spell. Target one living creature. 

His face had healed, the cut disappearing and the growing bruises under his eyes fading away. She presumed any other injuries he had were also gone. 

He sighed contentedly, rolling his shoulders. “Oh, that is better. I am pretty sure my rib was broken.” He then glanced at Evangeline. “I can do it once more for you if you would like? I used my first earlier today and have not yet rested.”

She almost turned it down, but her whole body objected to that. “Yes, please,” she said. 

He smiled and repeated the process. The warmth from the light was glorious as it washed down and through Evangeline. Every ache and cut eased away. When it was all over, she felt like she had just taken the world’s greatest power nap.

“Better, little mouse?” Hagor asked even though he knew the answer.

She snorted at the endearment. “Yes, thank you,” It was silly, but that was the Hagor she knew. Everyone in his party would acquire a little pet name from the mighty druid, and sometimes, they changed depending on how he felt about them. 

The nice moment was interrupted by the wagon jostling as it went into a dip.

“Well, I hope you have a high tolerance for the uncomfortable because we seem to be in a situation,” Hargor said, observing the other tied-up bodies. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll get out of here,” Evangeline reassured, as she tried to wiggle around herself to figure out if she still had her +1 dagger. Tied-up hands made that an unrealistic goal. “I suppose they took all of our stuff?”

“I’d be more shocked and already out of here if they hadn’t,” Hargor stated. 

“That’s okay.” Evangeline glanced at the back of the wagon. She could see a whole troop of goblins, marching and laughing as they sang off-key songs of their triumph. They had just had a successful raid on an inn, so it was understandable. “Where is Valerian?”

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[haledamage]

⭐ ⭐

gonna talk about two of my newer girls because I can :D

Iorwen Emroth (Shepherds of Haven)

Her eyes are a very, very dark blue, like the late-twilight sky. Her iladrin makes them look either sapphire blue or pitch black, depending on time of day, lighting, and her mood.

She has curly silver hair that comes just past mid-back. She wears it down most of the time, but when she’s working she wears it in a braid so she can hide knives in it just in case. She doesn’t really need more knives - she has so many knives on her at any given time, two more stilettos hidden in her hair aren’t going to make that much difference - but better safe than sorry.

Between her silver hair, night sky eyes, freckles, and magic, her mother used to call her a lot of astral-themed pet names. “My north star” was a particular favorite of Iorwen’s. She wishes her mother had been alive when she got her Ket tattoo, but she always thinks of her when she looks at the words--”child of the stars.” A lot of her other tattoos are also constellations and star maps, continuing that theme (but also because she thought it looked Magey and is kind of cocky-as-a-defence-mechanism in regards to her magic. Like, if she uses her status as a Mage as a shield to keep people away, no one can turn around and use it against her as a weapon). She’s also an Astral Order Mage (Healing specialization), so really she’s just star-themed through and through. I really should have given her a more celestial name, I think :P

Ket-blooded, obviously, since she has a Ket tattoo :) when Iorwen was younger she wished she’d been born with arma instead of magic, thought it would have been easier. Norms would have still seen her as Other, but being a Mage made her feel like an outsider even among other Diminished. She grew out of it, of course, and loves her magic now, wouldn’t trade it for the world, no matter how much her kind (and herself) are hated or mistrusted, but… well, when you’re twelve years old, all you want is to be like the other kids.

Has a pretty bad scar from her left cheek, down her neck, ending just below the collarbone. Someone got in a lucky hit with a sword. It probably would have killed her if she wasn’t a healer, or at the very least ended up with a much larger scar and possibly lost her eye. Her opinion on it varies wildly from day to day, anywhere from “this scar is disfiguring and I’m hideous and no one will ever love me” to “this scar makes me look tough as shit, I’m a survivor dammit, look at how badass I am” - though most days it’s in between those two extremes, she doesn’t even remember it’s there or doesn’t really give it any thought beyond a “yep, that’s still my face.”

A sixth bonus fact since the first one was so short, Iorwen is my tallest OC (so far) at 6’1” / 185.5cm. This means that the only ROs taller than her are Blade and Red.

Natalie Shaw (Mind Games: Obsession)

Nat would love to just settle down somewhere as a motorcycle mechanic. Maybe in another life, where she isn’t a superhuman whose very existence is technically illegal. She loves motorcycles, though, and even though her own bike is now scrap metal (rest in peace, Nighthawk), she likes to hang out in biker bars and pick up hot bikers talk shop.

She has a flower vine tattoo on her right forearm, which covers up her old self-harm scars. She’s found (or is finding, it’s a work-in-progress) healthier ways to deal with how overwhelming her telepathy can get sometimes, but the tattoo helps… soften the blow, as it were. Makes the memories behind the scars a little less harsh. Reminds her that she’s still growing.

Nat keeps a bag of essentials packed in the trunk of her car at all times, just in case. It’s got a couple days worth of clothes, some cash, some other necessities. She’s always ready to run if she needs to. She always expects she’ll need to. If not today, then maybe tomorrow; if not tomorrow, then soon. It’s, uh, probably not a healthy mindset, but it’s a safe one for an Alpha. It’s why she’s still alive.

Even though I call her Nat, no one in her life really does, they all call her Natalie. Her dad calls her Nat, sometimes. Sylvia used to, before… well, before. She doesn’t really have any friends close enough that she’s comfortable being on a nickname-basis with. She’d like to get there with the team, but it’s too soon. (probably Iri starts calling her Nat even before she says anything about it, because he’s like that. Blake probably picks it up not long after. I could see Fawn and maybe Adontis asking permission to call her that after Iri and Blake pick it up (which she’d let them), but I feel like Freja and Locke would always call her Natalie no matter what… though I may have Adontis and Freja backwards here, I don’t know them really well yet)

One of my more heart-on-her-sleeve OCs. Most of my girls have masks or walls that they keep up between them and the world at large, but Nat spends so much energy trying to hide what she is that she just doesn’t have the capacity to also hide who she is. Says what’s on her mind more often and with a bit less tact than she probably should. Good news: very witty and mostly a kind-spirited person so even though she’s blunt, she usually doesn’t have anything mean to say. Bad news: if she doesn’t like you, you’ll know it, and in such a way that you’ll probably want to punch her. She’s definitely had her nose broken at least once and she definitely deserved it. Neither good nor bad news: a very bold flirt, because she doesn’t see much point in not being upfront about it? Though I think this is gonna change once her attraction stops being purely sexual and becomes more romantic because that’s new and she doesn’t know what the fuck to do with that.

[sessrin-eternity2]

Yashahime The Second Act (2)

I never ever, ever want to hear Antis call Sesshomaru a bad father again, absolutely no one. He is not a bad father, he happens to be dealing with a lot of stress and situations involving all his love ones. He happens to love his daughters very much. I believe in season 1 Sesshomaru had to lay low on showing any fatherly affection towards his daughters because of Zero and Kirinmaru are always watching him. And I believe that Sesshomaru reached the end of his rope and said, screw it. He touched their cheeks, he does care. He wants his daughters to stay alive and fight those foes who always wants to kill them. They are hanyos of Sesshomaru and Rin, it's forbidden love, so yes, there are going to be enemies giving trouble or trying to kill their children or them. So the girls must always fight to keep themselves alive and Sesshomaru will be there if he knows that there is a battle his daughters can't handle. Aww! I just love that he is touching his babies cheeks like this! Aww, his Mini Rins. Remember this, Sesshomaru's eyes are never shown when he is the most emotional, it's just like the scene in the Final Act when Rin died. And eee! He said Setsuna's name! But why though? Was it because he wanted Setsuna to wake up and she wasn't? Was it because he's blaming himself? Or saying her name for other reasons? Hope to find out soon, I'm gonna cry.

Towa and Setsuna's blades, Towa's new sword is extremely unique and remarkable, I love the style. And it looks like Setsuna's blade got a repair and an upgraded style. Those blades are possibly going to be more powerful. I love em and can't wait to see the girls use them.

Whoa! Look at Towa here in this frame! This is her human form with short hair, purple glowing eyes, Sesshomaru's purple moon cresent on her forehead! And omMokomoko, she is still using the tenseiga! She's getting more stronger like her father! Ahhh! Aww, Mini Rin with purple eyes, so cute! But dang, I hope her using all this power doesn't drain her, because in the scene with Sesshomaru, she's knocked out.

Ohh my Mokomoko! They are in the tree of ages! The watery flooring is a perfect giveaway that they are in there! The thing is... will the twins see their mother Rin sleeping in the tree? What will they think? What's Moroha going to think seeing her Aunt Rin for the first time? So many questions about this scene is floating around.

The feels! More feels! Moroha see's that her are parents alive! And look, she has tears in her eyes. Yup, I'm definitely gonna be crying on this scene too, no doubt, I'm gonna need a lot of tissues during these episodes. Question is, where are they? Is Moroha in the black pearl or did Sesshomaru release them? Hm, this will be very interesting.

! Okay, why is Riku and Kirin here?! What's going on?! Oh goshy, I'm lost for words for this scene, I have a strong feeling this maybe a shock to all of us once we find out what is really going on in it.

What is Jaken holding? A crystal or some type of flower that's tilted to the side? What is this? Is it something for Rin? Towa? Setsuna? Sesshomaru? We'll have to see what this is all about. ! Rin is crying again? Noo, please don't cry anymore Rin!... No, I don't think this is a flashback here, it looks the same as episode 24 but the tree is red and something is on Rin's neck?... Zero, you better not had of put something else on Rin. I hope she didn't and it might be something that could help her but I just don't know, she looks extremely sad in this. I wonder if Rin is crying again because they are having difficulties waking up Setsuna, Towa got hurt or Sesshomaru got hurt... or is it just her cry to be free from the tie... I'm gonna cry on this scene too... oh gosh, please don't let this be something very bad.

Ohh my Mokomoko! Adult Rin in action! Finally! Yes! Ohh she looks absolutely gorgeously beautiful, she's a petite wife! Sesshomaru is going to be a little taller than her, that's gonna look so cute! Wow! She's wearing the lovely purple butterfly kimono from the final act and she upgraded it so it could still fit her! this is so entirely sweet, Rin must really cherish it, it has to be one of her favorite gifts from her husband from Sesshomaru. She's praying that their daughters are safe... oh my goshy! My heart, Rin is just so amazing and sweet. She's a wonderful mother. The flowers that surround here, it reminds me of all the flower fields the sessh gang visited. Many comrades had said this could be their meeting place, I love it! And why not? Of course they would meet in this type of place, it's Rin's passion to be surrounded by so many gorgeous flowers. Just think about all the dates! The nights together! Ahhh! I'm freaking out in a Sessrin fangirl way! Yaaay! So sweet, cute and romantic.

Ehhhh?!!! Zero?! Your face again?! No... you better not had tied poor Lady Rin to your sorry tail, girl, you must really want your head to roll by Sesshomaru. I hope that Sessh saved her that night... Dang you Zero, you are such a homewrecker. You ruined two beautiful families just because you couldn't be with Toga and was so jealous. Sesshomaru and Inuyasha don't need you messing with their families, especially Sesshomaru since you're so into destroying his life and making him miserable... ugh, I can't with this woman. She literally went after the wife of Sesshomaru, does she know that it's a death wish to mess with Rin? That night on the grime comet, Sesshomaru was in a rush and many of us Sessrin fans believe he may had sensed his wife was in danger and flew away to her aid. Let's hope Sesshomaru got to this scene in time before Zero done anything harsh.

[sakuramidnight15]

-DAC OC Information-

Character Bio

Name: Akira Brooklynn

(Japanese: アキラ・ブルックリン)

Romaji: Akira Burukkurin

Quote: "Tch, that blondie bitch is doing whatever she wants to, don’t make me change my thoughts and opinion on her Alli."

V/A: Rie Kugimiya (Japanese)

Gender: Female

Age: 17

Birthday: December 1

Star Sign: Sagittarius

Eye Color: Neon Yellow (Left-Beast Eye), Dark Marmalade (Right-Normal Eye)

Hair Color: Dark Rose Red

Height: 171 cm

Race: Inner Beast

Species: Three-stinging Scorpio

Homeland: Revoltion City (3rd Level District)

Family: Quill Brooklyn (Father)

Soneta Brooklyn (Mother)

7 Unnamed Older Sisters (The seventh eldest is currently bedridden)

Unnamed Family Relatives

____________________________________

School Status and Fun Facts

Dorm: Ketsuekitöten

School Year: Second

Class: 2-C

Student no. 17

Occupation: Student

Pro Assassin/Hitwoman

Club: Dark Magics Club (Member), Basketball Team (Member)

Best Subject: Physical Education, Blade Handling, and Mathematics

Dominant Hand: Ambidextrous

Favorite Color: Dark Red, Black, and Yellow

Favorite Food: Pasta with extra tomato sauce, Fried Ribs, Pizza but with extra toppings, Crispy Chips, 

Least Favorite Food: Sweetness, Bittersweets, Lime Juice, Pineapples (Mostly on Pizza), Sour Cream Chips,

Likes: Fair-play Competition, Sharpening blades, Sword-plays, Napping under the tree shades, Hunting new prey down (Is a bit picky), Fresh Air (of a new wind to blow),

Dislikes: Clementine causing a ruckus (Mostly), Disappointment or Failing, Her knives getting rusty, Getting disturbed (Mostly), Himari getting into trouble (Mostly), Revealing the ‘real’ Venom Queen, 

Hobbies: Assassination Missions, Hunting (Mostly), Reading Horror Novels, Watching Horror Movies (Mostly), Sharpening her knives, Chopping Firewood, Sculpture-making, 

Talents: Inner Beast Sight, Beast-mind Takeover, Assassin/Hit woman Skills, Poison Stingers, Knife-playing, Agility, Sleuth Master, Numbly Strikes, 

Nicknames: Ai (From her family and friends)

Scorpion (Assassin Nickname)

Akira-senpai or Brooklynn-senpai (From the freshmen students)

Ai-chan (From Clementine, it sounded annoying)

Kira (From Himari)

Mrs. Scorched Face (From Geoffrey, somewhat a less insult but is fine with it)

Other Nicknames:

N/A

____________________________________

Appearance and Personality

Appearance: Akira is a average but petite female body build. She has long dark rose red colored hair that reaches to the bottom ground and ties it up into low twin tails. Like her dorm leaders, Clementine and Allison, she too is also born with heterochromia. Her dark marmalade color for her right normal eye while her left is neon yellow colored for her inner beast eye. Akira has a balance personality of being ruthless and stubborn.

Personality: Born as the youngest daughter amongst her seven older sisters, Akira had a slight but friendly rivalry with her sisters during her childhood till around at age eleven, a certain accident that involved herself and the seventh eldest sister in it, currently her seventh eldest sister is currently in bedridden for the time being while the remaining of her oldest sisters and herself continued their duties as an assassin.

However the incident permanently haunted Akira, thinking that it was her fault that it happened but actuality, she was knocked out cold while her seventh eldest sister saved her from the monster raid that costed her bedridden. Her family didn't blame despite it, but Akira felt it till now, she still visited her sister but still feels guilty.

The current Akira we're seeing is now stubborn and slightly ruthless to some individuals that she doesn't consider in her social circle but except for some of her dorm mates and Himari who she is her childhood friend. Has obtained a personal habit of giving cold stares and then gives seriously shivers to anyone who stares at her for too long, a small bits of a warning if you were try to talk back at her, but Allison and Himari would try to stop her, much to her dismay.

Despite her ruthless attitude, she has an interesting personality if you're on her good side for now. Do expect for her to do a slight close body contact if she anything that she find interesting and finds with her keen eyes, has a tendency of doing a couple of flirts but isn't easy to get flustered, I'd you tried to, you're going to make the situation even worse as she gives her some very tensions that is very heated. For the better, she's sly and cocky.

Better not get the bad side in her even worse, she can bite more than she can take. Akira can be rather the one to shut conversations with brute force or with poison she stores in herself on a daily basis, needless to say long debates of cursed words would bore her and rather shuts you up, deadly or not. She cares less on anyone opinion that bestowed upon her.

Fight venom with venom, that's a motto for herself to remember within her heart and brain...

____________________________________

Trivia

-The name 'Akira' bright, clear, ideal. Akira is a gender-neutral name of Japanese origin. While her surname 'Brooklynn' is primarily a gender-neutral name of American origin that means Broken Land Or Pretty Brook.

-She's based on Karma Akabane from the series, but is made a bit more feminine and cold.

-An expertise at poison and potions, studies a lot with it and got excellent grades in potions despite it's not one of her favorite subjects.

-Had been childhood friends with Himari at age six, reunited after entering to DAC. Both girls are pretty much close with one and another.

-Is not a fond of her dorm leader, tends to bicker a lot with Clementine and fights with her alot as well.

-Seems to be in neutral terms with Geoffrey.

-Her family works alongside with Hotaru's family, apparently knows Hotaru and has the tendency of messing with him at whatever chance she had.

-As mentioned, she's pretty close with her seven older sisters. Until one incident that putted herself into serious danger and was knocked out cold but then the seventh sister had saved her but was now current bedridden. She seems to blame herself for it while her family didn't blame her.

-Despite that she's ruthless, she's one of the few who knows about the 'real' venom queen. However it made her slightly worried.

-She has feminine voice but it sounds pretty sly and cold. Which is why I chose Rie Kugimiya to be her voice actor.

-Is definitely a dog person, has a pet labrador named 'Fixen'.

-Is allergic to pollinated flowers like Lynette.

-Has an excellent hand-writing for poetry, which only Himari knows it and no one else would.

-Definitely has challenged Lynette and Freya to a couple of duels in the past, a competitive and friendly rivalry.

____________________________________

One left-

[darknessofbnha]

I’m coming

Requested by @todogirl707​ “ Hi! I just stumbled across your blog and I already love it 💞💕uhm the bio said requests were open so if it’s not too much to ask could you please do a scenario fic with todoroki shoto where the reader gets kidnapped ? And then he has to save her? Or something like that ? Again if this is too much feel free to ignore it

Thank you so much for the request and I’m glad you like my works! I hope I won’t disappoint you! 💞💕 

I’ll take the chance to tell you guys that I’m working on the requests. Don’t worry. I just had finals, and still have them, which is why it’s taking time ^^; I don’t think I’ll be refusing requests (unless I’m inexperienced on the topic or extra uncomfortable) so don’t be afraid to go wild haha~ 

Word Count: 2247 Warnings: kidnapping; blood; gore Pairing: Todoroki x Reader

Feedback is deeply appreciated~!

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He would never forget when it happened. The memories wouldn’t even leave him to dream peacefully. They would come crawling and wake him in cold sweat with a shout stuck in his throat.

You were someone he held dear. You had been there for him when he needed support. Never mind how many times he refused, how cold he used to be, you never left his side and stubbornly clung to him. You had overheard his story during his confrontation with Midoriya at the Sports Festival and you weren’t afraid to tell him after it was all over and to once again offer him your support and friendship. He was grateful and before long, his feelings manifested into love. He loved you unconditionally. He didn’t know how to express himself though.

When you got burnt by Dabi while your little group was trying to save Bakugou and Tokoyami during the Training Camp incident, he got so angry with both the villain and himself for not confessing his feelings earlier. The thought of something happening to you and him not being able to tell you that he loved you scared him. So during that night, at the hospital, he held your hand, as you struggled to not fall asleep due to exhaustion, and confessed. It was awkward but also cute and it made you smile and laugh which was more than enough for him. He was happy that he made you happy. And that’s how you started dating.

Everything was so perfect when you moved into the dorms and you two got to spend every minute together.

