#I have an idea that her spine gets fucked in a fight in apocalypse world and they don't have time to rebuild her body before they leave

[prismatica-the-strange]

Look, spoiler alert, but Ada fucking dies at one point. Like properly dies.

She only gets to come back because Hector gets to the Forge before it's destroyed. Ada's mind isn't as old or as full as James Delos's and that's why it works.

Now, you may be asking me, 'But Prisma! It takes ages to design and make a host so how-'

This is why I left Lee alive! Haha! When Hector was being glitchy after Ada couldn't come to the park, Lee started working on a host replication of her to get him to work properly.

He knew her real person wasn't long for this world, so he was waiting for her to die before he put the host in rotation. So yeah, Delos just happened to have a vacant Adeline Rooney bot ready for her.

[gojos-sidepiece-69]

Tokyo Tech Training- Chapter 4

How was it only Tuesday? You groaned and put your hands over your eyes, slowly sitting up in your bed. You had just had a nice, dreamless sleep: no blindfolds, no stupid jokes, no stupidly moisturized lips (that belonged to a certain man whore) anywhere to be seen. You racked your brain trying to figure out how any of this could have possibly happened within the span of your first four days in the Jujutsu world. The whiplash from the most eventful weekend of your life started to kick in, heavily.

Your feet dangled over the edge of your bed, and you sighed deeply, touching at the bruised flesh on your hips. You pulled the band of your pajama pants down slightly, gaping at the state of your thighs. You couldn’t tell whether the crescent-shaped indents and the violent branding of love bites were from Gojo or...Sukuna. You let out a small laugh at the insanity of the situation.

To your luck and great relief, the higher-ups had ordered a restful “team-bonding” day. From what you had heard, Megumi and Nobara had taken quite the beating as well. Their mission with Nanami to exorcise a certain high-grade curse with patchwork skin proved to be unsuccessful, as the evil thing escaped without a trace into the sewer systems. You pushed your door open and joined your fellow first-years in the hallway. There was a certain comfort in seeing the four of you together, all tired and scarred and bruised, but still smiling nonetheless (except for the ever-deadpanned Megumi). “Hey, I know what we can do today!” Nobara suggested excitedly. “Let’s go movie-hopping!”

Yuji started jumping up and down quickly. “Yes, yes, let’s do it! What movies are they showing today?! Hopefully something with Jennifer Lawrence in it,” he drooled. Megumi rolled his eyes, but nodded. “If I see any curses, though, I’m going to be upset. This was our day to recover.” You agreed with the movie-hopping idea, glad that you could have just one more day to yourselves, doing normal teenager things.

Half an hour later, you met up with your classmates at the front gates of Tokyo Tech, and started on your stroll downtown. “Hey, Y/n, what’s with the limp?” Nobara chuckled as she took in your pathetic attempt to walk straight. “The curse get you that badly?” You nodded at her, sheepishly thinking about how the damage from that curse was the least of your concerns. Yuji immediately patted himself. “Hop on,” he told you, signaling you to jump onto his back. “You want to give me a piggy back ride?” You smiled and teased him; his sincerity and concern was genuine, and it made your heart warmer.

You climbed onto his back and he continued walking as though he was weightless. Damn, you thought enviously. How did he recover so quickly? Yuji animatedly and dramatically described yesterday’s encounter to his friends. He was talking so fast you could barely keep up: “...and there were spikes, and the finger was caged between the teeth, and ... and, then I had to switch with Sukuna or we would’ve died! !! !!! And I can’t remember a thing after that. Oh, did you guys like your Mickey Mouse keychains?” Nobara gushed about how cute the souvenir was, and the two of you discussed how much you loved being in Tokyo. You took in the street vendors around you, the big flashing, neon lights, and the vibrant storefronts. Everything you laid your eyes on was so interesting and new, but couldn’t help but find yourself thinking about the view from above...38 floors above.

You shook your head and tried to forget about him. Why did your mind always have to wander back to him? No, you still didn’t care. “We’re here!!” Yuji shook you out of your intrusive thoughts as he announced your arrival in front of the Toho Cinema. You gaped at the marvelous glass building, serotonin boosting by the minute. “What are we watching?” You asked after you all pushed inside. Of course, it only took a second for the three get into a heated argument about which movie they would see first.

“We’re watching the showing of Back to the Future!” Yuji pouted, and Nobara was quick to yell, “Hell no! The freaky old man scares me!” Then Megumi suggested, “How about Fight Club?” and Nobara stamped her foot. “No violence today. I don’t need to see a skinny Brad Pitt with blood spurting out of his nostrils for two hours straight,” and you nodded in accord. After two more minutes of heated debate, you settled on Fast and Furious, because of its perfect blend of early-2000s tomfoolery, corny dialogue, and sexy (but ridiculous) car chases.

You sat sandwiched between Nobara and Itadori, and made the regrettable decision of holding the food tray in your lap. You could barely hear the furious engines revving over the sound of Yuji and Nobara greedily scooping popcorn and dropping sour gummy worms everywhere. Yuji repeatedly slurped his coke (which he for some reason preferred watered down) at maximum volume. Megumi was intently staring at the screen, and you made eye contact with him a few times and exchanged friendly eye rolls. The four of you exited the theater after the movie, and were about to commence your second round of argument for the next choice when your eyes almost popped out of their sockets. Sukuna’s devilish mouth made an appearance on Yuji’s right cheek. This couldn’t be good.

Before Yuji could slap it away, it spoke. “Y/n has a little secret to tell you guys. Go on, tell them,” he provoked you. The three turned to you, looking slightly confused. “Huh? I-I have no idea what he’s talking about,” you rushed. “Come on, you don’t want them to know how much fun we had together yesterday? Oh, maybe your friends don’t know that side of you yet; surprising, because I could tell just from the redness of your cheeks how much you enjoyed being called a slut. Anyways, if you don’t tell them, I will,” Sukuna’s mouth continued in a bored tone. You went to sharply slap your hand right across Yuji’s face, but his reflexes were too fast.

“He’s talking nonsense, guys,” you pleaded with their eyes. Before any of them could speak, Sukuna laughed and yelled, “I fucked her! And she was screaming and arching her back for me like she’d been deprived of dick her whole life! Don’t let her innocence fool you, she’s nothing but a whore!” He laughed once more and retreated back into Yuji’s skin.

You were so shocked that you couldn’t move. “What the fuck,” Megumi said, his usually half-lidded eyes widening. “Is it true?” Nobara asked. “Is that why you could barely walk today? Was it that big?” While those two were quietly asking questions in shock and utter disbelief, your pink-haired companion went completely ballistic. “I CAN’T REMEMBER ANY OF THIS. WHY WOULD HE DO THAT?!!! I DON’T UNDERSTAND...I’M NEVER SWITCHING WITH THAT IDIOT AGAIN!” He continued to have a system malfunction and babble, but your shame and embarrassment grew. You felt a slight pinch of anger forming as you realized that Gojo hadn’t explained anything to Yuji yet, even though he said he would. Yuji didn’t know about Sukuna’s deal yet.

“Was it...did you want to do it? I have to make sure. Because if you didn’t, I’ll kill that bastard right now with my own two hands” Nobara said. You swallowed the growing lump in your throat and nodded shamefully. “I wanted to.” “He’s taken so many innocent lives,” Megumi said quietly, and looked away. “Who’s side are you on?” Your shoes began to look really interesting, and you managed a weak, “I...didn’t want you guys to find out. It’s okay, you don’t have to worry about me. It’s extremely hard to explain, but I-you’re just going to have to trust me when I say I’ll be okay. There’s a...a reason I’m doing it.” Even saying it out loud sounded ridiculous. You had no guarantee that you would leave this arrangement unscathed, no guarantee except for...whatever Gojo’s protection had to offer.

There was no guarantee, either, that keeping up your end of the bargain would even save lives. “DID HE HURT YOU? DID I HURT YOU?” Yuji grabbed your shoulders and forced you to look up. “No, no. I’m good,” you answered. You were glad that your friends had your back, but extremely ashamed that you had let all of them down for your own selfish reasons. To play a game and keep a certain person jealous. What made you feel even worse, though, was the fact that you secretly didn’t want that game to end.

Yuji, sensing the tension, broke the silence. “All right, no more arguing. We’re going to go watch World War Z and forget that ever happened.” You were so grateful when him and Nobara took you by the arms and dragged you into another theater, Megumi following behind. Even if it was a zombie apocalypse movie, you needed the escape. “And more popcorn!” Yuji enthusiastically suggested, bolting to get another large bucket and then coming back within two seconds.

You tried, again, to focus on the movie but this time you weren’t distracted by you’re friends’ prodding elbows and crunching noises. It was the looming fear of what Sukuna was going to do to you day after tomorrow. The thought of his evil grin and sheer strength sent chills down your spine, and you sat up straight. You looked at Yuji for a minute, wondering if the king of curses was watching you writhe with nervousness right now. He was probably enjoying feeding off of your fear, you thought. And you were right. He was.

🌹

[what---i-dated-a]

You get the Leverage Crew on your zombie apocalypse team. What are you looking forward to the most from each of them?

This is probably honestly the best zombie apocalypse team ever if I’m being totally honest.

First off, this group would not be a “team” so much as a “society,” because if there’s anybody out there who can actually pull off a Walking Dead Alexandria style set up, it’s Team Leverage.

Okay so obviously I’m going to have Eliot and Parker tag-team supply runs. They’d have this shit in the bag, and they’d be able to get in and out of places that literally nobody else could manage. I know that there are people (idiots) in the world who wanna hole up in, like, a Costco, because SUPPLIES FOR DAYS, and they always forget that those places are absolutely gonna be teeming with zombies because everyone else thought the exact same thing, duh. Shortly into the apocalypse, those places are still wall to wall supplies, but nobody can get at it because it’s overrun. But Eliot and Parker can fucking do it.

They take a small crew of carefully selected and trained people with them, because obviously. Eliot teaches everybody how to fight (in case of Bad People), how to make a headshot (in case of zombies), and how to de-escalate (in case of Scared People). He still doesn’t like guns, which is good because they’re gonna run out of bullets eventually. Everybody on his crew knows how to down a zombie with a knife. Parker, meanwhile, teaches them everything they need to know to ensure this is only occasionally necessary, how to sneak and avoid detection and hide, and how to get into places no zombie is smart enough to squeeze. Her people are like ghosts; there are rumors in the area of a group of ninja-like figures that come and go on the wind, clearing out medical supplies and sometimes taking people with them. Honestly, finding new people is their favorite part of the job; they like saving people.

Hardison’s the getaway driver in that scenario for a more on-the-ground job, but when he’s not doing that, he’s basically managing infrastructure. He’s keeping the place running on a maintenance level. He has spreadsheets and files and tracks everything and everybody. He and Sophie tag team meetings with new arrivals, so she can get a read on them to determine if they’re trustworthy, and he can take notes and figure out where they fit in. He’s also the reason they’ve still got electricity, because man knows how to manage resources. No internet, but you don’t need internet if you’ve got a fucking NES, and he does. A lot of them, actually. One of the first things he did after they founded their little township was send Parker and Eliot to all the nearby vintage game and movie shops for any- and- everything that could be used as entertainment, because that’s how you keep people from going all murder-y, okay?

Sophie, meanwhile, is managing the social aspect of the place, setting up meet-and-greets for newcomers, assigning housing, keeping things running and keeping tabs on people. She’s putting her people skills to their best use, making sure that the right people are being watched and the right ones are being left alone. Nobody would know it, but the housing assignments are extremely carefully cultivated, to ensure everybody’s getting neighbors they can get along with. It won’t do them any good, after all, if unrest among the residents makes the town itself more dangerous than the dead. And if there’s a few newly formed couples, or orphans finding their perfect homes, well. She’s very good at her job.

Nate, of course, is the de facto leader. Newcomers don’t always understand it, because he’s hardly intimidating, or imposing, or even really all that impressive. He’s good at pulling the soft, easy-going act to try and make people relax. If they’ve been outside long enough, that confuses them, because why the hell is this guy in charge? This middle-aged, unassuming, quiet man doesn’t have the strength to protect, the spine to lead! But if they cause trouble, he proves them wrong pretty quick, with a few quiet comments here and there, a threat if they’re particularly dangerous. There’s trouble, of course, but Sophie usually manages it well enough, and when that fails, well, there’s always Eliot. He doesn’t like going that route, of course, but sometimes there’s no choice. He’s fair, and firm, and A Good Man, but he’s also not afraid of doing what needs to be done. A threat to his home, to his family, is not one he takes lightly. People who don’t get expelled (or worse) learn to respect him, and some of them even actually like him.

