#Cassandra took his fucking claws!!

[icarusredwings]

Widdle Wolvie 2

Busting through the door, Wade stared, panting and pissed. Seeing his husband in her lap made him even madder. That bald, husbandb stealing bitch!!

The look on Logan's face though was different, fearful but semi protective as he looked up at Cassandra, only to let out a pathetic growl, like Simba roaring at the Hyenas.

Pausing, Wade blinked. "Hold on hold up hold up. Ha!! Is that the best you got, Peanut? Now come on, I don't know what she did to you but let's fuck this hairless cat up, yeah Wovie?"

Glancing at him with such wide eyes as he watched Wade draw his two katanas then up to her, letting out another small growl towards him.

"...Wolvie..? Logan? Come on.. Scratch her. Bite her. Skewer her for gods sake! Don't look at me like that. Im not the bad guy here!" He starts as Ms. Nova only crosses her leg over the other, smirking as her gross long fingers ran over the kneeling man's scalp. Gently scratching it, Logan.. smiled. Nuzzling closer into her.

"I always wondered why my idiotic dear brothers preferred this one... So... Easy to break. So easy to tame. So easy to teach. Isn't that right, James?"

The man nodded, unsure actually of what he was agreeing to. He would never let her sit here so cockily and mock Charles' death.

Wade's heart broke.

"What did you do to him!?" He demanded.

"Oh, nothing. Just a bit of retraining is all. You'd be shocked how quick it was. Like snapping a pencil. James, Baby boy, could you be a dear and help mommy?"

With excitement he nodded.

"Good boy. So obedient. Just think of the danger I hold control over now is better than drugs. James be a sweetie and go kill that man will you? Mommy will be back. Tataa. Now play nice boys." She calls, disappearing like a coward.

The dream of fighting and trying not to hit Logan but also avoid his punches wasn't too difficult. It was the fact that she had left him defenseless... Cassandra had declawed his kitty...

Sitting up, Wade panted as he quickly looked around, only to find him standing over him.

"AHh- For fucks SAKE Logan!! You almost got stabbed in your fucking balls!"

"My... what?" His head tilts innocently.

"....Nothing. Just- what are you doing? Shouldn't you be tired? You were at the park for 6 hours!" He complained, flopping back down into the stained mattress with a heavy sigh.

"....When is she going to come back?"

"Wha? whose gonna- Oh! Fuck no! She isn't coming back...( i think).. You're safe here, Buddy. I promise." He puts out his pinky as Logan, the 400-pound 6'2 bearded, muscley man stood there, clutching a stuffed Wolverine as he stared at the pinky nervously.

"...Can I see Mommy Cassie?"

"NO! No cassie! And she's not your mommy! Stop calling her that." He grunted. This was the 5th time that he's asked about her. "And why do you care so much, huh!? She hurt you, Logan! Why would you-...oh...Oh no, Pup, I.. I didn't mean to yell.." he says, watching as he began to tear up, pulling Fluffy closer to him as he stepped back from Wade.

"...I miss mommy C-cassie.." He repeated, his eyes still glazed over, signifying that he wasn't right in the mind. Those once lake coloured eyes now grey and filled with water.

He shook his head, gripping the edge of the bed as he took a deep breath. "No.. She tricked you. She took away your claws, Honey badger.. and she left you. She's... She's a bad mommy.."

God this was much harder then he thought. And exhausting. No wonder why Logan was so tired after watching over him.

"Do you understand?" He asks him, taking his hand, gently pressing over the scabs that formed between his knuckles. "You understand that, don't you?"

Pulling a hand away, the man frowned as more tears fell. "...Mommy Cassie said you'd be a liar.."

Starting to walk off, both men were upset for reasons they both understood all too well.

"Wait! Logan!"

"That's not my name!!"

He shouts back, trying his best to hide in an obvious spot. Who's Logan??

Crying, he wonders if what Wade said was true...

Was Mommy Cassie a liar? She said Wade would try to hurt him, but so far, he's been so nice... who was lying?

If only he had some kind of power to tell.. maybe he could sniff it? No. That was silly.. he wouldn't ever be able to smell the difference between a lie and the truth... right?

Thinking about what would happen if Cassandra came back for revenge and borderline reset Logan's mental age in order to easily munipulate, but it backfires because Wade will be damned if hes gonna let another bald bitch steal his man. Finding home au what if.

Wade: Heeeyyy

Ororo: What did you do now?

Wade: About that-

Logan, Fully sprinting over: Mr. Wade I found a really cool stick that looks like a gun and I know you like guns so I brought it to you!

Ororo:....

Wade: Oh way to go, Pup! Up top! Down low! From behind! Yeah!!

Logan: *giggles and double high fives him* Im gonna go find more! *runs off in wolverine*

Ororo: ....Waaaaddeee

Wade: I know, I know! That's what I wanted to talk to you about. *puts stick gun in holster* So anyway this witch got mad at me and now he's like tiny on the inside.

Piotr, whos being nosy: Oh was that my sister? Sorry she's PMSing... what ever that means. Mom said it all the time.

Wade: Oh no no- A metaphorical witch. No, Wanda's great. You bring her chocolate then.

Logan: *comes back* I found a sword one!

Wade: Oh my god, I love you so much. You're such a good stick finder. Oh yes, you are! My widdle wild wolvie! Such a good boy!

Logan: *giggles while having his face smooshed*

Wade: But aw no I need two of them...

Logan: On it! *runs off on a mission*

Wade: Heh... kids. But anyway. Sooo... do you have someone who can fix this ooorrrr am I going to have to divorce my husband and become a single father to a 200 year old man?

[sparklingmineraltequila]

American Wasteland

Note: Sorry this took so long. I moved city and pretty much have a new life. Still obsessed with Rust, though, so some shit sticks

Warnings: 18+, talk of war, alcohol, drugs, sex work, talks of past domestic violence, smut, just genuine misery between the two of them

America venerates suffering, that's what Travis had always told Rust. Sacrifice isn't pure if it isn't coated in a blood so red and so hot that your family can smear over their words, for centuries to come, excusing their comfort, their indulgence, their ignorance. They are afforded that comfort off of slaughter beyond their imagining. At least, that's what had happened after 'nam. A hero for his fucking country was the propaganda they had fed Travis; squash the bug of communism and, along with it, massacre millions of innocents, because what is America without its sons who are willing to fight for it.? Yeah, a fucking hero for a father, who's night terrors kept both of them up at night and who kept his engraved lighter saying High Speed Low Drag in his hunting jacket, always. That same lighter that Rust had used to light his first cigarette: rolled up flimsily in newspaper with the leftover tobacco and tufts of filter that he'd scraped from Travis' cigarette butts. The same lighter that Cassandra is now using to light her Marlboro Gold, hands shaking,

'Rust. That's all I get, huh? Not even a fucking surname?!' she spits, through a shaky exhale.

'I ain't gonna give you my surname. The less you know about me, the better,' Rust says back, his stoic demeanour attempting to mask that churning in his stomach. One that he has realised isn't for him but for Cassandra.

'Is Rust even your actual name?'

'You want a fuckin' social security number, too?' Rust drawls dryly.

'Don't you-Don't,' Cassandra's head shoots up from where it's been in her hands, her shaking tone now gaining a momentum of uncontrollable anger, 'Jesus-fuck. You men are all the fucking same. I-I ain't staying in this fucking place, anymore. Fuck it, fuck you, fuck every goddamn person in this wasteland of a place!'

Rust regards her with an even look,

'You ain't going anywhere. Not tonight. You ain't in the right state.'

'You ain't my daddy, motherfucker.'

'Goddamn right, I ain't but I'm also the only person you have who doesn't want to take advantage of you. So, hedge your bets tomorrow, baby, but tonight you're stayin' here,' Rust's voice is lapidary, stopping Cassandra in her tracks as she starts to shove clothes and books into her duffel bag.

'I said: you ain't my daddy and you sure as hell ain't keeping me in a place where I don't want to be,' Cassandra says in a tone equally as gelid, throwing her duffel bag over her shoulder. That elegant, fine-boned shoulder tinged with its bronzed hue; some of the love bites that Rust had left a few nights ago decorating Cassandra's collarbone. Rust fears that the sentiment festering under his skin is nostalgia. A nostalgia that scares him and, then, makes him cruel,

'No, Cassandra. I ain't your daddy cause all he did for you was get heavy handed with you and cut you up with his empty liquor bottles when he really wanted to teach you about mouthin' off at him.'

The colour drains from Cassandra's face,

'How the fuck do you know about that?' a sudden spark of spite reaches her as she sneers, 'Pull my file in your spare time, huh?'

Rust grabs her arm and yanks up her tank top, ignoring her yelp. He nods to the fine, white line along her ribcage,

'I ain't a fuckin' idiot, Cassandra. Skateboardin' fall, my ass,' Rust snarls, holding her ribcage with a calloused hand. Cassandra viciously claws at his hand, tears threatening to spill from her eyes,

'Get off! Get the fuck off!' and Rusts lets her go cause in that moment, the smooth, sultry cadence made slightly husky from after-sex cigarettes reverts back to the pleading of a little girl. Cassandra's words are devoid of any real bite, Rust notes. All that rage has been stripped away and all that she is left with is the panic of a little girl's voice turning into burning sobs in her throat; the stale cookies in her stomach turning sour from terror. There's that wide eyed looked, too. He can see it as Cassandra hastily covers herself back up and rearranges the duffel bag back onto her shoulder.

'Fuck you, Rust,' she says his name like it's a poison that she needs to spit from her mouth before it corrodes the flesh into a pulpy mess. Corrosion. Rust. That's what he is, it's what he does because sometimes corrosion is needed to get to the bone of things; to see what everyone else in too caught up in their delusions or affectations about fucking Natural Law to truly comprehend.

'Don't you fu-Cassandra!' Rust's voice boils up from his chest in a rough bark, watching Cassandra explode out of the trailer door, almost stumble down the rusted metal steps and collapse into the red dirt. He thinks he can't get any angrier until he realises that she's pocketed the keys to his Harley, on her way out, and sees her bolt over to where it's parked, behind the trailer. A cloud of dust rises up as the bike rumbles out of neutral and Cassandra desperately revs on the accelerator; her legs hardly off of the ground before the Harley tears away. In other circumstances, the dramatics of the exit would have made Rust scoff and chalk it up to youth's thirst for impact: the flurry of a scene. Not now. Not when this kid is tearing down a highway in a bike that doesn't have enough gas to make it to Liberty, let alone wherever the fuck Cassandra thinks she's headed. A kid, Rust thinks, A fuckin' kid that I've pulled into the abyss with me. Rust calls her a kid now but knows that when he finds her, he'll treat her like she's grown. A sentiment that propels him into his truck, cursing to himself as the engine splutters.

It doesn't take long to track Cassandra down; there's only one road from the trailer park that lead to the freeway. No doubt, where Cassandra is headed to. Ride fast and hard, and get the fuck out when the heat starts to sting: the classic cocktail of self-preservation cooked up by kids who've already been burned. There are too many of them down here, below that Mason-Dixie line. Rust would know. Fuck, if he hasn't spent his entire career on the force witnessing the aftermath. Drugs, abuses, assaults, homicides: you name it. The abuser becomes the abused; Nietzsche's infinite return has those poor kids falling flat on their faces into the nice shit storm of generational maladjustments that their parents left for them. Shattered dreams, skin sucked dry from mosquitos, teeth black and rotting from sweet tea, underneath that sticky southern sun. Rust wants to believe that it's an innate sense of duty towards these kids is why he's currently violating every Highway Code there is. And for part of him, it is. The other part, however, won't allow himself the comfort of what he knows is a lie. What started as pure sex appeal has started to morph into something deeper, messier.

The bike has even less gas than he thought as, the first Texaco that he sees, has Cassandra next to the pumps trying to wrench open the bike's gas lock. She wants to be caught, Rust knows, Wants me to chase after her, show her I give a shit. If she didn't, she would've gotten a hell of a lot more reckless. He watches her, almost with pity, as her pulls into the gas station and slows the truck to a halt, the breaks groaning with their lack of galvanisation. Rust shoves the car door open, his leather boots landing heavily on tepid asphalt,

'Get your ass over here,' his voice rough, as he strides over to Cassandra.

'I told you to get the fuck away from me,' she whips around, her fury making her abandon her previous task.

'Get in the fuckin' truck, Cassandra. I ain't doing the whole scorned boyfriend act for these nosey fuckers,' Rust deadpans, his ice blue gaze conveying to her just how fucking pissed he is.

'Did you hear me, motherfucker? I said to go back to your junkie biker brothers, find some hooker so that you can fuck out your half-baked emotional needs and leave me the hell alone,' Cassandra says with such venom dripping from her mouth that she almost fully means it; warm milk out of hand, she resorts to spite. Not fully, though: Rust can see the tears glazing her eyes and that's enough for him. A firm hand comes to grasp Cassandra's arm and put her in what is practically a headlock as Rust drags her to the truck. Cassandra's duffel bag slips off of her shoulder as Rust holds her firmly against his chest, bicep right up against the column of her throat. Some old man up from his pump, spit collecting at the corners of his mouth as he calls over,

'Everything alright over there?' Not from the area, Rust notes. Not solely due to the licence plate and milky arms but the slight wariness of his expression. A man unacquainted with the imperatives that the arrid terrain commands. The violence. Cassandra takes it upon herself to drop the unwanted attention as she chokes out,

'They don't teach you to mind your own fucking business in Iowa?!' the rage in her voice stemming from a deep humiliation in how she must look, Rust's arm tight against her neck. Rust takes in the man's mortification and grits into her ear,

'Shut the fuck up.'