But the Universe always has to put people through challenges. To test them. And it happened so suddenly that it took your breath away and swept you off your feet.

The news had been blasting about a dangerous villain who managed to kidnap people easily. Nobody knew how or what Quirk he had and it was causing big trouble. What was even more troublesome was that his victims were very young girls, obviously virgins. Rumors were that he was a crazy Satanist using virgin blood to summon demons. Perhaps a bit farfetched but it wouldn’t be surprising if it was the truth considering that the world was full with insane psychopaths.

Your Quirk was powerful – very powerful. It allowed you to manipulate earth and Kirishima often joked and compared you to Toph. Speaking of Kirishima, you were very good friends. Your quirks were compatible as well. He was the best defense and you were the best offense. That’s why the two of you decided to intern together, choosing Fatgum.

“Hey kiddos, what do you say we go out tonight and eat some takoyaki?” grinned the hero and you and Kirishima nodded vigorously while Tamaki only smiled softly in agreement. And the four of you ended up walking and chatting while eating, inhaling the aroma of the street food and absorbing the lively atmosphere. Even though it was night time there were many people out.

“Oh, I’ll go buy some ice cream!” you exclaimed when your eyes landed on the colorful, creamy texture of the ice cream and the boys nodded, telling you their favorite flavors.

“Why don’t you guys go buy some waffles and other sweet things while I get your ice creams? I’m dying for sweets tonight,” you offered and they laughed before walking away. And that’s when you heard it – the most melodic, soothing and beautiful voice.

“Beautiful, sweet girl, come to me,” it swayed on the wind and tickled your ears, beckoning you to follow it. And you did.

“Hey, little lady, where are you going? I’m still not finished with your ice cream!” exclaimed the seller but his voice got drowned. Everything got drowned, fading in the background in the shape of a dull lull as your brain concentrated only on the man calling you.

“There you are. I knew you would come,” came in the voice from your right and you slowly turned your head to look at the man. He was young, tall, very handsome with his sun-kissed skin and light blue hair tied in a low ponytail. Even under the fancy suit the muscles were visible.

Your legs moved on their own. You weren’t sure if you even felt your body at this point. You were completely entranced. You came to stand right in front of him, leaning your head on his chest and closing your eyes, allowing yourself to sink into him when his arms encircled you.

“What a good girl. No resisting whatsoever,” he chuckled and it sent pleasant shivers down your spine.

“Let’s go home.”

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“What do you mean gone?” whispered Shouto and Kirishima sniffed, looking at the ground. “What do you mean gone, Kirishima!?” shouted the boy this time and the redhead grit his teeth, letting the tears fall.

“I-I don’t know! She was with us a-and a few seconds later s-she was just gone!”

When they had returned to the ice cream parlor, you were gone. They had asked the seller but he had been able to only point at the direction you had gone towards. They had run immediately but there had been no sight or sound from you. Nothing.  They had immediately contacted the police. By now it was obvious that you had been kidnapped by the same villain that was terrorizing the town.

Shouto was numb. He stared at his classmate before his eyes moved to the floor, hands clenching so hard that his nails dug into his skin, forming crescents that bled. He was both freezing with fear and burning with anger.

“I have to find her,” he muttered but when he tried to pass through Kirishima, the boy stopped him.

“Are you out of your mind? You can’t do anything! Nobody can! Because no one knows anything about this villain!” cried out the redhead and Todoroki grit his teeth.

“Move,” he grit out as he attempted to pass but Kirishima held him again.

“Todoroki!” before he could say anything else, Shouto threw him the iciest glare. Kirishima and the others, who had been watching the display with tears in their eyes and shaking forms, didn’t even have time to be shocked when Todoroki encased all of their feet in ice.

“That’s not cool, man!”

“Don’t do that, Todoroki-san! It’s dangerous to go out!”

Their shouts fell on deaf ears because at the moment, Shouto’s mind was clouded with the thoughts of finding you and killing the bastard who took you.

He barely got past Aizawa and the Hound, leaving UA grounds and going to the place where everything happened. He narrowed his eyes as he rattled his brain about the possibilities of this villain’s quirk.

“What do you have so far?” he asked himself quietly as his brain brought up all the news he had read so far. Many of the cases were mysterious because nobody was there to see what happened. But there were a few cases when there were witnesses and all reports stated that the girls were going on about their day when all of the sudden they stopped and switched directions, walking towards something or someone as if in a trance. From what the ice cream man had told Kirishima, you had reacted the same way.

“Walking towards the source as if in a trance, huh? Is it like Shinsou’s Quirk then? Mind control?” he mused, rubbing his chin. “But if it was mind control there should’ve been some form of contact. She was surrounded by crowd. What kind of contact can one create in a crowded area. Even if his quirk doesn’t require an answer like Shinsou’s, or eye contact like Aizawa-sensei’s, there still should be some sort of cont-“ he gasped lightly. But of course. It has to be his voice. His right side grew colder and colder, frost seeping from his feet, covering the ground gently and baring footprints.

“Hold on a bit more, Y/N. I’m coming,” he vowed quietly, cold, smoky breath sipping through his lips.

｡☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆｡

You hissed, the stinging pain causing you discomfort. It was one thing getting hurt while fighting because the adrenaline was not letting you experience the pain, at least at the beginning, and completely another when someone was slicing at your body with a blade.

“That’s right, princess. Bleed some more for daddy,” he smirked, licking his lips impatiently as he squeezed your wrist, causing the blood to flow harder and making you feel dizzy. How much did he bleed you? Two, three, five times? You didn’t know. But he made sure to do it often because you couldn’t use your quirk in such condition. That and it gave him immense pleasure. You couldn’t understand him. Did he enjoy drinking blood? Was he offering it as a sacrifice? Was it part of his quirk or something? At this point you didn’t care. You knew that you were going to die. Nobody knew anything about this villain. There were only speculations about his quirk. No one would walk through these enormous mahogany doors and put an end to this.

“We’ll continue later. I have something else to do now,” he grinned at you as he left the golden goblet on the cabinet next to you before he moved to the bed and laid down next to what you assumed was a girl. You willed your vision to clear. Yes, it was a girl – probably his previous victim – and she was dead, chest torn open as if the bloody eagle was performed on her, drenching the sheets in red.

“Isn’t blood beautiful? Don’t you want to be surrounded by it all the time?” he asked you and you barely managed to shake your head, a scream of horror trapped in your vocal cords. “Don’t worry your pretty little Y/H/C head. You’ll be joining her soon,” he laughed and a tear slid down your cheek.

And at this moment, the doors burst open, getting completely shattered by sharp shards of ice. Splinters showered the occupants of the room, causing the man to shout enraged.

“Who has the audacity-“ he didn’t get to finish because more ice came towards him. The man evaded gracefully to the left, only to be engulfed in flames, making him scream. Before he could get serious burns, the flames were extinguished and he was quickly encased in ice from head to toe.

“Shouto,” you whimpered and smiled shakily. The boy’s head snapped, eyes widening. He had been so insanely worried but thankfully you seemed to be alright. When he actually reached you and took a good look at you, he realized that, no, you weren’t really ok. You were covered in slices and bleeding. He saw red. He twirled sharply, fully ready to shatter the ice alongside the person trapped in it when your voice stopped him.

“Please, Shouto! It’s not worth it! Don’t put a bad name for yourself before your career has even started!” you pleaded and he gulped, lowering his hand and turning to look back at you. You shot him an encouraging smile, trying to signal him that you were alright. He didn’t say anything as he burned the ropes and scooped you up in his arms. The police and other pro heroes were swarming the place for investigation and arresting the villain. Shouto was angry with himself for taking so long to notify the police of what he found and to formulate a plan. And you could see that he was blaming himself, that he was angry and disappointed with himself. You wouldn’t have that.

“Hey, look at me,” you whispered as you cupped his cheek. That made him stop. The two of you were far from the beeping sirens and the bustling cops. “I’m ok. Nothing happened to me. Just a couple of cuts that Recovery Girl can heal. You did well, Shouto. You saved me. You are my hero,” you told him gently as you snuggled into his chest, hearing his rapid heartbeat that was slowly beginning to calm down. He pressed a kiss to your temple and tightened his hold on you.

“I’ll never let anything happen to you again. I promise,” he murmured and you encircled your arms around his neck, bringing him closer and kissing him on the cheek.

“I’ve no doubt.”

｡☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆｡

You were accepted with happy cheers and a cake from your classmates. They literally threw you a party and it made you so happy. They were truly a blessing. Poor Kirishima blamed himself and you had to smack him over the head a few times to get it through his thick skull that he was not to blame.

It was the first few nights that were the problem. The very first night, you had a nightmare and you snuck into Shouto’s room. He had had a nightmare too and gladly accepted you into his embrace.

“I can’t get this girl out of my head. That was… the most horrifying scene I’ve seen. I dream of myself in her stead,” you sniffed and Shouto hugged you tightly as if imagining you melting into his embrace so he could protect you from the world.

“I dream the same,” he admitted quietly and you looked him deeply in the eyes.

“We are going to be ok. As long as we are together, it’s going to be ok,” you whispered hopefully and he gave you a smile – that little pretty smile he had reserved only for you.

“Together then.”

[mila-dans]

Spells Out Trouble: I Wanna Know What Love Is

This is chapter one of “Spells Out Trouble.” Masterlist Here!

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word count: 4770

Summary: You have been with the Winchesters for several years now going through all the literal trials and tribulations with them. What happens when Dean gets hit by a love spell and becomes head-over-heels for you? Will your pushed down emotions finally rise or will you get in over your head? Find out what happens when your best friend's hard exterior becomes mush whenever you end up in his eyeline.

Just so you know: This is my first Fanfic so sorry if there are aspects missing. “Spells Out Trouble” is a series with about ten chapters. Again, sorry if this isn’t perfect! If you have any suggestions or tips, I’d love to hear from you. Thank you and I hope you enjoy it! (Also, not my gif!)

“Y/N!”

You could hear your name being called as you adjusted your position on the bed. “Five more minutes,” you mumbled out as you buried your face even deeper in the pillows. 

“Y/N, wake up!” Dean said, agitated. He was still mad that you won the coin toss for the bed. Thanks to you, he got a restless night on a two-seated couch. But as of right now, you were way too tired to care.

Sam was in the bathroom getting ready first like always. Spending so many years with the boys, you learned each other’s habits, quirks, and how long they needed to get ready in the morning. Sam took the longest for some reason and after him was you, who only took maybe eight minutes to get fully dressed which always seemed to impress the brothers. Dean was after you, taking only about five minutes to get ready for the day which seemed accurate based on his minimal appearance.

“We got to go,” Sam said from behind the door.

“You hear that? We’re gonna leave without you.” Dean said as you could imagine the smug smile on his face. 

“You wouldn’t,” you replied as Dean’s taunting caused you to wake up. You, Dean, and Sam were set to go to the coroner's today and as good a day as any to see a dead body, you were especially excited because this hunt involved a witch. And you hate witches. You have a past and a very bad one at that. The boys know your strong feelings when it comes to the bottom dwelling hags. This remark on Dean’s part as to threaten to leave without you was just enough to make you sit up from your comfy position in bed and prepare to start your day. “I’m up.”

“Finally,” Dean said, throwing your weapons bag with full force right at your chest. It hurt but of course he did it on purpose. Dean always liked to pick on you, even more so whenever you were just waking up and you had your defenses down.

“Ow,” you said, glaring at Dean with only a sly smirk from him in return.

Sam exited the bathroom as he finished buttoning up his white dress shirt. “All yours,” he said to you. You nodded and rolled out of bed pushing off the sack of weaponry from you. You grabbed your FBI getup and headed to the bathroom where you got cleaned up and dressed.

You could hear the boys from behind the closed door talking about the latest victim, John Chase. You listen all while thinking about the case. So far, six men have been found dead with their insides turned to goo. You all had been at this for days and have yet to catch a break. Hopefully the new body would lead to something. Anything.

You finished getting dressed and like clockwork, just as you opened the door to let Dean have a turn getting dressed, he stood in the doorway just about to knock. His hand, merely inches away from your face, you gulped as you realized how close you were to receiving a hit to the face, courtesy of Dean Winchester. “That was close,” he said smiling.

“Yeah, close enough. Watch it next time, Winchester.” You shoved him as you walked out and towards your bed.

“Y/N,” Sam called out as you turned your attention towards him, “Which one?” He had held up two different ties in his hands, weighing them up and down as to signal to you which one was better. “Pick one. Blue or red?”

“Hmm... blue brings out your eyes but red makes you look sexy!” You said with clear sarcasm making Sam smile. 

“Really? Cause I would’ve thought it’d be the opposite. But what do I know? You’re the sexy one,” Sam retorts, raising his eyebrows.

“True, but you do come in at a close second.”

“Wow, and here I thought Dean would’ve been second.”

“Oh no. You know you are my favorite Winchester.” You say puckering your lips, blowing him a kiss.

Yours and Sam’s relationship was very different when compared to yours and Dean’s. Both of them were your best friends but Sam was able to let his guard down with you. You always had admired his sass whether it was directed towards you or not. It was fun to play and joke with him. When it was just him and Dean, he often had to be what would be called the “mature one.” Dean on the other hand liked to mess with you too but he never let his guard down like Sam does. Sam was still the only person who saw the full version of Dean. You wished Dean would let you in but you were just happy that you got Sam to. Besides, he was way easier to talk to when it came to deep stuff. You’d always go straight to Sam without giving it a second thought if you ever needed to talk and he often did the same to you.

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

You sorted through your bag as you placed all the weapons on your person that you deemed necessary for a trip to the coroner’s office. The boys always thought you had an overabundance of weapons even when attending the simplest of places. You however thought it was better to be prepared and when riding with the Winchesters, it’s best to be ready for anything. You rummaged through your bag even deeper. “Where’s the demon blade?” You asked, still continuing your search.

“It's in my bag,” Dean said as he loaded his gun with your favorite type of bullets.

“Can I have it?” You asked him as he stuck your hand out waiting to put it in the back of your belt.

Dean tucked his gun in the back of his pants and looked at your eagerness to have the blade. “Um, no.”

“What do you mean no?”

“I mean no, sweetheart. You already have a whole armory on you. You don’t need the knife too.” Even though you knew Dean was probably right, you couldn’t help but want it even more now that he had felt so inclined to call you “sweetheart” which he knew bugged you. The truth of the matter is, you didn't mind him calling you it so much as you minded him calling every other woman sweetheart too. You hated thinking that he had grouped you with every other one night stand or valentine adventure.

“Give it to me,” you said, holding your hand out even further only to have him push it away.

“No.”

“Yes,” you demand.

“Dean, let her have the knife,” Sam said with his “It’s too early for this” tone.

“Fine,” Dean said, taking it out of his bag and holding the edge about to place it in your hand.

“Really?” You said surprised he had given up so easily.

“No,” he said as he showed you that smug grin of his. He took the knife away and walked over to the edge of your bed, about to place it in his weapons bag once again. 

“Give it,” you order as you hop on the bed trying to grab it out of his hands.

“You're gonna hurt yourself, sweetheart,” he said with his once again taunting tone. You only tried harder to grab it as his arms went all around you causing you to get closer and closer to the edge of the bed. You reached over the edge as he dangled the blade in front of you. You almost had gotten it but instead lost your balance.

Thump.

“Told you, sweetheart.” And with that remark, Dean had left the building with the blade placed in his bag.

While on the floor, you try to convince yourself that he is useful and it would be best to not kill him yet but you believe the topic to be debatable.

Sam came over to help you off the floor. “Your brother is being a jerk again,” you said while brushing yourself off.

“Yeah, well, what else is new?” Sam holds out your bag.

You snatch the bag from his hand, “You are enjoying this because you think it’s better for him to pick on me instead of you.”

“What?” Sam said sarcastically. “That is so not true. I never find enjoyment when I let my pain in the ass older brother bully you just so he wouldn’t bully me,” he replies with a big grin on his face.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t be so sure,” you glare at him.

You both grabbed your coats and shut the door behind you.

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

You three had just come back from the coroner’s and discovered, thanks to some hex bags found in the victim's pockets, that your witch was very old and very powerful. You also found that she continued her hot streak of leaving attractive, middle-aged men’s innards boiled.

“Great,” Dean said as he shut Baby’s door. “What is it? Five dead now?”

Sam got in beside him, “Seven, actually.”

“Make that eight,” you said as you tossed your phone on the seat in front of you.

“What is this?” Sam asked, picking it up, examining the news story.

“It’s yet another kill where some attractive guy has his insides deep fried.”

“Great, again,” Dean said, starting the car. “Where was it at this time?”

“North Crow street,” Sam replied.

“That’s only what? Two miles from the last victim?”

“I’m pretty sure,” you said, thinking about the pattern of the attacks.

“We go back to the room, map out the attacks, get our gear, and we kill this son of a bitch.” You nodded.

“Agreed.”

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

“Okay,” Sam said as he marked the final spots on the map, “We have North Crow street on here twice. Then there’s this neighborhood right here where three of the victims were and over here is Goodman park where the remainder of the victims were killed at.” The map was spread out on a section of the wall above the sofa with a whole lot of red thread and pushpins covering whatever blank space remained.

“So that’s a two mile radius around,” Dean gets up taking the marker from Sam, “This street. Mary’s Ave.”

“Great, now that we’ve narrowed it down, to what? One-Hundred houses? What’s our next step?” You asked as you felt the weight of the deaths on your shoulders and it became even worse as you knew you weren’t the only one.

“I've got no freaking clue.” Dean let out a huff as he ran his hands through his hair in aggravation. Dean was getting more angry by the second and it didn’t help that he had been cooped up in a room with you and Sam. Sure, it was fun to mess with him but it tends to get old real quick. Dean threw up his hands, “It's not like we can just hit all the houses on the block knocking on the door and asking, ‘Hey, are you a witch? Cause if you are, we need to kill you.’”

Sam gives off a tired laugh. “We’ve been at this for a week and we have got nothing except a pile of bodies.”

You take in the sight of the tired brothers and know that it’d be best if you didn’t push them over the edge. “Hey,” you said with a calm voice, trying to get them to ease up, “We will find her and kill her. Okay?”

“How Y/N?!” Dean yells looking at you as if you were crazy to somehow have any sort of hope.

You sit down trying to make up any connection or pattern you can. You see the boys and their exhaustion and anger radiating off of them. You push yourself even harder to find something, anything. You think to yourself about all the information you have: A trail of good looking dead guys, a witch, messed up insides, and a hex bag. A hex bag which you have found nothing in the lore about. You have yet to figure out how this hex bag kills or much less hurts someone. What kind of hex bag doesn’t kill you but still leaves you dead. It leaves you dead... Leaves you dead... “Leaves you dead!” You mutter under your breath.

“What?” Asks Sam as he sees you jolt up grabbing the hex bag and his laptop, clicking away on the keyboard.

“Y/N, what are you doing with the hex bag?” Dean asks.

“Shush,” you demanded as you continued your search online.

“Don’t ‘shush’ me,” Dean replied silently.

You ignore the duo as you search deeper in the online lore. You search every ingredient in the hex bag. Instead of lethal hex bags, you search for non-lethal ones that use the same ingredients. “Okay, hear me out: What if the witch wasn’t trying to kill guys?”

“Sure, she accidentally melted the victim’s insides,” Dean says as he rolls his eyes.

“Shush!” You again told Dean trying to explain your train of thought. “We searched all over for a hex bag like this that kills someone, right?”

“Yeah,” Sam replies reluctantly.