I’m shelving this for a fic idea. Dunno if I’ll ever have the spoons to write it, but for once, I don’t need plot. In a zombie apocalypse, the plot kinda writes itself.

[chartedrights]

Golden Age AU Masterpost

For everyone lacking context, the Golden Age AU is just me riffing on every piece of comic book media I’ve ever consumed. Here are some single-paragraph rundowns I’ve made to keep track of things as I start to write!

The Board of Directors is analogous to the Justice League- they’re pretty much entirely people with superpowers (with the exception of Carol, at first), they’re very prestigious, and they come together to ward off larger threats like the impressive super powered task force they are. Or they used to. Membership’s sort of dropped, and people with powers are getting harder to find and recruit, and the big headliner who ran it left it in the hands of some nurse, which is like. So not sexy.

PEIP is PEIP- they fit right in where they were. In the shadows, in the dark, fighting the threats that the “special people” won’t, protecting people on a lower level than “oh god, the apocalypse,” because apparently the superheroes aren’t concerned with espionage or alien meteors anymore. The pricks. Mostly run by people without superpowers- as far as they know- and deeply concerned with keeping heroes responsible for their own actions. They would be oversight, if they were allowed to be.

CCRP Technical is an interesting place. Charlotte and Ted work there, for Sam, though neither of them is quite sure what it actually does. Paul was recruited in hopes he’d grow into upper management, but he didn’t have the ambition for it. Bill has been there for a decade or two now, ever since he started attending those meetings with Becky and Mrs. Davidson. Melissa... Melissa is their rising star. Mr. Davidson isn’t sure what they found in her, but he’s glad to see her succeed! Good for her! Four for you Melissa, you go Melissa!

Hatchetfield.... is Hatchetfield. It’s small, it’s insular, it’s full of gossip and weirdness and people with eccentric ideas of morality. It might be easier to admit that superheroes and supervillains exist, but let nobody say that the citizens of Hatchetfield ever took the easy road. They will walk uphill, in the snow, denying the supernatural both ways.

Paul is a real sweetheart. He’s autistic, he’s quiet, he likes his routine and the simple pleasures in life... and he just happens to be unkillable and he maybe possibly sort of has the ability to fly. He could be an excellent addition to either team, but he refuses to be a proper superhero, making him Hatchetfield’s most obvious target. Which in turn means that he often ends up acting like a proper superhero against his own will. He thinks Emma is perfectly lovely and still hasn’t noticed her committing crimes.

Emma is Hidgens’ Lab Assistant, which is code for “committing crimes for college credit,” and she does a lot of the footwork for him. Being a henchman definitely tops food service, lets put it that way. She also gets to follow in the family business- a long line of Perkins supervillains ended when Jane broke free and became a real hero for Tom’s sake. She always wanted to be a good person, but Emma is not as opposed to violence. She also cannot wait for Hidgens to level Hatchetfield, which is made complicated by the fact that she likes Paul rather a lot, and he likes Hatchetfield.

Hidgens is a supervillain. He never leaves his house, orchestrates incidents of immense damage to the civic infrastructure, and refuses to acknowledge that just maybe putting children into the path of radioactive chemicals is not a valid scientific experiment. He’s not necessarily a bad person, it’s just that his morals refute even the idea of black and white. More like blue and red. Orange and green. He is of the opinion that world peace can only be achieved by world domination, and therefore has begun a track to world domination. He and Sam have a blood feud of indeterminate origin.

Becky Barnes, low-level healer and walking anesthetic, somehow ended up in charge of the Board of Directors. The last leader disappeared three days after handing off control, and Becky is still looking for them. Becky is very conspicuously not looking for her ex-husband, however. It makes some people suspicious, and nobody more than Sam, who is Stanley’s most obnoxious cousin. Apparently, ruining Becky’s life runs in the family. Despite these troubling events, Becky does her best to keep the city standing and the world turning- she and Bill manage what they can, Carol and PEIP manage what they can’t. She’s still in a precarious place, however, and she’s looking for help.

Frank Pricely supplies everyone with gadgets. Hero and villain alike, everyone pays. Not always the same price, but everyone pays. He’s a neutral party, and he acts the part, but everybody likes to debate his loyalties. There’s no such thing as truly neutral, right? Everyone has their price- even him. It’s just a matter of what that price is.

Lex is his cashier, which means that she learned early on in her career in retail that the panic button is not half as good a first resort as the paralysis darts Frank keeps in the cash drawer. She has the ability to manifest objects, as long as she knows where they are. She needs a concrete location to pull them away from, which means that she snoops in every house she visits, checks the staff rooms of every store she enters. She can, on command, find you just about anything you need. For a price. She’s learning a lot lately, though, and what she learns about her powers might put her at risk.

Bill is one of the few members of the Board of Directors still standing. He and Becky get coffee all the time, and commiserate about the lack of help in Hatchetfield. He has telepathy, and certain illusionary abilities, which come in especially handy when he’s talking people down or trying to sneak hostages out of hostage situations. A gentle, well-intentioned man, Bill is not outwardly very intimidating, but he’s strong. Much stronger than most people would like to think. Becky keeps trying to hand off leadership to him, and he gently hands it back every time- he’s got other problems to deal with right now.

Formerly married to the infamous Perkins family heiress, Tom tries to live a nice, quiet life. He used to be a hero- and a damn good one- but Jane defected for him, and then died for it, and he carries more guilt than he probably should. Tom never thought of himself as special, really, and he still doesn’t. He can warp matter- twist it into shape, turn it from one thing to another, and he’s a fine craftsman when he wants to be. But it’s a dangerous thing to have on hand when you’re angry or frightened, and Tom still has an awful case of PTSD hanging around his neck. He’s doing his best to wrangle with it, but he’s going to need some help.

Ethan is just a teenager. Really, he promises. He absolutely swears. Nothing special about him! He’s just real intuitive! He and Lex have been looking into that whole “experimentation” thing they did at CCRP back when they were babies and it wasn’t even interesting! He’s just a mechanic, honestly. He’s a straight C student! He hasn’t even joined the cult off the coast on that houseboat!! He’s a good kid. No reason to be concerned at all.

Ted is also Hidgens’ henchman, but definitely the lower-ranked of the two. He applied hoping he’d make some friends, but thus far all he’s managed to do is fall in love with Charlotte, who is Sam’s henchman. It’s not going badly for him, but it’s not going well, either. He and Paul still work together. Every time Hidgens asks, Ted is like “Paul? Nah. He’s totally normal.”

Gary is a mob lawyer. He used to work for Emma’s family, but now he works for Sherman and Linda. They’re technically competition, and if they ever find out that he’s playing both sides he’ll absolutely die, but in the meantime he is racking up that cash. He is so rich. He is capable of great evil, and occasionally does terrible things, but overall he’s an affable guy. He and Charlotte had an unfortunate tryst once that ended with her tying him to the Welcome to Hatchetfield sign with his own scarf, but he still pines for her. She’s the one that got away. And continues to get away. cops hate her: local woman refuses to go to jail.

MacNamara still works for PEIP, which is only slightly a different job, on account of there being very public superheroes in this world. He and Xander have been married for ten years, but they are both under the (mistaken) impression that it wasn’t a real marriage because it was done undercover. He thinks about that and is very sad about it sometimes. But they’re partners, and that’s good enough that he can be content with it. For now. He has the ability to intensify or nullify other people’s superpowers, and he does his best to keep it quiet. He thinks there’s something noble about living without superpowers, and vaguely wishes that he and Chad’s roles were swapped- until he remembers that Chad has one (1) brain cell to his name.

Xander has the ability to speak to computers. It’s not flashy, at first glance. It doesn’t have the pizzazz of Paul’s gifts or the subtle mind fuckery of John and Bill’s. But he can know whatever he wants, can hear anything, tap any phone call, look through any webcam. He doesn’t, because he’s not a fucking creep, but he can. PEIP was lucky to find him before CCRP- and so was everyone else in the world. Xander’s not flashy in general- he keeps a lot to himself. He and John have been partners for a long time, and they still haven’t said they love each other. He still hasn’t told John that he’s a member of the Board. He still hasn’t told John that he and Paul are in the same book club.

Schaffer doesn’t need powers. You think she needs powers? Her power is that she breathes and death turns away. PEIP was built by good people like Schaffer, people with principles and strong hearts and ice cold spines of steel. Normal, human people, unremarkable except that they chose to be better. She’s fourth-generation PEIP, born and raised to believe in the service they do, the protection they provide. Some of the more bitter agents will say that Schaffer benefitted from nepotism. They will never say this in front of her, because deep down they know she did not and they know that she will prove it by kicking their asses. She and Carol used to date, but the strain of crossing enemy lines in what was, essentially, a Cold War between PEIP and the Board got to them both. Schaffer is the person Hidgens called after he got struck by lightning.

Charlotte is Sam’s henchman and quietly in the running for longest con ever pulled. One day she is going to off him and take his place as the leading supervillain in Hatchetfield, but that day is not today. She likes Ted, but Sam keeps telling her to kill him, so their relationship amounts to “the inherent eroticism of trying to murder each other”. Nobody is entirely certain how she does what she does, but she’s very, very good at her job. Emma looks up to her just a little. She had a therapist once. He tried to sleep with her. She no longer has a therapist. She does have a very lovely goldfish, however.

Mr. Davidson is MacNamara’s twin brother and Hidgens’ ex. His wife is a genuine bona fide Batman-level hero in a bigger city, so he occasionally gets kidnapped or tortured. Hidgens still writes him bitter and mildly threatening love ballads that he genuinely treasures and sends very heartfelt thank you notes for. His life is so messy. There’s so much drama. He’s also completely powerless and cheerful about it. (Re: the Working Boys.... he’s Chad. Chad MacNamara Davidson.)

Alice is developing absolutely no superpowers and she’s really really annoyed about it. She used to take this out on Lex, as teenagers will, but after Lex dropped out she began to regret that. Too little and much too late, but regret is regret. She keeps trying to mend that bridge, but it’s not working. Unfortunately for her, she’s still been seen with Lex and Ethan, and that’s enough. Imminent danger perceives no difference between friend and foe. Alice is full of a very different kind of potential, however, and sooner or later all that bottled-up anger and stress will lash out.

Deb, on the other hand, is an intern at the Board of Directors’ headquarters, which is now St. Damien’s given that Becky is in charge. Interns for heroes are much less common than henchmen working for villains, but Deb has a keen interest in coordination and overseeing operations. Bill hates having her on comms for missions, but she’s just... so good at her job. She can brew a pot of Red Bull twice-steeped coffee, arrange a date with Alice, avoid an international incident, redirect PEIP and talk Bill through defusing a bomb in the same ten-minute stretch. Lesbians can do anything. This is a fact. They are the backbone of our society.

Hot Chocolate Boy is full of secrets. And hot chocolate.

And speaking of St. Damien’s, do you recall poor Bridgette, who lost her eyesight in a horrible accident? I’m not saying Hatchetfield is going to have it’s very own Matt Murdock expy, but I am saying that. She’s blind, she’s Catholic, and she’s coming for your kneecaps.

Linda is a very low-level villain who operates out of her husband’s office and sics her Boating Club on people. Gerald should technically be a threat, given that it’s the Monroe family prerogative to slaughter rising heroes with an alacrity that distinguished them from all the other families in Hatchetfield. He is not. He’s barely even a henchman. Linda got all the bloodlust between the two of them, and she is out for blood from the start. Though initially quickly defeated, she grows in seriousness over the course of time and ends up a formidable threat with a weighty grudge against Becky and Lex. She’s not much in a physical fight, Linda, but she is deeply, deeply vindictive, and she’s willing to make any deals she has to to bring Becky down. Any deals. With anyone. Anything.

Sherman Young is a mob boss, and you know it. He’s a real creep and he’s got some sick hobbies, even for a man in his line of work, but somehow the 80s jacket and the comb-over mullet make it all worse. He’s the richest man in town, and that’s saying something, but if Linda has a say in things he won’t be for long. The Youngs, the Monroes, and the Perkins have been at war since the founding of the town, and Sherman is cutting down his competition. He might have even arranged for Jane’s accident to happen, but nobody is sure. Nobody living, anyway.

Sam is a villain. He’s not super or anything. He’s just a villain. He’s top-tier Joker-level normie, but he still goes toe-to-toe with all kinds of heroes. Notable for being pretty much exactly the same as his show counterpart in regards to his proclivity for threats and violence. He once told Paul to “talk to his fucking gun” only to find that Paul is, despite all outward appearances, fucking immortal. He is still very embarrassed about it. He’s up and coming in the Hatchetfield Villain circuit, but he’s definitely a threat. To who? Who can say. Somebody, somewhere.

Papa Ed is a PEIP informant, and he has the ability to speak to animals. He’s raising Peanuts to be a very small, very enthusiastic little squirrel spy.