He opens the truck door and shoves her in, slamming the door and heading over to the driver's side to catch her as she climbs out. Rust concedes her a heavy slap to the face before getting in, essentially crowding her back to the passenger's side. As he starts the ignition and pulls out of the gas station, Cassandra is eerily quiet, tears leaving hot tracks of salt and mascara on her cheeks. Rust debates on whether it's shame at getting caught or just pure desolation at, once again, finding herself completely fucked over, until he feels his jeans' waistband go slack. He feels the air hit that sweaty patch of back where the barrel of his .38 S&W was pressed and licks the inside of his cheek in an almost smirk. There she is, Rust thinks, knowing full well Cassandra's loathing of acquiescence as she points the gun at his temple, sweat curling his caramel hairs.

'Pull over or, I swear to God, I'll put your brains all over your goddamn car windows,' Cassandra's voice is firm but Rust sees her fingers trembling. Red. Her nails are lacquered the same colour as a Shirley Temple, poised on cool gun metal of the safety.

'You don't want to shoot me, Cass,' Rust says, his tone flat.

'Oh, I don't?' Cassandra scoffs.

'Nah, you wanna make a fuckin' scene so that I'll burst into tears and beg for your fuckin' forgiveness or some shit. That ain't gonna work on me, baby. I'm around too many pussies who ain't man enough to pull a fuckin' trigger, as it is. I can tell when someone's bluffin'. And you, Cass, I can sure as hell tell when you're bluffin'.'

'How are you so sure?'

Rust looks at a small trail leading off of the main road before sparing a sideways glance,

'That gun ain't even cocked.'

Cassandra narrows her eyes and pulls the hammer back,

'Happy?'

Rust steers the truck off of the road, onto the rocky country road, before stopping and turning to her,

'You wanna go? Go.'

Cassandra's gaze falters before she contrives it into that practiced indifference,

'You're kicking me out?' she says, her voice so fragile that Rust almost feels bad for putting her in this situation but tough shit: wisdom comes hard.

'Nah, just callin' your bluff. You got 30 seconds to go, if you want to,' Rust says, not even facing her but staring straight out ahead.

Cassandra stares at him, lowering the gun, and looks around helplessly. The tears come back, not when she looks at Rust's stony expression or the destitute surroundings, but when she looks at her duffel bag. All her life fitting into some beat up gym bag and, now, she's about to throw away the one thing that can protect her. A gun isn't shit compared to his hand on her ass and his fingerprints bruising her thighs; not to these fucking animals. Rust gives her the mercy of two minutes of silence before speaking,

'You ain't movin',' he says more as a statement than a question.

'Don't mock me,' Cassandra murmurs out.

'I ain't mockin' you.'

'You know that I ain't gonna go. I don't think I'm ever gonna be able to.'

'You can and you will, eventually.'

'I ain't sure, Cra-Rust. You ain't either.'

'Use Crash. I don't need you gettin' confused and fuckin' this up,' Rust says, gruffly.

'You sure that's it?'

'Am I sure 'what's' it?' irritation starting to creep into his tone.

'That the reason you don't want me using your real name is cause I'll jeopardise your cover.'

'I thought you were smarter than that, Cass.'

'What the fuck's that supposed to mean?' Cassandra suddenly straightens, her voice hard but still slightly tremulous.

'I thought you were smarter than to get your emotions mixed up with what is gonna keep your ass outta the crossfire.'

It's a low blow but it hits home. Cassandra looks down at her scraped knees, gravel and raw skin, before looking up again; her voice now a whisper,

'Do you feel sorry for me?'

Rust clenches his jaw, the simple juvenility of the question making him feel sick. He knows neither of them will be able to bear whatever tidal wave of sentiment is about to breach their carefully instated distance. The partial revelation of his true identity has already been more of an unmasking than he can stomach; especially to someone he cares so deeply for as Cassandra. Her knowledge of 'Rust' throws whatever the fuck they are doing with each other into something that goes beyond sex and protection, and Rust can begin to feel everything veering off track. He won't allow her to expose herself to him like this, not when he's already emotionally fucked her over so much, today. So, Rust finally turns to her and says,

'Take off your top.'

Cassandra falters, her voice still that hoarse whisper as she ask,

'What?'

Rust wills himself to turn his pity into scorn,

'Did I fuckin' stutter? Take off your top. Those shorts, too,' he says, his tone unnervingly even and made rough from his Camels. Cassandra stares at him for a moment before indulging him: shirt discarded first before she lifts her hips and awkwardly shimmies out of them. Rust notices her holding her side, her hand cradling the scar; something she's never really done until now. Not until Rust had forced her shame into the searing white light of recognition. He knows what Cassandra must be thinking, grouping him into that homogenous, male blob of ill-intent: her next job, her next dance, her next humiliation. He tries to pretend that it doesn't slightly tear him the fuck up when she looks at him with those eyes, now cold.

'What now?' Cassandra asks, sitting up with her spine long and upright, shoulders terse.

Rust pats his lap,

'Come here.'

'Rust, I-'

'I ain't ever remember sayin' you could call me Rust, Cass,' he says harshly, completely disregarding whatever appeal Cassandra's about to make over how to treat her. Pretty words that don't mean shit to Rust nor to this godforsaken part of the country. A place where women bring guns in their purses to hookups and there are wards for the babies born hooked onto opioids, has no use for floral, storybook sex. Here, it's fast and it's hard and it's painful and it's often paid for. Cassandra knows this type of sex, or rather its corruption. So, she shuts up and sits in Rust's lap; swallowing the bitter pill of docility.

'Move 'em to the side,' Rust taps the waistband of her panties with his knuckles. For a moment, a light tinge comes across Cassandra's collarbones at the crassness of the act. She hooks her fingers into the waistband, moving to pull them down, before Rust grabs her wrist,

'I say to take 'em off, Cass?'

'No,' Cassandra murmurs, trying to asses if Rust is pissed beyond belief or on some pretty loopy downers.

'So, you can hear me. I was thinkin' otherwise, given some of the shit you've managed to pull,' that dangerous mix of anger and worry begins to seep into Rust's tone. He can feel her wet heat through the lace of her panties; almost disappointed that she can get turned on by this shit. Old habits die hard, Rust thinks, lighting a cigarette and leaning back into his seat,

'Undo my belt.'

Cassandra stares at him, holding unflinching eye contact as she unbuckles him and unzips his fly. It's like a game of fucking chicken: which of them is willing to degrade the other more, for the sake of self-preservation. Rust exhales a slow stream of smoke watching Cassandra's thighs tremble from the exertion of holding her position. He quirks an eyebrow,

'You gonna tap out on me, baby?'

'No.'

'You wanted this shit that bad, didn't you, Cass?' Rust says, the forcefulness in his tone coming out of the pit in his stomach when he thinks what he's done to her.

'I did. I wanted this shit. Don't paint me out to be some dumbass little girl who opened her legs to the first man who reminded her of her daddy. That ain't what this is. I'm tougher than that, you know I am,' her voice starting to tremble again. Her hands absentmindedly wrapped around her midsection., as if to protect herself from the next laceration.

'You want it? Then move those fuckin' panties to the side.'

Cassandra stares at Rust with that fucking stupid bravado of rapacity, before gripping the crotch of them to the side; the tepid truck air mixing with the heady scent of her arousal and Rust's cigarette smoke,

'Go on. Fuck me like a man.'

Rust looks up at her while he pulls down his boxers, before grabbing her bruised hips and slamming her onto him. Not giving a fuck about the sharp, shuddering inhale. The lamb must learn to run with the wolves and Cassandra is far from a lamb. Especially as she is now, gulping down her whimpers of pain, desperately rocking her hips against his coarse hair to stimulate her little nub. She buries her head into the crook of his neck, nose rubbing against his jugular as Rust lands a firm slap on her ass,

'Don't get sentimental on me now, Cass,' he manages to grit out, feeling her arousal literally drip down him, 'Fuck am I gonna do with a weak lil' thing, huh?'

Cassandra tries to nod, her eyes squeezed shut and her groans muffled into the leather of Rust's jacket. Rust wraps his arms around her, holding her in a vice grip for the third time today, all of which have been some form of degradation or excavation of the dirty, nasty shit that Cassandra keeps hidden under sultry, bedroom eyes and that cutthroat tongue. At least this time, the aggression of the act is more tangible; neither of them are allowed any delusions. Not with how Cassandra's spit smears against Rust's stubble when he fucks into her especially hard or the cutting of taught lace on her hipbone or Rust's still lit cigarette burning dangerously close to Cassandra's dark waves. Apt symbolism, Rust thinks, as she angles her head to inhale from the tip; eyes starting to roll slightly at the mixture of in adverted friction of her bundle of nerves, and Rust's angry, frantic pace. She turns to look him right, as she leans her head in him, exhaling the smoke right into his mouth. Rust catches some powdery grey wisps, shoving Cassandra down once more onto him. As she groans, her hands never loosening, Rust leans in to mutter into her ear,

'You never fuckin' learn. Do you, baby?'

[everytaylorswiftsongisaboutcats]

Surprise Song o’ Clock: Toronto Night 5

Dress: Koi fish/pond

Guitar:

Ours x the last great american dynasty

“They say she was seen on occasion, pacing the rocks staring out at the midnight sea, and in a feud with her neighbor she stole his dog and dyed it key lime green, 50 years is a long time Holiday House sat quietly on that beach. Free of women with madness, their men and bad habits, and then it was bought by me — And it's not theirs to speculate, if it's wrong, and your hands are tough but they are where mine belong, and I'll fight their doubt and give you faith With this song for you — Who knows, if I never showed up, what could've been? There goes the loudest woman this town has ever seen! I had a marvelous time ruining everything… The stakes are high, the water's rough, but this love is ours”

Piano:

Cassandra x mad woman x I Did Something Bad

“When the first stone's thrown there's screaming, in the streets there's a raging riot. When it's "Burn the bitch," they're shrieking. When the truth comes out, it's quiet… And there’s nothing like a mad woman… So, they killed Cassandra first 'cause she feared the worst, and tried to tell the town… what a shame she went mad… So, they filled my cell with snakes, I regret to say, "Do you believe me now?".. And there’s nothing like a mad… woman — What did you think I'd say to that? Does a scorpion sting when fighting back? They strike to kill and you know I will… you know I will… what do you sing on your drive home? Do you see my face in the neighbor's lawn? Does she smile? Or does she mouth, "Fuck you forever"? Every time you call me crazy I get more crazy, what about that? And when you say I seem angry, I get more angry… So, they killed Cassandra first 'cause she feared the worst and tried to tell the town, And there's nothin' like a mad woman… I regret to say, "Do you believe me now?" What a shame she went mad, you made her like that… And you'll poke that bear 'til her claws come out and you find something to wrap your noose around… They knew, they knew, they knew the whole time, that I was onto something. The family, the pure greed, the Christian chorus line they all said nothing. Blood's thick but nothing like a payroll. Bet they never spared a prayer for my soul. You can mark my words that I said it first, in a morning warning, no one heard — So, I’m takin' my time, takin' my time, 'cause you took everything from me 'Cause you took everything from me. Watchin' you climb, watchin' you climb, over people like me. The master of spin has a couple side flings, good wives always know, she should be mad she’d be scathing like me but — I did something bad… what a shame she went mad… they say I did something bad… you can mark my words that I said it first, in a mourning warning, no one heard. Then, why's it feel so good? I regret to say, "Do you believe me now?" What a shame she went mad… they say I did something bad… do you believe me now? You made her like that. I did something bad. When the first stone's thrown there's screaming, in the streets, there's a raging riot. When it's "Burn the bitch, " they're shrieking. You’ll poke that bear till her claws come out, till I did something bad, you made her like that, do you believe me now? When the truth comes out… it's quiet… I did something bad… it's so quiet… Do you believe me now?”

[tiredofsatansbullshit]

AO3 Fic Rec List 1 - DC - Batfam

These are mostly (probably all) Jason Todd fics. Also, this is my first time doing something like this so sorry if there's any problems with formatting and stuff.

Homeward Bound by SpaceWall

Globe-trotting, League-fighting hero duo Black Swan and Red Hood are up for admission to the Justice League. If only Batman could figure out who they were.

This is an AU where Jason, Cassandra and Damian met in the League together. Jason still becomes Red Hood and Cass becomes Black Swan. They travel around the world fighting crime (but mostly take down the League).

2 Chapters, 12 074 Words, Complete.

You Don't Have To Stay by I_Have_To_Get_Off_This_Planet

Jason would very much appreciate it if everyone could leave him the fuck alone while he's dying. Except, not really.

Jason is sick and being his usual fanon angsty self, tells everyone to fuck off but Bruce and Dick are there for him.

1 Chapter, 2 277 Words, Complete.

How to warm up a Jason Todd by Harmonique

At this point, Jason is just attracted to Gotham's harbor

On patrol, Jason ends up taking a dip in the Gotham harbor. Luckily Dick and Bruce get to him in time and bring him back to the Manor, where the whole family is waiting to keep him warm.

1 Chapter, 1157 Words, Complete

You Came, You Called by Anduril_Narsil549

"I can't...can't do...two days. Don't make me," he plead. "Please, please don't make me do two days..."