“But what if the hex bag wasn’t meant to kill the men, but instead lure them to our witch.” You turn the screen around showing the list of ingredients for a spell that can lure anyone to the user. “See? This spell and the hex bags use the exact same ingredients.”

“I guess that’s useful information if we wanna make hex bags but how does this help us try to find the witch?” Dean again says with his annoying sarcasm.

You turn the computer around again and start typing away once more. “Well, sweetheart,” you look at Dean and show a sarcastic smile, “These ingredients are extremely rare and even more expensive.” Dean looks at you mad and you smile even bigger assuming that he doesn’t like being called “sweetheart” either. “Since the ingredients are so rare, when you search where they are found, you discover they are only found in a very small part of Ireland.” 

“Okay,” Sam says, trying to follow.

“Now, since the items are expensive, the witch must be rich. And when I search the most expensive houses on Mary’s Ave, I come up with fifteen different ones which all belong to an array of people.”

“Yeah,” Sam nods in agreement, still unsure of your thought process.

“The Fifteen names of the owners are: Smith, Jackson, Thompson, Brock, Jones, Marshall, James, Evans, other Smith, Parker, MacAulay, Watts, Cooper, Jefferson, and Holiday. Tell me, which one of those names sounds Irish to you?”

“MacAulay,” Dean says as the wheels in his head visibly turn.

“Right, and when I pull up the records for the house, you will find that one Alannah MacAulay lives in that house alone. And it just so happens that she paid upfront with cash.” You look at Sam and Dean and notice their shocked expressions. “That name is indeed Irish and is one of the founding families that basically built the town that grows these ingredients. Guys, I’d say this is our witch.”

“How in the world did you get all that from a hex bag?” Sam asks with an amazed look in his eyes. You shrug your shoulders trying to hold back a smile of accomplishment. “Good job, Y/N,” Sam says, giving you a pat on the back.

“Thanks.” You look again at Dean knowing that a compliment from him was as rare as a unicorn sighting, but in this job the latter would be more likely to happen.

Dean stands up and cocks his gun, “Let’s go kill a witch.”

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

You all had arrived at the house. You and Sam took the front door entrance as Dean went around back. Sam opened the door slowly as you went under his arm through the doorway scoping out the place. The door shut gently behind him. He signaled for you to go upstairs as he took the first floor. You nodded in agreement as you cautiously and quietly walked up the huge set of stairs that were before you.

The house was gigantic and magnificent. If you weren’t so worried about the status of your life, you might’ve actually enjoyed it a bit more. When you came to the top of the steps, you saw three doors ahead of you. Thinking it might be a while till one of the boys came upstairs to help you search, you went right ahead entering the rooms as stealthy as you could.

The first room didn’t have anything that looked witchy and the same went for the second. But just as you turned the knob on the third door, you heard a muffled sound. You pushed the door open finding a middle-aged man tied to a chair with a gag in his mouth. Only the man and a whole mess of stuff was in the room. You passed by what seemed to be a miniature cauldron filled with an assortment of goods or more accurately, bads, and soon made your way to the man. Holding your gun with such focus and intensity, you searched every square inch of the room just to make sure it was only you and him.

You went over to him, undoing the ropes and removing his gag. “Are you alright?” You asked quietly.

“I think,” he said with an uneasy tone. You signaled for him to get up and get a move on but he still remained glued to the seat.

“What are you doing?” You whispered worried that if you stayed any longer, you wouldn’t be alone.

“I can’t move!” He says with a terrified tone.

“What?” You look to see if you missed a rope.

“I can’t move!” You tried to pull him up or out of the chair but he wouldn’t budge.

Suddenly, you could feel another presence in the room. You slowly reached for your gun, switching your attention from the man to what you thought would be the witch.

You quickly aimed your gun as you turned around only to find the room as empty as you had seen before.

“Tell me, Girl” a voice echoed with a strong Irish accent, “Have you ever been in love?” You aimed your gun in every dark corner of the room trying to find a face to the voice. “Have you ever really been head-over-heels for someone?”

“Sorry, I can’t say that I have.” You continued the conversation stalling in hope of a rescue from one of the boys.

“Oh, It’s such a shame. Surely you must love someone or like someone at least?” She asks as if wanting you to understand.

“I don’t know about that but I appreciate your concern,” you laugh as this is the last conversation you’d expect to have.

The voice laughs back. “My, I can see that you do hold a torch for someone. You might try to hide it but I can see your feelings and they are strong.”

“I don’t know what you're talking about, lady. But how about you come out here and maybe then we can swap crushes.”

“Oh, no. I need to finish my work,” she says matter-of-factly.

“Your work? You mean killing innocent men? I have to say, not a fan.” Your gun gets pulled out from your hands. “Dammit,” you mumble. You stay moving around the room keeping your senses on guard.

“You simple minded fool. My work is work of passion and love, not death.”

“Whatever you say, Witchy.” You try to look for another sort of weapon in the room.

“I just wanted to be loved. It’s not my fault that accidents happen.”

“Well, I just want you dead and like you said, accidents happen.” In the corner of your eye, you see a dagger and you move closer to it trying not to draw attention to yourself.

The witch finally appears out from the dark corner she was hiding in. “If you wanted that to happen, maybe you shouldn’t have come alone,” she says looking you dead in the eyes like a lion would do to its prey.

The door quickly busts open causing the witch to change her attention. You rush towards the dagger and then try to find if a hex bag is on the man.

“She didn’t come alone,” Dean stands in the door and aims his gun directly at the witch but before he can pull the trigger, she flings him past the cauldron and only feet away from you and the man. She sees you and immediately, light radiates from her palms and you prepare to be on the end of a fatal blow. But suddenly, Sam comes from the door, tackling the witch to the ground.

Dean gets up and takes notice of a huge gnash on his hand and finds his blood on the rim miniature cauldron. But before he can think anything more of it, he searches for his gun. You still try to find what holds the man in the chair taking off his shoes, jacket, anything that could have a hex bag inside. Sam gets thrown to the other side of the room and you see now that the witch looks even more pissed than she originally was. “Just let me do my work!” She screams as you too get tossed to the side, leaving a wide-open space in between her and the man. “I will do my work! I will be loved!” She screams and starts to mumble Latin causing the cauldron to rise and spark. Dean sees what she is about to do and before you or Sam have a chance to react to the ready to fire spell, Dean jumps in front of the man and the surge of energy from the cauldron fires right at Dean. “No!” The Witch screams. Sam runs to his gun and shoots her right in the head causing her to fall to the floor.

With the witch killed, you and Sam rush to Dean who is surprisingly still alive from the impact of the blow. “Hey,” you ask him, examining him, “you alright, big guy?”

He mumbles in return, “Peachy.” You help him up as Sam checks on the man who is no longer glued to the chair. Sam gives you the nod that he is alright and both you and Sam walk out, each helping a man down the stairs.

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

Sam starts the car back up as you leave the hospital where you dropped the man off at. “You sure you alright, Dean?” You ask leaning over the seat taking notice of his face to try and get a read on him.

“I’m great,” he replies with his ever so sly smile.

“You sure?” Sam asks.

“Yeah. I’m good to go. In fact, I say we go get some beers because we deserve it.” You and Sam look at each other quizzically both thinking of how you’ve never encountered a witch blast that came with no side effects.

“You sure you’re good?” Sam asks again with an unsure tone.

“Dude, I’m fine. I just wanna get drunk. Can you blame me?” He looks at Sam and he shakes his head while letting out a tired laugh. “Come on, let’s go have some fun!” He looks at you and hits your shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Dean, I’m exhausted and I’m surprised that you aren’t. It’s gonna be a no from me,” Sam answers.

“Y/N, what do you say? Wanna get drunk and laid?”

“Um, you sure you’re okay Dean?” You ask again.

“Guys, what the hell is with all the questions?! I’m fine. Nothing is wrong with me. Now Y/N, you wanna join or not?” Dean looks into your eyes and you look at him still concerned.

“I guess so.”

“Perfect!”

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

You and Dean pull up to a bar called “O’Malley’s” looking dressed to kill or in this case, dressed to get laid. You always carried a little black dress with you whenever you went on hunts just in case you needed to use it to work a more flirtatious angle. And from time to time, you did. You both walked inside keeping your distance from each other just to make sure no one would think the two of you were together. You have been to this rodeo before. Every now and again when Dean was a little too eager to get out of the bunker or some crap motel room, you and him would always wind up going to the nearest bar to find a little fun. Sam would always be researching something or sleeping. Tonight, Sam was doing the latter.

You took a seat at the bar leaving an opening on both your sides and ordered a strong drink. Dean, following behind you, had immediately found someone he liked and took a seat right beside her. You could hear their laughter and imagine what cheesy pick up lines Dean would use on her this time. Even though it seemed like you couldn’t stand him at times, he's your best friend and you know him better than he does himself sometimes. Dean, Sam, and Cas were all that you had. It’s been like that for roughly five years. And all you could think about right now was just wanting to go home and lie in your bed. Well, thinking about that and the stupid witch. You glanced over at Dean again seeing him even closer to the girl than before. You ordered a refill and quickly gulped it down.

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

The stupid Witch. You couldn’t stop thinking about her. You recall what she said, you remember all the talk about love and how she swears that you love someone too. “No way,” you say under your breath. You look over your shoulder again to view Dean and his lady for tonight. You watch them get up and leave. You laugh to yourself and feel the drink getting to you as you order what you think is your fourth. “How could I love someone?” You think.

You don’t even like anyone. I mean, you love the boys but that’s completely different. Cas, he’s like your guardian angel and Sam, come on, he is literally your brother. And Dean? Dean. Well... Dean is Dean. 

You order another drink putting it down the hatch even faster than the last.

Dean is annoying. You couldn’t ever like him. He’s annoying and like totally over protective and he’s way too hot to not have an ego. He’s sexy and gorgeous and way out of your league. Sure you like him but that doesn’t mean you love him. He’s annoying and so bratty. Okay, so maybe you love him a little bit but it’s just because the witch put all these thoughts in your head. You have only been in love with him for like three years, that’s all. Not even four. You push these feelings deep down and always have, I mean, It isn’t like Dean Winchester is gonna wake up one day and be in love with you.

“Miss? Miss?!” The bartender asks you.

“What?” You snap at him.

“You’ve been talking to yourself for quite some time.” The bartender says with a polite smile.

“Nu-uh.”

“Yes, you have. I believe you're drunk and in love with whoever this Dean is.”

“Pft, no I’m not.” You try to point at the bartender but somehow manage to fall off the stool. One of the men a few seats over helped you up and guided you outside. 

You stumble down the steps of the entrance, “You don’t know what love is!” You yelled at the bar. “I wanna know what love is, and I want you to show me!” Your words slowly changed from an angry fit into lyrics from a Foreigner song. You pulled out your phone as you fell to the ground and managed to call Sam.

“Hello?” Sam said tiredly.

“Do you wanna know what love is, Sam? Cause I want you to show me!”

“Are you drunk, Y/N?”

“No!” you shouted, “I don’t like how people keep assuming things about me.”

“Y/N?” Sam said, trying to get a straight answer.

“Okay, so listen, I’m drunk and Dean took Baby to probably make a baby. So I need some assistance. Hey! I’m like one of the AARP people.” You laugh, amused by your own words.

“Where are you at?”

“I’m at a parking lot outside of uh,” you look up at the blurred sign, “Old Mufasa’s.”

“That’s not a place, Y/N.” Sam sighed.

“Well then I don’t know!”

“Your phone says you're five minutes away. I’ll be there in five minutes. Just stay put.” Sam hung up.

You could hear that Sam was tired and angry which was not a good combo but you were just worried that the ant that you saw climbing a rock in the parking lot would get run over. You went over and tested your depth perception seeing if you could get the ant to a safe spot. As you nudged the little bugger on your finger, you trudged over to a patch of dirt on the side of the building. You let him go and smiled, “At least you love me, Ant.” 

You moved back to where you and tripped causing you to face plant into the ground and drift off to sleep.

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

The next morning was... interesting. You had woken up to find Dean even more hungover than you, spread out on Sam’s bed and Sam on the way too small couch. All you remember from the night before was a whole lot of alcohol and Sam coming to get you, picking you up from the ground, placing you in a car, and finally onto your bed. You couldn’t rack your brain for any more information or you might end up with an aneurism. You figured that the best thing you could do for your massive headache and the boys was to go and get coffee. You left a note on the door and headed out.

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

In the room, Sam changed his clothes out in the open not minding because it was only him and a semi-unconscious Dean. The same Dean who was spread like a starfish with blankets and sheets wrapped around him. He tried to move but was unable either from the entanglement or extra motion that made him seem even more dizzy.

“Dean, you alright?” Sam asked as he pulled on his shirt and finished getting dressed.

“Hrmp,” Dean, sort of, replied. He moved a little on the bed seeming like even a construction crew couldn’t affect his state.

“Dude, I thought Y/N was bad last night. I think It’s safe to say you take the gold.” Sam laughed and hit Dean’s feet trying to get him to move.

“What?” Dean pulled his head away from the pillow and rubbed his eyes.

“Dean, you good? I know you wanted to celebrate but I think you went a little too hard on this one.” Sam tossed a bottle of aspirin on the bed beside Dean.

“I’m--I’m uh, good?” Dean sat up slowly trying to gain some sort of balance.

“Good. Cause we have a twelve hour drive back home to the bunker and since you refuse to let me or Y/N drive--”

“Y/N?!” Dean interrupts Sam and darts up from his bed.

“What?” Sam looks at a now wide awake Dean who is staring at him right in his face.

“Y/N,” Dean says with a very excited tone, “Is she here? Where is she? She’s okay right?” He asks as his joy starts to change to worry.

Sam looks at Dean very confused but replies, “Yeah, Y/N’s out getting coffee. You okay, Dean? You don’t look so hot.”

“I don’t?” Dean asks. He looks at his appearance almost disappointed in himself. Dean is still wearing his black-tee undershirt from last night and a pair of boxers.

“Dean, you are acting like someone gave five shots of five hour energy. What’s going on?”

“I...I...I just need to see her!.” Dean paces around the room starting to panic.

“Who, Dean?” Sam goes to Dean putting his hand on his shoulder trying to get him to calm down or at least relax for a moment.

“Y/N,” Sam looks at Dean like he’s crazy, “I’ve got to see her. I just gotta.”

“Okay, how about you sit down and we figure out what is wrong with you. Alright?”

“There’s no time, Sam!” Dean yells at Sam shoving his hand away. “I’ve got to get my suit on and I need some of your cologne and uh, flowers! I need to get flowers!”

“Dean! Something is really wrong with you. You are acting crazy and I don’t understand what your new obsession is with Y/N. So please, just take a deep breath.” Sam again tries to go over to Dean getting him to calm down.

“You’re right, Sammy. I need to calm down for Y/N. I don’t want her to be frightened or--or panicked like I am.” He unconvincingly smiles at Sam but nods along with his plan.

“Good,” Sam says slowly, “Good. Now take a deep breath.” Dean takes a huge deep breath in and holds it in his puffed out cheeks. He exhales and shakes his body trying to loosen up. “Okay, Dean, what’s going on?” Sam sits on the bed with Dean who still appears to be hopped up on some kind of energy drink.

“I don’t know. I just know that everything is so clear and like this huge burden has been lifted off of me.” Dean smiles crazily at Sam.

“Okay,” Sam tries to understand why his brother is acting like an energized maniac. “When did you feel like this, ‘burden,’ was lifted?” 

“It was this morning, when I woke up and you said her name.” Dean hops up and down nodding with his whole body.

“Right, uh, Y/N’s name?” Sam tries to stop Dean from moving so much by holding down his shoulders.

“It’s the most beautiful name in the world,” Dean says while he waves his arms trying to mime the whole wide world.

“Uh-uh. Listen, Dean. I’m gonna call Cas and we are gonna figure out what’s going on.” Dean nods his head and looks at his brother with a big smile, leaving Sam’s emotions a mix between scared, creeped out, and concerned.

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

You had just stood in line for almost an hour trying to get the coffees only to have them get your order wrong. You would’ve been more upset about it but you were just eager to get away from all the noise and bright lights that made your headache ten times worse.

You reached for your room key and inserted it into the door all while trying to balance the uneven amount of coffees. You opened the door and glanced over at the boys sitting on the edge of the bed. “Good, you guys are up.” Dean stood up so quickly that his movement caught your attention. You set the cups down on a nightstand and looked towards Sam and Dean. Sam stood up beside Dean with a worrisome look. And Dean looked at you with such glee and excitement that you turned around to see if there was someone behind you. “What’s going on?” You asked as the more you looked at them the more terrified you got.

“Um,” Sam mumbled and tried to find the words, “Dean’s uh...”

“What?” You ask as you become even more worried.

“Dean... he uh... something is wrong with him.” Sam kept looking at you and Dean. You all stand still, unmoving.

“Dean?” You ask and as you do so, Dean gulps as if you managed to take his breath away when calling his name. “Dean?” You ask again and this time, the biggest smile comes on Dean’s face like an excited puppy. “Dean, wh...what is it?”

“I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

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Hope you enjoyed it!

Tag list is open!

Chapter two: Take It Easy

[goofygomez]

Family - A TLOU fanfiction

Description:  Set seven years after the events of The Last of Us Part II, Ellie must confront her past in the most unlikely way.

Wordcount: 3584

A/N: Hey guys, just wanna say a HUGE WARNING that there are (obviously) spoilers for The Last of Us Part II in this fic, so read at your own discretion. Also this is my first time writing for this fandom so I hope I got it right. Comments, reblogs and likes are always appreciated, and enjoy!

Ellie hated Clickers.

Even twenty-seven years after living in this godforsaken world, one of the scariest things she could think of was a Clicker. Their bat-like senses alerting them of every slight movement, the rattling sound they gave off that told you trouble was brewing. It was enough to make her skin crawl. Over the years, she had developed systems to keep her cabin safe from infected or otherwise, but every now and then, a few stragglers would wander into her vicinity. Today was one of those days. She could hear the unmistakable clicking noise coming from somewhere within the forest.

She slung her backpack over her shoulder and stepped out of the back door into the wilderness. For seven years, this had been her home. Secluded in the middle of a dense, overgrown forest, it was the best location she could have chosen to be completely isolated from the world. Trails leading up to the cabin had been blocked or simply dissipated with time, so Ellie was the only person capable of traversing the woods around her easily.

The afternoon sun shone over her, the tops of trees cast odd shadows on the ground. Heaving a sigh, Ellie ventured into her usual route toward the traps, looking over her shoulder at the cabin. It was a small thing, big enough to house a bedroom and a semblance of a kitchen. She hunted most of her food, so there wasn’t much else she needed anyway.

A gentle breeze blew past her from her left, making her shiver. She pulled her jacket closer to her. Winter was rapidly approaching. Tommy, who was the only person from Jackson who even knew about her whereabouts – and even then, only by accident – would be passing through soon to provide her with canned goods she might need during hibernation season.

“Hope you bring some beans,” she mumbled to herself, longing a nice hot plate of them.

She followed the clicking noise to her right, weaving through large pine trees and walking straight into a small clearing, where the sun shone freely over the barren ground. In the middle of it hung three writhing bodies from ropes tied to the higher branches, their screeches and groans permeating the otherwise peaceful atmosphere of the forest.

It was two Runners, one of whom had seemingly given up the struggle, and a very angry Clicker. One of the Runners spotted her and tried to claw at her, yelling at the top of his lungs while his companion barely reacted. The Clicker had become oddly silent when Ellie came into the clearing, moving its head around in search of prey. Sighing, she walked over to the Runners and easily disposed of them with her switchblade.