Man in a Hurry is a former speedster who lost his powers and compensates for it by Being In A Hurry at all times.

Homeless Man is a CCRP agent. He specializes in camouflage and compassion. He doesn’t remember what came before, but he knows something did, and finding out what it was is all he has left to hope for.

Howard Goodman does not have superpowers, but he’s got gumption. Okay, I lied. He doesn’t have gumption. But he’s a very nice man.

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

Mission Turn It Up In The Club (It’s The Avengers)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

ONE SHOT

Warnings: fluff, dirty brains, drunk babbies, cutest allies, shocked fathers, confused jocks.

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline   Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

One Shot: When Thor indirectly challenges you- a complete noob with zero knowledge of espionage- to go on a relatively easy mission and get some intel, you accept it, never really ready for what's about to happen. And the camera crew records it all.

Word Count: Never underestimate the power of your inner voice because boy does it make you feel amazing about yourself sometimes!

Written for @captain-kelli 500 Fam Writing Challenge. Thank you so much for letting me participate! I picked the Quote (not a dialogue) : There is no limit to what we, as women, can accomplish.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

You come with your shades over your eyes and a yoghurt smoothie in your hand, and sit down on the chair in the recording room, adjusting your 'noice and toit' t-shirt before looking in the direction of the equipment. Clearing your throat and shifting back in the chair- going as back as you possibly can- you nod at Javier and get ready for the camera to roll, never taking off the shades.

You: *sighs* *rests face on your palm* *in a coarse incomprehensible voice* It all star- *tries to clear the coarseness of the throat* ahem ahem *makes bleching noises before groaning* *stops* *sighs* Hmm...where were we? *looks straight past the camera at Javier with half-open lips* Right...right. *looks back at the camera* *lips still half-open* It all started yesterday when a stupid b**** tried to become over smart.

Twenty-Four Hours Earlier

Everyone sat in the lounge of the Avengers Compound reading the reports that had just come in from Fury about a cartel trying to traffic alien wreckage- mostly weapons- to the black market. That 'everyone' excluded you, your adopted dog Zuko, and a very unamused and unbothered Loki sitting on the raised platform by the french windows with a copy of Sapiens and your favourite mug filled with hot tea.

The camera zoomed in on you concentrated on writing something on your laptop; so engrossed you were that you never noticed when Clint quietly gorged on your choco-chip cookies and drank your orange juice.

"But we only have to gather intel from a couple of guys meeting in the city today?"

Thor- who was finally at an Avengers meet after getting things in order for his Asgardians somewhere in Norway in their 'new Asgard'- pshd at the tablet in his hands and chuckled.

"Gather intel. Is that the human way to say drink some beer with these filthy humans and let them talk everything about their plan?"

"Damn right," everyone around him muttered.

"So easy even Y/N could do it," he chortled, catching your ears and a long sigh from the God sitting by the window enjoying the sun.

"Woah, now," Tony interjected, slapping Thor's shoulder with the back of his hand, "don't give her any ideas."

You narrowed your eyes at Tony. "I'm sure if Thor says I can do it-"

"Thor also said none of you ladies can process Asgardian mead," Clint added, buried in the sofa next to you, his tablet acting as a shield against the warm early afternoon sun.

Flashback to a party at the compound

Sam wobbled, trying to stand with the support of the bar while Clint kept muttering ‘I think I can see inside you guys. Like, really see.’ Bruce was being consoled by Thor in one corner. “The big guy hates me, Thor. He doesn’t-he doesn’t love me at aaaalllllll.” Scott and Bucky tried to wager who pin the donkey. The former didn’t even get to hold the tail in his hand. While all this mayhem unfurled, Natasha and Wanda sat by the bar recording everything on their phone while sipping their third Asgardian mead cocktail. “We should do this more often,” Natasha had suggested at one point during at night.

"I don’t get how you can't process it after the first buzz," Natasha called out from the dining table, never looking away from her tablet but still smiling.

"I'll sit this one out," Thor declared, sitting next to you, "I'm sure the Black Widow or Wanda can handle that."

You looked at him with an unwavering gaze for quite some time, making Thor uncomfortable after a certain point. Loki, who had caught you through the whole shebang, had a soft smile creeping on his face on watching you make his brother so uncomfortable.

"Wow," you finally spoke, letting your head move with the exclamation, "you are such a jock, aren't you?"

"A what?"

Loki: *smirks**snickers**snickers turn into uncontrollable laughter**continues laughing**stops midway with a serious look to shout* FINALLY!

"You don't want to go because there won't be any fighting and show of power," you state, turning yourself towards him, "and having conversations with guys seems too boring. Mostly because of your hate for bad guys. You know they won't give you answers straight away if you ask them politely, which I know you hate. So the next step is- 'why can't we just beat the shit out of them after they gave up on my offer to tell everything like good boys?'."

Thor: *crinkled brows* ...we can't? *looks behind the camera* why can't we? 

Tony and Steve stood next to each other- former's brows creased, latter's raised, both in a bit of admiration shock- taking in your breakdown. Finally, Steve leaned a little towards Tony to whisper, "did she just profile Thor?"

"Oh, yeah," Tony answered on the same wavelength before Steve could even finish his question, "she definitely did." He concluded with a smile filled with soft pride.

 "You know what, I'll take it," you casually declared to the lounge while leaning on the coffee table next to you. "Take what?" Steve asked, wanting to find out more of whatever was coming from your mouth. "The challenge," you shrugged, "I'll take up the part of getting some men to blabber about the locations. And while I'm at it, I'll get them to tell me about their boss' headquarters as well. Hmm?"

"Of course, you will," Tony chuckled softly in a trance for one second and furrowed his brows in confusion the next. "Wait, what?"

"You heard me," you announced in his direction before going back to whatever it is you were so busy doing on your laptop, leaving Tony to let his mouth open in displeasure.

"Young lady, you're not going anywhere near those sons of bitches."

Steve looked at the camera with a raised brow.

Steve: You know that moment when you see one of your best friends do everything reckless in this goddamn world, wanting you to curse him with having to once step in your shoes and see what it's like to keep him in check? *smiles with satisfaction* This is one of those days when you see it coming true. When God finally heard your prayers and sends that very friend's kid to make every one of your wishes come true. *nods* *gets serious* Though I'm against putting Y/N in danger. *shakes head* Would never let her do something as reckless as her biological father. *smirks* But damn it feels good.

 Tony: *narrows eyes at the camera* Is that what Captain Star-spangled underwear thinks? *Nods* Hm. *clicks tongue* Well, that day isn't far when I fund research led by Bruce to make super babies with Steve's *makes air quotes* super semen and make him go through the fate of a father and the burdens that come with it.

*Silence*

*camera pans out to show a very pregnant and a very weirded out Pepper sitting next to him with her head resting in her palm as she hears her husband talk*

Pepper: *looks into the void* *inhales* Or you could just make him the mentor for the young heroes in the compound and watch him struggle to get them in line. *shrugs* Better yet, let him be in charge of showing Loki the ropes.

Tony: *still silent* *looks into his void* *blinks* *tilts his head* *looks back at the camera* *smirks* Pepper?

Pepper: Hmm?

Tony: *turns to face her* Have I told you how much I admire your genius?

Pepper: *making circles on Tony's arm* *whispers suggestively* You have but I won't mind you saying it again.

Tony: Well, you are genius, darling. A genius with the power to create countries and throw dictators off their high horses.

Pepper: *raises her head from her palm with a glint in her eyes* *softly announces* Anthony Stark, we're going to your office and you won't stop saying all of it till I tell you to.

Tony: *feels a visible shudder go down his spine as Pepper gets up and walks away* Y-yes ma'am. *looks at the camera with a hint of disbelief*

Pepper: *from outside the room* Now!

*Tony rushes out*

.

The Confidential Club

The camera went from black to a few neon lights flickering in the distance. A heavy base song faded in when everything started coming into focus.

Don't get sick

Don't get strep

Don't get bronchitis

Aye

A soothing glow of blue lit up the walls, which the camera did a slow three-sixty, through which two figures- both tall, one slender and the other jacked up- walked in a sexy slo-mo as the club started another track.

So this money shit, yeah it's been on my mind

Fuck ya possy bitch

I'ma pop off a tonne with the tummy miss

Yea this how I slum I'm bout' to see some tits

Yea ya mummy is fine

Aye

The boys walked into the neon-grazed club glowing with a hue of red, their freshly shampooed hair bouncing with every step till these two stopped right when they entered the floor, scanning the club and the club doing the same to them, but with lost breaths, increased temperatures and some very dirty thoughts and very dirty moans.

I'm a good boy I don't hit no licks yeah

I'm a bad boy flexing with some chicks yuh

I'm a weird boy smokin' on some Brits yuh

Who dat boi

I'm that boy yuh

The slo-mo continued, recording every pair of eyes that turned to get a look at the brothers whose presence was electrifying the entire building. Ladies forgot their drinks and men, men forgot their dates and- with a swift internal jolt- their toxic masculinity and the genderless seemed to have found Gods in the club tonight.

We them bad boy come give baby kiss

We just dropped it now

Now the swallow kiss

Have to beg these ladies try to do the splits

Tryna get the boy to do the coochie little

People moved as if these Gods were gravity, walking under those flickering club lights and smoked room, hands trying to get a touch, eyes wanting to get just one sweet stare, legs wanting to get a little brush, the heat pooling inside them looking for just a little satisfaction.

Yea I'm Neo watch me on the Matrix

All these sussy boy I just implore I do not play with

Baby (Baby) sure you're crazy

Boy that gave me 8 bars and some new restraint

Who that boi

I'm that boi yuh

The blond locks seemed to find suggestive fingers in them, while some other stray ones roamed on Thor's chest. Loki watched his brother being surrounded with the crowd of thirsty thots, his face dripping with pure displeasure, letting the camera catch it frame by frame, with brilliant tilts, doing it till Loki was looking right at the lens.

Who that boi

I'm that boi yuh

Another camera standing a little further recorded Javier on his knees trying to catch Loki's displeasure and piercing eyes- at anyone who even suggested that they wanted to touch him- before he looked at Javier. "What are you doing?" Loki judged Javiers' slow camera tilts.

Javier raised his index finger for a few moments, still recording those sour expressions before giving a thumbs up, getting up and walking towards the crowd that had surrounded a quite flattered Thor.

With an eye roll in his brother's direction, Loki turned to find the other camera looking at him, quite possibly directing him somewhere else because the next moment he was looking away. The camera turned in the same direction to show- behind the crowd of mellow, drunk and horny people- you laughing with your head tilted backwards, sitting with a group of men he had seen in the report when he was forced by Thor to come on this stupid so-called mission with him.

You sat between four men, enthusiastically narrating something to your small audience with wide eyes and wildly moving arms, entertaining the viewers with intention known to them and these green eyes who could see right through every one of those scums.

The camera- swivelling between you and Loki- caught him walking towards you only to be stopped by a pale hand- carrying beautifully manicured nails in blood-red- landing on his chest.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Natasha suggested to the God with a bare hint of a smile on her lips.

Loki looked down at the Black Widow dressed in a body-hugging black dress. "Oh, I wasn't going to stop her from having some fun, I assure you," he implored.

Natasha brought her hand forward for Loki to take the earpiece in her hand. "She's got this. But you're welcome to listen in on the conversation," Natasha offered.

"My brother can fill in for me considering Y/N is already doing his job," he mentioned, pointing towards the crowd taking selfies with a giddy Thor making girls swoon all around him.

"Hot molten chocolate cake!" came a voice from the earpiece, loud enough for Loki sensitive ears and the recorders in all the devices to catch before the God could walk away.

"That's the safe word," Natasha declared into the earpiece, before turning to look at the table where you were.

"I really should go," you colourfully begged the man who had his hand wrapped around your arm, never letting go, "my girls must be waiting for me."

"Call your girls," the man holding you said, "we can all party in the private room upstairs."

"Call my girls?" you said a little louder as if asking Natasha what to do.

"On it." Loki heard another voice come through the comms, making Natasha's tensed back go straight.

"It's okay, Y/N," she confirmed into your earpiece, "go ahead. Tell them the girls can't wait."

The camera caught Natasha turning with a smirk that sent a cold shiver over the glowing dance floor, making Loki mirror that smirk, looking forward to it all.

The enthusiasm in Natasha's face was disturbed by some invisible ripple. "Where's Thor?"

 Other Side of the Club

Javier's camera showed the blond God sitting at the bar with at least twenty ladies huddled with him, handing him drinks.

"Now this one," a petite little girl stated, handing him a tall glass of Long Island Iced Tea. Thor happily took the glass, had a decent sip, gulped it down, furrowed his brows and smacked his lips.