"Two days of what?"

"Don't be...an idiot...Tim," he panted as the claws grabbed him again, clamoring to pull his mind down into the depths of agony worse than his body could throw at him. They dug deep, and a cry escaped his lips.

"Jason, two days of what?" the voice demanded again. But he didn't hear.

He could only see the glint of metal. Feel the shifting of soil through stinging fingers. Breathe more dark earth than air. Taste blood on his lips--

Jason is having flashbacks to being back in the warehouse in Ethiopia during a storm and accidentally calls Bruce in his panic instead of Tim. Bruce rushes to comfort him.

2 Chapters, 3 702 Words, Complete

Before I Go by Anduril_Narsil549

Tim gets a late night call from Jason and overhears words never meant for him.

An alternate possibility for You Came, You Called where Jason does actually call Tim. Tim rushes to Jason's safe house and decides the best thing to do would be to call Bruce.

2 Chapters, 4 862 Words, Complete.

Cold is the Night Without You Here by ace_ing_it

Originally, the cloak wasn’t a part of Batman’s ensemble. At least, the actual first costume didn’t have a cloak. But he’s rather happy that he ended up having one anyways, it was especially funny to him to hide something under his cloak and wait to see how long it took to have them notice.

He didn’t object to his kids hiding underneath it either.

Or: Three times Batman’s Robins hid under his cloak separately and one time they did together.

I cannot give a better description than that so yeah.

1 Chapter, 4 792 Words. Complete.

let me walk to the top of the big night sky by YouAreTheBrightest234 (TransLucas)

only on rare occasions does Batman get an emergency signal from Red Hood and when he does, it's never good.

Jason gets badly injured on patrol and Bruce rushes to get his son back to the BatCave

1 Chapter, 1 260 Words, Complete.

Dad, I'm Dying by CreamCheeseBagel

Jason’s chin droops to meet his chest. He’s going to go out with a whimper this time, not a bang.

Dad, I’m dying Jason thinks, mouth silently moving around the words. I thought I’d be okay dying alone. I’ve done it before. But I’m not, I’m really not.

‘Hood. I need to keep this line open. Status.’ It’s not even a question but a remark.

(Alternative ending added; Jason lives)

Jason is badly injured on patrol and makes his way to his apartment where he collapses on the floor. Unable to move much, he calls Bruce. First chapter has a more open/ambiguous ending but the second chapter shows Jason recovering in the Batcave.

2 Chapters, 1 881 Words, Complete.

[vigilskeep]

im playing as a reaver in da2 for the first time and i'm interested in the devour's animation where hawke reaches out with his hand and then seems to sweep the "life force" near his mouth, with blood and everything. i've seen ppl joking before that reaver hawke bites ppl (which sounded silly), but the idea of them tearing out a piece of enemy with a bare hand and Then munch it seems much scarier to me smh lol...

losing my mind okay so i went to check the dai animations to see if they add anything to this and apparently dai reaver just gives you, like, a giant set of fucking magical claws to sweep through people. okay. sure. i’ll add that to my worldview. why not

anyway. yeah it’s never very clear so a lot of it is up for hc, as far as i can tell. i historically have leaned into the whole biting people most literal interpretation because i think cannibalism is entertaining but nobody’s beholden to that. the animation involves a sort of wrenching hand and a blood effect. technically it’s only ever said that reavers feed on the “essence” or “life force” of their enemies. you could read it as them tearing out a piece of their enemies physically or somehow being able to grab hold of and wrench out life force like it’s a physical substance; i’m guessing they took and ran with that with the dai design, the idea of being able to cut through something more ah essential than flesh. reavers are supposed to be able to feed off pain and death in general

i tend to go for more literal interpretations because of the reaver obsession with blood—the reaver trainer in dai goes on abt how “blood is life”, and regardless of how the power works, you at least definitely have to drink dragon blood to get it, and cassandra talks about reavers in her family using “more and more” so this is probably something you have to keep doing—and dragon age’s obsession with blood as power in general. a reaver in the live action web series dragon age redemption gets sharp teeth as part of the frightening appearance ability so that’s implied as well. for me it just makes it all a bit more visceral and dramatic and emphasises the animalistic change that reavers are supposed to undergo. that being said you could do something pretty visceral w the whole life force thing u just gotta be a bit inventive i suppose

[justnerdy15]

Find the Word/Manuscript Search Tag

thanks for the tag @spuddlespud! sorry this took so long!

hello: (Heiress of the Night)

Mom hums and she gives a quick smile. “That sounds like a wonderful idea. Something original and just for her.” “Hello,” Evangeline says, waving her hand a bit. “I’m right here. No need to talk like I’m not.” Laurent laughs, a bright, tinkling noise, and pats Evangeline on the cheek. “Our apologies, little Madame,” she says, the words prickling like an insult.

Welcome: (Heiress of the Night)

“Lady Clark, Garnier Hall welcomes you and yours.” He holds out a gloved hand which Safta accepts gracefully, stepping out of the car with ease. Aunt Cassandra and Mom follow suit — Aunt Cass dropping her keys into another valet’s waiting hands — and their doors shut, leaving Evangeline alone in the car.

Goodbye: (I'm sorry I left but it was for the best (but it never felt right) aka TLOU AU 3)

“They’ll be asleep for hours. I’ll do it outside,” Henry continues, oblivious to the distraught clawing at Joel’s throat. “On the other side of the motel. You’ll have to look for it though. Sorry.”

“You should tell him goodbye,” Joel says quietly. “Don’t go without saying anything.”

Henry shakes his head, lips pursing tightly, as a sob slips out. “No. No, I can’t —”

Morning: (I still have love for you (Do you still love me too?) 911 fanfic)

It turns out that God actually hates him because he does run into someone. What the fuck? Who goes shopping at two o’clock in the morning? Besides him, of course, but there’s extenuating circumstances at work here. 

Day: (Come Back Home)

The house looks just like it did the day she left. Worn cracked brick, rough gravel driveway, patchy grass, shit cluttered on the porch, and pale blue curtains hanging in the windows. The only major difference is the large tree stump where a towering white oak used to stand.

[thatzeta]

"F-Fuck..."

It wasn't as if the werewolf thought herself invincible.

It wasn't as if she thought herself immortal.

"...ngh..."

But--

Dots of crimson littered the floor as she trekked back through the cellar.

--she just thought she'd have more time.

She'd been making her rounds about the castle when she'd heard some grunting from the cellar.

Apparently, there'd been an intruder everyone was fussing over.

She'd seen him. Seen the weapons he'd possessed. Seen the blood covering him.

She couldn't let him near them.

Her pack.

Her mates.

Her family.

So, she'd charged and taken him down into the bloody floor of the basement.

They'd tussled and tangled in a flurry of fists and blood until the wolf had finally turned--the only good that came from Mother Miranda's experiments--and used her much larger form to subdue him.

She'd managed to incapacitate him, biting his legs off.

He'd gotten a few shots in.

She'd knocked him out with a firm slam against the pavement.

Which led her to now--she dragged this motherfucker through the castle halls with an arm.

The bullets had to be silver, laced.

The gun he had used she'd seen in the Duke's care once. Wolfsbane, he called it.

Those bullets had stopped her transformation back, she was stuck in this half form.

Her eyes still glowing yellow, teeth still sharp, claws still extended and fur still peering out from her arms and chest.

She hefted him up the front steps, tossing him into the living room and listening to the gasps.

It seemed that with the castle on high alert, the girls hadn't heard her.

"Holy shit." Cassandra laughed at the unconscious man. "Had a tussle with our pup then, Mr. Winters."

Bela materialized when her mother called, Alcina having been in the large room with Cassandra.

Daniela was at the top of the steps, eyes wide.

"Nice work--!" Cassandra started.

"...puppy?" The redhead murmured, stopping Cassandra.

The werewolf had finally managed to push through and transform back into her mortal form. She didn't blame Cassandra or Bela for not noticing, after all, she was covered in the manthings blood. It masked the scent of her own.

She took a step forward and the bullets within her sang; her body finally remembered she'd been wounded it seemed, adrenaline spent up.

"Puppy!" Daniela screamed in horror, dissolving into a bout of flies and rushing to her.

Cassandra and Bela were fast but Daniela was faster, catching her before she fell on her bloodied face.

"...s-shi--t.."

"Puppy--what..." Daniela whispered before eyeing the wounds. "Cassa, she got shot--!"

"Fuck. Fuck.". Cassandra hissed, looking through the arsenal of weapons attached to the man. "...no. No, no, no--"

The brunette grasped the Wolfsbane like it was poison, crushing it in her grip until it bent.

Bela rushed forward whilst Alcina called for the maids, ordering them to bring the staff of the infirmary.

"Little one..."

The werewolf hacked up blood, breathing ragged and short as she fought to keep her eyes open.

"Eyes open. Eyes open, Puppy." Daniela pleaded.

"M-mngh..."

The maids rushed in, surrounding the wolf while Daniela held her. They worked tirelessly, attempting to find the bullets in the girl only to find they had shot right through her.

Cassandra was a huntress, she was one of the best. Exit wounds through prey meant instant death.

That was most likely why the brunette rested on her knees with the werewolf, holding her hand in both of hers.

"P-Puppy--?" Daniela whispered, eyes caked with tears of anguish. "E-Eyes on for me."

The woman blinked dulled eyes up at the woman who had first claimed her heart and her mouth pulled in a bloody smile.

"W-Why w--ould...they eve-r be on someone else?" She hummed back weakly, looking between all three with a heaving chuckle.

Daniela smiled weakly, tears leaving trails down her face. Her sisters were no better.

"Good, good. Eyes open. We're gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay."

The werewolf let the rumble of her lover's voice soothe her, her muscles going limp while she looked up at them for what she assumed--her heart began to slow--would be the final time.

"...I--love you..."

Her pupils dilated, hand limp in Cassandra's hand, smile giving way to a neutral line.

Daniela finally caught on.

"N-No...No, no, no, n--"

Her eyes shut.

She knew only darkness and then nothing.

They had called her 'Umbra Lunii' in life.

It was only fitting she died in the twilight then, under the shadow of the moon.

You really just waltzed into my inbox and outright attacked me like this, wow.

What'd I do to deserve this treatment lol

To be fair if the woof were to find a violent end, it would be trying to protect the Dimitrescus. But goddamn.

[siderealxmelody]

Bond or not, she would not snare him and make demands. She would not hold him to a mating bond, or force him to choose her. They had started as friends, she had known long before he did and she still did not pursue it. She’d let him have his choice.

Sarai’s stepped back and shook her head, giving him a smile as she hid her hands in her skirts. She didn’t need him to see how she clenched her hands, or the way knuckles turned white.

“I’m not going to trap you or demand you choose me Viren, I am not going to expect you to love me. You are free to choose, you are free to go and reject the bond.” She stepped back, a step away.

Living under Cassandra had taught her one thing, how to wear a mask and hide her true emotions. Even when every ounce of her screamed, as the pain tore at her. She smiled, her head tilted slightly to the side. She wasn’t viewed the same as the one he love, she wasn’t viewed as strong and cunning - even if she knew she could be.

She could have screamed and demanded, she could have clawed and yelled. But what kind of relationship was that if she wasn’t listening to him? Friendship first…She’ll damn her heart.

If this was how her path was to turn out then She had no part in this world of Night, if this was what was to happen she hated she has been brought there. Brought to have a life dangled in front of her, to build relationships she wouldn’t maintain once she left - it would be too hard.

“Just be happy my Night. You’ve been through enough and you deserve it.”

--------

"You let him off too easily Sarai."

He almost called her the name that stayed on his tongue whenever he saw her. But he'd always stopped himself, always held himself a step back. She'd wanted another and who would be if he took there choice from her?

His shoulder still stung, even years later that arrow had done something to him. He pushed off the wall falling into step with her.

"Where are we going next? Don't do that - I know your masks Ari? I made a pledge to you when we escaped, you are my queen - where you go I do."

He swallowed the other words, that she was his. Or if he was being more accurate he was hers. He looked back to Viren's office. He hoped...he hoped he never bothered Sarai again.

He didn't have the heat for vengeance and anger. He was just so fucking tired of this world and life.

He looked to her, a tired smile curling on his face.

"If you can't think of where to go Sarai. Does this mean I get to choose this time?"

[luxmaeastra]

Gavin and Demetrius glared at each other. They'd been at a standstill all afternoon since Vincent's coup had come to light.

Rhain listened, not sure what he was hoping to hear but maybe it would be useful. Maybe he'd understand what had truly happened. No one would tell him and he wondered about Vincent's children. Had they survived? Little Oraya who had followed him and told him one day she'd been queen. Had she known? If Shadya had been here she would have backhanded him. These weren't their friends or family. They were barely qualified as beings. They were things, monsters. What did it matter what they did to each other?

Gavin looked to him and back to his brother.

"What your proposing is going to get us all killed."

"We're already hunted Gavin! The only reason we are where we are is because the Valg took pity on us."

"Yes. And we should honor that! We have our mates brother. We - you're willing to throw that away for some gratification? The Valg -"

"She is hurting Gavin! She barely survived Vincent's assault! She - those children are dead because of him! If it's true he ran to Terresan to - tell me how to help her? Tell me how to assuage Georgina's rage and grief?! Tell me how to put my mate back together after what she witness Gavin?"