When the second one hit the floor, the Clicker’s head turned rapidly in her direction and began drawing its rattling breath as it attempted to locate her. It emitted a high-pitched screech, which made Ellie have to cover her ears, and then lunged at her, missing her arm by inches. She walked around it slowly, making sure not to step on any dead leaves, and plunged her knife into the Clicker’s throat. It made a guttural sound as blood poured down Ellie’s arm and onto the ground.

“When will you guys go extinct?” she asked it, cleaning the blade on her jeans.

She looked around, straining her ears in case any more of them showed up. For a moment, it was all quiet. Birds chirped overhead and the leaves on the ground rustled gently with the autumn breeze. The next moment, a loud yelp coming from somewhere on her left startled her. She could hear the moaning of infected, maybe half a dozen of them, but one voice was definitely different than the rest. It was human.

Breaking into a sprint, she dodged and weaved through the trees, getting ever closer to the yelling. She came across a narrow path, one of the only ones that she hadn’t covered off. A figure was bounding its way down it toward her. It was a boy, panting and heaving breaths with wide eyes. He had a cut on his forehead and blood trickled down his face as he ran.

“Over here!” she called, waving her arms trying to get his attention. It worked. The boy’s head spun around and he spotted Ellie. Rather apprehensively, he looked over his shoulder, where Ellie could already see at least five Runners barreling toward them.

Shaking his head, the boy ran to Ellie and followed her through a different path, much thicker and less easily traversable. She looked wildly around her as they ran, searching for signs that would let her know where they were.

“They’re getting closer!” the boy said, panting heavily.

She saw it as soon as he said it. A large red cloth was wrapped around a very old, decrepit-looking tree. “This way,” she said, pulling him by the arm to the left of the tree and shoving him past a felled trunk beside it.

“In there.” She pointed to a large opening in the ground, just big enough to fit both of them. Again, he hesitated. “Hurry!” she hissed. The sounds of the infected were getting closer, their stomping footsteps like a ticking clock.

He obeyed and slid into the hole, followed closely by Ellie, who moved a large piece of bark over their heads. It was almost pitch black in the hole, where barely a single ray of sunshine penetrated, illuminating Ellie’s face. She pressed her finger to her lips, and the boy did the same, nodding. They kept quiet as the groans of the infected passed them by, their bodies tense as a particularly loud one stopped for a moment by the trunk. Eventually, the noise subsided.

“I think it’s safe,” she whispered, slowly removing the piece of bark and letting in the sun. “Yeah, come on.”

She helped the boy out of the hole and finally let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. To her left, the kid did the same, leaning against a tree as he massaged his side. He was short in stature, with shoulder-length messy black hair. His brown eyes studied her much like she did him. She had a creeping sensation he’d seen that look before, but couldn’t quite place it.

“Thanks, by the way,” he said, recovering.

“No problem,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “You should come with me; let me take a look at that cut before you head out.”

The boy pursed his lips and looked around. Everywhere they turned, foliage overwhelmed the space. She could see his apprehension, but he must have figured there wasn’t much choice, so he nodded.

“Okay, thanks,” he said.

Offering the boy a weak smile, she turned and began walking toward the cabin. She looked over her shoulder every now and then, checking the boy was following her. Despite keeping a respectable distance from her, he didn’t run away. Probably lost, she thought.

The sun was beginning to wane by the time they got back to the cabin, quickly replaced by gray clouds, the last tendrils of sunlight seeping through the half-open window. She opened the door for him and he slowly walked inside, never taking his eyes off her. The blood on his forehead had dried out, a thin line stretching all the way to his chin and part of his neck.

“Here, take a seat,” she said, pointing to a small makeshift chair that had taken her the better part of her first months there to make. It wasn’t much, but it was sturdy as hell.

He sat down, breathing deeply. Ellie rummaged through a box by her bedside table and took out a bandage and some alcohol. She was running low on the latter. Gotta ask Tommy for some if he can spare it, she reminded herself.

She dabbed the bandage with a few drops and rubbed it gently over the boy’s forehead. He flinched slight but otherwise kept still as she worked on the cut, taking deep breaths.

“What brings you by here?” she asked conversationally as she began wrapping the bandage around his head a few times.

“Just passing through,” he said warily. “I got lost and then those fuckers jumped me.”

“You were lucky you only got a cut on your head,” she said. “I took out a Clicker just before I found you.”

The boy shivered. “I hate Clickers.”

“Hear hear,” Ellie said with a chuckle. She looked out the window, where light rain had begun to fall. Droplets raced each other across the surface of the glass, replaced by fresh ones as the rain picked up. “You should crash here for the night, at least until the rain passes.”

“Really?” the boy said, apprehensive. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

“It’s okay,” she argued, waving a dismissive hand in the air. Despite what her survival instincts were telling her – namely that it’s a stupid idea to invite a stranger to stay the night – she couldn’t with a good conscience leave him to fend for himself in the rain.

“Thanks, I guess,” he said, suppressing a yawn.

“All done,” Ellie said tightening the bandage over his head. “That should hold until tomorrow. It’s not very deep, you might just live.”

“Gee, thanks,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“You’re very welcome,” she told him, bowing her head slightly with a smile. “Now c’mere, you can sleep in my bed.”

“Where will you sleep?” he said as she heralded him to the bed, which was really just a few planks tied together with a rather skimpy comforter and a blanket for good measure. Needless to say, winter was Ellie’s least favorite season, for more reasons than one.

“I’m not tired, don’t worry about me,” she assured him. The boy nodded his bandaged head and lay down on the bed, testing its springiness, or lack of it. “Sorry about that, I know it’s not a 5-star hotel.”

“It’s fine,” he said, offering her a rather genuine smile. “I’m not really tired either.”

But as he said that, he lay back down on Ellie’s questionable pillow and promptly closed his eyes. Barely a few minutes later, he was already snoring. She made her way back to the chair and slumped back, sighing heavily.

As the kid gently snored, Ellie picked up a book that sat on the table. She had scavenged it from some Runner’s backpack a few months ago, and she hadn’t been able to put it down since. It was about a treehouse that took these two kids on all sorts of adventures. Unfortunately, it appeared it was part of a larger series, and she had been unable to procure more than the two she’d found in that backpack. Talk about cliffhangers…

“Now I’ll never know,” she said to herself in an undertone as she flipped through the final pages.

Her eyes were getting heavy, and the sound of the rain pitter-pattering against the walls and roof was making her sleepy. She made a conscious effort to stay awake, but her exhaustion won over in the end. Right where she sat, she was plunged into a deep sleep. For a moment, it seemed quiet. Then, the inevitable happened.

Another nightmare. She was used to them by now. It was odd, though. They had been getting better and were occurring less frequently lately.

She was standing in knee-deep snow, facing the backside of a large wood mansion. The sliding glass door was ajar, its surface cracked and frosty from the cold. A warm glow came from a window on the second floor, probably from a candle. Slowly, she walked toward the door.

She opened it the rest of the way and stepped inside, grateful for the warmth that kept the biting cold from the blizzard outside at bay. She couldn’t quite place where that warmth was coming from. It seemed to emanate from the room itself. Before she could develop this theory further, she heard a scream.

Her nightmares usually went this way. Calm and beautiful until his screams pierced her ears and the mounting dread that came with them. This time, however, something didn’t sit right with her. They weren’t a man’s screams. They were a woman’s.

Frowning, Ellie rushed down rickety wooden stairs that led to a magnificent kitchen, lined with age-old appliances that must have been quite impressive back in the old world. She turned to the right and stared down the staircase that led to a white, wooden door. Beyond that door, she could hear the woman’s piercing screams, like she was being beaten and could no longer take the pain.

Apprehensively, she began the descent as the screams got louder. She picked up the pace. The stairs seemed to go on forever, the door always too far away to reach. Then she heard the woman’s voice, more clearly than before, utter one word amidst the incessant screaming.

“ELLIE!” she yelled, and Ellie knew that voice. It couldn’t be…

She ran faster, taking the steps three at a time, panting heavily by the time she got to the door. She turned the handle and burst inside, where a faceless person had pinned the woman to the ground and had their hands around her throat. Ellie looked down and her eyes went wide, panic coursing through her veins.

“Dina!” she shrieked, rushing forward and tackling the person, whose features were blurred, either because of the dream or Ellie’s tears, she couldn’t tell. She punched the faceless being once, twice, thrice. Her knuckles were bloody and sore, but she couldn’t stop. Blind rage filled her every bone as she lay into their face, now a mess of blood that covered the floor around her.

“Ellie…” she heard Dina croak out from somewhere to her right. Suddenly, the person beneath her had vanished, their only remains the blood that stuck to Ellie’s hands. “Ellie, please…”

“I’m here, I’m here,” Ellie panted, desperately crawling to Dina’s side. “Dina, it’s me.”

“Ellie,” Dina repeated, her eyes looking straight through Ellie as if she were not there. She was clutching her side, and Ellie could see why. A large gash extended across Dina’s abdomen, staining her orange blouse a deep crimson.

“No no no no,” Ellie stammered, pressing down on the wound with both hands, bloodying them even further, but to no avail. The blood kept flowing, and Dina’s face looked paler by the second. “Dina, no. You can’t die.”

“Take…” Dina breathed, shivering wildly. “Take care of…”

“Of who?” Ellie pleaded, fresh tears welling in her eyes, falling freely over Dina’s now unmoving body. “Dina? Dina!”

There was no answer. Dina’s eyes were wide open, the spark that Ellie had always loved in them gone. The smile etched on her face almost mocking her.

“Dina, c’mon,” she begged, shaking the woman softly. “Don’t do this to me, babe. Don’t do this to me…”

She sat there in the cold, damp room, clutching Dina’s body, weeping through closed eyes for a long time. It could have been minutes, or hours, or entire seasons, but all she wanted was to be there, with her. As she sobbed, her breathing became ragged and hitched. She tried opening her eyes but as she did, the image of Dina’s body dissolved, and Ellie was thrust back into pitch darkness.

Ellie woke up with a start, almost falling backwards from her chair. Feeble rays of morning sun shone through the window and onto her face, making the mixture of tears and sweat that clung to her face shimmer. She clutched her chest, attempting unsuccessfully to qualm her heart rate.

It was just a dream, nothing more, she told herself. But it had felt so real. She could still feel the fabric from Dina’s bloody blouse in her hands, as though its ghost remained in her grip. Shaking, she clutched the side of the table and pushed herself up. Her legs almost gave way as she took one step, but stopped in her tracks when she heard a voice.

“You mumble in your sleep,” the boy said from her left. Jumping, she turned to see him sitting on her bed, cross-legged and fiddling with his thumbs, as if expectant.

“God, you almost gave me a heart attack,” she said. “How long have you been up?”

“About ten minutes,” he replied, shrugging. “You were talking pretty loudly.”

Rubbing her eyes, she groaned. “Sorry about that,” she said.

They stood in silence for a few moments while Ellie opened a can of peaches. She offered some to the boy, who gladly accepted it, munching on it as if he hadn’t eaten for days. Knowing these woods, maybe he hadn’t.

“You want a glass of water?” she asked, grabbing two metal cups.

“Sure,” he said eagerly.

“So,” she said as she turned to him and stretched her hand, “you haven’t told me your name yet.”

“Oh, it’s Jesse,” the boy said nonchalantly, taking the cup from her hand. “Everyone calls me J.J. though.”

It was as though time had frozen still, and the muscles in Ellie’s body had turned to lead. Her ears were inexplicably ringing and her mouth hung half-open. She blinked a few times. Her grip on the cup slackened and the metal container slipped onto the ground and splashed water all over her sneakers. She barely registered this as she kept staring at J.J.

“Uh, you okay?” J.J. asked timidly. She noticed the way he held his hands together, his right clutching the ring and pinky finger of the left.

She shook her head and opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She did it again and only a feeble, “yeah,” came out.

“Do I… do I know you?” the boy asked, raising an eyebrow.

What a loaded question, Ellie thought bitterly. Did he know her? After all, seven years was a long time, but then again, did his mom not have any pictures of her? Had she never told J.J. about her? A surge of emotions she couldn’t even comprehend rushed through her system until she landed back on earth and blinked once more.

“No, I don’t think so,” she said, “but I know you.”

J.J. stood up. “What do you mean?”

“What are you doing here?” Ellie asked. “Shouldn’t you be with Dina?”

The boy took a step backwards, frowning. “How do you know my mom’s name?”

That question broke Ellie’s heart; not because the boy didn’t recognize her, but because Dina had clearly never mentioned her. You did break her heart though, a little voice in her head said snidely. Why would she tell her son about the woman that abandoned them?

“I… knew her a long time ago,” she settled for, sighing. “I used to live in Jackson. Back before you were born.”

“Oh,” he said simply, almost anti-climactic. “She never told me about you. What’s your name?”

Did it even matter at this point? She wanted to desperately to jump out at him and embrace him, but that would have been weird. What was he even doing this far away from Jackson anyway? The hopeful voice in her wished he had been out there looking for her.

“Name’s Ellie,” she said simply.

“I’ve heard that name before,” J.J. said, igniting that spark in her once more. “Sometimes, my mom –”

His train of thought was cut off by a voice yelling just outside the cabin. Ellie instinctively reached for her knife in her right pocket. A shadow passed one of the windows, slowly moving toward the front of the cabin.

“Stay away from the windows,” she urged the boy. J.J. did as he was told, standing behind her. “Were you followed here?”

“I don’t think so,” he whispered. “I didn’t tell anyone I was leaving.”

“Maybe that’s the problem.”

The voice, unmistakably a woman’s, spoke again. For a moment, Ellie didn’t want to believe her ears. She definitely knew that voice. She hadn’t really heard it in seven years, but the sweet timbre of Dina’s voice still sent shivers down her spine.

“Jesse!” said Dina, desperation clearly etched in her voice. “J.J., are you here?”

Silence fell after her words, the only sound the chirping of birds in the forest. Ellie’s hands shook so hard she almost dropped the knife. Was she scared? Worried? Even she couldn’t tell. Dina’s footsteps echoed ominously on the cabin’s porch; almost eerie.

One knock. Two knocks. Three knocks. Ellie’s heart was thumping harder than ever as she reached for the doorknob with her left hand. Her missing fingers itched… somehow. Taking a deep breath, she turned it and slowly opened the door.

Dina stood on the front door, holding a revolver in her hands, cocked and ready to fire, aimed straight at Ellie. Her black hair was pulled back in a ponytail, just how she’d always loved it. Thin crow’s feet lined her eyes, which she probably found horrible, but Ellie thought she had never looked more beautiful. Her gorgeous brown eyes, so unlike the glassy ones she’d stared into in her dream, were staring back at her.

Ellie tried blinking the tears away, but they just got replaced by fresh ones.

“Dina?” she managed to croak out, shivering despite the sun hitting her square in the face.

Dina’s face was inscrutable for a moment. It was almost as though she couldn’t believe her eyes. her mouth opened and closed like she couldn’t decide what to say. She swallowed hard.

“Ellie?”

[callmeunstable]

Angels & Demons - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Characters: Reader, Godling, Healer

Summary: She finds herself in the middle of a unknown forest after falling asleep. It seems like a normal forest until she gets to meet a mystical creature that welcomes her in a different world.

Warnings: Monsters, Cursing, Blood

Words: 2.000+

A/N: Hey! This is the second part of my The Witcher Fic. I accidentally deleted this part so I had to reupload ot. Yes I cried, but thankfully I still had the draft saved on my laptop.

Disclaimer: GIF’s and PNG’s are taken from Tumblr and are not mine! Credits to the creators!

Tags: @marvelbrat @charliestuff

Song: I couldn’t find the original one sooo

Absently, Alva wondered if most of the monsters were meant to be as beautiful and kind as James, or if this one was an exception to the rule, her mind struggled to hold on to one thought, with a whole new world opening in front of her.

“I know the healer of the village on the other side of the forest. She’s nice. She brings fruits to me from time to time. She will help you.” James hopped in front of her leading the way out of the woods.

She couldn’t believe anything her eyes captured. There are bad creatures. According to the Godling, there are a lot of them. The boy explained to her, that “Drowners” inhabit both natural and artificial bodies of water, from rivers and lakes to mill ponds and city sewers. It is commonly thought that these creatures are drowned men, somehow arisen from the dead to prey on the living. This opinion is as widespread as it is false, for the beasts are another post-Conjunction relict.

She couldn’t believe that this Godling just was a boy but knowing such crucial things about this life. She remembered James talking about the powers he has, that’s how he was able to save her.

“Hey, play some more of your music, please? I love the sound of it and we have to walk some time.” The Godling begged and gave his best puppy face.

She grabbed her phone and she had an idea. Maybe she was able to call or text her dad? Letting him know she’s okay. She wasn’t sure if this was the best idea she ever had, but still better than making him believe she was dead.

No signal. Of course.

“Music, please.”

She pressed the icons on her phone monotonously and a random song started playing.

 “Oh dear, oh dear, I’m sorry

That you grew up so soon

A cold year and no high school parties

I’ve been drinking alone

Oh, I’ve been drinking alone”

 “A blessing to my ears. What's the name of this bard?” The Godling started dancing along while walking in front of the girl.

“What is a bard?” These questions came automatically out of her mouth, wanting to know everything about this world.

Knowledge is power. Even in a world like this. If she knows what she has to be careful about, she can start to protect herself.

“You know the man and women writing songs and these lovely texts of legends, stories of their personal experiences, or their imaginations. I don’t care what they are about. I care about the melodies. I love the tunes.” James seemed to drift off in a state where he was admiring the artists and musicians at this time the whole way out of the woods.

He specifically talked about a Bard called Priscilla. A young woman famous for her poetry.

 “So, don't fear, don’t fear their warnings

They’re bitterer than most

4 years of driving across the country

For empty seats at their shows

And they’ve been drinking alone.”

 Less and fewer trees came along their way and after some more minutes, a village became visible. Still far away but the girl decided to turn off the music which was rewarded with an angry look of the Godling.

“Her cottage isn’t in the village. It's right here!”

He took a sharp turn between some trees and as told, a small cabin was revealed in front of them. It was old. Looked like a typical middle-aged, self-made cottage. Random kinds of stones were piled upon each other, connected by something that seemed to be a kind of cement. A small chimney was built on top and was busy blowing smoke out of it.

“Savilla! I want to show you, my new friend.” The boy shouted and Alva begged it was quiet enough so no one around could hear them. She wasn’t ready to meet anyone in this world, at least for now.

The old wooden door of the cottage opened and a middle-aged woman stepped out of the house. She was beautiful. Her Long black hair was braided down to the small waist of hers. Her long dress was colored with a dark wood green tone. A small V-neck covered her chest mostly and the butterfly sleeves made her look like a princess. A less fancy princess but a gorgeous one.

“Hello, my lovely James. How can I help you today?” Savilla had a warm smile on her face and holding her arms out for e hug.

The Godling happily jumped into her arms, to just leave them a couple of seconds later to point hysterically at Alva.

“This is my friend Alva. She got lost in my forest and a Drowner hit her. I think shes not from hear so she needs your help.”

Savilla laid her eyes on the small girl for the first time. Silently analyzing every single part of her. At this moment Alva realized that she was a unicorn in this world. Her clothes looked completely different from Safillas and James’. She was wearing a red lumberjacket that revealed her sports bra. Some pair of sporty leggings rested on her legs and short sneakers tied on her feet. Her favorite outfit for hiking. At least her fake leather bag seemed to fit the surroundings.