"No," he finally declared, earning a cheer from the girls. "Not laced!" they shouted before handing him another girl's drink.

.

Upstairs

The camera stuck to the corners as it followed the men violating your private space, their arms around you, walking in front of and behind you, leaving no space whatsoever to look for any signs of the cavalry.

"Woah, guys, how about you go in and I'll go look for my sisters-"

"Oh, no," the one with a stubble and a nice jawline declared, "you're coming with us and your friends can follow. Come on, let's get some more alcohol in you!"

"Haha, yeah!" you pretended to cheer, stepping inside the room behind the guy with a ponytail, who stood in the middle of the living room like a statue for a good second.

"What the hell is this?" He announced more than he asked, pointing to Anna- the camera girl- sitting at the other end of the room, recording the entrance.

"Oh," you exclaimed in realisation, making all four men turn towards you, never noticing the door be closed by another figure in the room, "that's my camera gal. She follows me everywhere. My dad kinda got into this idea of making a documentary out of our lives so one of them is always around me except for when I'm studying or in the bathroom. But I have seen them recording me once or twice when I was in the librar-"

"Shut up!" The jawline guy roared, taking out a gun from his back, "Shut the f*** up! Rory, I told you she was a student. She'll fetch a good price on the market."

You wanted to be frightened by that gun but the camera caught you more in offended disbelief than in fearful shock. "Excuse me? How old do you think I am? Just because I'm studying, you little-minded bitch?! Learning has no age limit, you arrogant paedophiles!"

"Oh well," Jaw-guy shrugged, taking off his jacket, "you're no use to the bosses then. Looks like we'll have to make use of you. And your pretty friend there can record us doing it." He grinned, both at you and then at the camera.

Ponytails looked at you with a wrinkled forehead. "Something's wrong," he stated, taking a step close to you.

"What do you mean?" The guy in the brown leather jacket asked.

"Look at her," he answered, pointing towards you, "she isn't even sweating right now."

You looked at Ponytails with furrowed brows. "You've set the temperature quite low, dude. I'm practically shivering in here."

"That's actually true," Jacket acknowledged, nodding at you.

"No, you dumb fuckers! She isn't scared!"

Jaw had a moment of realisation at Pony's words, taking hurried steps towards you, grabbing you by your throat and pushing you into the wall behind you.

"Oh my Gaahd," you tried to exclaim through whatever air was able to pass through your lungs, as you felt your hand automatically go grab the one that was causing you pain.

"Who are you?" Jaw hissed through his teeth close to your face. "Who do you work for?"

Your brows lifted. An aching moan left your lungs. You took in a little gulp of air. "I never thought this is how it goes down."

"That's because you picked the wrong men to mess with, darlin'."

Your raised brows crinkled at Jaw's statement. "What?"

You: Oh, I was thinking about the horny wave I got when he tried to choke me. *stretches the corner of her mouth in embarrassment* Yeah, turns out not the first thought that should come to your mind when someone's trying to kill you. But on the bright side I discovered a kink so *does a thumb up with both hands with a big grin.*

"But we haven't even started messing with you boys yet."

The camera swirled from your agitated, flushed face to the doorway leading to the bedroom, catching a very disinterested Wanda leaning on the wall as she checked out her nails.

"Wow," you choked, "were you always this hot, Wanda?"

"Who the fuck is this? Who the fuck are you?" Ponytails pointed his gun at the Scarlet Witch in haste, bringing forth a plasmic red spark in between her fingers, which, with a little twist, made the man point his gun at his buddy.

Another camera entered through the door to catch Jaw pulling you away from the wall to hold you in a lock with his gun pointed to your head. "One wrong move and I blow her brains out, bitch."

"One wrong move and I'll be doing the same to you, bitch."

Natasha stood behind Jaw with a gun. "Let go of her before my friend and I paint these walls with your insides."

Jaw cursed her under his breath, taking a few moments before releasing you. You quickly walked to a safer corner of the room, next to the fireplace, breathing with ease now.

"Y/N," she called out, "you okay, sweetie?"

"Uhh...just a little light-headed. Otherwise, I'm good," you responded, finding yourself lowering your voice, "though I wish someone else was choking me right now." You looked at the camera and narrowed your eyes. "Don't you judge me," you criticised in a whisper at it, feeling yourself tilt to one side, losing your balance, already fearing to hit the floor before being caught by strong hands.

"Oh," you sang while the camera panned out from you and those pale hands to show Loki very gracefully breaking your fall, "Hey, handsome!"

Loki didn't even blink as he tried to bring you back on your feet. "Drinking on a mission? Really? I thought you were better than this."

"Ugh," you bleched at him, "shush! I was in my form with those gin shots, okay. These whiney thirsty boys were blabbering the moment I sat down. Let's see your brother pull that off-wait. Why are you here?"

The two of you were oblivious to the fight going in the background being recorded by the other camera; the Black Widow breaking bones like twigs while the Scarlet Witch was making them vomit on their fears.

"Oh, I wanted to see what petty excuse do you humans use to enjoy and forget this pathetic world-"

The camera panned in on you while someone outside the frame screamed and was thrown into a wall. You smiled with pure emotion in your eyes while looking at Loki.

"You didn't know we were here, did you?" you asked with that smile still stuck on your face.

"No."

"Thor dragged you here, didn't he?"

"I came here by my own accord."

"What did he blackmail you with this time?"

"...I wasn't blackmailed! No one can blackmail m-"

Loki: Tony said he'd block my access to his library. *clenches his teeth* That old rusty metalhead.

"Fine if you don't wanna tell me. I'm just glad you came," you pointed, patting him on his chest, completely missing the knife flying towards you being blocked by his reflexes- nothing having been displaced but for his arm.

"Wow," you gasped, letting your hand touch his chest again, "what do you have under there? Rocks? How the heck is your chest so hard?"

"I'm a frost giant darling," he asserted, twirling the knife in his hand before throwing it forward without looking, landing right on Leather Jacket's hand about to pull the trigger and shoot Wanda.

"And I'm a human. What's your point? Why are your boobies so hard and mine so squishy? Look!"

You took his hand to make him feel your chest. "Okay," he cut you short before you could forcibly make him grope you.

"You are clearly running on alcohol right now."

You snorted. "No, dummy. I'm standing. Are you sure you're not the drunk one?"

Loki looked at the camera.

.

"I'm sorry," you whined.

The camera caught your figure partially as you hid behind Loki in the compound elevator while Wanda and Natasha stood on either side.

"Don't worry," Natasha reiterated, "we'll take care of it. Just don't tell Tony about the..." she waved her hand in the air like it meant something to you.

The ding announced your arrival to the lounge. Elevator doors opened to see Tony standing at the entrance with crossed arms, his eyes boring straight into everyone in front of him, not even bothering to blink.

Behind him Scott and Bucky sat on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn and Home Alone on the big screen, their eyes and ears focused on all of you rather than the movie.

An everlasting moment of silence passed and you managed to get a look of those eyes of judgement over Loki's shoulder before quickly curling back into your hiding spot.

"Where were you?"

The room didn't even have time to register the chill when you heard Natasha speaking. "Wanda and I were out shopping. I don't know about these two," she announced with her hands raised, walking out while mouthing 'sorry' at your face that had just experienced third-tier betrayal.

"I suggest you come out from behind Aro here," Tony digressed, "he's not gonna hide you for the rest of your life."

Loki took a step out of the elevator, getting a little closer to Stark, towering him just a little, his hands resting in his pockets. Stark was visibly hating the suave play from the God.

You were stuck there for a few more seconds before stepping beside Loki, letting the camera capture the wide eyes, a gasp of shattering shock and the fumes dissipating to give place to something new.

Panning in on you, the camera caught the bruise growing on your cheek, the size of a pear.

"Y/N-" Stark had barely begun to address his horror when Loki cut him short.

"She’s fine, Stark. Just a little-"

"Who did this?!"

That erupting gaze was meant for you to answer the question and so the entire surrounding went silent for you to answer him. Even Home Alone was muted to hear what you had to say for this bruise.

"Mr Stark, I can explain." Your voice was a quarter of what it was half an hour ago, barely coming out in front of your father. "Please don't be mad. And please keep an open mind about it."

None of you could gather what rushed into Tony's mind because the next thing you knew, he felt himself shift back a little. Curse words flew under his breath as his hands tried to run over the tensed muscles in his face.

"Oh, my G-is this some sort of new...new thing you kids are into?"

Now it was your turn to be confused. "What?"

You: *cringe* Ew! Ew! Ew! Ew! Ew! Ew! Get it out of my head! Ew!!

"N-No! I-what?! Nooooooo!" you stressed at the word as much as possible. The God stood there seemingly trying to make sense of this conversation.

"Loki and I were out on a date. We were karaoke-ing and I was dancing on the bar counter when I slipped and hit myself."

Loki did not miss even a second to look at the camera with pursed lips.

Loki: That's not what happened.

 Flashback to the club

You forced Loki on the dancefloor while Natasha took care of the goons.

"Come on, show me your mooooves, Loki," you shouted over the music before giddily jumping and taking a step back, colliding with a guy.

"Oh, I'm so-"

"What the f***!" The pasty blond guy cursed at you before looking at Loki. "Take care of your bitch, asshole."

Before Loki could take a stance between the two of you, he felt your hand block him, your eyes glowing at that rude stranger.

"Who the f*** are you calling, asshole, you dried pulp-less raisin!"

The guy twisted his jaw before stepping very close to you.

Loki- clearly uncomfortable by the distance- tried to pull you towards him and away from that pathetic excuse of a human

"Alright," the God announced, "you better watch-"

The camera caught the full-blown emotion of offence on Loki's face as you swatted his hands away.

"I called. Your boyfriend. An asshole. You c***."

Loki blinked in a sense of amusement at the audacity of that man, the ripples of tensed muscles under his black t-shirt quite visible for the ones who watched.

"At least I can take a pounding unlike your ego, you smelly ballsack," you spat back. "Now walk away before I bring a mirror and show you what a real asshole looks like." The infant rage that Loki was carrying in his entire body suddenly screeched to a halt as he looked at the back of your head with shocked confusion. "What kind of insult was that?"

The pasty guy was fuming now. Your words clearly rubbing him the wrong way.

"Oh, what happened?" you sang in a sarcasm filled tone. "Did your boring comebacks turn flaccid? Just like your virgin d-"

He pushed you back. "Shut the fuck up before I make you shut up."

Loki body stood as a shield- only behind you- wanting to go ahead and do something to that guy but you were not giving him a chance to do so.

You gasped. "The audacity of this bitch!" And pushed him back. "What're gonna do, fight me?"

No one saw it coming. The punch landed on your face within seconds, pushing your back into Loki's chest, the latter having to grab you to stop you from falling.

"Okay, that's it," Loki pulled you up, his eyes on fire glaring right at the man with the intention to kill. And as his luck for the night would have it, you used him as a support to gather a bit potential, scream "Son of a-" while charging at the guy. By now the rest of the ladies on the dancefloor had witnessed enough to come to your aid and beat the living hell out of that man. Pure, chaotic energy spreading over the floor that reflected in the pleasant amusement in Loki's eyes.

"By the Norns," Loki whispered, looking at the scene unfolding in front of him before looking at the camera, "remind me never to get on Y/N's bad side."

The pasty guy screamed out of the frame, making Loki turn at him with a layer of disappointment.

"Oh, you asked for it," he shouted at the man screaming for help before being swallowed whole by the river of women.

 You: *sighs* Of course, I can't tell Mr Stark I got punched while defending your honour.

Loki: *giggle snorts*

You: *turns to look at him* what?

Loki: You're right. I can see him never believing that.

You: *nodding in agreement* right?

Loki: Because he would cut my head off the day he does. *stops smiling*

You: Aw! I won't let him, buddy.

Loki: Oh, I doubt it. He is still in shock about the whole 'date' thing.

The camera flips to the lounge showing Stark sitting in between Scott and Bucky, looking in the distance- still in shock- while those two munched on their popcorns from the popcorn bowl kept in Tony's lap.

"Nah." he finally says out of the blue, almost making Scott jump, "Y/N can't date Loki? I'm sure she's just pulling my leg for not letting her go on that stupid interrogation mission."

Scott and Bucky exchanged glances before nodding and patting him on the back, resuming their movie with a 'sure buddy'.

You: *sheepishly* Yeah, I think we broke him.

Loki: At least he's behaving like he's supposed to, unlike my brother in such situations.

You: Huh...*nods* *furrows brows* speaking of Thor...where is he?

Loki:

You:

 The Club-a-Dub-Dub

The camera captured a face covered by flickering neon pink shades looking down at a laptop in those big hands while glowing neon party necklaces adorned his neck.