The silence was defeaning. Gavin didn't want this, didn't want to be dragged into anymore violence. He already faced enough of it surviving in the House of Blood. Elena was beautiful, her family had been good to him. Sure the circumstances of how he and Demetrius had been acquired weren't the most ethical. But they'd never been mistrested, never abused by anyone. If anything Neculai and Brannan had made sure they'd been taught to fight and kill. Had given them room to follow their instincts, neither had stopped their Matings of their daughters.

Yes, he knew he was being willfully blind to the thousands of other Daglan who didn't get this treatment. He knew he was digging his claws in and being cowardly. But he remembered what the world was like outside of these walls. Witches and fae hunting Daglan Wyvern down to take them as amplifiers and sell for parts. Did he really want to invite that back into his life? Did Demetrius really want to start a war with Terresan and the other Valg Houses?

"Demetrius -"

"Either Valg come to our cause or we make them kneel. I will not let the world take Georgina's sense of safety from her. I will not let him destory another court to live his Kingship dreams."

That news had come just a few days ago. Vincent had betrayed yet another court who called him family. Gavin still couldn't wrap his mind around the idea that Sebastian and Natalia had been slaughtered in their bed. Them? The same people who'd fought and survived Cassandra's downfall? The same fucking people who had created a spy network to save Valg and witches from Fae and Asteri clutches?!

It had to be untrue if he hadn't seen the bodies on Terresan's gates. The children killed too - an entire bloodline wiped out in two days. Elena had been inconsolable for the last week. She'd kept whispering about the children, of how Sebastian had been eager for them to come there. For them to grow up with his family and learn their ways.

Gavin exhaled, enslaving Valg, breeding their Daglan brothers and sisters for war. To take Erilia as their home and make Vincent and everyone who backed him pay.

He met Demetrius's eyes.

"When do we begin?"

Sebastian had been nothing but warm to him. For him, for him he'd agree to this insane plan. For him and his family, he'd agree to help destory Vincent and cut him at the knee.

An ally in this, one who saw the need more than the moral complexities of this. They needed to secure their home, they need to push their weight forward and for those around them to see them for the power they were. Georgina needed to feel safe, she needed to know that when she lay her head down at night she would not follow those before her.

Demetrius nodded, sitting back in his chair as he looked at the maps before them. "We begin with amassing the army we need, to move and start with the smaller domains first," he paused and looked at him. "This will be a long and hard path ahead of us, but it is for the better."

They would deal with the ethics of it once they had secured their homes and their families' safety. He sat forward as he looked over the map, his finger tracing the various borders.

"We need power and strength...Vincent will not go down easily."

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Attack of the Winter Wolf: Recovery Attempt

Summary- 6k Alpha Steve Rogers x Little One. Now armed with information Alanna gave before she died, Steve is confident that they are closing in on Brock and hopefully the return of Bucky. But Brock has his own goals for the Alpha. Bucky struggles with the return of his memories, which also means remembering who and what he has done as Soldat.

Warnings- Steve and Little One going feral for each other, Bucky recollecting moments of violence against others, character injury. This is an 18+ Only Blog.

A/N- You all finally find out what happened to Cassandra. Thank you so much to everyone reading, sharing and commenting on this series. It wouldn't be where it is today without all of you encouraging me to keep going. So again, THANK YOU. Special thanks to @drabblewithfrannybarnes for taking the time to beta this project. Dividers made by @firefly-graphics. Comments and Reblogs are much appreciated. Much Love Always. 🐺💙

Chapter Seven / Masterlist

Steve should be discussing with Sam what they just found out. He should be taking care of Alanna’s body. He should be passing along the information to Tony. 

He had a long list of things he should be taking care of.

But right now his mind was on one thing. 

How you protected him. There was no hesitation when he turned his back on his ex because you were with him. His mate whom he trusted with his life. You had ripped out the woman's throat without even hesitating. The man could feel his Wolf stir. But it woke up another beast in Steve, one that hungered to fuck his mate and show you just how much he needed you.  Keeping himself in check was a slowly losing battle. His hand brushed down into your fur just for the connection while the two of you strode back to his rooms in the safe house. 

The second you two were private enough for you to shift back, you had been mulling over the information dropped, as well as how you needed to clean up the blood that was smeared all over you. You didn't notice the way Steve had been keeping himself in check- barely- but now you two were back in the bedroom, and he wasn't keeping his hands off you anymore. You yelped when you felt his hand wrap against your neck to pin you back against the closed door, his hand shifting to cup under your jaw. His long fingers smeared the blood that covered from your chin and down your neck while his nose traced against yours, drawing in your scent. His eyes were flaring yellow as the beast was hovering near the surface. If this had been any other wolf, you would have been struggling to get away. For Steve you tilted your head back, showing off the column of your neck to your Alpha for a moment. Your own Wolf was roaring for satisfaction. 

Steve’s growl of need almost felt like a brand searing you as you pushed against his chest, slamming him into the wall and you jumped into his arms to crash your mouth to his, tongue lashing for dominance as you took over this claiming hunger. Your hand fisted in his hair, ripping him away from your mouth to flash his neck for your tongue, immediately dragging your scent  up his neck and you bit him, rubbing your core into his hip, “Mine Steve.” 

“Claim me then.” He challenged you with a snap of teeth against your jawline, pushing you back while he grasped your waist and pulled you up to swing your legs around him.

Another jerk around had you bouncing off the wall, your nails digging into his back and scratching down. His shirt was soon shredded, unable to hold up against you and neither could his skin as welts sprung to weep red. 

He didn't care, he wanted those bites and claws on him. They were marks he could carry with pride. He did snarl though, biting on the curve of your neck hard enough to make you yelp excitedly while you pulled away the shreds of his shirt. Steve dropped you to your feet, hiking a leg enough to open you up as he pressed a finger into your dripping core to stroke you. The heel of his hand ground against your clit, making you cry out in frustration and desire as you gushed for him. “Killing that bitch make you that wet for me Little One?” 

He scissored you when another finger filled you, dragging fingertips vigorously against your velvet walls that were so tight, stretching with every thrust and you just wanted more. 

More of his lust. 

More of his rage. 

More of his claiming. 

You seized and felt that hot pleasure sweep you away, hissing out as you clutched at Steve to keep you grounded, moaning out his name. You felt him drag his nose through your hair, using your scent to keep himself grounded while you squirmed in your haze of pleasure. 

He pulled his fingers from you but you weren't done, it just fed the need inside of you and you dragged him to the floor, straddling him and stared marking him, bites on his chest as you spread your slick against his abs, driving away the last remaining scent of that bitch, all you wanted him to smell like was you, a clear sign that he was yours.

“Keep going Little One.” Steve snapped his teeth with a hiss, feeling the sharp needing coil start to burn in his belly. “Gonna make sure everyone can smell you on me, see your marks.” He grunted as he tapped his hand against your ass, grabbing handfuls of you to push you down against him. You broke skin, swiping your tongue with laps over the blood that welled up. Steve’s cock rutted against your ass and slipped through your folds till you fit yourself back enough to have him fill your pussy. 

You bounced on Steve while he thrusted up, not craving tenderness and passion, this was about erasing what was left of Alanna, that it was you two in your most feral states and that was all you two needed, Before Steve could knot you, his cock throbbing to shoot his load into you and smear himself all over you, he pulled you off, flipping you till your ass was high in the air and his palm was pressed against the back of your neck, pushing you down. His fingers dug in enough to make your body burn with pain, knowing it would leave a mark, you craved it, pushed back into his hold so he would use his strength to keep you in place making him growl at you. “Mine.”  

You swollen pussy just dripping with arousal, clenching with need to be connected, he slammed back into you, the air punching out of you when you screamed his name and Steve fucked you with a feral need that you scrambled against the floor, trying to push against his hold but he jerked you back, curling himself over you while caging you to the floor. His body slammed into yours, claiming what last bit of fight you had left. His bicep circled around your neck, pulling your head back against his shoulder while he found your bond mark. Sinking his teeth in, you could feel yourself breaking for him all over again. 

This time when you came, Steve felt the bond like fireworks in his skull, cutting all his senses with the intensity of it, it wasn't a soft feeling that your love usually feels like, but all consuming and powerful. He slammed into you a few more times before he shuddered his release into you, the two of you sagging to the floor, panting with chest heaving gasps. 

You both were messy. The bites, bruises and scratches was a roadmap of both of your desperate need to claim each other. Steve nudged his nose behind your ear, making you curl in and press against him more with a groan. “Little One, are you okay?” 

You breathed in deeply to clear your mind and be able to give Steve some kind of answer. “Sore… But good.” 

“I’m sorry.” He pressed a kiss to your neck, muttering. “I needed you so bad.” 

“Don’t be sorry, Alpha, I wanted it. From the moment I felt her windpipe crush in my jaws, I wanted you to take what was yours.” 

Gathering you in against him, he held you till his knot passed and he was able to pull from you. Steve helped you up, rubbing at your back and making sure the two of you made it into the bathroom to clean up. After getting dressed and you both felt in control again did the two of you go seek out Sam, Sara, Clint, and Natasha. 

Listening to the intel Alanna had provided, Natasha pulled up her phone and double-tapped the screen to put up a hologram. Steve leaned in closer, looking at the layout of the factory district. Alanna certainly wasn't wrong, with all the storage containers placed on top of one another, it was easy enough to hide safehouses for Hydra. “I have been through here so many times.” Natasha sighed in defeat. “I never saw anything that would signify a secret base.” 

Steve’s gaze lifted towards Natasha, shaking his head. “Don’t do that to yourself Nat, Hydra specialize hiding in plain sight. What we need is a better look at the area, see where traffic in this area is coming and going. Clint, do you remember any of this?”

Clint hovered closer, pointing to a general area but it was still a wide range that he circled. “I remember bits and pieces. I was usually in the back of a vehicle and didn't get to see much. But we always went down, underground. When we were unloaded, it was into cages.”  

“We need to see what’s under these units then.” Sam spoke up. “And I got the perfect way. Remember when Stark brought us that last load of his toys?” 

“Sure?” Steve had no idea where Sam was going with this, but it seemed to click with Sara who stood near her mate. 

“Oooh, Sam, that is an excellent idea. He sent a specialized drone, Steve.” 

“Hey, that drone has a name!” Sam scoffed. “Redwing.” From across the table Natasha gave a laugh. 

“You named a drone?” 

“Sure as hell did, it's called Redwing. And it is so much more than a drone. The tech is top of the line Stark. We are not just watching outside traffic, that thing will be able to read what's inside of the storage containers too.” 

“Think it can find stuff underground?” You asked curiously. “Because Pierce had it all underground to keep us mostly hidden. Now knowing he was working with Hydra, it's probably where he got the idea for the set up.” 

“Guaranteed, Y/N.” Sam assured you. Steve straightened from where he was studying the map, nodding. 

“Well then, let's get started.” 

It wasn't just an advanced drone Stark had sent, but other useful items as well, the ones Steve was most interested in were the kevlar suits with built in features for them. You tried on one of the women's suits, stepping out while Steve was fitting shields to his arms. Curling his fingers, he squeezed his hands into fists and the shields clicked wider, giving more protection. Releasing the hold they clicked back to their original size over his arms. Your hand ran over his back, curling around the straps going over his shoulder. Feeling the slight tug you gave the leather straps, he looked over his shoulder. “What is this for Steve?” 

“It's for carrying equipment. Tony must have built it into the suit.” He gave a tug to the belt that was loose around your hips. “Same with yours.” 

You let the motion carry you closer to him. “What do you think we are going to find down there?” Steve gave a slight shake of his head.

“Probably nothing good Little One, but I have hope that whatever we do find, we can fix it.” Your Little Wolf preened at the Alpha, you could feel her worry, her need to stay close to her mate. The whole situation was giving you flashbacks to when Pierce was killed. Steve felt your need for reassurance, flooding the bond with ease and comfort, allowing you to take a deep breath and center yourself once more.

When the group of you arrived at the storage yard Steve kept a few wolves to the ground, Clint leading them among the shipping containers, using the big bulking boxes of metal to hide, creeping along the shadows like ghosts. A small group of you ascending from the top, speedily sprinting along the top and processing the information Redwing was sending Sam. You stuck to Natasha and Sara’s side, once in a while peering over the edge to see Clint on the ground, sniffing at entrances. A sweep of his tail signaled all clear for them to descend to their next target. 

Somewhere halfway through Sam paused them, Steve glancing at the screen he was also looking at. It showed a hollowed spot, this particular storage container did not appear to have solid ground underneath it. Steve dropped to the ground and tugged at the lock on the shipping container. Activating one of the shields, he slammed into the locking mechanism and snapped it open. Redwing continued hovering over the building, sending the readings to Sam. “All clear.” 

You, Natasha and Sara dropped from the shipping containers to follow Steve inside to see that the floor was sloped for vehicles to drive underground. Sam was soon behind you all, sure to leave the door ajar. “Clint is stationing wolves nearby, we are on a joint comm system. We should be able to stay in touch while we are down there unless we go too far.” 

Starting to ascend into the dark, you let the Little Wolf take over enough to change some of your features. Your eyes started to retract bits of light and your hearing sharpened to hear the soft footfalls of those with you while also straining to hear what was ahead. 

You nose twitched at the information being given. Many wolves have passed through, most of them distressed. Blood, fear, despair, this was a dark place. It made the Little Wolf’s hackles raise in alarm, her soft growls dying in your chest. 