It wasn’t hard to tell that if the person in front of her wasn’t a cosplayer of Lord of the Rings, she had to be stuck in some kind of middle age century.

“Yes, she's not from here. I can tell.” The firm look of the women changed into a friendly smile. “Come in, I think it’s the best if no one sees you like this.”

Both Alva and James entered the cabin. Inside it was beautiful. Flower and herbs were growing every in countless pottery. An out of stone made kitchen area filled the rest of the room with a cozy fireplace at the opposite wall. Different kinds of fabric and papers stuck to the wall. It was filled with colors and smells that made you feel instantly relaxed, at least if you’re a person like Alva.

“You don’t seem to be in a lot of pain.”, stated Safilla while grabbing a wooden chair and placing it in front of her, guiding her to sit down.

“It’s pretty numb right now. It was worse about an hour ago.” Alva tried to give off a normal impression. But what is normal in this world.

er “That what I was inferred already. You seem to be in shock. Your body numbed itself to protect you from the pain.” While investigating the big scratch she explaining typical injuries caused by Drowners.

“You’re lucky that you had James by your side. He’s a loyal soul.” The healer tossed an apple to the boy who caught it happily.

Savilla mixed some unfamiliar herbs and bandaged it up with a clean cloth.

“It should heal fast, it's not a deep cut. You are lucky.”

The women put everything back in place and then grabbed a stool herself.

“Where are you from?”, she asked.

Where was she from actually? Maybe similar countries still exist?

“Originally my family comes from Sweden but I live in the USA at the moment.” The girl explained but ended up not receiving the reaction she wanted.

“I never heard of a place like that. I traveled a lot through Cintra, Temeria, and Lyria. How did you end up here?”

The girl got quiet. She didn’t want to cause any trouble. She was a stranger to this world. How much corruption was she able to cause?

Alva felt a hand on her shoulder. Savilla gently pat her and gave her a motherly smile.

“Look dear, I’m not here to hurt you. I can see you disturbed, even traumatized. You have no idea how you got access to this world, have you?”

The girl started to tear up and found herself in a warm hug of the healer. She couldn’t help herself but at this moment everything that was built up throughout the day suddenly burst out of her.

Every breath felt like acid burning heart throat, inflaming her lungs. Her heart felt like somebody was squeezing out every single emotion trapped in there. Like a sharp blade that is cutting straight through her chest.

“Mark my words, one day will come when you finally realize that fate is inevitable. One day you will get passed all this pain and realize it was a lesson learned for a better future, for a better you. You believe that this was an accident. But in our world, everything happens for a reason.” Savilla didn’t break the contact because she knew that this girl needed it. This wasn’t the first time something like this happened. The same happened decades ago. When the monsters first got into this dimension.

“I can teach you if you let me.”

Alva lifted her head and looked at the healer.

“I can teach you how to survive in this world until we figure it a way how to get you back. You just need to let me help you.”

“How do you know?” The girl was confused, more confused than she was, to begin with. How much does this woman know?

“This is not the first time a portal opened on accident. What we need to figure out is, if this indeed was an accident or if you have a mission you have to fulfill. I will help you. That’s my duty. Let me explain. I’m a mage.”

Savilla explained to Alva that mages are basically what she knows as a witch. Only rare individuals have the potential to become mages and many of those with this potential are doomed to madness. Unless the individual in question - known as a source - learns to control their power quickly, he or she may end up a half-insane, slobbering oracle. That is why schools of sorcery were created, where talented children study for many years, acquiring knowledge and mastering magical skills. Because of their powers, mages age more slowly than ordinary people. Savilla herself attended a school called Aretuza. But she didn’t believe in their morals so she left and lives on her own.

Mages can extract magical energy from the four elements, transport themselves long distances and heal, as well as kill, in the blink of an eye. They have extensive scientific and political knowledge; in the latter respect, many mages are the equals of rulers.

A witch that is connected so some kind of rule book.

“Know you know about me, but for now we need to get you out of your clothes. They reveal your true identity. There are people out there who will view you as dangerous and they’ll get scared. We need to give you a new persona. But for now, let’s start easy. No one will look for you because James took care of that. New clothes will at least give you the appearance of our dimension.”

Savilla walked in a different room and you could her searching sounds. Fabrics got thrown around after her steps came closer again.

As she walked into the room she showed off a dress similar to hers. The dress was white and it had some floral symbols embroidered in the fabric. Her sleeves were also long and wide, almost touching the ground. The White of the dress was mostly protected by a moss green light coat that had a corset on the front. The white dress was strapless but unseen due to the green coat. On top of that Savilla brought her some flat sandals.

“I can give you some pants to wear underneath the dress if you’d like. Is more efficient when you have to move quickly.” The mage was happy she could assist that young girl. She finally had a purpose to assist to.

Alva only nodded along, speechless by the kindness the woman was offering her.

Savilla walked up to her with a hairbrush and put her hair into different styles. “And maybe we can do something with your hair, putting it up or braid-“, she hesitated the moment when she was putting her hair up. “I think it looks fitting already.”

Quickly brushing Alva's hair down again.

[lowkeyaesthvtic]

Evil Karma - Chapter 13

Chapter 1 - Chapter 12

Word Count: 2,944

Summary: The Lost Revenge Crew finally has Ben in the palm of their hands. Sofi knows exactly what to do to make him snap and fall even further into their trap.

Pairings: Harry x OC, mentions of Ben x Mal, possible Ben x Evie, Uma x OC

Rating: T for minor language, mentions of gore, and quite a bit of violence

Warnings: Minor language, mentions of descriptive gore and dead bodies, violence (both including and excluding weapons), and Ben is kinda in a hostage situation so there’s that?

Tags: @newtshairdryer @descendantofthesparrow @hookedradge @haden-oftheisle @batmanwearsabowtie

Author’s Note: Not gonna lie this might be my favorite chapter I’ve written so far. Also, I’m really sorry for the inactivity. School is kind of being a pain in the butt right now.

The walk back to the Chip Shoppe was relatively uneventful and silent. Harry was laser focused on getting back to Uma and making sure Mal held up her end of the bargain. I was laser focused on getting down to the ship’s lower deck and making sure I could do everything in my power to tear the royal beast apart. I had been so previously fixated on carrying out every small step of this plan that I had little time to focus on how it was affecting me emotionally. But, as Harry and I arrived at where we would take our separate paths, I realized that all I was seeing was red at the mere thought of Ben’s name. I could easily go in there and slash him up until his stringy intestines were burst out of his chest for me to use as jump rope. There were many fibres of my being that wandered into a euphoric haze at the idea, but my daydream was broken when Harry took my face into his hands and looked directly into me. While my mind’s eye saw red, my real eyes could see nothing but the wide sea of blue and the warm air of Harry’s eyes. “Are you ready for this, duckling? You know what to do?” He asked, grounding me in what my limits were. As much as it upset me to admit it, Ben had to come out of this alive. But it didn’t mean I wouldn’t make him wish he were dead.

“Yeah. You’ll keep an eye on Mal when she comes in?” My mind raced to Uma when I responded. We knew Mal would come to the restaurant no matter what. Whether her and Ben were on good terms or not, it’d be idiotic and a sociopolitical suicide for her to leave Ben to be tortured by a bunch of ‘wharfy pirates.’ What we weren’t certain of was whether or not she’d try to pull something. “I don’t even want to think about Uma getting hurt…” I started to speak when Harry gripped my hands tight, a tiny laugh peaking through the cracks of his rarely seen sweet smile.

“Sofi...Uma’s our Captain for a reason. Even if Mal had the balls to pull something, which she doesn’t, Uma would be able to handle her pretty quickly. Not to mention that Gil and I will be watching them the whole time. You need to take a breath and focus on the goal, here. Can you do that for me, duckling?” After a moment's hesitation, I took in a slow breath and nodded. Harry lightly kissed my head as he pulled me in for a quick embrace. “That’s my girl. Now go get us our magic, will you?” He said as he let me go and walked away.

The lower deck of the ship was definitely fit for Ben. It stood nearly bare with only me, him, the chair he was tied to and the millions of cobweb strings hung high and low across the musty room. Tiny drops of water would occasionally drip onto the creaky wood floors, adding a bit of sound to the otherwise dead silent room I walked into. Ben’s head hung low, not wanting to look me in the eye. Too bad he didn’t have a choice. Unconscious or not, he was going to be a part of this game. He had to be. I knelt down in front of him and swiftly swiped my hand across his pale cheek, sending a loud slap through the air and jolting him up. “Rise and shine, your Majesty! Nap time’s over.”

Ben looked around frantically and began to chaotically struggle at his restraints. “Where am I? What is this! You better get me out of here or I swear I’ll -”

I had trouble holding back a laugh. Clearly Ben had never been held captive before. “You’ll what? I’m already stuck in this shithole your father built. Besides, you clearly have no idea how to get out of those ropes. Not that anybody would, Gil’s gotta be the best guy with ropes on the entire Isle. So tell me, King Ben...what are you gonna do?” I smiled and confidently cocked my head to the side. Ben speedily eyed me up and down, scanning me to see if he recognized me. It took him only a few seconds of this scanning to realize that we had seen each other before.

“You...we saw each other on the street. You could have killed me.”

“But I didn’t. You’ll find out why soon, don’t worry. I could kill you now, too. But...I’m not gonna.” I replied simply as I took my dagger out of my pocket and fiddled around with the handle. His eyes widened slightly as he looked down at the blade. I smirked and pointed the tip of the blade down toward his crotch. “Relax, as long as you do what I tell you, you’ll get out completely unharmed. And I promise you, your Majesty, I don’t ask for much.”

I stood up and began to wander around the room, taking in the smell that really started to peak through once it combined with the King’s fearful sweat. “I’m going to ask you some questions. All but one will have a simple yes or no answer, but we’ll get to that one question at the end. The rules of this little game are simple, you’re going to answer each and every question with complete honesty. If you try to ask me questions, dodge your questions or even think about lying, I will know. And you’ll get a nasty cut from this little friend of mine here.” I lightly waved my dagger in his eyes like a carrot to a rabbit. “Not anything deep enough to kill you. But definitely deep enough to hurt. But as long as you follow the rules, you won’t even have to worry about it! Are we clear?” My face went from playful to a dark glare as I stood awaiting his answer.

“Why are you doing this? Do you think that tying me up and interrogating me like this is really going to get you off the Isle?” I groaned and rolled my eyes before making a quick slash up the side of his left arm. He gritted his teeth, attempting to hold back the immense amount of pain that just shot through his body.

“What did I just say? You don’t get to ask questions, Beastie Boy. All I’m asking for is your complete honesty, is that really so hard? Especially after all the shit your family has put me through?” Ben opened his mouth to speak, but was quickly silenced when he noticed the tip of my dagger edging ever so closely to his other arm. He shut off his words and quickly shook his head, finally abiding by my commands. “Good boy. Now, firstly, your father made the decision 20 years ago to bring back every single villain that had been killed...only to imprison them on an island with no magic and no way out. Yes or no?” Ben leaned back, confused at the simplicity of the question. He nods his head swiftly, allowing me to continue.

“Alright, good. Next question. A couple months back, you decided to give some of the kids born on said island a chance for redemption. So you brought to Auradon who you thought were the baddest of the bad. Son of Jafar, son of Cruella De Vil, daughter of the Evil Queen….and of course, daughter of Maleficent. Yes or no?” There was a pause in his response. A shred of hesitancy. I wasn’t going to tolerate hesitancy. I lunged my dagger into his right leg, causing an extremely pained yelp to cry out from the King. “Yes...or no?”

“Yes, yes I brought those kids to Auradon...but I didn’t think they were the baddest of the bad. I had seen one of them before and...I wanted to meet them, but I knew that one wouldn’t come without the others.” I leaned back in a bit of shock. How could he have already known about the core four if this was his first time on the Isle? “Evie...I saw her in a dream. I wanted nothing more than to meet her, to see if she were real. But I knew she wouldn’t come if I didn’t bring the rest of her friends with her.” A devilish smile crept across my face. Evie had found some way to sneak into Ben’s mind and plant the seed that lead to her and her friends escaping the Isle.

“So...even though Evie was the one you wanted to meet, Mal was the one you ended up falling in love with once these Core Four came to Auradon. Then again, I guess you didn’t fall in love with Mal naturally. She spelled you, then somewhere along the way, with her magic mixed in, she caught your eye. Yes?” With a hint of regret, he nodded his head. There was a part of him that still felt that desire to know Evie. I could definitely use that to my advantage..later. “So, given that you fell for Mal, even after the love spell wore off...she probably tells you everything. Yes or no?”

“Yes. Especially after I became King. Her and her friends came to me with a whole bunch of information about the Isle. Like she told me about-”

“Slow your roll, Beastie Boy. I decide what info you share, here. Next order of business, Mal and her friends were the ones who informed you about the corruption behind Peter Pan. Yes or no?” With a hint of reluctance, Ben nodded his head. Hopefully now he’s starting to get a hint of the kind of information I’m in need of. If not now, he would get it really soon. “So when Mal and her friends told you who Peter Pan really was, you sent her, her friends, and your strongest Auradon guards to Neverland to capture Pan and bring him to the Isle of the Lost where you felt he belonged. Yes or no?” After another swift nod, I leaned in close to the captured King. “Alright, Benny Boy. This last question’s a little different. This ain’t a yes or no kind of question, but I still need one hundred percent honesty. You think you can do that for me?” Absolute silence. Then, a slow, fearful nod. “I want you to give me the same order you gave Mal, and her friends, and those Auradon guards. The exact same order. Word for goddamn word.” I removed my dagger from his right leg and placed it against his throat. I knew for sure that I wouldn’t slice him up. But he didn’t. I had to make sure he was scared enough to give me the information I needed.

“I told them to go to Neverland, find Peter Pan, capture him and bring him to the Isle of the Lost by any means necessary.” Of course. Of course it’d be those four little words that would drive Mal and her friends and those guards over the edge. As I saw all those bloodied, gory bodies laying across the beach, staining the sand’s white pigment and leaking into the ocean, I wondered what could possibly drive someone to do something like this to a bunch of innocent boys? Now, I know. I cleaned Ben’s blood off my blade with my shirt and placed my dagger back in its sheath. I stood and couldn’t help but to slowly pace around the room silently. At first, I thought it was all Mal’s fault for telling Ben and being the one to dig the swords into their skin. It still is...but now I realize that they might have been a bit more merciful had Ben not used those four little words.

“By any means necessary, huh? Yep, there’s the ticket. You know, as a fellow leader...I should probably give you a valuable piece of advice.” I slowly leaned closer to his face before letting my fist collide with his right cheek. “Be careful what you say when you’re giving orders. Otherwise, your own words could kill hundreds!” My blaring voice rang through the musty room as I fought back the urge to continue decking him over and over again. His face showed a blatant and pained confusion.

“Fellow leader? What the hell are you talking about? Isn’t Uma the Captain?”

“You seriously haven’t gotten it through your head by now? Whatever. Who I used to be doesn’t matter. What matters is what you did. Those four little words that you threw around like they were nothing? Those words killed hundreds of innocent boys. All because you and your stupid kingdom wanted to lock up some bastard who you weren’t even gonna find anyways!”

“Okay, is this about Neverland? Because Mal told me that all of the Lost Boys were taken care of.”

“That means MURDERED, idiot! Your girlfriend and her friends went to Neverland looking to lock up my father, which they never would have been able to do anyway, and saw my Lost Boys as some kind of obstacle they had to slaughter their way past. All because of your orders.” A short growl involuntarily came from the King’s mouth. It was finally starting to work. “Do you hear that, Ben? That’s your own guilt coming to eat you alive. Do you think it’d get worse if I told you that no matter what your girlfriend did, the only place she would’ve found my father is rotting away deep in the ocean? Peter Pan’s been dead for years. We had quite the utopia going on Neverland before your army ruined it. Every boy felt loved, wanted, special. We didn’t have a whole constitution of rules tying us down. And you….you took that away!” Tiny, dark brown hairs started to grow from Ben’s face as yet another roar flowed through the room.

“What are you doing to me?” He asked worryingly, his voice starting to morph into something more animalistic.

“I’m not doing anything. Correct me if I’m wrong, Your Majesty, but you and your father shift into Beast form when in pain, yes?” Nothing but a gruffy huff in response. I can only assume that means I’m right. “One thing I’ve learned from living with hundreds of teenage boys? There is nothing more painful to a teenage boy than his own guilt consuming him.” As more of his beastly hairs continued to grow longer and thicker, I grabbed the tiny glass vial from my pocket and popped open the cork. As I quickly plucked the hairs needed for the elixir, I relished in every pained yelp he gave and smiled when his beastly roar turned into a cry of regret.

“If it makes you feel any better,” I darkly spoke as I put the cork back onto the vial, watching the beastly hairs inside turn into a cluster of gold sparkles. “Your painful guilt is about to make a lot of wharfy pirates very...very happy. Ciao.” I gave a small, playful wave before walking out of the room and to the upper deck of the ship. There, close to the mast, was Uma. Similar to when we had our first close connection, she sat looking straight out to the ocean. But this time, there was a different sort of air around her. She was waiting for something, but not very patiently. Her angelic sea smile spread across her face when she turned to see me walking towards her.

“How did it go? I heard screaming.” She asked as she softly moved closer to me.

“We’ve got everything we need. Now we just wait for the Doctor to come back with everything else. As for the screaming, let’s say that Beast is a lot easier than we thought he’d be.” I tried to keep my mind focused on the plan, how close it was to being completed and how perfectly it had been going so far. But, what I found out about my boys remained on my mind. Uma knew that too. She took my hand into hers and began smoothing over my skin with her thumb.

“I heard screaming from you too. Are you okay?” I leaned her head onto my shoulder and let go of her hand as I began to run my fingers through her braids.

“Honestly, it hurt a little bit thinking about that day again. I’ve been so busy with this plan and getting settled in the Isle that I’ve never really had the time to let it sink in. I haven’t really talked about it with anybody.”

“You can talk about it now, if you want. I’m usually not the best listener, but I can try.” That little bit of bite in the tone of her voice brought a smile to my face, just as it always has since the day I met her. I brushed off the topic and planted a soft kiss on the top of her head.

“I appreciate that. But the best thing we can do right now is make sure this plan stays in motion. Will Mal be at the ship tomorrow?” I asked, shifting the topic away from any kind of emotional struggle.

“No doubt about it. Knowing her, she’ll probably bring her friends as backup. So, what do you say, Island Girl? You ready to break some bones and melt some brains?” She asked, leaning up from my shoulder and grabbing my hands tightly in excitement.

“My dear Captain, I’ve never been more ready for something in my entire life.”

[queenkrissy11-fandomaccount]

Skeletons in the Closet - Seven

Biker!Neighbor!Steve Rogers x Wealthy!Good Girl!Reader High School Au

Warnings-Swearing, sandals, attempted kidnapping, kidnapping, cheating, smoking, drinking, alcoholics, drug addicts, bullying, illegitimate children, abuse, and violence

With all the money the Mitchel’s have, many assume their lives are as picture perfect as they seem. Behind the glamorous vacations, luxurious mansion, and success that everyone sees, their lives are far from it. The only heir to the fortune, their perfect daughter Y/N, faces the worst of it. Beneath her perfectly curled hair and her flawless grades, is a closet full of skeletons just waiting to get out.  