"All right let's do this," Thor stated in all seriousness, using a pink tic-tac to pull his hair up above his ear. The camera zoomed out a little to show him looking at a laptop placed in front of him on a pedestal.

"We are gathered here for a task that is too important for this world to be left to another time. A task so huge that my heart feels both burdened and honoured to be able to put it to fruition. A task so pure in its being that anyone who stands up against it in this club shall face my wrath. But not before I try to make them change their mind with love. Rosa and Gina, I ask you to step forward and be the blessed lot of this sacred ceremony."

The slow panning out of the frame showed two beautiful women step forward and face each other with pure smiles.

"By the power vested in me by becomeaminister.com, I am honoured to announce you wife and wife. You may now kiss."

An uproar of elated excitement filled the club just as Thor finished; the brides kissing and their friends celebrating. Everyone toasted to the newlywed couple before someone shouted to do the cha-cha slide.

The next thing you know, Thor and the rest of the people in the house were sliding left and right.

"THIS IS SO MUCH FUN!!!!" Thor shouted with the jumps and twists, "I DON'T EVEN REMEMBER WHY I'D COME HERE!!"

[thepartyresponsible]

happy whumptober! here’s a short winterhawk fic about struggling to survive in the zombie apocalypse.

warnings for general misery and apocalypse perils. also for an shocking lack of actual zombies.

The canned food ran out two days ago. Ever since, they’ve been working through what Natasha calls the perpetual stew, an ever-simmering pot of whatever-the-hell. Mushrooms and rabbit, the carrots they weren’t supposed to pull up until spring.

The pot’s never meant to go empty. That’s what makes it perpetual. Natasha explained it in the fall, back when they were still pulling what felt like an endless array of vegetables out of the dirt. But she took the pot off the fire last night, made the kids wait until it was cool before she let them run their fingers over the metal, scrape out the very last of whatever food they could find.

The canned food is gone. The old stuff from before the world ended, and the new stuff they made themselves. The stew pot’s empty.

It’s midwinter, so everything smart is hibernating or hidden. Clint goes out every morning, but the most he’s come back with is a couple of winter-weight rabbits. It’s not enough.

Thor and Sam left a week ago, headed for the skeletal, picked-over remains of any town they could find. Clint doesn’t expect they’ll be back. And if they make it back, he doesn’t have much hope of them bringing anything with them.

He dreams about grocery stores. Deli counters and free samples and endless aisles of potato chips and Oreo’s. All kinds of things he’ll never have again.

He wakes up later and later. When you can’t eat, you sleep. The body only runs on credit for so long.

The morning after the stew runs out, he digs the tiny bag of instant coffee out of the back of his backpack. He was saving it for spring. He doesn’t see much reason to save anything now.

Natasha catches him at it, drinking hot coffee in the weak daylight, face lifted toward the sun, eyes closed. She’s always known him better than he ever knew himself. She leans into him, shoulder-to-shoulder, and she doesn’t ask, but he shares the coffee with her anyway.

“You should stay,” she tells him. Her cheekbones are sharp like they used to be, back when she was barely nineteen and it seemed like the whole world was taking turns taking bites out of her. She softened over the years, but she’s re-honed now. She picked up her old edges like any high quality blade will, when needed.

She’s the one who insisted on rations. She’s the only one who knew this was coming, could see this even back in September, when it seemed like they’d have food forever. It wasn’t enough. She let them take too much, and now there’s nothing.

He doesn’t blame her for that. He hopes she doesn’t blame herself.

“Saw some tracks yesterday,” he tells her. “Elk, I think.”

And God knows what the hell he’d do with an elk if he got one. He couldn’t lift a Golden Retriever right now. Hell, a Corgi might be a struggle. He hasn’t been this skinny since the circus. He hasn’t been this hungry since he lived with his parents. And maybe not even then.

Maybe this, right here, is the worst he’s ever felt.

But Natasha tips her head against his shoulder, presses the coffee back into his hands. He breathes in. It sounds stupid, but he missed the smell. A whole world to miss, the whole Goddamn functioning society they lost when the dead started eating the living, and he misses coffee.

Well, he misses central heating, too. And pizza. He misses indoor plumbing and late night TV and firefighters and cops and paramedics. He misses having someone, anyone, to call for help. He misses cities and streetlights and a guaranteed future.

He takes another long sip of coffee. He breathes in the smell. It’s not so bad, really. Could be worse. He has Natasha, and Tony, and Pepper, and Morgan, and Harley, and Peter. And Sam and Thor, if they ever make it back. He has some kind of family. Took the whole world ending, but he found a family anyway.

He’s not going to lose them. And if he does, it won’t be his fault.

He hands the coffee back to Natasha. There’s a sip and a half left. He wants her to have it. He’d give her any wonderful thing he had. He’d give all of them anything he had.

“I’ll be back,” he tells her. “With dinner.”

He doesn’t believe it, but he says it anyway.

Natasha curls her hands around the coffee mug. Her eyes aren’t sad when they look at him, but he can’t really describe what he sees in them. The smile she gives him could break his heart, but the whole inside of him is frozen up. There’s nothing beating warm enough to break.

“Just come back,” she says.

He nods. He doesn’t say anything. When he leaves, he allows himself the small mercy of not looking back.

  There aren’t many people left. Clint wouldn’t hazard a guess as to how many survived. The sickness was viciously viral, airborne and mean. The walking dead got all the fanfare, but the pandemic itself killed something like a third of the people it infected, and only about a quarter of those reanimated later. If you lived through the sickness, you couldn’t get it again. Even a bite wouldn’t kill you.

But if you got bit first, you always died. And you always came back.

The last Clint heard, the worldwide death toll was estimated at something like 500 million. He can’t even hold that number in his head. And that was before the news stopped, before the governments fell, before the cities turned to slaughterhouses.

He has no idea what the final death toll was. Mostly, he’s been trying not to add to it.

That first year, everything was a mess. Everyone who lived was desperate. The winter killed a lot of them, and those that survived learned to be wary of strangers. Clint hasn’t seen anyone outside of his small adopted family for something like six months.  

They haven’t seen any zombies in that time frame either. Bodies decay. There’s probably a few left in more temperate climes, but, up in the mountains, they’ve been safe enough.

Clint’s not even looking for people. That’s his mistake.

He’s tracking elk, dragging himself toward the north slope, hoping to find them bedded down against the chill. It’s a sunless day, overcast and cold. They have more sense than he does. Well, they’re a lot less desperate, too.

It takes him hours to find them. And when he does, he has to sneak up close. They’re smart, and they’re fast, and he only has one chance.

He doesn’t think about it. About what the hell he’s going to do if he manages it. About how he barely dragged himself here. About how he doesn’t have a chance in hell of getting this meat back to the others.

He presses on anyway. There’s no other option. It doesn’t matter that he can’t. He has to.

But when he goes to take the shot, his hands are shaking. He’s cold, and he’s weak, and he can’t shoot his fucking bow.

He closes his eyes. He takes a breath. He thinks, as hard as he can, about how small Morgan is, about how she cried last night because she was hungry. He thinks about Nat, so skinny he can count the individual vertebrae of her spine through her shirt. He thinks about Tony, who stopped eating days ago, keeps sneaking his food to Harley and Morgan and Peter.

He can’t, but he has to. He got all the way here.

His hands are shaking. His fingertips are numb. He should’ve worn more layers; he should’ve brought better gloves. But he wasn’t sure he was going to make it back, and he didn’t want to take too much when he didn’t know if he’d be able to return it.

He’s too cold, and he’s too hungry. He kept skipping meals to keep them all fed, and now he can’t feed them at all.

They need him. He has to.

He breathes out. He clenches his jaw so tight his teeth creak. He thinks of summer days and beaches and bonfires. He pulls the string back, and his fingers fumble, too numb to grip. The bow string twaps loud and empty against nothing, and the elk snort, leaping to their feet.

No, he thinks. Frantic, and panicked. He scrambles for the arrow, lurches to his feet. The elk are faster. Warmer, and better fed. He tries to pull the arrow back, but the shaking has spread to his arms now. He can’t do a Goddamn thing.

There’s the echoing crack of a gunshot, and one of the elk groans, low and pained, and tips over into the snow, legs kicking. The rest of the herd bolt down the slope.

Clint stares at the dying elk and can’t even comprehend what’s happening until a man emerges from the trees. The elk’s barely moving, too close to death to fight, and the man cuts its throat while Clint watches.

The stranger moves with an easy efficiency, kneeling in the snow while he pulls tools out of his bag. He’s dark-haired and scruffy, looks feral in a way that Clint can’t quite articulate. He doesn’t know why it makes him so nervous. Nobody looks particularly civilized these days.

Maybe it’s just that he hasn’t seen a strange face in so long.

It’s too bad, really, that the first stranger he meets is stealing a kill Clint couldn’t take himself but also can’t afford to lose. He puts his bow away and draws his knife. He’ll have to get close to use it, but it feels steadier in his hands than the bow.

By the time he leaves cover, the man’s already staking out the elk, tying its legs to tent spikes he jams into the frozen ground. If Clint waits long enough, maybe he’ll field dress the whole damn thing.

“You gonna help?” the man asks, when Clint gets maybe fifteen yards away. He looks up suddenly, looks right at him. His eyes fall on the knife, but he doesn’t look concerned so much as he looks irritated. “You gonna help?” he asks, again. “Or are you gonna cause problems?”

Clint hesitates. His hands are still shaking. It feels like every part of him is trembling. He had the coffee this morning and a quarter of a can of peaches two days back, and that’s been it. He hasn’t been full since Christmas.

When the man stands up, he’s too Goddamn big for the end of the world. He’s muscular like Thor was muscular back in the fall, when they had the food to feed all that bulk. But the look in his eyes is meaner than Thor, who’s always been so sweet-natured and friendly. The look in his eyes is cold and assessing, not friendly at all.

“I need that,” Clint says. He points at the elk. “I’ve got people to feed.”

The man’s eyebrows pull together. It’s a weird thing to notice, but it catches Clint’s attention. Under the sweep of all that dark hair, under the threat of that scowl, he has beautiful eyes. Bright and sky-blue. Intelligent.

There’s a weird moment, stretching out between them. The man shifts his weight. He runs his tongue over his teeth. It’s an anxious tell, more uncertain than angry.

“I know you need it,” the man says, finally. “Followed you for two miles. Figured there’s no way in hell you’d be out here if you didn’t have to be.”

Clint’s five miles out from their small grouping of cabins, but two miles is still too Goddamn close to the others. He’s lost the knack for hiding. There hasn’t been anything to hide from. He’s sure he left tracks leading straight home.

He’s tired. He’s so damn tired. It’s overwhelming, suddenly. He wants to lay down and sleep until none of this is his problem anymore. Until he doesn’t have problems anymore.

But last night, Morgan cried. She’s just a kid. She deserves better.

“There’s kids,” Clint says. He doesn’t know that it’ll do any good. Sometimes you have to bank on mercy. Anyway, if this guy wants to hurt them, he’ll have to get past Natasha. And Natasha, even at bantamweight, is a wolverine in human skin. “There’s kids, and they’re hungry. I have to get this back to them.”

The man just stares at him. He has a knife in his hand, bloodied up from the elk, and a look on his face like he can’t figure out what the hell Clint is saying to him. Finally, he clears his throat.

“I’m trying to help you, asshole,” he says.

Oh, Clint thinks. It jars in his head so hard that all the other thoughts run right into the back of it, like a trainwreck in his mind. He doesn’t think anything for what has to be almost a full minute.

“Listen,” the man says. He reaches up, hooks his long hair back out of his face. It leaves a streak of red across the pale skin of his cheek. He shrugs his backpack off, tosses it so it lands halfway between them. “You look really shaky. Maybe you should eat something.”

Clint stares at him, waiting for the trap. But the man just shrugs, seems to grow uncomfortable under the scrutiny. He turns his back on Clint and goes back to the elk.

There’s blood on the snow. Clint can smell it from here. Some ancient part of him, something brainstem-level and bent on survival, kicks awake at that smell, and his stomach twists up, so fierce and insistent that it aches like it’s going to leave bruises on his heart.

He crouches down, keeps the knife in one hand, and carefully opens the backpack.

There’s a treasure trove in there. Packaged food from pre-collapse, and plastic bags of what looks like jerky. Bottles of what’s probably water. Campbell’s chicken soup in a pull-top can.

Clint thinks, ludicrously, that he’s going to cry.

He takes the soup, instead. Drops the knife in the snow. He rips off the top and drinks it, knocking back the broth. The salt makes his brain hum, lights up all the taste buds on his tongue. He slumps, eyes closed.

“Jesus,” the man says.

When Clint opens his eyes, those blue eyes are narrowed. His frown is serious, and troubled. Disgusted, maybe.