Steve was alert in his movements, not only could he feel the Alpha’s unease, he felt yours too. The tunnels stretched wide and it was eerily silent. The Alpha paced, processing the smells as they hit. Some of them are familiar, Bucky and the others have come through here many times. 

Coming to a split in the tunnels, Natasha and Sam checked over both the paths, but it wasn't apparent which way to go. Sam thought one might be an exit thinking that he caught whiffs of fresh air, but he wasn't completely sure. Steve hated the idea of splitting them up while searching out for where Brock was set up. But he couldn't see another way, the longer they spent wandering around these tunnels, the more that an alarm would raise. Steve pressed against the comm in his ear. “Clint, you still hear me?” 

“Yes Alpha, all clear up top.” 

“Okay, we're splitting up, stay alert for anyone trying to enter. As soon as any of us signal you, come down.” 

“Heard you loud and clear Alpha.” 

Steve turned to the little group. “Sam, Sara, Natasha, see what you can find. Y/N and I will go this way.” 

Sara shuffled nervously. “I don’t like us splitting up Steve.”  

You nudged her lightly with a smile. “It won’t be for long. We have to be close.” 

“In ten minutes if we don't find anything, we will meet back here.” The Alpha compromised, seeing Sara visibly ease at the suggestion. Embracing one another quickly, the two groups separated, loyally you followed your Alpha. 

You and Steve went several paces, both of you sprinting now to cover more ground. The hallway narrowed and coming to the first set of doors the two of you slowed to approach it. Steve leaned into it, listening when he clicked the doorknob and swung it open to an empty room, nothing but computer screens and files scattered around. Normally he would have wanted to sift through the information bound to be in there, but that wasn't the mission. Turning the two of you away, you were on the move again. 

“Sam, find anything?” 

There was a crackle of static in the comms when Sam replied. “Nothing yet Steve, we are about to head back, it just seems to lead back up to the surface since we can scent the fresh air.” 

“Y/N and I are going up ahead further, if we don’t find anything we will be turning around.” Steve confirmed.

Coming up on a set of steel double doors, it had Bucky's scent all around it. Steve stuttered to a stop in front of it and pressed his hands against the steel, searching for the way to open it. You paused at the keypad, looking at the functions. It couldn't really be as easy as hitting the button? 

<Do it and see what happens.> The Little Wolf encouraged, alert in the front of your mind. When you hit it, the door clicked open. Looking around Steve, you saw nothing but a yawning darkness.

Steve inhaled deeply, growling softly. “Bucky, he’s been here.” It was as if rational thought escaped him. He went into the room without checking and you followed him right inside with a hiss of his name. As soon as you stepped through, the doors snapped shut and flood lights flashed on, blinding both of you. You raised your arm to cover your eyes, the other grabbing for Steve so you wouldn't lose him when a voice boomed in the empty room. “Wondered when you were gonna find this place, Rogers. Basically been in your backyard this whole time.” 

A snarl ripped through Steve as he blinked, regaining his vision once more. “Where are you hiding Rumlow? Where are the others?” 

“None of your concern.” Brock stepped into view, alone. “I’m glad you brought your bitch with you.” His eyes raked over you. “Seems only fair. I'm assuming Alanna is dead. I felt the bond break this morning and she would never let it go willingly.” 

“You don't seem broken about losing your mate.” You said incredulously, keeping to Steve’s side. 

Brock shrugged. “Alanna wasn't much of a mate, granted she was better behaved for me then she was for Steve.” You felt a deep sadness at the dismissal of that bond, you know how much it would damage you to lose your bond with Steve. “But she was still my bitch.” Rumlow bared his teeth in your direction. 

“Fucking asshole.” You spat out, your hand felt along the back of your belt, pulling off the glock pistol that you were given. Steve moved enough to step in front of you, the shields on his arms activating. 

“She chose to attack me and she didn’t survive.” Steve confirmed, although Brock had been dismissive, he did snarl and bare his teeth towards Steve, anger rolling off him in waves. 

“She might not have been much, but she was still mine. You will pay for that Rogers, you've made me lose being the pack's alpha and my mate now.” Brock snarled out. You were taking aim when a shot rang and Steve twisted his arm so the shield blocked it from hitting you, quick to shout into the comm. 

“We have Brock, he's down in the left tunnel, a couple miles from the split.” But static just emitted back in response. Brock laughed as you shot out twice, a sharp ringing while he moved out of your range, you and Steve moving as one to find him once more in the oversized hollowed cavern style room. 

“You took a lot from me Rogers, but I took your White Wolf from you and now I will also have your bitch of a mate. Once I’m finished with you two, you are going to wish you never crossed me then.” Still searching, the cavern started to fill with gas. You did your best to cover your mouth from breathing in and you saw Steve waver. His eyes widened in alarm when he turned towards you, trying to cover you as the gas enveloped the room. Your senses started to waver and when Steve’s heavy weight crashed into you, you yelled his name in alarm, but then you both went down heavily while your eyes rolled back.

 Brock came out with a mask on his face, moving to approach Steve and You. He reached down and gripped Steve’s shoulder, pulling him over onto his back. “Like Alanna said, fucking weak Rogers. I knew you would be mine eventually.” He snapped a picture of the two of you heaped together while sending a message. 

Ready for shipment. 

Natasha had heard the crackle of Steve’s voice before it went dead in her ear “We have Bro-” Sam and Sara heard it too, both of them stalling. Sam pressed his finger to the comm to try and hear better. “Steve? Y/N? Do you hear us?” 

Nothing but static answered back. Natasha faltered. “We gotta go back. Something isn’t right.” 

“It’s been over ten minutes.” Sara nodded in agreement. 

Sam agreed and they were about to turn around when gun fire started to wizz behind them, bouncing off steel walls, sparks flying around to make Sara duck in alarm. Their wolves all pushed for them to get moving, looking for a way out. They bolted down the tunnel they were exploring, Sam yelling in the comm. “Clint? Clint, do you hear me?” They started going upwards, the scent of fresh air getting stronger. 

“Barely Sam, where are you guys?” Clint came over. 

“South east corner Clint. Steve and Y/N, they are still down in the tunnels.” 

“We can’t get in Sam.” Clint sounded panicked in the comms, causing Sam to cuss out in frustration. “The door resealed shut again.” 

More shots bounded off the walls, Sara screamed next to Sam and went down at his feet, gripping her thigh that was now covered in blood. “Shit Sara, let me see!” Sam pried off her hands to look at the wound. Natasha swung back to cover Sam while he gathered Sara to lift her up while she worked on ripping at a piece of her suit to tie around her thigh. “Natasha, let's go.” 

“What do you want us to do Sam?” Clint's voice sounded in the comms. 

“Start for the southeast corner, Clint.” Sam shouted as they retreated into the unknown, hoping that they were close to the surface. The closed bay doors of a steel container came into sight and they rushed up to it. Sam was hesitant to put Sara down while Natasha pulled out another glock Sara had attached to her and went back to the curve of the tunnel, doing her best to hold those following them back. Sam was able to activate Redwing to hone in on their location. “Clint, follow Redwing.” 

“On it.” 

Sam set Sara down near the door. “See if you can’t get that keypad to open up Love.” 

She nodded as she leaned against the wall to keep weight off her leg, Sam went to Natasha, to help her, shooting around the corner whenever she pulled away. This went on for several minutes till Sara called out. “Sam! I think your drone is here.” Sam glanced at the screen on his wrist, viewing that it was outside of the door. 

He tapped on some buttons. “Lets see what Stark put in this thing. Sara, get back.” Natasha emptied her clip, falling back with Sam. 

“I’m out. We gotta get out now.” 

“Trying! Gotta have patience.” Sam sputtered as a whirring sound started outside of the doors, a red beam etching through the steel. Natasha swept up next to Sara to help support her, the woman sinking into her friend to hold her. The shooting behind them stalled, and it was seconds that seemed to drag out. 

“Sam? Your drone is slicing through the door?” Clint said just as there was a thud above them. 

“As soon as we get out, cover us because they are coming up behind us Clint.” 

“We’re ready Man.” 

The door slammed open just as the Hydra operatives ventured around the corner, Natasha and Sara hobbled out, Sam once more scooping Sara up as they bolted. On either side were haunched wolves waiting for the Hydra operatives and Clint stood atop the container, an arrow drawn taunt ready to release. 

Sam was sure to put Sara out of the line of fire while Natasha went up the side of the container to join Clint. The operatives stepped out and a rain of arrows crashed down on them, the wolves leaping after Clint dropped the ones stupid enough to run out into the open, tackling the ones who were just inside the container and killed them swiftly. Clint frowned as he looked at Natasha. “Are we going in for Steve and Y/N?” 

“As soon as we reload and get Sara to safety.” 

“Laura’s in the vehicle with the medic kit.” Clint spoke into the comm and Sam promptly answered that he was almost there. 

Soldat had chased after Brock, but he managed to slip away. His injuries now were his primary concern and he sought out the nearest place for medical supplies. Finding a gas station and garage combo, it appeared to be almost empty except for a kid behind the counter, messing around on his phone. Gritting his teeth, Soldat pushed his way in, holding onto his side. The kid peered up from his phone and took one look at the broken man. “Holy shit man, are you okay?” 

“First aid?” 

“Third aisle. You sure you don't want me to call you an ambulance instead?” 

Soldat just grunted a no as he walked to where he was directed, scanning the shelves to grab supplies he needed to treat the wounds and hobbled his way back to the front of the store. “That car yours?” 

The kid hesitated, his voice shaking. “You are not stealing my car.” Soldat squeezed his eyes shut, his head pounding. Bucky Bucky Bucky. Reaching in his jacket he pulled out a gun and aimed it right at him. “Shit! Okay, fuck don't shoot please.” He tossed the keys over and Soldat grabbed them, a war raging in his head and he had to get out of there, assess the damage and hunt down Rumlow. It was the most prominent thought in his mind besides another voice constantly saying Bucky.

 <Bucky we gotta go…> the White Wolf rumbled, panting.

Bucky not Soldat. 

<Now Bucky, you are barely keeping it together.> 

“I will be sure to leave the car where it can be found.” He assured the kid as he left the gas station quickly. The beat up toyota sputtered to a start and he peeled out of there. Inside the kid had snapped a picture through the glass of the store, immediately posting online. 

THIS CRAZY GUY STOLE MY CAR!  

The town felt familiar, as memories kept coming back to him. Pulling onto side streets, he ended up ditching the car with the keys left in it, knowing that the kid would report it before he even pulled out of the parking lot. 

But things felt familiar and he made his way down another street. About halfway down, he paused at a quaint little house that felt familiar. Not home but someplace he had spent lots of time in. Cassandra, her name was Cassandra. Memories of a beautiful woman making breakfast flashed in his mind, leaving the White Wolf whining loudly with pinned ears and started to sink down to his belly. What was she for us? 

<A friend.> the White Wolf responded. <A lover, but she is gone.> 

Soldat started fading into nothing as more of Bucky’s memories started to return. He made his way to the back of the house to keep from neighbors prying eyes. How is she gone? Bucky started coming back into consciousness as he broke inside, still recalling nothing but good memories with this woman. Flashes of her moaning and giggling underneath him in bed, the sensation of heels digging into his lower back while her fingers twisted into the long strands of his hair, calling his name. Bucky, Bucky, Bucky. Hearing her sigh near his ear while she traced over the scars on his left shoulder. Bucky, Bucky, Bucky. 

The White Wolf hesitated as Bucky wandered through the house, checking the tap water to make sure it was still running. Although it didn't warm up he would be able to shower. He no longer cared if it was warm or not. Shedding clothes as he got into the stinging icy downpour in the upstairs bathroom, he continued asking the White Wolf. How? You seem to know and are keeping it from me. 

<You don’t need to know.> His Wolf was stubborn in trying to keep him from remembering, Bucky closed his eyes with a sigh, feeling the ice water impale the soreness in his muscles, fresh blood dripping from some of the cuts, but he wasn't paying attention. While washing himself he started to search his memories, as they were coming back faster, slamming into his consciousness like they never left. But they were all good memories, at least in the beginning. 

Getting out of the shower, his memories started to edge on gray, the colors fading from his thoughts and the White Wolf fought him every step of the way till he finally gave in. The vision of Cassandra shaking her head at Bucky while she curled up on a dirty floor trying to make herself small. Cuts laced her naked body where someone had spent time torturing her. A glance down showed the knife in his hand, red sticky droplets edged the blade among all the grey hues, the back of his hand covered in smears of blood, the only color in his vision. “Bucky please, I can't take anymore.” She cried and Bucky felt the way he spun the blade so that he had more control of how he could slice with it. “Please… Bucky I know this isn't you.” She pulled away further, crying in pain as the cuts laced her body opened, weeping away small amounts of her life in a steady streak. From behind him, Bucky heard a man's voice. 

“Come now Soldat, I think we have had enough fun with her,” Brock smirked as he came into Bucky's vision, planting his boot against Cassandra's back, pinning her to the ground. “Make it slow, Soldat, I want to see the life drain from her eyes.” That's when he started advancing on her, Cassandra crying into the dirty floor, no match against the two men. 

Bucky fought with the visions, all of it was tinged with gray, every recollection. The White Wolf cried out at the furious pain it brought the two of them, snapping at the air in fear as Bucky grabbed the bathroom sink to keep upright as he gasped, the panic and guilt becoming overwhelming. “I tortured her…” 

<Not by choice. You were controlled. The magic used on us made us forget who we were.> The White Wolf sunk down, curling into a ball to protect himself, now and then a quiver ripped through him, shaking uncontrolled. Bucky blinked away the tears that were freely streaming down his face. 