Their next door neighbor, Steven Grant Rogers, is far from your typical boy next door. He wore a leather jacket rather than button ups, sweat shirts, and tees like the boys in the movies. He opted for a smirk rather than a sweet smile. And to top it all off he chose a motorcycle over whatever you’d picture a cute boy in. But then again, Steve Rogers wasn’t cute, he was irresistible. 

Atleast to most girls. Y/N refuses to give into the boy that likes to cloud her thoughts. The last thing she needs is a biker added to the list of things to keep from the media. A lot is expected from the heiress, and at the top of the list, right under taking over the empire, is having the perfect image. A hot, dirty biker is the last thing her image needs. However, her needs differ greatly from those of her image. And compared to everything else she keeps hidden, the media wouldn’t give Steve a second thought. 

You drop your hands and all the ties and look up to see a familiar redhead standing in the doorway, the light creating a silhouette around her all black attire.

“Natasha,” You sigh. She sees you and gives you a comforting smirk. Someone’s found you, and before you were reduced to a cold corpse. There’s hope! You try to stand but the ties still holding your feet together cause you to fall, luckily your undone hands mean you can catch yourself. 

The four men turn to face you before one of them yells, “How the hell is she-” His words were replaced with a clang of metal and then he crashes to the ground, revealing Natasha holding a crowbar like a bat.

She smirks towards the other three who immediately try to take the weapon. They fail. Miserably. In just seconds another is collapsed on the ground. You don’t dare look, knowing you’ll see part of his head bashed in. Nat pulls up the bar again, blood already coating the metal towards the top. She pulls something black out and tosses it at you before swinging yet again. You clasp the small metal only to realize it’s a pocket knife. You pull the blade out and start cutting the bands around your ankle. Once you’re free you notice the red imprints left on your skin, but at the moment, they’re the least of your worries. You take the knife and drive it into the back of one of the men, quickly pulling it out and plunging it back in. He clutches his side, blood soaking through his shirt as he turns to his companions. You kick him down and he stays there. 

You inhale sharply, “Nat! What if we killed them?” 

She waves you off, “I know my rights.” She pulls her cell phone out and selects Steve’s contact from her favorites.  

“I’ve got her.” She looks over at you, smiling softly, “Warehouse on the outskirts of downtown.” She pauses for a moment, “That’s the one.”

She looks you over, noticing your sleepwear and pulls off the leather jacket on her shoulders, handing it to you. You accept it gratefully, appreciating the cover and warmth.

You hear his bike before you see him, the engine revving as he gave it more gas, Buck right behind him. He all but lets the bike falling, running straight for you. 

He wraps his huge arms around you and lifts you off the ground. He sets you back down but locks your lips in a hungry kiss rather than giving you time to recover.

He pulls his lips back but wraps you tightly in his arms again, “I thought I lost you.” It was less than a whisper, but you heard it. 

You wrap your arms around him and squeeze as tight as you can. Just an hour ago you’d all but accepted you’d never have Steve in your arms again. 

He pulls back suddenly, “You’re covered in blood.” His fingers softly skim your skin, looking for an injury.

“It’s not mine,” You quickly clarify. The last twenty four hours will haunt you for the rest of your life but the last ten minutes more than anything. 

“What?” He suddenly looks behind you and sees the bodies lying on the ground behind you. He swallows, “Buck, call the sheriff and get him out here.”

Steve pulls you in again, tighter than before, as if he was convincing himself you were really there.

“We’ll figure out who ordered this and they’ll pay,” He sounds as if he was trying to reassure himself more than you. 

You shake your head, “I know who did it.” He and Natasha are both staring at you, “It was my dad. Just last night he was saying I’ve caused more trouble than I’m worth. It would explain why there’s no ransom. They were taunting me earlier, saying they were getting paid for my body to turn up on the river shore.” The thought made everyone sick to their stomach and Steve pulled you close again. 

“Last night? Was your dad here last night?” Steve draws his eyebrows together.

You shake your head, “Not here at my house.”

Nat steps forward, “Y/n, you’ve been missing for three days,”

“What? I know I’ve been out of it but there’s no way it’s been that long, has it?” Your mind was having trouble wrapping itself around what she was saying. Steve nodded.

“If you’re sure about this, we’ll take your theory to the police. 

[freckled-words]

Repost: Delightful Spite

This was a request piece I wrote last year, I think, I have no memory of who requested it, but its for everyone to enjoy regardless.

Just a heads up: this is a reader insert with “she/her” identifiers.

Edited by @the-wild-ego​

Mare was the friend a girl could count on to have her back. 

Bad break up? Here’s a variety of alcohol and ice cream, plus, “Do I need to go pay him a visit?”

Working late and don’t feel comfortable walking home? He’ll show up in front of your work, decked out in the most punk-ass outfit he could put together. If anyone ever thought to give you a hard time outside of the store, they’d think twice.

When it came to being your matchmaker/wingman, he really needed to give it a rest.

So far he had tried to set you up with an unbalanced doctor, an over eager showman, and a robot clone of himself. 

When he approached you about another friend, you shut him down immediately.

“Mare, I love you, and I trust you with my imaginary children, but I’m never letting you set me up again.” You said this without breaking your focus on the TV screen. You’d been bored and had started in on an all day Mario Kart endeavor. You were neck-and-neck with Yoshi, with Baby Bowser riding on your ass. 

Mare sat next to you on the couch, his eager smile still in place with the offer he came in with, “So they weren’t your type, but this guy, I promise, will be your perfect match. For example, it took me weeks to get him to agree to go on a date.”

“Fuck you, Yoshi!”

“He’s got a twisted humour, just like you.”

“Take that red shell and shove it up your ass!”

“He’s not too bad looking, even has a bit of an edgy thing going for him. You like edgy right?”

You smiled in satisfaction and relaxed as you crossed the finish line in first place. Finally facing Mare, who’d dropped his smile, you told him point blank, “If it took you weeks to convince the guy, then I’ll one-up and make you work at it for a month.”

This decided, you got off the couch to get a drink. 

Mare followed after you and leaned against the door frame as you went digging in the fridge, “I promise to never try and set you up again if this guy falls flat.”

A bottle of water in hand you rebuffed, “That’s what you said with the last guy.”

“How was I supposed to know an android could be embarrassed enough to shut himself down?!” Mare had genuinely thought Mal would have been a good match. They were different enough from each other, that it would have been like she was dating his twin brother. 

You went back to the living room and took up your controller, “Mal was too innocent for me, and you knew it. Now you either pick up the other controller, or you entertain yourself some other way. We’re done talking about this.”

Mare pursed his lips in thought, looking at the controller you offered he got an idea, “I’ll play you for it.”

“Play me for what?” You narrowed your eyes, seeing the familiar smug twitch to his lips.

He sat on the couch and grabbed the second Switch controller, “If I win, you go on this date. You win, and I’ll never try setting you up again. Deal?”

This was an interesting gamble. So far Mare was tied with you on wins. You were both super competitive, and wouldn’t refrain from physically blocking each other to win. 

On the one hand, the worst event was going on this date and suffering another awkward experience. On the other, Mare would stop trying. 

“Very well, you have a deal. If you cheat, I win by default, got it?” 

Mare repositioned himself into, what you called, his 'serious gamer pose’. His eyes already on the screen, he nodded, “Deal.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh stop pouting already, I won fair and square.” Mare chided from the driver’s seat.

You were pouting. You hadn’t stopped pouting since he’d beaten you two days ago. 

“I still think you cheated without me noticing.” You grumbled back.

Mare rolled his eyes, “Whatever, just don’t be pouting through your date. You don’t want him to think your bad mood is his fault. Besides, you shouldn’t be pouting when you’re all dressed up.”

He had a point there. You were dressed in your favorite black dress that stopped at your knees, the skirt was loose and flowy with red roses along the hem. The top half clung to you in a way that was flattering, with a sweetheart neckline, and off the shoulder straps. For a bit of comfort, instead of appeal, you chose to wear your nice, new, black combat boots. You’d drawn roses on the side with a metallic, red sharpie. 

To finish it off you’d applied ruby, red lip gloss; a dusting of shimmer, pink eyeshadow; and a flawless application of eyeliner. 

You labelled the look, ‘Badass Beautiful’.

“We’ll just make fun of you instead.” You finally quipped back.

You’d decided from the start, that regardless of the guy, you were going to hold a grain of salt against him the entire night. Petty as it was, you couldn’t convince yourself otherwise.

The car came to a stop outside your favorite restaurant, The Spaghetti Factory. Your stomach growled in anticipation of their three cheese and mushroom ravioli. 

Mare gestured towards the building, “He’ll be in there already, the reservation is under my name.”

You opened the car door and a strong wave of garlic bread hit you. Your stomach gave another ravenous growl. You hopped out of the car and gave Mare one more pout, “If he ruins my ravioli, I will make you pay.” This warning given, you slammed the door.

Mare immediately took off, giving you no chance to change your mind.

Holding onto your purse strap a bit tighter, you went inside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were in trouble.

Your entire plan was going down the drain. 

Your petty inner self was seething that Mare was winning.

Antisepticeye, the guy you’d been set up with, was just your type.

Dressed in black skinny jeans, a black t-shirt, and a black blazer, he was a perfect match to your outfit. On top of that, his hair was green. With your own hair being dyed a vibrant red, the two of you must look like gothic Christmas enthusiasts. 

Until you reached the table, he’d been resting his elbow on it with a surrely pout. Once his sight fell on you, his eyebrow had raised and a spark of something had lit up in his eyes. 

You’d awkwardly gotten through introductions, leading into the amusing subject of Mare forcing this arrangement. 

“That arse tried setting me up with another chick a couple months back. I wanted to stab myself before we even placed our orders.” Anti groaned, his fingers twitching towards the butter knife on the table.

You giggled, leaning forward to eagerly share, “She couldn’t have been as bad as the doctor he put me with. He kept calling the waiters ‘NURSE!’ It was ridiculous. I didn’t talk to Mare for a week I was so embarrassed.” 

Anti looked incredulous, “I know that guy, what the fuck was Mare thinkin’?!”

“Thank you!” 

The waiter came over then, and you were pleased when Anti ordered the same thing as you after you recommended it.

A complimentary basket of fresh made garlic bread rolls were left on your table. You loved these rolls, especially when they were still warm, which these were.

Anti watched you expertly rip the roll down the middle and apply butter. 

Half of your roll in your mouth, you watched amused as he tried to copy your trick. 

The roll turned into a deformed mess in his hands. 

His eye twitched, a sign of his annoyance. 

Before you could offer to show him the trick, he shoved the bread lump into his mouth. As he chewed, he grabbed another roll. Instead of trying your trick again, he showed you one of his own.

In awe, you watched him take out a pocket blade, stab it into the very edge of the roll and into the table, and yank on the roll. It sliced down the middle, leaving the edges neat and clean. He withdrew his blade and put it back in his pocket, giving you a wink as he smoothed out the table cloth to cover the new hole he’d made. 

You bit your bottom lip, glancing around to check if anyone saw this happen. Seeing that you were in the clear, you snickered, “Oh my god, you can’t just whip out a knife! If you’d started a panic, I wouldn’t get my ravioli.” You tried to end on a pout, but his smirk made it impossible to hold.

After that little knife trick, you started asking him about his interests and what else he could do with it. 

That lead into him asking about your interests, and then back to him.

The conversation kept going right up until the ravioli was served. At which point, you were both too engrossed with your pasta to keep long sentences going.

You were nearly finished eating, and debating on dessert, when you felt your phone go off. 

Looking at the screen you rolled your eyes, which Anti noticed.

“Bet you the last roll I know who that is.”

“Help yourself, but only if you promise to go along with my story.” You smiled as you said this, your thumbs already at work typing out your lie to Mare.

Anti didn’t take the bread roll, instead choosing to lean forward and try to read your screen. You finished the text and showed Anti.

Mare: How’s it going? You staying for dessert?  ;) 

You: Yes I’m staying for dessert. Only because their apple crumble is amazing. It’ll also make me feel better after this new crap experience. You will never play matchmaker for me again. 

Anti was grinning by the time he finished reading. He then broke into laughter when he pulled out his phone. He turned the screen towards you and you were right beside him in a fit of giggles.

Mare: Dude, what did you do?! 

Anti: Whipped my knife out and offered to butter her roll.

The dirty implications were not lost on you, which only made it that much funnier. 

You nearly had tears streaming down your face as you calmed yourself when the waiter came over.

“We’ll get an apple crumble to split please.” before this, Anti had agreed it sounded good.

Anti coughed trying to keep his laughter in check, “Two coffees, too.”

You hadn’t thought to include coffee, and it did sound like a good addition. Especially since this new game would be going on for a while, judging by the frantic texts you were getting from Mare in apology.

Once the waiter left, you managed to ask through more giggles, “H-how long do you think we can keep this up?”

Anti shrugged, grinning still to the string of cursing text messages Mare was sending him, “Until he catches on?”

“Well I don’t intend to tell him anytime soon.” 

Anti’s smirk was all teeth and delighted interest, “Thatta girl.”

[antics-pedantic]

RALLY CO. #4: THE GATE TO WITHIN, PART 1

Dieter was getting on in years. He scrambled to open another bottle of some vigor or tonic promised to grant greater vitality. He went through these quickly—it had been a guilty pleasure of his to indulge in formulas for prolonged youth. But nothing could compare to his true goal: To return to the secret place he had begun his work in. A place on Earth, yet unlike it.

          But here he found himself in hiding, at the Harbortown ports. It was not so long ago that he had been in Arcadia, Harbortown’s neighboring concrete jungle of art deco. And Dieter had yet more distance to travel. He had to get overseas, away from here. And after that, an even more tremendous distance the likes of which the world had never known.

          “Bumbling oaf!”

��         Dieter cursed all the while: Money could buy him the strong arm of thugs. But these local toughs were too clumsy for him. Unforgivably so: He was far more forgiving of his creations. Mankind squandered its potential, where his creations only had the capacity to keep learning. And without complaint!

          “Be careful with my shipment! One wrong move and everything will be ruined!”

          “Cut us some slack, Prof!” wheezed a goon, as they and their gang carefully brought the wide crate down in front of Dieter. “This thing weighs a ton. What’d you get, a new fridge?”

          “Hardly. Once it’s assembled we’ll be home free.”

          The thing in the crate was an archaic archway. The goons were more than a little annoyed at this bout of admiring archaeological findings: They had been expecting something more obviously capable of helping them out of their present situation. That is, until Dieter had started to use his instruments to toy with the stones. The tracing of his instruments over the stones revealed etched grooves. Symbols patterned into each face of the archway’s stones rather than alphabetic characters. Patterns that Dieter had studied for some time now.

          “Dieter Leistung…”

          Even in his anger, the voice that Dr. Dieter Leistung heard now gave him chills. He turned to look in every direction. But could not pinpoint the source of the sound. Nor could his hired goons, who were getting to be on high alert. A prankster would hardly pose a threat to such a watchful bunch.

          But this was no prankster. It was however, one of those times where misdirection made bedfellows of folks and foolishness: For the sting of .45 caliber bullets knocked away any melee weapon or firearm that might have been brandished.

          “Justice finds you, Doctor.” the voice from no discernable direction continued.

          “Impossible! Though I abandoned my work, I left no trail!” thundered Leistung.

          The voice offered laughter. Mocking laughter.

          “Think of me as the guilty conscience you thought yourself above having. Ever-watching, ever-judging.”

          A fist lashed out to send one of Dieter Leistung’s men a couple of steps back. It wasn’t an immediate knockout. But it had them startled, ready to lash out at the first sign of another person close-by. It served to scatter them, despite their boasts to the darkness. If the shadows did not heed them, would they fare any better with their vigilante tormentor?

          “An extra thousand to the man who can gut The Junker!”

          Leistung set about introducing some chemicals and copper wiring to set points on the gate and activating a portable generator. All the while behind him, several of his thugs were knocked around, fighting with their phantom foe. They scored a few punches but only blindly so, never with consistency.

          “I’ve got him!” one goon exclaimed, gesturing to a white scarf he’d grabbed. “Someone grab the tommy gun while I’ve got him all choked up!”

          Another goon dived for the weapon that they’d been disarmed of earlier, preparing to fire. They caught the briefest glimpse of a raven-haired figure in an aviator’s jacket, the white scarf, and goggles. Goggles whose lenses gave off a light green glow. Even for the darkly colored ensemble, this hardly seemed a figure that should have been able to escape their sight. And yet he did, along with all the other senses.

          “AUGH!”

          A swift motion from two gloved hands locked the arm that had held the scarf. What few features of the mystery man that were visible only offered a minute displeasure at having his breathing briefly constricted. This prompted the goon with the tommy gun to cut loose, showering the area ahead with gunfire. The bullets stopped abruptly following two clicks: One of the submachine gun’s ammo drum being suddenly removed, and the second being as the goon reflexively continued to shoot. At least, until he was hit in the mouth with his own ammo drum.

          The Junker loomed over this body, drawing his dual pistols once again to threaten Leistung. But the mad doctor was already going through the archway, as a shimmering effect occurred in the space beneath and between the stone archway that caused his disappearance, before the generator shorted out and damaged the arch.

          But, that wasn’t to say the Junker lacked for an idea as to where Leistung was going. Junker did after all, recognize the patterns of the archway…

X

          Elsewhere, world-renowned occult detective Solomon Callahan awoke from his slumber. He had recalled that he’d traveled to the markets of Morocco after some such artifact or trinket of interest. Perhaps inquire about any local issues with the paranormal, or other exceptional forces that might have been troubling folks. And he did so with the company of his students, all of whom drew closer and closer to being professionals under his guiding influence.

          Almost all of them, at least. Solomon didn’t wish to dwell on that, at this moment where there was little he could do about the past. Not when he was needed here and now as a guide. To put forth all his learned skill as a mystic to use against the forces of evil, as was the trade of investigators and explorers—the noble adventurer.

          “Monsieur Callahan, are you well?”

          Where Solomon’s hair turned snow white from stress, Katrina Kafka’s hair was more of a silver, accented by her favorite red hairband. Her eyes and complexion were like the paled terror of one who appeared haunted. But in spite of that, the former Parisian inhabitant had traveled overseas with her mentor to stay with him while she honed her psychic abilities.

          “I can’t hide much from you, can I dear?” chuckled Solomon.

          But Katrina shook her head. “This is not being the most ideal state, let alone just before important actions are to be taken. And I know it is made worse, by hearing of the Junker.”

          Solomon frowned.

          “That vindicator is all the way back in Arcadia, stateside. I can only hope he’s not stirring the proverbial hornet’s nest.”

          “Yes, but—”

          Katrina meant to ask Solomon more about his ties to the mystery man, before there came a familiar pair of dueling voices: Returning to their shared hostel were two lively sorts: A tall, umber-skinned woman whose pockets were lined with a couple of test tubes, and her shorter companion who might have passed for an escaped orangutan with his messy reddish-brown head of hair and full side-burns about his round cheeks.

          “And I say to ye again, Ez!” bellowed cryptozoologist Tycho Gallagher. “That ye be missin’ out on some mighty fine Turkish coffee. That ladle-thing set in the hot sand. Makes for a stronger drink than most sell it as such elsewhere.”

          “And I say to you, my hirsute accomplice.” spat emininent bio-chemist Esmerelda “Ez” Broughton. “You may enjoy your deplorable bean waters without bringing me into it! Just as I was set to find fine fabrics with which I might set upon making my own fashions. Katrina dear, I’m so sorry that Tycho prevented me from finding a proper souvenir!”

          “Th-that is quite alright, Esmerelda!” chuckled Katrina, nervously. “Might we perhaps resume our original goal first?”