Clint had honestly forgotten what embarrassment feels like. He wants to rub at his mouth, but he licks the soup off his lips and chin instead. In that moment, there isn’t enough shame in the world to make him waste good broth on manners.

“Maybe slow down,” the man advises.

“Sorry,” Clint says. He isn’t. He isn’t anything except relieved. He feels like he’s floating, like his toes and feet are miles away from his head.

His hands are still shaking, but the tremors feel less pressing now.

“Hey,” the man says. He kneels up in the snow. The concern on his face soften his features. He’s beautiful, Clint thinks, although the more reasonable part of him knows he’d fall in love with anybody who fed him right now. “You said there’s more of you? Kids?”

Cint nods. He should be careful. He shouldn’t give up any more information. But there’s a half-empty can of soup in his hands, and he can’t for the life of him doubt the intentions of anyone saintly enough to share food in the winter after the end of the world.

“Yeah,” he says. “Ran out of food yesterday. We’re all—there’s nothing left.”

The man looks like something out of the wild, like he was born and plans to die in the mountains, alone and unbothered by other people. But there’s worry on his face, in the intensity of his stare and the gentle downturn of his mouth. Clint shouldn’t trust him. Doesn’t trust him, maybe. But.

There’s a can of soup in Clint’s hands, and a rifle across this man’s back. If he planned to killed Clint, he could’ve done it already, before wasting supplies on a dead man walking. And if he plans to follow Clint back and hurt the people at home, he’s going to find out that feeding Clint first was a hell of a mistake.

“Okay,” the man says. “Look. My friend and I, we can help you. With the meat, I mean. Getting it back. You don’t have to—if you want, we’ll just bring it halfway, and then you can go get the others.”

Clint tips the can back up against his mouth, chews through a mouthful of noodles. He forgot what chicken tasted like. He forgot about all of it.

“Your friend,” he repeats, tracking the threat, focusing on the idea of there being more people like him. Well-fed and well-muscled. Armed.

“Yeah,” the man says. “Steve. And I’m Bucky.”

“Clint,” he says, mumbling it through more food. The bag’s still open at his side, and Bucky hasn’t said a damn thing about it, so Clint carefully swipes a bit of jerky, just to see what happens.

“Okay,” Bucky says. His eyes drop to the jerky in Clint’s hand, but he doesn’t say anything. He just nods, like it’s fine. Like sharing doesn’t cost him anything. Like he wants Clint to have it. “Nice to meet you,” he says.

Clint laughs. He couldn’t say why, really. The giddiness of relief, probably. The unsteadiness of a brain flooded with dopamine after weeks of worry and hunger and weakness.

“Nice to meet you, too,” he says. There’s salt on his tongue, and food in his hands, and a weight slowly lifting off his shoulders. When he looks down, the can holds steady. His hands aren’t shaking anymore.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Starcrossed Losers XVI (Josh Wheeler xReader)

A/N: This is when I tell you to be ready to get a tad sad.

Words: 5,605

Warnings: None!

Previous chapter // Next chapter

KJ is a fucking genius. 

She knows things I didn’t even know were a thing, the info currency? Why would someone need those?

Then I thought about our situation and I went ‘Oh, that’s why’.

We have to cross half of the town to get to where we could find someone who could talk to a member of Turbo’s tribe. You better be sure I brought my skates and Katie with me (I named my hammer after my sister, you know, it helps me cope... sort of). 

That also means we have to cross different tribe’s territories. The shortest road is through the uh, cowboys tribe thing... 4-H? I just realized how I said I know every inch of the city, I do, but the people in it? Not so much.

Tribes have expanded, I know the basic ones: Cheeramazons, Jocks, and the derivatives of the jocks. I know somewhere there are gamers, the cowboys and Kardashian... I know I’m missing lots and lots but is not really a big deal, I’m just a girl, I don’t have to know everything.

Anyway, 4-H accepts the food and allow us to go through their territory, fifteen minutes later we found ourselves on a narrow alley, in front of us there’s a big trailer box with videogames characters drawn all over it.

KJ knocks on it with a rock and a small compartment opens, a crossbow points directly to KJ’s head and we jump back. 

The person inside speaks but I don’t understand what they say, KJ answers back and after a few, scary seconds, the crossbow disappears.

“That wasn’t Chinese,” says Josh.

“It’s Dothraki,” She answers simply, “I also know Na’vi, Elvish and a little Hebrew.”

She looks over her shoulder and shrugs.

“The JCC had a good preschool.”

Josh grins, clearly impressed by the girl’s abilities. I'm... astonished, to say the least. This girl is a box of surprises all around.

So the gate opens and KJ is the first one to enter, then me, then Josh. The room is dark and we can only see the helmet of the person in front of us. They slap KJ across the face and I gasp.

“You’ve got some nerve KJ, after the shit you pulled in Frogtown,” Says the person in a somehow robotic voice.

When they take off the helmet, I recognize the girl.

There’s a silence before KJ and her laugh, high fiving each other.

“Meet Aria Killigan and her elite strikeforce, The Game Overs.”

“I know who she is,” I tilt my head, smirking, “this is what you ended up doing after leaving?”

“Y/N?” Aria gives me a half-smile, “What are you doing with KJ?”

Aria and I weren’t the closest friends, but she used to sit with us during lunch and she’d spend the whole time fighting with Alex about crazy Star Wars theories. She was the one who introduced Stuart to us. 

I remember her as a sharp, fun person. When the apocalypse happened she stayed with us a few days and one morning she was gone without explanation, I never heard from her again. 

Until now, of course.

Inside there are three kids that were usually with her during free hours, playing on their phones. Unfortunately, I never learned any of their names, I don’t think they care, though. They didn’t even turn to look at us as we got in.

“These are assassins?” I hear Josh behind me, asking in what it sounds a skeptical tone, “You play videogames”

“We’re combat-ready unit. Check out our Ghoulie kill-count,” She points to a bunch of pictures of celebrities.

“Jonah Hill’s kind of an easy target,” Josh says.

“Fat Jonah Hill sure, but skinny Jonah Hill is agile AF”

“What were his last words?” Asks KJ.

“I’m friends with Brad Pitt,” Answers Aria.

“Of course,” KJ nods along.

“Can we focus on the plan for a moment?” I ask.

“You can’t be for real,” My friend scoffs, “this is like a ten-year-old’s birthday party playing games on Nerf mode.” 

“We’re online in elite arenas,” Replies Aria, “the bombs didn’t knock out satellites. We’re playing across the globe: Korea, Norway, Brazil...”

“We’re not the only ones left,” KJ adds, “there’s a whole wide world”

“Is it... Is it the same everywhere?” Josh asks, “Like, just kids no adults or do they have adults like Baron Triumph and the Witch? Are there animals mutating? Do they know why this happened? Why the bombs went off of why we survived?”

I was expecting this to be everywhere, not gonna lie. Adults wouldn’t just give up California so easily to kids if that wasn’t the case.

Still, it breaks my heart. I feel like they’ve taken away all the possibilities I had to build my own life how I wanted, now the only thing I can aspire to have is enough food for the month and don’t get my scalp burnt with acid rain. Oh yeah, we have those now more than ever.

Aria rolls her eyes and looks at KJ and me.

“What’s the mission?”

“Liquidate Turbo Bro-Jock,” says KJ.

“Fuck off,” scoffs Aria, going back to her chair.

“Don’t get shook!” KJ exclaims.

“No,” She replies, “Highschool taught us one thing: there are winners and there are losers. The best way to live: don’t pick sides. That’s why gamers are anonymous.”

I used to agree with that philosophy. I was a loner with no strings attached that would stop me from survival. The thing is that I can’t stay away from the problem when the problem is after my head, specifically. 

I can’t afford to step back and hope for forgiveness. I have to act.

“Don’t forget who pulled you out of the shit in Encino,” Huffs KJ, “you owe me. If you do this, you’re off my books”

“Listen, Aria, I know it sounds crazy but you wouldn’t be doing this on your own. I spent time with the jocks, I was their cleaning lady before Owen appeared and I know everything about the traps and secrets entrances but I can’t do it without someone helping us from inside. You think you can find one?”

Aria takes a moment to think, then sighs.

“Fine. We’ll help you,” She scoffs, Aria turns on her screen and we step closer, “we’ve been playing Overwatch with a Jock. His username is 5318008. This dude wants to kill Turbo for real.”

“He’s the one that’s gonna help us?” Asks Josh, looking at the screen.

“That’s the plan,” Aria shrugs, “our inside man should be online soon.”

“Okay,” I nod, “tell him that I’ll help. I mean, don’t tell him my name cause they surely won’t remember me but do tell him that there’s someone who knows their way in and only needs someone to make sure the hall will be empty when we get in”

“Sure,” Aria looks at me for a second, “I’m glad you’re alive, Y/N. Is Alex still with you?”

“He came back like a week ago, he’s fine,” I smile, “as annoying as ever... you know anything about Stuart?”

“I don’t know where he is,” She shrugs, “sorry I bailed on you, I simply didn’t feel like that was my place.”

“I understand, we weren’t perfect,” I sigh.

She leans her back against the seat and turns aggressively towards Josh.

“Hey, quit fogging up my screen, mouth breather!”

“Come,” Grumbles KJ, standing up and pulling Josh with her.

“I’ll leave you to it,” I tell her, “thank you, seriously.”

Aria has her eyes fixed on the screen. 

When I get to where Josh and KJ are, I hear them arguing in hurried whispers.

“I had no idea any of this was here”

“Because you’re an epic noob.”

“I do fine, thank you,” Josh frowns.

“Doing fine is why you’re a noob,” She replies, “that goes for the both of you”

“Not fair,” I reply in a grumble, “I know how to defend myself”

“By hiding inside trash containers?”

“Better to be a liar, like you?” Josh is quick to ask.

“Don’t you get it?” She scoffs, “Moral codes are worth less than stale Cheetos.”

That I don’t agree. We don’t have any rules but it doesn’t mean I’ll be going full savage on people. I’m a good person! Adults fucked up the world because they were too busy ‘trying to survive’ on their cruel society by cheating and stepping on others, can’t they see how this is exactly the same shit?

“If you’re such a ninja then how come you were caught by Triumph?”

“First, that’s racist. And second, you were caught too.”

“It wasn’t our fault! The jocks had cornered us into an alley.”

“And I got us free,” Adds Josh.

“Because of me,” KJ scoffs.

“Why are you even helping us?” He frowns, “You don’t seem like the type who’d do something for nothing”

“I don’t,” She responds coldly.

That sends a shiver up my spine and causes me to stop their arguing.

“I get that you’ve been surviving on some kind of trading favors and collecting debts but can’t you see that’s the kind of issue that ended the world in the first place? I’m not saying we should form a circle and tell our biggest insecurities but maybe cut us some fucking slack, it’s us the ones that have been getting death threats”

“Turbo throws death threats to everyone. If you can’t handle it, maybe you shouldn’t be the leaders”

“You shouldn’t be threatening us with that,” I reply, now upset, “I don’t look like the killing type, but I assure you, I can get rid of nuisances. I have.”

KJ glares at me, for a second I think she’s gonna kick us out, tell us that she’s changed her mind and she’ll tell Aria to stop her search. Luckily for me, Aria speaks up.

“Yes!” She exclaims, “All right. 5318008 is on board. He’ll help us get inside the school. We move at 1700, full battle rattle. Tonight, we squelch Turbo Pokaski.”

“Cool,” I feel my hands getting colder, “nice! I need a moment.”

I get out, the skates don’t make it easier, so I step on a few feet by accident. I manage to leave the room and walk out to the narrow alley. I sit on an old tire and lean my face against my good hand.

Going back to school wasn’t on my plans for the summer, let alone killing Turbo. I know I kinda threatened KJ with killing her is she tries to kick us out of the mall but that was me trying to sound scary. I don’t kill people! I swore off killing after smashing my sister’s head, which sounds horrid enough.

Ghoulies don’t count, they don’t really feel and they’re no longer people. Turbo? That’s a whole different thing.

I need to calm myself down cause either if I want it or not it’s gonna happen, so my mind needs to be clear when the time comes. 

Songs always calm me down. I try to think of one and my brain runs hurriedly through the folders and folders of songs I’ve learned through the years. 

I’m a good person, so I’ll share the song with you.

“I wanna be a great one I wanna make a million dollars Making all my days count Clowning with my day ones...”

I slowly start to sing under my breath, my eyes tightly closed and my hands still cold as ice. 

I don’t want to do this. This is all the adults’ fault. If it wasn’t because of their stupid nuclear war and their thirst for power I would still be going to school, normal as ever, spending time with my friends and planning my future.