“Bandage yourself… focus on what we need to do.” Bucky started to talk himself through the steps to keep from breaking down at the memories. He started bandaging his cuts, making sure to take pain killers to dull the throbbing in his mind and his body where it needed stitches. He made do with a small sewing kit he found among Cassandra's items and was almost done when he heard a creak from the stairs. Grabbing the glock he had brought with him, he made his way to the door and out onto the landing to look down into the house for what caused the noise. 

Looking back up at him was a woman who had her own weapon pointed at him, anger and calculated rage written all over her face. Her finger was close to squeezing the trigger. “I finally found you fucker.” Bucky narrowed his eyes at her as she continued up the stairs, trying to figure out how he knew the woman coming up the stairs. “Don’t remember me Bucky? I once considered you a friend. We fought side by side, Caine and I helped you escape Pierce.” Her hand wavered as tears brimmed her eyes before her face hardened once more. “You destroyed everything Bucky, collared Caine when he trusted you.” 

Bucky’s eyes widened when it clicked who it was. Kat. 

Kat who was Y/N’s old packmate, Brock had sent Soldat and the team in to clean them out. Collect both the Alphas on that mission. They had only collected one, Caine. Steve, Steve Rogers was supposed to be the other one, but he wasn't as easy to capture. Bucky pulled back his weapon, showing open hands. “I do remember you Kat, I remember Caine, what I did, all of it.” He set the glock down and Kat finished up the steps, racing up to Bucky and pressing her gun up under his chin. 

“Do you? You murdering bastard. You killed him.” 

Bucky swallowed nervously but didn't make a move to disarm her. “No, he is not. Caine is still alive.” 

She wavered a bit, lowering it from where she was pressing it against the bottom of his jaw. “He is?” 

“Yes, I can explain it to you if you let me.” Bucky offered and Kat searched his face, trying to figure out if he was telling the truth. Making a grab for the weapon he had set aside and tucking it away on herself, she pulled hers away from him with a nod, allowing him to continue.

You woke with a groan, twisting to your side and tugging at your bound hands. Eyes shooting open to look around you. Your mouth tasted funny, a drugged taste making you gag behind the cloth stuck in your mouth to keep you quiet. Your Little Wolf was groggy in your mind, trying to pull herself up but stumbling back to slouch, panting. The gas had knocked her out too. Steve… you thought as you started to blink rapidly trying to get yourself to focus. You sensed him nearby, could hear his rumbles of waking up and finding out he was gagged. A thump above you made you crane your neck to see Steve had managed to roll to his knees, forehead pressed against the ground as he took deep breaths to keep himself from gagging just as you had. Then he growled behind the gag and strained his arms trying to snap the tie Brock had put you two in. The metal ties creaked a second but refused to budge. 

You rocked yourself enough to roll close to him. 

Blue eyes shot up to see you, searching to see if you were okay. Losing his balance, he landed beside you. You shifted in closer till your forehead could press against his, breathing in deeply while closing your eyes. Already you could feel his scent wash over you, through you, taking away some of the chemical gas smell and replacing it with Steve. You could feel your Little Wolf whimper before howling, searching out the Alpha. Steve struggled again, using his energy that was slowly starting to come back against his ties, but it still refused to budge. 

Steve sunk back down, feeling your need to be close in this helpless state. The gas effects were slowly wearing off, and the Alpha was struggling to function. Pushing himself up and stumbling a few steps, he shook himself out vigorously and perked his ears, sensing his Little Wolf so close. A howl back answered her and they reconnected much like you and Steve had. 

It was too dangerous to attempt a shift being so drained of energy from the gas and the way they were bound in what Steve guressed to be enhanced metal would snap their limbs. All they could do was wait it out, together. 

Steve ran his nose against yours, before exhaling harshly, and resting his forehead once more against yours, hoping that he could keep you calm when in truth he was scared too. There was no hiding the fear in the bond though, both of you felt it while huddling together, unsure of what would happen next.

[butwhyduh]

Red Sun

Kon Kent x batsis!Reader

Summary: The prompt was “this isn’t you”

Warning: angst, death.

Your eyes stung as water fell in them as you stared up to the roof in the rain. Your enemy was standing there, almost falling over with exhaustion. You were similar.

“Give up now. Before you get yourself killed,” Connor called up beside you. He wasn’t as bad off but still tired. The villain laughed.

“I only wish I could stay for the show,” they said before moving their hands in a complex motion while speaking a language you couldn’t understand. The palm of their hand glowed red and you jumped away to avoid being it. It didn’t hit you, by a long shot. It hit Connor straight in the chest.

“No,” you gasped looking him over for injuries. Nothing was visibly wrong with him. “Superboy are you okay?”

He turned to you and his eyes glowed red. You immediately pushed your panic button on your suit. The villain cackled and ran off with renewed energy.

“Superboy, what’s going on?”

Connor just looked at you coldly and walked towards you. Much the way prey animals can sense danger and instinctively runs away, your body moved backwards from your boyfriend. You sensed something wrong in him.

“Hey, what are you doing?” You asked a little panicky. If he was cursed or brainwashed or whatever, you had maybe 5 minutes before Kryptonite was needed to save you. Your nearest Bat was Jason in Gotham and that was at least 20 minutes away. He took a step towards you and you jumped back.

“Connor, you know me. This isn’t you,” you said, trying to plead with him. You cursed yourself for not listening to Bruce. He warned you to have Kryptonite. But your boyfriend would get sick and weak around it and you trusted him. But this isn’t him.

He curled a hand into a fist and punched towards you almost lazily. You barely dodged it and realized he was backing you into a corner of the alley. He punched again and this time his lazy punch hit the wall and bits of brick fell to the ground. That punch alone could kill you.

“Connor, hey. Don’t do this. You’re stronger than that,” you begged. He hit out and you tried to duck but instead you were grabbed and thrown bodily into the bricks.

“Connor!” You gasped. You tried to push up with your arms only to fall bodily. One was definitely broken. You trembled as you pulled yourself up. “Stop.”

There wasn’t a single glance of humanity in his eyes. They were red and mad from the magical influence. He grabbed you and slung you again. Your head hit brick and you heard a ringing as your vision spun. Head injury. Blood pooled from your nose. Your boyfriend was going to slowly beat you to death. Great.

“Connor, Kon. I love you,” you whimpered as he pulled you up by your shoulder. You squirmed in his grasp as your head throbbed and your arm burned. You held it close to your body. Connor’s other hand wrapped around your throat and you grab at it with your good hand. It was like pulling on concrete.

“No, no,” you pleaded. Tears burned your eyes and not even the cold rain could soothe the burned you felt from his hands. He was burning up. Fingers tightened on your throat and your eyes went wide. You frantically clawed at any part of him you could reach. You didn’t even manage to leave a single mark. Your brain throbbed and lungs burned.

It wouldn’t be long now. The burn in your lungs stretched onward and was so prevalent that you couldn’t even feel your broken arm and injured head. Your hand stopped it’s frantic scratching to rest on Connor’s arm. Black spots darkened your vision. A few body spasms and your consciousness left you. Connor held your body for a few more minutes before letting you drop to the ground.

The spell broke and he gasped with sudden realization. He scooped you up. “No,” he said. “No. No.” He laid you on the concrete and started CPR. His movements were jerky as he tried to bring you back. “Come on. Come on!”

“What’s going on!” Jason asked as Connor did chest compressions. Conor didn’t answer but continued with tears in his eyes. Bringing you back was the only option. Jason noticed ligature marks around your neck and the concrete chunks on the ground. He pulled a shot of epinephrine from his belt and pushed Connor back to shoot you in the heart.

You didn’t move or breath or anything so Connor continued compressions and rescue breaths. Jason pulled out a second one. This was all he had. His hands shook a little. His little sister was dead. If this didn’t work, you weren’t coming back. Jason stabbed your heart with the second shot and a full second later your body spasmed and you gasped in a breath. Connor let out a sob before grabbing you in his arms. Your breath rattled heavily.

2 days later you woke up in the cave medical bay with blankets on top of you and an IV in your arm. Heart monitors softly beeped normally.

“She’s awake,” you heard Tim say. Footsteps came towards the room and Cassandra came towards your bed.

“How are you?” She asked giving you a glass of water.

“Okay,” you said hoarsely. You winced in pain before drinking a little of the water. It burned and soothed your throat. She looked at the monitors and IV.

“Everything looks expected,” she said and you nodded. You were already tired and wanting to fall asleep again. “I’m glad you are awake. You scared us for a while. You have a visitor.”

You looked up to see Connor standing in the doorway. Despite the pain, you shrunk away from him. The heart monitor beeped angrily and you gasped out a “no” in fear.

“Go,” Cass said, pushing him from the room. Connor’s face crumpled and he left.

“It’s okay,” Cass said pulling you into a hug. Tim suddenly appeared in the doorway. He relaxed upon seeing you okay but shaken up.

“I’ll talk to Kon,” he said. Connor stood by the computer bay with a look of dejection. “Hey, it’s okay. She’s disoriented and needs some time to be okay.”

“It was me. I did it. They cursed me with some spell and I attacked her,” Connor said with his head hung low. He wouldn’t look at Tim.

“You did that?” Jason asked from across the room. Connor had been so distraught that no one had asked him to report from the field.

“Magic. I had no control,” he said.

“Get the fuck out of here,” jason said. “You killed her and if I wasn’t there, she’d be 6 feet under.”

Connor looked away and grabbed his jacket. He roughly shoved it on and left the cave.

“You don’t think he feels bad enough?” Tim asked Jason.

“He can feel bad somewhere else,” Jason answered. “You didn’t see her. She was dead.”

“I know-“

“She’s asleep again,” Cass said interrupting them both. “Connor is also a victim. He couldn’t control.”

Jason sighed and then nodded in agreement.

“It will take time,” Cass answered. “For them both.”

“Perfect timing for you to file paperwork then. You’re very behind,” Bruce said to Cass. She sighed and gave him a pout. “Not a chance. Find a computer.”

[hoppers-babygirl]

Wounded

Author: Hoppers-babygirl

Word count: 672ish

Warnings: Tw blood mention.

kofi: https://href.li/?https://ko-fi.com/hoppers_babygirl

A/N: Just a little snippet based on a tiktok i found which inspired me. reposted by myself, trying to fix tags.

It was late at night when Cassie came home, her thigh wrapped up in a half assed bandage. Stumbling down the hallway she tried her best not to make too much noise as her mother had been asleep. Dustin came from his room to see what the noise had been all about, his face held a look of confusion before an alarmed look crossed his expression as he noticed the blood. Her hands quickly cradled his head as the other covered his mouth. Cassie ushered him back into his room and carefully closed the door behind them before she let him go. 

She whimpered quietly in pain as blood seeped into the bandage. Her eyes flicked from the mess up to Dustin’s face. “What the hell happened?” He whispered loudly, it wasn’t often he used an inside voice when upset. 

“Will you be quiet and get the first aid kit?” She hisses quietly as she moves to sit down on the end of his bed. Pain coursed through her leg even while she sat down. Dustin ran out his room and into the bathroom across the hall to grab the first aid kit. 

With a shaky hand Cassie undid the bandage to reveal three cuts on her skin, almost like a claw mark. She panted out a breath that she didn't realize that she was holding, Dustin grimaced at the sight of the sore. “Cas, what happened?” He asked as he moved to take the ruined bandage from her hands. 

“Just a bit of monster hunting with Jonathan. I got a little too close before he could light it on fire, I’ll be fine, just need to clean it up.” She hissed quietly in pain, as she held the first aid kit she looked through for any gauze but failed to find any. 

“Fuck..” Cassie mumbled under her breath. “Help me to the bathroom, I’m gonna pour some alcohol on the cut to help clean it out.” Tossing the kit onto Dustin’s bed she held her hand out for him to take. 

Dustin helped Cassandra to her feet once again, despite the slight height difference she wrapped her arm around his shoulders before the pair walked their best to the bathroom. Once inside he closed the door, Cassie tore her jeaned open a bit more. The denim is already ruined from the blood and disgusting mess the monster left.

“You should’ve used the walkie to call me or Steve..” His voice trailed off as he rummaged through the cabinet to find the rubbing alcohol she wanted just moments ago. “Yeah well I didn’t need you getting hurt plus Jonathan and I had it handled just fine.” Dustin handed her the bottle eventually and soon enough she grit her teeth and poured a good amount over the wound. 

She cleaned up the wound, dabbing it dry with a clean cloth Dustin finally found a bit of gauze and an ace wrap. Cassie waved him from the bathroom before she took the ruined jeans off to put the fresh bandage around her thigh. Once she felt strong enough she stood up, a muffled cry came from her lips as she put pressure on her leg. A whimper slipped past her lips as she stood in front of the sink to wash up her hands and face. 

Dustin knocked on the door, opening it just a crack. “Did you need anything else?” Tews tried her best to push into the bathroom to be included but Dustin shooed her away to which she meowed up at him. The sound made Cassie chuckle under her breath, “I’m okay, thanks for the help. Just get to bed before she wakes mom up.” With that Dustin went off to bed as did Cassie. 