          “Yeah well, I don’t see much stock in it.” said Tycho, as he stuck a tongue out at Ez. “Shooing a lion from a movie theater was all the action I got to see. Nary a true disturbance by cryptid or any other manner of monster. I shoulda stayed back in Arcadia and continued at the university!”

          “Indeed, save us the trouble.” Ez playfully jabbed, as was her custom with Tycho. The two were always friends beneath the taunting. “I for one, have done splendidly on my analysis and restoration of artifacts. Say, has anyone seen Felix?”

X

          Felix Basra was a very serious Pakistani woman, in training since adolescence to become a detective like her aunt Malika, or Solomon. Versed in the martial arts, preferring the use of a hooked rod known as the jutte, perfect for catching blades and striking foes bluntly. And maybe, Felix also had taken to leadership well. For it was her efforts that brought together and now kept alive the adventuring alliance known as the Rally Company. She was following in the tradition Solomon and his colleagues had begun, righting wrongs and using specialized knowledge and skills to tackle strange situations.

          And that included this one, in which she had personally set about finding back alley leads on the crime cult of the Golden Shadow. A supposed necromancer, but for certain a gangster of mystery. Felix specifically wanted revenge against the assassin that injured her aunt, forcing her out of investigative work. Felix owed this to her after Malika cared for her like Felix was her own daughter.

          She deftly avoided the thrust of several daggers, their steel clanging against that of her jutte. The battle was back and forth for a time until finally not one, but two of her would-be slayers erred and got their blades caught on the hook of the jutte. A strong twist later, they were disarmed of their knives. The remainder sought to throw their blades, Felix just barely catching their glint in the light as she drew her revolver and fired. When the gunsmoke cleared, every cheap hitman in the room had been subdued.

          “The Golden Shadow. Who are his most favored assassins?!” demanded Felix, huffing all the while from her exertion, as well as her anxiety over finding answers.

          “We don’t know! They come and go so swiftly through our neutral grounds.”

          “And outside of it?”

          “Fool! Rival assassins are at each other’s throats all the time. Any who might know would never live to tell the tale.”

          “Then why did your lot work so intently on those?”

          The assassin turned: Nearby was a large set of large, lidded vases. And Felix pointed to them, seemingly for no reason.

          “Have you gone mad?”

          “When I walked in it was the only container with holes drilled into the lid.”

          Just then, the container in question tipped over and was smashed open to reveal a fellow wearing a poncho over surplus military gear.

          “You oaf…” grunted the assassin. “I can’t believe we paid him so much to come here—AGH!"

          Felix shoved aside the assassin to address the foreign mercenary.

          “The mercenary, Duke Luke, I presume?”

          The man threw his poncho at Felix in the hopes it would give him the chance to get up to his feet. He lunged, trying to go for a pistol hidden under a desk. Felix dived for cover behind a sofa, revolver in hand. Duke Luke was at a disadvantage: He was afraid. If Felix hadn’t gotten such a workout from fighting off those assassins just now, she might have captured the mercenary by now.

          “Give it up. Even if these killers weren’t writhing in pain, I’ve smashed your illusion.”

          “The hell you have! I’m a soldier of fortune. I’ve fought in conflicts around the world!”

          “Mm. And always lived to tell about it. You’re a smart little chicken, aren’t you?”

          Duke Luke roared. He emerged from his hiding spot to fire. There were only a couple reports from his weapon, bullets drilling through the furniture Felix was behind as she gave off an anguished cry. Duke Luke’s laughter was boisterous, as he approached to confirm his kill. So boisterous that he almost missed the sound of Felix’s foot kicking the gun from his hand.

           “Damn you! I’m going to make it out of here! They swore it!”

          “Swear all you want, Duke. You’re going to tell me all about your time as an employee of the Golden Shadow.”

          Felix finally had a lead. This was it! While the rest of Rally Co. had managed to find the artifact being smuggled, she had pressed the possibility that the Golden Shadow’s gang was behind this caper. She did have to wonder why Solomon was not as forthcoming with that information as he should have been though.

          And then a velociraptor broke through a padlocked door.

Duke Luke screamed, Felix’s own vocal chords freezing in fear. She turned her gun to fire, grazing the beast. Duke Luke saw something in the room it emerged from, and sprinted towards it while Felix rolled out of the path of the raptor, adrenaline pushing her to avoid its tooth-and-nail attacks, as she received a few fresh cuts and some spots on her jacket were torn. Finally, Felix forced a chair into the jaw of the beast, before running into the room after Duke Luke.

And there stood the carved stones in an arch, not unlike the one she’d seen the Golden Shadow attempt to use not so long ago. Within the center of the arch was a shimmering light that also seemed to move like the surface of troubled waters. She could make out greens—even purples and other shades of jungle foliage along with craggy rocks and dimly lit tunnels. There she saw Duke Luke sprinting with no regard for his own safety.

The wooden chair Felix had used to stave off the velociraptor was broken to splinters. The dinosaur charged ahead at her, aiming to whip her with its tail. Felix dived to the side as the tail lashed upon the stone arch, with sufficient force to damage it as it stumbled through the portal just before it closed.

Felix would have to find the nearest payphone or teletype: The others had to get here immediately to examine this before it was too late. The trail couldn’t end here, and perhaps it was leading to something bigger.

[shepherds-of-haven]

in a modern au, who would be the ROs’ favorite superheroes?

Ooh, good question… (please note that I’m heavy on the DC knowledge of things and less on Marvel, but I’ll do my best to be balanced…)

Blade: Nightwing in the phase where he’s killing people. Batman is the real OG in his book but he waited way too long to exact vengeance on the people who ruined his life…

Trouble: Superman, the apple-pie-and-American-dream superhero who’s also the strongest in the league, come on!!!! Wolverine would be a close second: he’s a grade-A, cigar-smoking badass. 

Tallys: Wonder Woman, the smart, powerful, and possibly immortal woman on the team who seems to be the only voice of reason at times… She digs Themyscira’s reclusive society and Wonder Woman’s struggle to adapt to the modern world! Vixen, the superhero who’s intimately tied with all animals, would be a close second. 

Shery: Barbara Gordon in her Oracle phase. Shery would relate heavily to her playing the support role to a team she really cares about… 

Chase: Ironman. Rich, flashy, kind of a playboy asshole… he’s all about that life… The Flash (specifically Wally West’s Flash from the Justice League animated show) would be a close second!

Riel: Martian Manhunter–possibly the chillest and most intelligent superhero in the Justice League–who can change into any shape he likes and density shift, etc. He would be a perfect fit for Riel!! Dr. Fate–with his powers of Order against Chaos–would be a runner-up.

Red: Spiderman! He likes Peter Parker’s sense of humor in contrast to other superheroes and finds Peter’s powers very cool. Aquaman, with his elemental powers and sort of magical society, would be a close second. 

Ayla: Hawkgirl! She totally relates to Hawkgirl’s ‘outsider’, wandering status with the rest of the League and her abrasive attitude. Plus her powers are kickass and bitch can fly!! Black Canary, with her insane martial arts skills, would be a close second. 

Lavinet: Zatanna, with her showmanship and magic, would be her favorite, though Starfire–with her beauty and passion/being a princess and all–would be tied! She’d also really like Catwoman and her dynamic with Batman!

Bonus:

Caine: Captain Marvel/Shazam, because, come on. He’s an eleven-year-old boy who gets to hang out with cool adults and be a superhero member of the Justice League! That’s basically just Caine himself

Halek: The Hulk: he totally gets losing yourself in a berserker rage but actually being a gentle, intelligent soul beneath the crazy warrior strength!

Mimir: Raven, of course! She’s just as dark and weird as Mimir herself, and they even dress in similar colors!

Prihine: Artemis, the female sidekick of Green Arrow, would be her favorite for her fiery attitude and troubled background. Red Arrow/Roy Anderson, Green Arrow’s male sidekick, would be a runner-up because she likes his muscles/’tude. 

[naivepets]

Why is My Dog Suddenly Eating Grass Like Crazy?

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Dogs do some actually strange things, and one of the ones that many dog moms and dads have seen before is chowing down on grass ! Wondering why your andiron he ’ second on the spur of the moment made grass his main diet staple ? here ’ s what you should know ! Your dog is most likely eating grass because he’s not feeling well, and the grass is healthy food for them. This could be from lacking something in general nutrition, or something more holocene. If he is doing it all of a sudden, he may have an upset stomach, since grass can be known to help them vomit. Below, you ’ ll learn what the sudden grass-eating demeanor means a well as reasons why he could be eating grass, any red flags or behaviors to watch for, and how to stop your frank from eating denounce .

Why is my dog madly eating grass all of a sudden ?

The biggest thing with notice that he ’ randomness eating grass is figuring out whether he has, in fact, started doing it madly, or whether you ’ re noticing it for the beginning time. It ’ south considered normal for dogs to chow down on the grass when they ’ re exploring the backyard or going for a walk, but most of us just assume he ’ south sniffing rather than eating. It could barely be that you ’ re noticing it for the first fourth dimension ! If you are sure it ’ s a new demeanor, keep read below !

Is eating grass dangerous for dogs ?

No, eating grass is not dangerous for dogs in and of itself. biologically speaking, dogs ’ ancestors considered grass to be a staple of their diet and it ’ s absolutely dependable for them to eat and digest as intend.

Reading: Why is My Dog Suddenly Eating Grass Like Crazy?

That being said, you will have to watch out for what they ’ rhenium feed in the grass itself. From bugs to toxic plants to even something as simple as chowing down on pesticide-treated grass — not all grass is safe!

Why do dogs eat grass ?

so, why is your adorable furred friend eating grass ? There could be a few reasons, actually. Some of the mains are below for you :

Biological instinct

They found tasty grass

They’re bored

Their stomach is upset

Their diet is lacking they’re trying to make up for it

biological instinct

even though dogs are domesticated now, their ancestral instincts can still kick in and cause them to eat some grass even though they have absolutely delightful kibble and treats in the sign of the zodiac. Think of it as their “just in case I’m hungry later” instinct! They equitable want to make sure that they don ’ thyroxine forget to “ pack a nosh ”, so they grab a mouthful of grass. You have to admit, it ’ second kind of curious, right ?

They found tasty supergrass

indisputable, it sounds weird, but it ’ second more common than you ’ five hundred think ! There are many different types of eatage out there and dogs have a taste for some over others. For exemplify, sweetgrass is a democratic darling that ’ s pretty rare, all things considered, for your frump ’ sulfur normal outings. Since he doesn’t get his favorite grass very often, he could start ripping up every blade he finds when he discovers a patch of it!

They ’ re bored

Yes, seriously. If your dog is under-stimulated and bored, he’ll consider eating grass as something fun to do when he’s outside and enjoying some time to himself. He besides may see it as a room to get your care to play with him, as many pet parents will come out to get their frump to stop literally eating the backyard .

Their stomach is upset

When their abdomen is upset from eating something bad or tied eating excessively a lot, dogs often turn to grass as their translation of Pepto Bismol. Grass settles their stomach because it is unmanageable to digest and can cure any bubble that ’ mho going on. It besides can encourage them to throw up, which much gets rid of the bad food they eat, besides, curing the trouble. It ’ south gross, but it works !

Their diet is lacking they ’ re trying to make up for it

Another factor to their habit is that they feel their diet is lacking in something and they ’ ra turning to grass as a substitute. Dogs are particularly talented at knowing when they ’ re deficient in something, and working to fix it. For model, when a dog is deficient in roughage, the grass is rich in fiber and they ’ ll start eating it to help increase their dose .

Are Centipedes Poisonous to Dogs?

x

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Red flags when it comes to grass eating

While grass-eating is more or less harmless in most situations, there are a few situations where you should be very attentive to watching your frump for any foster symptoms. Some of those situations include :

Your dog is eating grass and panting excessively

Your dog is eating grass and coughing

Your dog is eating grass and vomiting over and over again

In these situations, it could mean that the grass eat is either causing a problem ( such as pesticides or poison ), or it could mean that your andiron needs help dealing with a serious problem such as bloat, or tied a blockage. Any or all of these points should mean a call to your vet at the very least! 

There are besides a few other grass-related reasons why you may want to contact your veterinarian, excessively. The first is that he ’ randomness started eating grass out of the middle of nowhere. It ’ south very strange demeanor that is detectable enough to be very out of the ordinary. For example a bombastic total preferably than just a bunch here and there.

Read more: My Dog Has Bad Gas Suddenly – What’s Going On?

besides, if you notice that he seems actually delirious about the grass choice, it could be an consequence. Rather than fair a mouthful hera or there, he ’ sulfur intentionally devouring every one blade he can find without choosing his topographic point . If you suspect any kind of pesticide use on the grass that he was eating, or you notice a toxic plant nearby, this can also be cause for concern. Common symptoms to watch for include :

Shivering

Diarrhea

Pale gums

Lethargy 

Should I stop my andiron from eating denounce ?

In a general context, your dog’s habit of eating grass is harmless. It ’ s a normal matter for dogs to do and isn ’ t a problem demeanor in and of itself. That being said, you can decide to redirect his behavior if it actually bothers you, or you ’ re worry about pesticide manipulation. More on that in the adjacent section !

How to stop my dog from eating grass

If you ’ re made it your mission to stop your cad from eating grass, careless of the rationality, the first matter to do is to understand why he ’ mho eating the grass. He is struggling with his diet ? Does he have a stomach issue ? Whatever the induce is, treating that will be a huge help . Since dogs don’t always communicate clearly, however, finding the source of the problem could mean trying to solve the problem first, and then watching for any change in the future. For case, if you suspect that he ’ sulfur bored or he ’ s found his favored grass, or he ’ south fair having a biological moment, you can try to redirect his behavior. For example, you can toss a ball or get him to play with you or come over for a cover, etc. This will distract him efficaciously in most cases . besides, make certain that you are giving him enough dally a well as giving him plenty of playtime throughout the sidereal day, so he ’ s not thus blase or lacking in care that he eats grass to get your care . If you think it might be dietary or related to his stomach broken, bring it up to your vet following time you go in to talk to them. They may be able to find out what their dietary needs are and help them from no longer feeling the need to supplement with grass! Grass feed might be normal in some cases, but frantic eat of it can mean a more unplayful issue. These reminders and tips can help you keep everyone in good health and safety !

stopping point

It ’ second normal for dogs to eat grass, but delirious eat, particularly out of the average, could signal that your frank has an write out with boredom, his dietary needs, or his stomach is upset. If he is eating a lot of it and seems uncomfortable, consult with your veterinarian ! Did any of this surprise you ? Are you curious about whether anyone else ’ s dogs eat supergrass like maniac ? share this and see what those around you have to say !

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source : https://blog.naivepets.com Category : Dog

source https://blog.naivepets.com/why-is-my-dog-eating-grass-all-of-a-sudden-1645997370

[tomioneer]

the yyh marathon continues 10 with episodes 31-33

CHU CHU CHU CHU

no, I’m not making train noises

he’s amazing.

i love chu’s stupid hair, I really do. it’s so fun to like, watch move around 

10/10 would date someone with that style ponytail. not the mohawk though, that’s too tall.

better and bigger and BUFFER than I remember damn son

speaking of sons.

soft yusuke

pure, blessed, angel baby yusuke

you’ve realized by now, of course, that I prefer his hair down, but did you ALSO KNOW that i prefer this child is garishly bright coats

no wonder I love napping!yusuke so much and remember these early matches so fondly despite what horrible shit the other kids go through

reminder that they are ALL children

except for rinku. honestly, in retrospect, presumably full-demon rinku is probably older than any of them? 

except for kurama. because. youko.

hiei is somewhere between actually fourteen in human years and like. 300 in demon years, probably.

I feel like kurama, an apparently four tailed fox (I maintain this is a lie, as kitsune can willfully appear to have less tails than they actually possess) is like. four or five hundred human years old at least

koto is a standard kitsune, by the way--transforms into a pretty girl, has one tail in her human form, and is a red fox.

I digress.

chu. chu is an adult. chu is not fourteen, so I can enjoy his shirtlessness without any qualms

koto,  oh my god: “well, they’ve burned their skin, shortened their breath, and somehow lost their shirts. altogether I’d call it a successful fight!”

relatable

they’re laughing, and it’s honestly adorable. 

they’re not hysterical, koto, they’re bonding. 

yusuke used to fight because he had nothing better to do and nothing worth staying out of trouble for, to his perception. maybe he thought it better to get killed in a fight than end up like his mom??? I can’t say

and he certainly never understood keiko’s vested interest in him

he fell in love with that kind of fighting, the carefree brawls where he always came out on top, and used them as a way to prove himself

but now he understands fighting at another level entirely, where his life really is in danger, and the stakes are higher than he’d previously imagined they could be. this isn’t about territory or revenge, he’s been saving lives

and he loves it, and so does this random stranger he’s ended up fighting

of course chu comes back as an ally later

he’s one of the first people yusuke’s ever understood on such a resonant level

thanks for the dramatic preview, kurama, but I really wouldn’t call them perfectly matched

in a fight bewtween two people of equal skill, the bigger one usually wins

or so says anita blake in laughing corpse, a book I havne’t read in ten years lol

so I have a thing for supernatural detectives, sue me

I ran out of ice cream ten episdes and 2 days ago. in retrospect, It hought I was going through these episodes faster than that

knife-edge death match

why is he australian

have I asked that yet, because I’m asking

koenma doens’t like the sound of that but I rmember how this goes and I LOVE IT

shizuru makes a dick measuring joke

watching chu remove his shoes is my new sexuality

btw if you don’t know what ‘toe off your shoes is’ in fanfiction, please watch this sequence because chu does it and yusuke does not

yusuke, I will say again, is a CHILD

yusuke loves the rules of this fight and if it weren’t amanga where he’s not aloud to use the same sort of fight more than once for fear of boring readers, I guarnatee ytou yusuke would do this more often

I can’t believe yusuke and chu are both just standing there in that position waiting with their feet on the sharpened edges of knife blades while the cimmitte decides whether or not a death match is allowed in a death match

yusuke is so small

ominous dark clouds that I missed bc I was typing lol

boys just punch okay

oooh and they even light the fight fo us, interesting

koenma somehow doesn’t recognize someone he knows and has known for years, according to the genkai tournament arc.

yusuke has to reach a lot farther to hit chu

karasu showed up like the little bitch he is

are those tiny eyeglasses on his mask, because if so that is BEYOND STUPID

karasu has a crush on yusuke, I know because his eyes shone and he’s gay

no, I don’t ship it

I could almost ship yusuke and chu though lol

I DO half-ship chu and koto

what the hell, I count them both

ship count: 6/400

kuwabara: I could watch them fight for hours... 

keiko, immediately: I can’t watch them fight anymore!

knowing how this match ends really makes it funny that  the dub, when those plant zombies showed up, had yusuke ask Kurama if he should headbutt them  

shizuru makes an totally unacceptable, but still funny, joke about yusuke having died once already (because they don’t know he pretty much died a second time against rando, and a third time against suzaku)

keiko runs off and shizuru chases her

is this why shizuru meets sakyo? he left his viewing room earlier so I bet it is

I remember shipping them as a kid, let’s see how that goes this time

this is pretty cool actually

she dresses like a first calss gay, honestly

I wishi I could pull that sort of look off

SAKYO hey who guessed he’d show up here , not me

he is beautiful

I actually forgot that this whole time, my favorite fight was going on

I can’t beleive keiko actually got into the fighter’s area and made it onto the field that girl is fucking unstoppable

Keiko, crying: Kuwabara, you have to make them stop fighting!