I had a plan, you know? I was going to study to become an artist. I wanted to be rich and live in a small house in Europe where everyday the mornings would be soft and the nights cold but cozy. I was going to be the best of... of whatever I was supposed to be. Now I don’t have a plan. 

Well, I do. 

I’m about to kill a kid.

“You have a nice voice”

I jump and cut my singing instantly, looking over my shoulder with wide eyes.

“Josh, could you not do that when I’m on the verge of a breakdown?”

“A breakdown?” He raises a brow, “You know, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to”

“I have to,” I shake my head, “I’m the only one who knows the way in, I can’t let them down. Aria agreed to this only cause I’m taking the risk too.”

“I’m sure she’ll understand”

“They’ll understand shit,” I frown, “didn’t you hear KJ? As soon as we show weakness they’ll eat us. I can’t have that after all I’ve been through.”

“KJ was just bluffing, I’m sure she doesn’t have what it takes to lead the kids”

“And we do?” I huff, “Josh look at us, we’re unknown children. The only reason they respect and ‘trust us’ is because they think that what you did back with Triumph is what we do on the daily”

“You think they’ll turn on us?”

“If what KJ said is true and they have no morals, yes.”

Josh sits beside me, now he looks as affected as me.

“That’s why I have to go,” I continue, “if I take direct part on Turbo’s death, you and I will seem bulletproof. The guy that beat Triumph and the girl that killed Turbo? We’ll be safe for the rest of our lives... that’s something, considering I’ll have to stay here for the rest of my fucking existence.”

I see how he turns to look at me by the corner of my eye.

“I think that going over to kill Turbo is not the real reason why you’re upset.”

“This is not how I was planning to spend my teenage years,” I reply, “I feel like I’m the only person alive with common sense on the area and that means I’ll have to spend the rest of my life hiding from people if I don’t want to get killed for something as stupid as fake power.”

“That’s a bit unfair on the rest of us,” Josh scoffs, “what about Angelica and Alex? They’re good people. Alex came back because he cares about you and Angelica adores you and would do anything for you, even if she’s too stubborn to admit it. That’s the reason why she didn’t light Maya on fire, she has a flexible moral, but she’s loyal. Don’t listen to KJ. You’re not alone.”

“Can’t you see that’s exactly the problem?” I ask in exasperation, “If I were alone I could just disappear and try in a different city, I could move away”

“So you’re saying we’re stopping you from being happy?”

“I’m saying that I would give zero shits to loyalty and morals if I hadn’t met you in the first place. You ruined everything.”

This is the reason why I keep my mouth shut when I’m angry.

Josh looks at me in stunned silence, his face is one of innocent surprise at first, then he looks pissed.

“Let me make things easier for you,” He stands up and leaves.

No song can fix this now.

I stand up again, easing my breathing and checking my phone. It’s a quarter ‘til five, time to leave.

The Game Overs get out of their cave and Aria gives me a small mike.

“What’s this?”

“We have to be connected while we walk around the school looking for Turbo.”

“We’re gonna break the group?”

“We cover more areas like that”

“We’ll die faster like that”

“Just do as she says,” KJ interrupts me, “Aria knows what she’s doing.”

I look at Josh, searching for a sign that he supports me. He ignores me, arms crossed and avoiding my eyes.

I don’t have time for boy’s tantrums. What I said was wrong and it hurt him and I will apologize, but right now I just don’t have the time.

“Alright,” I say, putting the microphone on, “let’s go.”

“Good luck,” Says KJ.

It takes us exactly half an hour to arrive at the limits of the school. Aria stands next to me.

“Very well, Vinchi,” Aria tells me, “lead the way.” 

“Please, don’t call me Vinchi,” I say, “what did the jock tell you?”

“He’s waiting for the lights to drop,” She says, “so you better tell us how to do that”

“Here,” I walk over to where the parking lot is, we have to move quietly, my skates are certainly loud but it looks like they’re on lockdown and no one’s outside.

It takes us a few minutes, but I manage to find the main power source and they’re quick to cut it. We walk over to the cafeteria’s back entrance and we enter quietly through the kitchen. I hear Aria talking through her microphone.

“Power is cut, username 5318008 said that we could find Turbo in Mrs. Fitz old class”

I stop moving.

“That’s not where he is”

“Everyone move into kill positions,” Aria ignores me.

They scatter around me.

“Aria!” I whisper-yell, “Aria, listen to me! Turbo’s room is the principal’s office, not Mrs. Fitz classroom! I cleaned it a thousand times-”

“Y/N, stop talking or they’ll find us!” Aria tells me through the mike, “Move!”

I have a bad feeling about this, but I can’t leave them alone.

“Shit,” I whisper once I’m out of the cafeteria, “Where are you?”

They’re really good, fast. I can’t see where they went.

Everyone tells me their positions, then Styx gets deadly quiet.

“Styx is fragged,” I hear Josh say.

“I knew it!” I respond, “Aria, this was a fucking trap.”

“Everyone hold their position,” She insists, “Y/N, don’t you dare try something outside the plan”

“Sorry, Aria,” I reply.

Of course, the next thing I do is quit the plan.

“Bronyboy is offline,” KJ says.

Okay, what the fuck do I do now? It looks like my fate is to fail forever in every plan I’ve ever made. So new plan: Improvise.

I hated when characters used to do that in movies or tv shows, like ‘Oh sure I’ll improvise and then everything will miraculously turn out better than expected’ cause you know that’s not true. You know as soon as you try to improvise, shit blows up and you end up losing. We are not good at improvising. That’s a recipe for disaster.

So I might as well try it, am I right? My life is a fucking mess already and Josh hates me, let’s go and die.

As I move through the halls my brain is almost melting, desperately trying to find a sort of plan B that could get us out. 

“Something is wrong here, something is really fucking wrong.”

“I told you five minutes ago, this was a trap,” I growl, “User five-six-whatever lied to us. Now we have to get our asses outside!”

“You’re the last ones standing, guys,” Says Josh, referring to me and Killigan.

“Fuck! Turbo isn’t in Mrs. Fitz class, there’s just some scared kids in here...”

I hear hurried steps on my right and I move as fast as I can to the closest door... a janitor’s closet. I open it silently, closing the door behind me.

“Y/N, where are you?” Asks KJ.

Her voice comes out too loud and I rip the microphone away from my face, turning it off. This will surely make them think that I got caught, it doesn’t matter. It’s safer.

I hear Turbo’s grunts and hurried footsteps going to Mrs. Fitz classroom. I wait until I hear total silence again and get out of my hiding spot. I have my hammer with me, but I can’t take Turbo on my own. 

I skate fast through the halls, I run into the room where they keep the unused weapons and an idea pops into my brain. If they don’t have spare weapons, they can’t fight as long.

When I enter everything is dark, but it’s empty. I knew it would be empty, I lived here you know, and they don’t really watch over unused things.

There’s a big bag where they put all the balls when they’re not playing. I empty it by throwing the balls away as fast as I can and I grab every crossbow, machete, and bats that crosses my way. When I feel like I have enough (and that is not too heavy for me to flee the scene) I turn around to leave.

I'm met with the point of a dart gun.

“Stay where you are,” The boy holding it warns me.

Apparently, today is the day I get to reunite with old acquaintances.

I recognize the voice immediately.

“Nathan?”

“Y/N?” He lowers the gun, “Holy shit, I thought you were dead!”

“I’m about to die,” I try to look as innocent as possible, “but if you so kindly let me get out...”

Nathan and I know each other since freshman year. We had a nice relationship while it lasted. He was the first guy to quit our group after the nuke, never actually joined our group. The first loner I met.

Nathan frowns, pointing the gun at me again.

“You know I can’t do that. If Turbo or Mona find out-”

“They don’t have to,” I say calmly, “you got here recently, didn’t you? I never saw you while I was here...”

“Uh, yeah that’s-that’s a fun story-”

“You’ll have to save it for later,” I cut him off, “let me go.”

“Y/N...”

“I can’t explain it right now, but I’m one of the mall kids and I need to put a stop to this stupid fight,” I say, now a bit more stressed, “please Nathan, if you ever actually liked me as a person you will let me go.”

I see him struggle with his own thoughts and for a moment I think, ‘There, that’s a guy that’s loyal to his tribe�� but it also makes me feel terrible cause if that’s true that means I’m dead.

Then he says:

“Follow me. Don’t make any sudden moves or noises, they’re about to turn on the power again so we have to get you out before that”

There, that’s a guy with good morals.

“You’re the best,” I sigh.

Now, I don’t have any reason to trust him, besides the fact that we used to be friends. According to KJ that’s all baby food now, if he’s bad he’ll give me away.

But he doesn’t. Nathan guides me to a back entrance, close to the basketball court and helps me carry the bag so we can move faster.

“If you’re trying to avoid a fight why are you stealing weapons?” He asks me.

“If he doesn’t have enough weapons he can’t send his tribe to war.”

“Yeah but... well, what are you gonna do with them?”

“We don’t have weapons back at the mall, we need to be prepared, to be fair your tribe attacked us first.”

“I wasn’t there during the fight. I stayed to look over the school”

“Well, you avoided an obvious defeat”

“You’re avoiding one now”

“No, I’m about to go back with a half-win. Turbo won’t even know who took the stuff.”

We stop close to the limits of the parking lot, here I can move on my own, it will take me a while since I’m only one tiny person carrying a huge bag with weapons but I’m outside. I made it out and I feel extremely guilty cause I left Aria behind.

“Nathan... Aria was part of the group that came with me, would you..? Could you make sure they don’t hurt her?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Nathan frowns, “don’t think I’ll make it, though. I’m just a nobody and it will look suspicious if I insist.”

“I understand. Thank you anyway,” I give him a quick hug before turning away.

“Y/N?” He asks once I’m halfway gone.

“Yes?” I look over my shoulder.

He gives me a small smile.

“It was nice seeing you again.”

Should I... no. We don’t need to go there tonight. Maybe one day, but not tonight.

“Yeah, I liked seeing you too,” I nod, turning back and skating away as fast as my legs allow.

Something feels different inside me. After being this close to dying cause I trusted in the words of a person I didn’t really know right away. Why did I trust them so easily? 

More importantly, how can’t I trust Josh after all he’s done and after all we’ve been through? He’s good. He has nothing but good intentions with me, or at least that’s what I think.

Somehow during my way back, I realize it’s not about trust, nor about how many lies has he said during his life. It’s about how much I want to help him and how much that upsets me.

The stupid loyalty.

“What is life? What is love? What are lies? What is trust? What is everything?”

But does it really matter? Is it really worth it to live without a care in the world if that means I can’t be with Josh? If it means I have to stay alone when all I want to do is to hold his stupid hand, then I don’t think I want to keep my morals intact.

“Everything is nothing without you”

I want to worry, I want to build a tribe that I can rely on. I want to feel alive again, almost as if I had a plan for the rest of my life.

I have a plan.

“Running, I'm running I'm running outta patience I wanna be a great one”

Everything I knew about the apocalypse and its rules was wrong.

Sacrifices must be made when facing the end of the world. 

But in my case, it’s not about abandoning relationships.

I have to let go of every fear I’ve ever had, I have to face them and say straight to their faces: I won’t indulge you anymore. 

I'll think about Katie and look up to the sky, screaming that I’m sorry and that there’s no one in this world that I love as much as I loved her. That I was there to save my sister and I saved her the best way I could. 

That everything I’ve done after the apocalypse would’ve made my parents proud because I never stopped being a good person, they raised me well. I’m the best healer in town. 

And I must sacrifice my rough attitude for a second, and find someone to listen to how my day went, I’d like to be the lady in distress, one can admit she’s done all she can. I want to be able to ask for help with the certainty that people won’t stab me in the back for doing so.

When I reach the narrow alley my breathing is uneven and the bag feels heavier than before. I can barely hold it on my shoulder, my wrist is surely not happy about it.

“Who is that?!” KJ’s little head appears on the roof of the trailer, I can barely see. The nights are darker now.

“It’s me,” I gasp, desperately trying to catch my breath, “I made it out!”

“Y/N?!” I hear a second voice. Josh’s voice.

His head appears also in the roof.

“What the fuck are you doing up there?”

“I thought you had been killed!” He exclaims, ignoring my question, “What happened?”

“I cut communication so Turbo wouldn’t find me. I also stole his spare weapons so now we have our own arsenal, I guess...”

I hear someone jumping from the roof. I see Josh standing in front of me, no longer upset he stands there, avoiding any sort of contact. Five feet apart.

“I wanna throw my hands up Ready to be saved, yeah”

“I’ve had a really long day, Josh.” 

“I know.”

“I’m ready to have a break,” I continue.

“You deserve it.”