Unfortunately flashes of the monster chasing her followed her even after she closed her eyes. As she laid in bed she gripped her stuffed bear that Eddie gave her a few years ago, close to her chest as she ran for her safety in her dark and dusty dreams. A roaring demogorgon stomped after her as she ran as fast as her body could handle. She woke up with a gasp, looking around tears began to spill down her cheeks as she rocked with the stuffed bear in her arms.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

I always think of like, the reversal of what happened with the dimitrescu family in the game, like all three daughters die, lady D goes absolutely insane trying to kill ethan. But what if by some miracle or smth ethan had managed to kill lady d first? I think all three of the daughters would go absolutely apeshit hunting ethan down and ripping him to shreds because 'you killed our mama'

And I dunno I was thinking about this last night and decided someone else should suffer with me

I’ve thought of this, too!!

After they kill Ethan they stand around their mother’s broken body in silence, unsure on what to do or say anymore. What was there to do without their mother to guide them?

Ethan’s body is burned. The flames devour his flesh in their stead. None of them can bring themselves to feast upon him for what he’s done. It hurts too much.

They bury Alcina in the garden, bundling up in several layers so they can give her a proper funeral service, despite the harsh Romanian winter. They kneel in the snow-covered dirt, drinking from her veins one last time. Her blood had never tasted so stale before.

Ashes. It’s all ashes.

They hang her hat on the tree her grave sat beneath. Nobody says a word. Tears freeze to their faces. One-by-one, they leave.

There is nobody to greet them inside.

Mother Miranda, Moreau, Donna and Angie, even Heisenberg come to pay their respects. They all say the same thing, over and over again: I’m so sorry for your loss. She was a great mother. She loved you all dearly. None of it matters. Not any more. Who cares if she loved them or not if she is no longer there to give them that affection?

Time passes. Alcina’s death is hard on everyone. Daniela spends a lot of her days locked in Alcina’s bedroom, curled up in the blankets, crying. Cassandra vents her despair and anger on the maidens, practically living down in the dungeon, torturing and slaughtering. Bela, as the oldest, takes up the family business, but it’s so hard, so fucking hard because she doesn’t know how to do anything and it reminds her so much of her mom and she fears failure severely.

The sisters begin to grow distance, as they’re rarely around each other anymore, all too busy with their unhealthy coping mechanisms. They can’t depend on each other for comfort because they can’t even comfort themselves.

One day, six lonely months later, Bela goes out and visits her mother’s grave.

“Hi, Mama,” she says. “I brought you some things.”

She brandishes a bouquet of flowers to the grave, as if Alcina were actually standing there and looking grateful over the gift.

“They’re roses,” Bela tells the tomb. She swallowed thickly, biting back the lump welling up in her throat. “They reminded me of you.”

She tentatively sets the flowers down on the dirt.

“I—” The words catch in her throat. She scratches at her neck with one claw, trying to muster up the will to speak. “I was thinking about maybe trying different mixtures for the wine.” She pauses, took a breath, then goes on, forcing out a giggle alongside her sentence, “It’s probably gonna turn out surprise gross, though.” And then, much quieter, wringing her hands together, “I wish you were here to do it with me.”

Silence falls upon the girl and the grave. Bela’s hands are clasped tight and she brings them to her stomach, imagining what it would be like to find absolution in her claws. She would plunge and drag and drag and drag until there was nothing left of her but shredded flesh and blood, but that would not be enough, not for her. It would not give her her mother back. It would not give her the shouts and the laughs and the boisterous cries at all hours of the morning and night. That was not what Alcina would have done if it had been Bela that was murdered on that fateful day.

But she wasn’t as strong as Alcina.

Bela doesn’t really realize exactly how loud she is crying until her shaking breath hitches so high it sounds like a squeak. She blinks through the haze of tears and scrubs her eyes with her sleeve, but the merciless flow does not stop.

A little brown bird lands on a grave nearby and fluffs out its wet wings. A grazing deer is munching contently on some wild flowers. Some type of bug is buzzing in the grass somewhere from behind.

Looking around at this all, Bela is shocked by how the world keeps running and running while hers had stopped its run not so long ago.

The summer leaves are dancing around her, whisked from the towering oak trees by foggy gales and sent into a whirling axis in the sky. A humidly warm, but also bone-chillingly cold breeze is trying to offer a comfort that seems to be invisible and impalpable. There can’t be comfort. There can’t be reassurance. The pain is still too loud, the wound is still too raw: her heart and her soul aren’t ready to accept that there is a reason for what has happened; her mind is still trying to distinguish between reality and fantasy, between the soothing effect of a false illusion and the harsh truth of a world deprived by its most beautiful voice.

“Why?” She wonders this so often, but there is only pattering raindrops and whisking nature replying to her, and that lack of words is an absence that stings more than she can accept.

“Why?”

She has wondered for too long but still nothing has come up and maybe it will never be answered because sometimes life is like that, a storm in the middle of a summer day and its lingering residue following her for weeks and months. Maybe one day she’ll stop asking herself that but, for now, it’s just all she can think about, over and over again.

It doesn’t make sense.

Nothing makes sense and it has been like that since she saw the sight, just a few flashes of images in a room, blood and gunfire and a collapsing body, that had stumbled down her life and shattered it. She can still see them behind her eyes, can still feel the way her own heart had stopped beating as a black void started to envelop her. She still feels like she’s down there, trapped in a nightmare that no one knows how to stop or break.

It doesn’t make sense.

There is regret in her body language. There is a baggage full of words that should have been said and things that she should have done. Maybe, if she had done them, nothing would have ever happened.

Bela wishes she could go back in time. She wishes there was a way for her to erase all those tiny mistakes she’s made, all those times she wanted to reach out but, instead, turned her head away because it still hurt. Her mother was—is still—the most important thing in her life and, yet, she let her slip away in fear of what she would say if she showed any signs of weakness. Her image is everything and yet, what is left now? There’s no image to defend, there’s nothing left because Alcina’s death has destroyed everything.

So she wishes. She wonders and wishes that there is a way for her to save just a few lives.

Her life.

There are still tears in her eyes. She wants to believe it’s because of the weather and the wind but it’s just a useless alibi. She lets them fall, not ashamed anymore because there is no one around to watch her. But she feels like a hypocrite, she feels like she doesn’t have the right to cry that loss because she could have done so much to prevent her mother’s absence.

To prevent her death.

She knows it’s the truth, no matter how many times people keep telling her that she’s done nothing to cause the incident. She knows it’s the truth, no matter how many people try to explain how, sometimes, she can’t save everyone. That bad things just happen to good people.

“I’m sorry.”

She knows it’s too late.

She knows that it’s useless because Alcina’s not there to hear those words.

Regrets don’t leave Bela, not even now that she’s standing in front of the consequences of her own ignorance.

It’s her fault.

She keeps telling herself it as if this admission of truth can absolve her sin. It’s her fault because she said she would protect her family but it was always so easy to forget about it: there isn’t ever the need to- she had always been the one that needed help the most in the family it seemed. She had always been the one fate had chosen to deal bad cards: her mental health, her perfectionism, those idiotic statements and those stupid decisions.

But then there was her mother. Her mother’s comforting words, gentle touches, light hearted jokes to make her smile—the way she would just…be there and make things better in ways that were difficult to explain to the world that had never seen her in private.

Why didn’t Bela do the same for her? Or for any of her family members?

“I’m sorry.”

Bela is sorry. She could have done more. She could have told her more.

She should have known better.

Bela should have known better, but she didn’t. She didn’t want to face the truth. She didn’t want to realize that her superhero might have been needing a hero herself and she was too oblivious or too busy or too afraid to be up to the task.

She depended on her mother and now she’s lost.

Alone.

[ladydimitrescuspet]

În Viață Și În Moarte - In Life And In Death

ao3 link! you have every right to yell at me over on @homoo-wan-kenobi! I'm sorry for the sad fic, inspired by this ask by @schnuffel-puschel. tell me what you all thought, and please enjoy. mild violence and reader dies, I'm sorry. if it's any consolation, I cried writing this.

tu esti totul pentru mine - you're everything to me

***

Alcina had instructed you to stay in one of the rooms in the east wing of the castle, telling you not to open the door for anybody that was her, her daughters, or your handmaiden.

“I don’t care what commotion you hear outside this room, do not open this door for any reason. I need you to stay right here, draga mea, and I need you to take care of yourself and the baby.” Alcina said before she kissed your forehead.

“Come back to us, please.” You said softly as you squeezed her hand tightly, a move that she reciprocated.

That was four days ago. There wasn’t much commotion to be heard outside the door, just the wind howling outside your window. Your handmaiden brought you your meals whenever she could, often leaving you something to snack on just in case one of your meals was late. You’d often try to open the door, but soon realised that it was locked from the outside so despite Alcina’s words, you couldn’t let anybody in any way.

Pacing back and forth didn’t help with your anxiety over what was happening. What exactly was happening? Alcina didn’t tell you as she rushed you slightly to the other side of the castle. You jumped when the door to your room opened, hiding under the covers.

“Hello?” A voice called out. It definitely wasn’t Alcina. No, the voice was unfamiliar, but it sounded like a man’s voice. “Is anybody here?” The voice asked.

You slowly came up from under the covers, revealing your presence in the room. “Who are you?” You asked.

“My name’s Ethan Winters. What’s yours?” Ethan replied as he walked over to where you were on the bed.

"My name's Y/N. May I ask what you're doing here in the castle, Mr. Winters?" You asked.

"I'm looking for my daughter, Rose, they're keeping her here. Have you seen her?" Ethan asked. You shook your head. "I see you're having a baby too, right?" Ethan gestured to your protruding belly.

You smiled. "I am, she'll be born quite soon, actually." You replied.

Ethan nodded. "Well, we best get you out of this place. I'm sure the news of those monsters in this castle having my child worry you about them taking yours." Ethan replied as he grabbed your hand to pull you out of the bed, you resisted. "Y/N, what's wrong?" Ethan asked.

"The Lady of the castle has instructed me to stay here for my own safety." You replied. "She's taken very good care of me for well over a year, Mr. Winters."

Ethan scratched his head. "And you trust her?" You nodded your head. "Are you under a spell of some sort? Don't you see that she's just keeping you safe until she can get her hands on your child?" Ethan asked.

You slowly got out of the bed. "Alcina would never do anything to harm me or our child, Mr. Winters." You replied. "I'd really like it if you left the room or better yet, left the castle. Your daughter is not here, I'm afraid you've been misinformed." You explained.

"Maybe I have, but I can't just leave you here." Ethan said before grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the room.

You struggled against him. "Mr. Winters, please, I'm perfectly safe. I appreciate your concern." You tried tugging your arm free but his grip was too tight. "Mr. Winters, you're hurting me." You whimpered slightly.

He stopped and let go of your wrist. "Sorry." Ethan said before he started walking again. You followed after him. "How do you get out of this place?" He muttered to himself.

"I can help you find the way out." You replied. "The front door should actually be open and then you're good from there." The two of you walked down the stairs. A maniacal laugh rang out. "Just keep going. That's probably Daniela."

You'd been right. "Y/N?" Daniela asked.

"Hi, Dani. I was just showing Mr. Winters the way out. He won't be bothering us anymore." You replied. You tried to open the front door but it wouldn't budge. You frowned. "Dani, why does Alcina have the front door locked?" You asked, turning back around to face her.

"To keep him from going out. Why aren't you in the room, Y/N? Mother's going to be very crossed with you." Daniela replied. "Cass! Bela! Mr. Winters is by the front door, if you're around." Daniela called out before she went to grab your hand.

"Don't touch her." Ethan said as he pulled out his gun.

You gasped. "Mr. Winters, what are you doing? Put the gun down." You said. "Please."

"Y/N, you really shouldn't witness what I'm about to do." Ethan replied. "Take this key, it'll lead you to the Courtyard. Whatever you do, don't turn around for any noises that you hear." Ethan handed you the key.

You shook your head and dropped the key to the floor. "No, I won't leave you alone with her." You replied. "Everything's going to be fine, Dani, I'm just going to help him leave the castle grounds and then I'll be back." You said.

"No, Y/N, you're not allowed to leave the castle, not with the baby on the way. Just go back to the room before Mother finds it empty." You nodded your head and turned to leave, but then you heard Ethan fire his gun, the bullet missing Daniela. "You son of a bitch." Daniela gritted through her teeth as she lunged forward towards him. You heard another two shots fire and then you heard a ringing in your ear and the faint sound of someone saying your name "Y/N? Y/N? Hey, stay with me." Daniela held you in her lap.

"What hap-" You couldn't get the whole question out.

"Cass! Bela! Mother! Please, come quickly!" You heard Daniela yell as loudly as she could. "You monster. Why the fuck would you shoot her?!" Daniela screamed at Ethan.

"I'm sorry, she got in the way. It was for you, only or you." Ethan was paralysed with shock, realising what he'd done. He dropped his gun.

You could hear the faint sound of buzzing and then faint clicking and clacking of heels. "Da- Dani, the b-ba-baby," You croaked out.

Daniela spoke to you through tears. "Shh, Y/N, Mother's almost here. She'll help you. You'll be fine. And the baby will be fine." Daniela rambled as she held onto your body tightly.

"Daniela? What happened?" Alcina asked. Daniela looked up at her. Alcina's eyes came upon your body and she turned to Ethan. "You fucking rat! What have you done?!" Alcina was furious. She wanted that man dead. You could hear the sound of blood squelching as she impaled Ethan with her claws, not stopping until her dress was covered in his blood or one of her daughters pulled her off.

"Mother, Y/N's losing blood fast, and the baby..." Daniela trailed off.