Kuwabara, clueless: no way, why would I wanna do that?

classic

I read a theory online that kuwabara used to be friends with keiko and yusuke when they were all little, and it has totally changed the way I see it whenever these two interact.

kuwabra genuinely tries to explain this fighter’s mindset to a noncombatant. he is a good, patient boy

yusuke is loving this fight

so is chu

rinku’s internal observations are completely different in the subtitles, saying that chu still has something hidden up his sleeve and it waitinf or the right time to use it, where in english he says that hie wishes the reast of team urameshi had given such a good fight, so rinku could have ‘given his yo-yo a workout’ which is a terrible euphemism for... using his yo yo weapons.

I’m surprised we haven’t gotten more shots of their feet against knives, bleeding

as I went  to type that, we get the first shot of exactly that, as yusuke goes in for his own headbutt to counter chu’s

which was aparently the ‘secret weapon’ rinku meant in the subs

yusuke has beautiful eyes

chu’s head BROKE THE FLOOR

yusuke called chu mate, I dig it

yusuke and kuwabara are cute and gay

oh, they are extra gay when they do sidehugs

I can’t believe that of this whole team only two people are left

yusuke is my hero

he just yelled loudly enough to shup up the entire arena of spectators

“if you idiots got something to say, say it! but say it to my face, or else say it to my fist.” 

that’s a badly written but highly epic and kickass line

I have NO IDEA what chu just said because the audio broke and he has am AUSTRALIAN ACCENT

son of a--

the narrator just fucking punned

yusuke flipped off the toguro kyoudai, and the screen does the dramatic stylized freeze, and the narrator goes, “yusuke may be flippant now”

YOU SUCK

but also it’s a good joke I hate it

where did keiko go during the dramatic pan over the team anyway, she was down there with them.

I rewound and she is Not There.

WHYYYY did they even make Chu say anything??? he doesn’t in the japanese version, there are no subs for him

I really miss the old ED. I love the images for this one, the keiko focus. but. it doesn’t have the same energy. it’s not a jam

now that I thinka bout it, the photograph at the end of that ED could only have been taken in universe on the return trip from the tournament, so I should never have worried that hiei or kurama or kuwabara actually died.

I’m so glad for this arc if only because it’s means all these casual clothes for our cast, and I love that

look how high wasted yusuke’s jeans are, I love it, Ireally do. BOYS , wear high waisted jeans.

during purely internal monolgue, dub yusuke gives a fraction of the information sub yusuke gives by just saying “damn it” instead of “I can’t focus my reiki, why??”

kuwabara’s outside, coincidentally passing by where yusuke is, because hs’ not psychic and ISN’T LOOKING FOR HIM cuz he’s not gay

look, I realize I’m calling yusuke and kuwabara gay a lot. I don’t mean literally gay. 

they are obviously bisexual, or pan, or demi.

I just mean they fall under the LGBTQIA+ umbrella, which is in my region frequently shortened to “gay”

Kuwabara immediaetly ruins my theory by straight up admitting to looking for yusuke and wondering why he wasn’t left a note

kuwabara (paraphrased): I wanna have a team meeting

yusuke, a smarty who already knows he ain’t straight: have a meeting with yourself, then. you’ll learn a lot.

kuwabara, who clearly needs more time: what does that mean?

justas I was about to say tha tI couldn’t beleive they just--left genkai in the room alone, we see that genkai is actually stalking her student now that she’s bored of intimadting kuwabara

we just--that’s the ichigaki team

those poor men

those three poor, wonderul men

I remember nothing about those two demon members of the team but now I’m getting flashes of--delaying hiei and kurama?

thank you kurama, you nerd, for bothering to do research on the next team

yusuke, who now trains on his own time even after running out of reiki: why am I so damn tired?

is this. a filler villain? or did togashi really come up with a character who manifests rubgy balls and calls himself rugby

WHY is the dub so far off the sub right now? there’s no lip flap to match!!

this is awful

buys a fucking gymnast

well he lasted for three minutes before getting killed by his own teammate

GENKAI SPEAKS BLESS HER

oh man yusuke thought is was genkai and is now confused as fuck by this young voice amazing

but why the fuck does she sound young, when she hasn’t exerted herself at all that day

she just, fucking tells them about hiei fucking up his arm

baby YOU KNEW you were making that trade, you KNEW

botan looks a lot like sailor moon right now

keiko confimrs that she is aware yusuke has the hots for her, but also that she can see how happy he is here in the tournament

shizuru’s ass is AMAZING

it’s shocking to think neither hiei nor kurama could tell toguro was alive when they were just a room away from him

why are yususke’s eyes glowing

that whole team is huge, how did rugby even make it on that team lol

‘don’t you have a team?’ “of course I do, but they’re extremely lazy” amazing.

I mean, we know they brothers are famous, but it makes so much more sense WHY they are famous--having previously WON the dark tournament

I wouldn’t be opposed to a movie or something about that tournament, honestly. I want to se more of toguro when he was human. 

I wonder how genkai feels weatching him do this

toguro is sort of like an early saitama, if you strip away personality. their drive at this point is similar from what I know of OPM. 

okay so the dub has creepy-possessive implcations thanks to toguro saying (about yusuke) “that boy is reserved for me”. the SUB on the other hand--toguro just says, ‘it’s a bad day to be a large guy, huh?’ which is fucking. amazing. bold. iconic.

yusuke is sitting next to the previous LOVE of toguro’s LIFE, and he doesn’t even notice her. just yusuke. I guess amask really can hide everything?

I’m stunned they aren’t having more trouble  about sittin ght eaudience that was calling for their blood yesterday.

of course yusuke and his friends have to deal with an extra match lol. 

okay but what’s up with this reigun thing. I don’t remember it at all. 

I guess we just really need to see genkai fight.

i do love and admire her a lot.

on the other hand, I do NOT want to see the vs. dr. ichigaki fight. I remember it pretty well I think? and it was just so--upsetting. 

did we uh. ever get a NAME for the younger toguro brother???

[aresaphrodites]

the night’s on fire chapter one

Summary: 

"the scariest monsters are the ones that lurk within our souls." -edgar allen poe

Lies. Betrayal. Star-crossed lovers. Hope. Dreams. Tragedy. Betty Cooper is tasked with taking down Jughead Jones and the throne he sits upon. Nothing is ever that simple though and Betty soon finds herself in the middle of his world as she learns that not everything is always black and white.

Here we go, guys! :)

A few things before we start. This is a mafia au so Jughead is going to have his dark moments. I want him to be pretty ruthless since that's kind of what his entire character is here. This means that he'll be involved in the occasional murder, torture, and illegal crime activity. That being said, he will NEVER be abusive towards Betty. I just want to clear that before anyone asks or assumes or anything. He's a mean man but there's only person he'll adore above all else and that's Betty. However, he is going to be pretty rude and uncaring towards her in the beginning because that's just his attitude. It'll change.

I've been doing a little research so here's some vocab for you guys! The Boss (FP): Head of the entire organization and has the power to order anything from anyone in the organization. Think CEO of a business. Most Bosses of the Mafia are Multi-Millionaires or Multi-Billionaires, and are incredibly powerful, influential, extremely dangerous, and universally feared. Underboss (Jughead): Second in command in the hierarchy of the Mafia crime family. Groomed to become the eventual Boss. Capo (Reggie): In charge of the soldiers, can order them to do anything like murder, assault, witness intimidation, picking up cash, deliveries, etc. He is ranked high up in the Mafia hierarchy and takes care of most of the money. Solider (Joaquin + OC's): Grunts of the organization who do the majority of the work such as murder, assault, picking up cash, deliveries, etc etc.

In this story there will be mentions of drugs, prostition, and other illegal crime activity. I'll put warnings in each chapter for whatever is happening in that specific chapter.

In this chapter: Drug mention.

Thank you to @itstenafterfour for looking this over. Can't wait to work on this new story with you!

The title is from Hurricane by Thirty Seconds to Mars which this fic is loosely based off of.

That being said, I hope you enjoy!

The man screams out. They always scream during their last moments. Jughead wonders if maybe they scream because they know, no matter what they say after this point, there’s no going back. He isn’t going to let them live, he’s not going to let them “call their family for one last goodbye”. He’s not going to let them do any of it.

“Shut up,” he says nonchalantly as he drags the blade of his favorite knife across the man’s chest. “You knew this would come,” he tells the man, Jonathan, with a disappointed look. “I just need to know, when you decided to doublecross me, what did you think was going to happen? Did you think I wouldn’t find out? Did you think I’d let it go because of all the times you ‘were there for me’?” Before he can answer, Jughead takes the knife and jams it into Jonathan's leg. He screams and Jughead smiles sinisterly at him. He’s always loved whenever they scream; it’s his favorite part of all of this.

He twists the knife around, smiling wider with every yell and cry the man lets out.

His father had told him once when he was younger that he would grow up to be soft and sensitive; weak. At the time it might have been true. There was a point in his life whenever he was weak, when he was soft. As a child, he didn’t understand his father’s job and he didn’t want to. That changed as he got older, as he learned the truth behind the family business. His love for the family grew just as his need to please his father did. Imagine his dad’s surprise when he learned his son harbored a bigger bloodlust than he ever did. FP Jones was respected and he was feared, but not like Jughead Jones was feared.

“I have to make a message out of you,” Jughead sighs. “Which is incredibly unfortunate. You were one of my best men. If only you weren’t such an idiot.” He stands up straight, no longer leaning over Jonathan and pulls his knife out of the man’s leg, causing him to breathe in harshly through his nose.

“Fuck you,” Jonathan spits at him. Jughead just clicks his tongue at him before turning over to Reggie Mantle, his second in command.

Reggie stands in the corner of the room like he always does; tall, detached, and ready to comply. He doesn’t move a muscle until Jughead tells him to.

“Kill him,” Jughead instructs. “And make it good.”

Only then does Reggie move; smirking at his instructions as he walks forward towards Jonathan. Reggie’s just as ruthless as Jughead is and it’s the reason the two work together so perfectly. Jughead would be nothing without his partner.

He walks out of the room. He doesn’t care to see this part. Reggie will torture him a little bit before one big finale, usually a bullet between the middle of this eyes, and then he’ll get rid of the body and that will be that. Jughead’s used to it. He used to enjoy doing the killing himself, but now he was over it. If he had someone who could do the dirty work for him, why did he need to bother at all?

He leaves the basement and walks up the stairs back to the parlor. Joaquin DeSantos is sitting in one of the red leather chairs, legs crossed and looking all too relaxed. Joaquin was a kid, only twenty years old, but Jughead’s dad had taken him in when he was about ten years old. His parent’s had been deadbeats and if it weren’t for FP, he’d probably be dead. Joaquin was loyal and he was fierce, Jughead thought of him as a brother, but he was also careless. Jughead would see the way his eyes would wander when they were out in public; how they’d linger a little too long on the people his age that were out having fun, going to college, working normal jobs. Joaquin was a good soldier, but his heart wasn’t in it; not like Jughead and Reggie’s were.

“Bored?” He asks, startling the younger boy. “Should have helped Reggie out downstairs.” In all honesty, it should have been Joaquin doing the killing and not Reggie, since Reggie was a capo but they both knew that he didn’t have the heart or strength to do it. Joaquin was good for deliveries, picking up cash, the occasional assault, but not murder.

“I’m not bored,” the blue eyed boy bit back. That was another thing; the kid had an attitude. If he hadn’t been brought up as Jughead’s younger brother; Jughead probably would have beat the shit out of him long ago. He didn’t respect anyone unless it was FP and Jughead was getting real tired of it. “I’m just sick of sitting here and playing watchdog. It’s not like anyone’s going to barge in and ask where that douchebag went.”

He has a point. Even if someone did care about where Jonathan Ruiz went, they weren’t ever going to find him. Jughead lived in a mansion that was so far from civilization, it was nearly off the grid. It wasn’t exactly convenient, but it was necessary. He couldn’t have anyone trying to trail him. His father had been the one to talk him out of buying a luxurious apartment on the Upper East Side of New York and Jughead was thankful for it. There’s no way he’d be able to get away with murder, or any of this, in an apartment.

“Fine, you want something to do?” Joaquin’s eyes light up at the question and now he looks at Jughead with excitement instead of disdain. “I need you to go to Toni’s and pick up this week’s logs.”

Joaquin nods eagerly and is out of the parlor before Jughead can say anything else.

Toni Topaz is one of their associates, but she’s a hell of a lot more than that to Jughead. She’s one of his closest friends, probably the closest. She’s been in his life ever since she had beat the shit out of some pudgy kid for stealing his pudding on the first day of kindergarten. True friendships are forged over violence, he thought jokingly.

Jughead’s dad hadn’t been happy that his son had cried in front of everyone and had to rely on a girl to help him out, but Toni hadn’t judged him at all; not even when FP had yelled at his son and hit him over the head for making him come to the school over something so childish. It was the last time Jughead ever made that mistake.

Toni stuck up for him after that and then, when they got older, Jughead stuck up for her. The two were thicker than thieves and got into more trouble than they could handle growing up. After his mother up and left, taking his younger sister with her, Jughead spent a lot of time experimenting with hard drugs and partying more than his body could take. It had been Toni that had saved him from his own death one night when he went too far and he owed her his entire life.

FP had taken a liking to the strong willed girl and Jughead knew that she was the daughter he wished he could have. After Jellybean left with his mom, she cut off all ties with Jughead and his father. It had hurt FP just as much as it had hurt him, probably more, and Jughead knew that his dad never really recovered from it.

All in all, Toni was like family to them. Which was why she had offered to help them out as much as she could once she found out just how the Jones’ made all their money. She owned an mechanic shop out in Queens and had let a few of Jughead’s guys use it as a cover for a job. Jughead and Reggie owned a huge nightclub in New York City so they were covered. As for the other guys, as long as they kept up with the logs at Toni’s, it seemed like they were making a living doing honest work and there was no reason to suspect them of anything; and if anyone caught wind of it, there was no evidence to back it up.

There’s the loud bang of a gun and then the sound of a body hitting the ground and then nothing. Jughead stands and waits until he hears the sound of Reggie’s footsteps coming up the stairs.

“That guy fucking bled everywhere,” Reggie says in disgust. “Look at me!” Jughead turns around and sure enough, Reggie is coated in blood. It’s all over his clothes and his face.

“You better not get that shit on my floor, man! Why are you even up here? Get back down there and get his body out of the basement before he stinks up the entire house.”

Reggie just rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t step onto Jughead’s carpet so at least there’s that.

“Where the fuck is Junior?” Junior is what Reggie refers to Joaquin as, deeming him the younger version of Jughead.

“Out to Toni’s, we need to make sure the logs are good to go for this month.”

“Then get Reid and Michael down here,” Reggie tells him, referring to the other soldiers. “I’m not cleaning up this shit.”

Jughead goes off  in search of the two kids. He’s not as surprised as he should be when he finds them hanging out by the bar in the living room. Reid’s mixing drinks while Michael cuts up lines of cocaine. Jughead doesn’t mess with drugs anymore, but he’s not going to stop them from doing them. He can’t help the way his fingers twitch at the sight of the substance, though.

“Go help Reggie get rid of Ruiz’s body,” he tells the two kids. They jump in surprise at his voice and are quick to scramble themselves together before running off towards the parlor. He’s used to his presence scaring people and while it used to make him sad, now he lives off of it.

He decides that he’s done for the day and heads up the huge spiral case in the foyer, to his bedroom. It’s been a long day and he deserves a shower. He has a bit of blood on his hands, literally, and it’s starting to gross him out a bit.

He strips himself of all his clothes before turning the showerhead to its hottest setting and stepping under the water. It feels good against his skin as it releases the tension that’s been building up in his body. He’s quick to shampoo his hair before he begins to run his black loofa over his body. He’d never used a loofa before but Reggie swore it was life changing so he’d finally given in. It sure made shit easier that’s for damn sure.

After he’s done with the shower, he dries off and slips into a pair of sweats with a plain black t-shirt. As much as he wishes he could just go to bed, he knows he can’t just yet. He needs to make sure the logs are in order with Toni and then he needs to call his dad and fill him in on everything that happened today. He doesn’t know how he’ll take it. Jughead might be in charge while his dad is out of town, but FP still ran everything for now. Jughead’s supposed to run stuff like this by him, but he acted impulsively on this one. He couldn’t help it, though. Jonathan had disrespected him and the family in the worst way possible. Jughead had to teach him a lesson. You didn’t screw around on the Jones’ family and live to tell about it, especially not while Jughead was running shit. He didn’t regret a single thing he did today, but he knew he probably should have checked in with the Boss first.

He walks downstairs and sees that Joaquin is already back. However, he looks panicked and Reggie is glaring down at him. Jughead already knows that whatever happened at Toni’s wasn’t good.

“What?” He asks as soon as he gets in front of them. “Tell me what happened.”

“Don’t freak out,” Joaquin says and Reggis snorts and mutters a ‘yeah right’ under his breath. “Toni couldn’t give me the logs.”

“Why the fuck not?” Jughead snaps, his patience growing thin.

Joaquin mumbles something under his breath and Jughead leans down.

“What was that?” He asks. “I didn’t hear that. Speak up.”

“Thecopshavethem.”

The words come out quickly and jumbled together, but Jughead’s still able to understand them. Although he wishes he didn’t. He clenches his fists, trying not to lash out at the kid.

“Excuse me?”

“Speak up, Junior,” Reggie says, although he’s smirking so Jughead knows that he’d known about this beforehand.

“The cops have them,” he says louder and Jughead has to refrain from hitting something.

“Why the fuck do the cops have the logs?”

“Toni said that they started sniffing around a while back but she didn’t think anything of it, because it’s not like they had anything to go off of. Seems like not everyone was logging in their work hours though and the cops started looking at work hours versus pay grade and said it didn’t match up. She thinks they’ve been looking at us for a while now, ever since the drug deal in Brooklyn.”

Fucking Brooklyn. Reggie and one of the new guys, Mario, were supposed to go pick up some drugs from the Andrews’ clan. The Jones’ hardly ever did work with the Andrews’, too much bad blood between the families, but this one was a dire need for them. Everything was going good until it turned out that one of Andrews’ men was really a fucking nark. Reggie had the kid dead before he could even reach for his phone to call the cops.

They had gotten rid of the body, but it didn’t help that the guy wore a fucking wire so he knew everything that was going on and so did whoever his superiors were. They hadn’t caught them in the act though, so they didn’t have a case. Apparently they had enough though.

“I thought you took care of that,” Jughead says with a pointed glare at Reggie.

“Don’t look at me! It’s not my fault that Andrews’ men had a fucking nark on their side. Guess we should have known, huh?”

Jughead runs his hands over his face in frustration. In all honesty, this isn’t really that big of a deal. It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s had their eye on them, but it’s always a fucking hassle to deal with. It’s something that he shouldn’t have to deal with at all.

“Do we know which cop it was?”

“Keller.”

Jughead rolls his eyes. Kevin Keller has been a thorn in his side for as long as he can remember. Before him, it was his father that was always giving them trouble. Apple didn’t fall too far from the tree it seemed.

“I can take care of Keller,” Jughead says. He’s a soft cop. He wants to be on top, wants to prove to the world that he’s not as soft as he looks, but it’s a front. The kid isn’t a problem; he’s hardly a worry at all. “Anything else you wanna tell me?”

“That’s it.”

Jughead nods before walking off.

“Where you going?” Reggie calls out to his retreating back.

“To fucking sleep!”

His mood has diminished and he needs his bed. The world can wait.