"Call Mother Miranda. Have her and Heisenberg get here as quickly as they can. Take Y/N to the sitting room and put her in a comfortable position." Alcina instructed her daughters. Alcina picked up Ethan's bloody body. "By the time I'm done disposing of his body, they should be here." Alcina left the room without another word.

You always thought a gunshot would kill someone instantly. You'd gotten hit in the shoulder and the chest. The shot to your chest should've been fatal, but here you were being carried by Daniela to the sitting room and being put into a comfortable position as her Mother had instructed. True to her word Mother Miranda and Heisenberg had gotten to the castle a few short seconds before Alcina came back.

"Mother Miranda, Heisenberg, she's in the sitting room." Alcina said as she guided them to where you were. Your breathing was quite shallow and it hurt to breathe. "Relax, my dear, Mother Miranda will do what she can to help you." Alcina ran her over your cheek and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"Alcina, my dear, I don't think this'll work." Mother Miranda replied.

Alcina's face hardened. "Alci, think about Y/N and the baby." Heisenberg said. "We might not be able to save both of them."

Alcina eyes filled with tears at the thought of only one of you living. "No. No, we must help them both." Alcina said. "We can, we can deliver the baby and then tend to Y/N's wounds. Yes, yes, we'll give her the virus if we must." Heisenberg let out a deep sigh, Alcina scowled at him.

"Oh, Alcina, I'm afraid Y/N's lost more blood than I can work with. The virus won't take with the lack of blood." Mother Miranda replied. Alcina opened her mouth to protest, but Mother Miranda raised her hand. "However, I can deliver the baby if we can keep Y/N awake long enough. It's too risky to have her push with the blood loss so I'll have to cut into her."

Alcina nodded her head, taking your hand in hers. "Do what you must." Alcina replied. "I'm so sorry, iubirea mea. I've failed to keep you and our child safe, I failed at the one thing I promised you when you first came here. I failed at protecting you." Alcina pressed a kiss to the hand that she was holding.

You let out a small groan. "Al?" You asked.

"Yes, draga mea?" Alcina replied.

"The baby. Take care of her." It took you a while to get the sentence out but you managed to say it.

Alcina nodded her head. "Of course, my darling. I will protect her with everything I have in me. I won't break my promise to you twice, I wouldn't dare." Alcina could feel the tears falling down her face as Heisenberg's hand came upon her shoulder.

"You'll have to say goodbye now, Alci. It's likely that she won't wake up after the procedure." Heisenberg's word left a bitter taste in his mouth. The thought of you dying hurt him. You were like family to all of them even Mother Miranda. Heisenberg gave the hand Alcina wasn't holding a light squeeze before he walked over to the other side of the room. He couldn't find it in himself to say goodbye to you.

You could see the blurry outlines of Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela as they kneeled down beside you. You tried to give them a small smile but you just ended up grunting in pain at the attempt, coughing a bit.

"We'll miss you." Bela said. She placed a kiss to your cheek before standing up, the wetness of her tears lingering on your cheek.

Cassandra sniffled. "Terribly so. But we'll look after the little one, promise." Cassandra stroked your arm before standing next to Bela.

Daniela picked up your hand and looked up at her Mother. "It should be me lying here. His shots were meant for me, not you, you stupid little human. Why would you do that? It's not fair, you were supposed to be with us forever." Daniela wiped at her tears. "You said forever and now you're leaving us. Like two peas in a pod, you and Mother broke your promises. You stupid, stupid human, it should've been me." Daniela muttered those last few words to herself.

You gave her hand the tightest squeeze you could muster. "S-s-sor-sorry." Daniela brought your hand up to her mouth, her tears hitting the back of your hand. "Sorry."

Daniela pressed a kiss to your hand and then your forehead. "You better come back to us. I don't care how, just come back." Daniela whispered in your ear before she pushed herself up and went to stand with Bela and Cassandra.

Now it was Alcina's turn to say goodbye. You were fading faster, as your body was succumbing to your wounds.

"Y/N, my dear, tu esti totul pentru mine. Your spirit will live on in our child, I'm sure. She'll have your humour, your wisdom, and she'll have all of the love I can give her as I gave to you." Alcina placed one more kiss upon your forehead. "Goodbye, my love, may we meet again someday." Alcina went to rise but you moved your hand around to find hers. You could see her eyebrow raise through your fuzzy eyesight.

"Anastasia." You said softly. Alcina frowned. "Baby." You wheezed out.

Alcina smiled. "Anastasia. She who will rise again." Alcina said. "Sleep well, my darling. Our Anastasia will be taken care of." Alcina caressed your cheek before moving out of Mother Miranda's way.

You felt your eyes flutter close and you felt your breathing start to hurt less and less. Feeling the faint coldness of something against you as your breathing started to slow down. You heard soft cries as your hearing started to diminish. You felt at peace knowing that you were surrounded by the ones you called your family, knowing that they'd take great care of Anastasia. You felt at peace as you took your last breathe, your world now dark and quiet. As Mother Miranda had said while she sat beside you, "In each loss there is a gain, as in every gain there is a loss. and with each new ending comes a new beginning."

[shatteredfears-arch]

yes hi this may take two posts idk but if you played the maiden demo (bc its not as obvious main game) and notice that the ‘escape route’ planted to ingrid in game… well

when you escape the actual prison area, she’s led to one of the fire areas, and with everything being locked except a specific path (yeah yeah ‘game demo reasons’ but given context it feels more nefarious than that) theres a

pretty dang

clear path

thats been expected here

and it literally fucking leads

to a hole in the wall

youre being led straight to one of daughters rooms (sometimes cassandra can attack in it. i still think its bela’s room bc of the white dresses, but in theory it does make more sense for it to be cassandra’s room because bela wouldnt accept a path to the dungeons in her wall. cassandra would.

plus with how lady d shows up at the end… its pretty clear, in my opinion, that there wasnt someone leaving a note for ingrid to escape with. esp cause, why would they come back and leave a note anyways? nah ingrid was set up as a hunting exercise for the girls (tho it seems only cass took involvement) and momma cina. maybe it was to ‘test’ if she was ‘worthy’ of joining, since clearly they did the full experiments on her after her escape attempts and getting impaled by mommas claws, but she was naive to think someone was trying to help her escape.

also ingrid references being taken plenty of times, all things considered, but never once mentions the experiments taking place on her. some of the files imply she was favorable during what experiments miranda allowed cina to do, and tbf… ethan can find the healing agent in the household. i wouldnt be surprised if they just poured the agent on her after almost killing her so the megamycete had a chance to dig in before more experiments took place. and after cina and cass had their bonding moment.

also, heres a bonus hand sticking out of a wine barrell.

[the-witches-you-couldnt-burn]

When it all falls down

Hi guys! The next chapter is here! I just wanted to say I don’t really have a update schedule so it will most likely be updated every few days. I’ve pre-written most of this fic (or at least planned it) so as long as I don’t lose motivation it will be completed!

Ao3

Story Masterlist

——————————

CHAPTER TWO: The call from the catacombs

Warnings: threats, mentions of kidnapping & death

“I don’t need guards surrounding me constantly, father. I may be of royal bloodline, but I am no weakling.”

He was the crown prince and a trained assassin, yet he was babied similar to when he first arrived at the manor. His family smothered him.

After the coup he was taken into his father’s protection, and although he was born of his mother’s sexual misdeeds, his father treated him the same as his brothers. The first of his father’s charges that he met was Timothy Drake. Drake took part in Wayne Trading and became a successful merchant (but the majority of Gotham’s coffee supply mysteriously disappeared overnight). Then Damian met the Wayne clan’s eldest ward Sir Grayson, he was a famous knight in not only Gotham but Blüdhaven too.

He bonded with them along with his new sisters; Lady Barbara from the Gordon House, Stephanie Brown, Helena Wayne (his toddler sister by blood, conceived from his father’s Union with Countess Kyle) and Cassandra Cain. He had met Cain prior due to her mother being Lady Shiva, a close associate to his mother and grandfather. The reunion between Bruce’s third male charge and the young prince was awkward to say the least. During Jason’s MIA period of his life, he was ‘taken-in’ (aka kidnapped) by the royals and took on a guardian role for Damian (who was only a toddler at the time). The two silently conversed and as the tension faded it lead to constant rough housing and insults being thrown.

He lived and learned from his family until he was nineteen. At nineteen he had an argument with his father about his family’s smothering nature. Lord Wayne agreed they were being a bit much and lessened the security presence that followed his only blood son. After which he was promptly kidnapped by his mother and forced into an arranged marriage, to which the Wayne clan wasn’t even invited to witness.

And now here he was, months later, married and without the ability to contact his found family. Here he was drinking fucking tea with his ‘chosen’ bride. Not much had changed between the him and the bluenette, they were just two strangers joined by a forced union. There were no loving touches, longing glances, consummation of marriage or any connection other than a bond between respected acquaintances.

They communed under the watchful eye of the palace servants. “Spies.” Damian hissed, seething under his breath. “They are nothing more than rats feasting on gossip.”

Marinette sat across from him, posture straight as a board. The couple were separated by the cotton tablecloth that was decorated with a vase of lilies and porcelain plates. A small feast fit for at least twelve sat before the two of them, all were delicacies from across the country and beyond the borders. Her pinky pointed outwards as she sipped the piping hot moli longzhu, a playful smirk danced across her features.

“Your mother has made sure that they have nothing else to eat other than hearsay.”

Although he had been tempered by his father’s teachings, a fire flared within him. If anyone heard her it surely would be reported back to his family; the aftermath wouldn’t be pretty. No this wasn’t him protecting her, he was protecting himself, if someone heard her and it spread another ‘incident’ could occur. No matter the outcome, it wouldn’t end well.

Marinette tilted her head, raising an eyebrow at him, delivering a silent plea for him to challenge. He huffed looking away, her words were treasonous but true.

“You shouldn’t talk like that if you’d like to keep your tongue.”

“Aw, I’m glad to see you are looking out for me.” She quipped back, hand against her chest, mocking him. Her smile was wide and her eyes crinkled as she laughed. ‘Either she was insane or stupidly brave’ he thought as he watched her, ‘what had mother gotten him in to?’

“I’m looking out for myself.” He stood up and brushed off dirt from his garb. “If you make a fool out of yourself, it reflects badly on the Kingdom and I. You said yourself, you wouldn’t burden me through the bonds of matrimony, so don’t make this harder then it already is.”

She sat there in shock silence. Her jest was nothing more then that, she never meant it to cause him harm. She didn’t mean to burden him. She eyed him as he walked down the path. She sat in the pagoda, alone. ‘He was right’ she thought, ‘I need to be careful with my words. Not only for my safety but for my people also. I don’t want my actions to cause them harm.’

Later, when she finally saw fit to reenter the castle, she wandered the desolate hallways. League Castle held few materialistic decorations that didn’t serve a functional purpose. So paintings were no where insight. The only form of artwork she knew of was a sculpture of the late King, his majesty Ra al Ghul.

She looked down at the sculpture from a second story window. It lived in the confines of the royal gardens, atop a grand fountain display. She remembered hearing of the coup when she was just a child. ‘The King was killed and the prince was exiled’ but Lady Talia still ruled and the prince is back from his supposed banishment. It didn’t make sense. And for that matter why was a ten year old exiled in the first place?

Her arm was yanked, spinning her around to face the she-demon herself. The Mistress’ nails threatened to break her skin, they were sharpened and resembled animal claws. The woman’s dark eyes made Marinette uncomfortable, ‘she seems to be on the verge of being unhinged.’

“Come.” It wasn’t like Marinette had a choice, Talia dragged her down the hallways. She stumbled every so often as she tried to keep up with the woman’s strides.

The two came upon a dead end. The bluenette looked forward confused, and before she could even question it, the bricks separated revealing a dingy staircase that descended into darkness. Turning towards her captor, she saw her grab a nearby torch that lit the hall, a brick slowly slid back into place. They followed the spiraling decline until they reach the bottom, the air down here was moist and musty.

The fire only lit a few feet in front of them. They had gone from walls made of polished marble brick to decaying wood and cracked stone. The flooring creaked underneath their steps, the torn carpet was worn by those only travelling one path. She held her breath trying to avoid breathing in the damp air, mould growing at the corners of the walls. Realising she hadn’t said anything until now, the shock of Damian’s words and her abduction by his mother had kept her silent. “Lady Talia? Wher—“

“Hush child.” The venom dripping from her tone was the opposite of one used to shush a toddler, Talia’s hand covered Marinette’s mouth, silencing any objections; the heat of the nearing flame caused her to flinch. “You must learn your place.”

‘Did she know!? Did she hear me?’ Her silent scream reverberated through her mind. The seed of dread in the pit of her stomach grew vines that restricted her limbs causing her to stumble. Her heart clenched, it now felt made of lead and weight heavily within her chest. It’s beating was similar to a drum. But still the dragging continued.

They happened upon a room. Said room looked to be an older, more dilapidated version of the castle’s throne room. There were torn tapestries and fractured tables, it was like the souls of the ancient couldn’t escape this place fast enough. It’s whole atmosphere was eerie. “This castle was built from the ashes of the former empire.”

Marinette suppressed a gasp, she was right. Everything and everyone had told her she was wrong, she saw the shaking of their heads and heard them debunking her theories. The king was alive and the prince was never exiled.

The king was alive.

Taglist:

@thesunniestdays @jayjayspixiepop @toodaloo-kangaroo