I’ve never been good with this, I know words aren’t my best weapon, speeches aren’t my thing. Lately, though, actions have worked for me just fine (kicking out people, healing severed fingers, escaping from Highschools). I guess my best choice is to follow Josh’s advice and just... do it.

“What is life? What is love? (tell me, tell me, tell) What is time? What is choice? (I don't know) What is everything? Everything is nothing without you”

I move forward until I’m standing right in front of Josh, we stare at each other for a second and I don’t know what he’s thinking. Nonetheless, I have a plan.

I kiss him. 

And he kisses back.

Even if you’re terrified cause things might go wrong, it’s hard to worry when the person you’re crushing on has his hands on your waist and he’s kissing you.

“I hope I am enough (I hope I am enough, oh) What is everything? Everything is nothing without you”

It feels like ages when we break apart, I’m still tired from the walk but I think I can manage a little weariness if Josh keeps hugging me like that.

“You stole all his spare weapons?” KJ asks suddenly, she’s walked up to where I dropped the bag and is looking at it.

Oh my god, I forgot she was here too, fuck, she’s gonna tell everyone about this now.

“Not all of them, I’m only one person and the bag could carry only like, half of the things in that room. But trust me, after a while it feels like you are carrying the whole room,” I move away from Josh, flushed red and feeling my heart going at a thousand per hour.

“Still, that’s impressive,” KJ nods, “I’m sorry I thought you weren’t good enough, it’s clear that you know what you’re doing.”

“Only half of the time,” I smiled awkwardly, “someone from inside did help me escape... an old friend.”

“I’ll put these inside,” She says. I can’t tell if she’s uncomfortable after what just happened or is genuinely just trying to help, “we’ll have to sleep here and then go back to the mall in the morning”

“Sounds good to me.”

KJ goes into the cave (as I’m now calling the Game Over’s place) and doesn’t come back out.

Josh softly grabs my forearm and pulls me close to him again, a sly smile on his face.

“She’s right, stealing their spare weapons was a smart move.”

“I was just trying to feel like it wasn’t a complete waste of time... the gamers are in danger because of us-”

“I know,” Josh sighs, affected by the results of our quest, “after you disconnected your camera Turbo caught Killigan. He said I had lost”

“We lost,” I shake my head, “we can’t put more people in danger, Josh. What are we going to do?”

“For now, the weapons you brought from the school will be useful,” He assures me, “they won’t give us advantaged but it will give us a chance to defend our place”

“I like the sound of that,” I smile, “not the possibility of a war, but the idea of having a place...”

“I thought you didn’t like having strings attached,” Josh mentions, in the most ‘innocent’ way.

“I changed my mind,” I admit, “I’m sorry for the things I said earlier, I was scared and anxious-”

“I understand, don’t worry,” He puts a strand of hair behind my ear and hugs me, “you don’t have to worry about me judging you for the things you do”

My heart melts at his words, but I have to make sure he knows it wasn’t right.

“Still, it was wrong and I shouldn’t have poured out all my stress onto you. I also lied. I love the fact that you found me cause everything that has happened after it has been amazing.”

“Everything?” He asks with a knowing smile.

“All of it,” I nod, softly touching his cheek, “did I ever tell you that I liked you back?”

“You didn’t. Well, you did mention having a massive crush and that you tried to confess in a song but-”

“I like you,” I interrupt him, smiling like an idiot.

“No shit,” Josh replies, “I never would’ve guessed.”

“Shut up, I know it took me long enough”

“I was willing to wait,” He shrugs, smiling.

I lean in for another kiss (now that I’m allowed to, I should do it as often as I can), he holds my waist a bit more tightly and I put my arms around his neck.

Most people hate when you narrate about ‘tongues battling for dominance’ and hands going up and down. I’ll just say it was a good kiss, it lifted all worries from my shoulders.

Momentarily, though.

KJ runs out of the cave and we jump back.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Didn’t you say Sam Dean was dead?”

“Yeah?” 

“You should come in,” She replies.

Josh and I follow her back inside and I see Turbo’s face on the screen, but is only half of his face, the image it’s zoomed in so we can see the people behind him. I notice at the same time Josh does, and I bring my hands up to cover my mouth in silent horror. 

As the great, classic meme would say:

This is the moment I knew, we fucked up.

“Sam?”

Taglist.

@letsbloodmagic @slythermyg @loving-u-3000​

[spikeymarshmallows]

alright bitches, saddle up. it’s headcanon-ing time.

inspired by this post.

Specifically this section:

The standard urban fantasy female protagonist dating a werewolf who is not an alpha. Bonus points for it being a cute beta werewolfess who thinks her girlfriend’s perpetual posturing as the ‘baddest bitch on the block’™ is the most adorable thing ever. Extra bonus points for fuzzy baby werewolves and adopted babies. (Because actual wolf packs? Exist to raise children. They’re family units, focused around rearing cubs.)

#werewolves #queer wolves #werewolves as the foster parents of the supernatural world #if there’s a kid so much as sniffling in their general vicinity they’re going to get adopted #the fae discovered that they could straight-up hand off changlings to werewolf packs #no deception needed #magic using children of mundane parents who can’t handle it? #every pack has a dozen of them #fic ideas

okay this is one of the cutest reblogs I’ve gotten. imagine it werewolves just going YES FAMILY GOOD and adopting everyone and making sure they get attention and food and understand that it’s fine to be who you are and that you’re not alone, you’re pack now

Okay, I tried to do the Tumblr aesthetic thing, but it turns out, it takes more effort for me *not* to use capital letters, so fuck that.

Okay, but just imagine. The kids are all 13. Five has not yet fucked off into ye olde apocalypse. Reginald has caught Klaus wearing eyeliner and dancing around in one of Vanya’s skirts, because Allison rumoured him into doing 300 pushups last time he was caught in hers, and Vanya has no spine. So Reggie’s just shoved Klaus in the mausoleum, and as soon as he’s been let go, a sobbing Klaus sneaks out of the house.

He’s hiding in the alley outside the house, one of many probably, and is crouched on the ground, sniffing wetly and wiping furiously at his eyes. The eyeliner is long since smudged, but it’s stuck around because, hey, it’s not waterproof but it’s that shitty 90′s eyeliner that takes an insane amount of effort to get off. And he’s rolling a joint, but his hands are shaking.

And this queer werewolf couple happen to be walking by, and super-hearing etc etc, hear a kid crying.

And one of them is all “CHILD. CRYING. MUST PROTECT”.

“Maggie, ffs, you can’t just walk up to strange children and adopt them” “WATCH ME”.

And so this lovely werewolf couple, who are young, and haven’t been able to have kids of their own yet (but have a lovely pack back home) go and talk to a crying Klaus.

And Reginald has taught the kids loads of useless shit, but teaching them stranger danger? Nahhhh son. Sure, Klaus could put up a good fight, but why would he want to fight this nice couple?

And so, through tears, Klaus talks to them, and Maggie is like, looking up at her partner, Sofia, with these big earnest eyes. Because Sofia was like this, trapped with a shitty family who wouldn’t accept her for who she was. And Maggie is like “CAN WE ADOPT HIM” and Sofia is “...you can’t just take a kid off the street and adopt him” except Maggie basically did it to Sofia when they were both seventeen, so it’s not an effective argument.

And Klaus is crouched there, still in his damn skirt, his knees all bruised and filthy from being in the mausoleum, and his hands are grimy and a little bloody, and he can’t fucking roll this joint, and Sofia is just “he’s thirteen and smoking weed? THIS CAN NOT GO ON. MUST. PROTECT.”

And god, it does not at all take much convincing to come home with them except--

“I can’t leave without my favourite brothers 🥺“

Cue Klaus racing inside, trying to grab Ben and Diego to drag them off to his new family. And honestly, they’re not that hard to convince to leave either although they wonder if Klaus has lost the fucking plot, because he’s rambling and raving and not entirely making sense and he’s filthy and--well, he’s Klaus.

But Luther is very “No, we cannot split the team up >:(” and Klaus is just “Okay. Come with us, dipshit.”

And where Luther goes, Allison follows. That said, Allison had been listening from her room and is intrigued at the idea of an adventure.

And Five, who thinks they’re all a bunch of idiots, is just... “Ugh, I’m coming with because it’s me who will need to get you out of trouble when you inevitably land in it”.

And Five (and Ben) don’t like to leave Vanya out, so as soon as she’s back from her violin practice, they sneak her out too.

And that’s the story of how this lovely queer werewolf couple went on an afternoon stroll and adopted seven kids.

Because, hear me out if you’ve made it this far....

It’s initially a bit weird. The kids are used to competing for love and attention, for any skeric of a compliment. There are tiffs, really fucking fast. And Mom’s are like “Kids, this isn’t good pack behaviour”.

Luther’s ears pricking up because... “...does... does this mean we get to do Pack Bonding????”

Yes it does.

There’s no competitions here! Not any more than friendly ones, anyway. No competing for attention or love. It’s just lavished upon them because there’s a pack! Lots of parents!

Imagine one of pack members taking Luther outside to study the night sky, and teaching him all about moon cycles, and different stars and constellations. Some of these werewolves are as strong as him too, and he can spar without having to hold back!

Imagine some pack members saying “hey, Diego, let’s see who’s the fastest!” and Diego just *heavy breathing*. And of course, they let him win, but not in an obvious way. Just slowly building this kids confidence up, piece by piece. They don’t care about his stutter, and they show him love in loads of cuddles, and he learns to howl at the moon.

Allison is just... sisters. She’s always liked being the centre of attention, and so it’s an adjustment to be here with so many others. But she still gets attention. She’s shown that she doesn’t need to hold the limelight to be loved and valued and cared about. She doesn’t need to Rumour anyone because her opinions are actually allowed to be listened to. Why Rumour someone when she can just state why she wants to do something, and it’ll probably be allowed.

And they got to Klaus before his addiction spiralled out of control. They take him through graveyards during the day, not to make him control his powers, but to show him that he's never alone when facing his demons. Maybe they take him to a family crypt or something and introduce him to great grandmas and shit like that. It's hard to be scared of the dark and of demons when your parents run through the forests and howl at the moon and you have friendly ghosts on your team to talk to you when things get hard.

Some pack members are super smart, and for the first time, Five isn’t the smartest in the room. He weirdly relishes it. His thoughts and opinions and desires are listened to as well, and whenever he’s told no, he actually listens to why that is. Instead of treating him like a little asshole, they encourage his love of learning.

And then there’s Ben... Werewolf Parents: Now, Ben, we all have difficult things inside of us to control. Let's work on that and, also, on loving that beast inside us. 😌 Ben learns to control the Horror and it becomes like a giant swing and like, all the pack kids wanna be swung around by the Horror.... Cue pictures of the Horror with little ribbons wrapped around its tips or some bizarre and soft shit like that.

And finally, Vanya. Vanya, who is still Ordinary, at least at first. The Pack doesn’t mind her being on her meds, and don’t mind that she’s quiet and ordinary. There are other humans in the pack too! And they all love listening to Vanya play... Even when she’s just practicing, she usually ends up with a few people sitting there, delightedly listening in. And as time goes on, she thinks “hmm, maybe I don’t need these things for my nerves anymore... Maybe... Maybe I will be okay without them?” and Mom’s are like “well, there’s no problem if you need to go back on them, but if you want to try, we support you : )” And RUH ROH, there are powers??? HOLY SHIT. She’s mad as fuck, but instead of it being disastrous, she has loads of love and support. Like Ben, like al of the siblings, she has people there to help her learn how to manage her powers, and her emotions.

The kids are just totally loved upon and cherished and have someone there for them all the time.

And let’s not even get started on pack cuddles. actually, no, let’s.

Reggie used to be a real cunt about the kids and their need for contact. I mean, sure, they still tried to sneak into each others rooms for platonic cuddles all the time, but they sure as hell paid for it. And now?? Now, they can cuddle as much as they fucking want. Oh, Ben, Diego and Klaus wanna snuggle together every night? No worries, kids! We’re just gonna get you all a bigger bed and we can turn one of the bedrooms into a study or something. And slowly, there are just... entire pack cuddles. Allison has a bad day, and Klaus tugs her into the pile. And Luther sees and... Snuggles up behind her. Vanya, who is getting better at not being left out, who is more confident in herself, doesn’t fight when Allison brings her in. And Five? Five pretends he’s only there for Vanya, but they all know it’s a lie.

But they don’t call him on it.

Anyway. I’m just very here for a nice pack of werewolves adopting my babies, and them growing up happy and well-adjusted, and loved, and-----*record screeches to a halt*

DIEGO LOVES HIS NEW MOMS. BUT HE MISSES GRACE SO MUCH T.T

....So the Umbrella Academy band together for one final mission: to Mom-nap Grace.

It’s all very dramatic. I haven’t seen Spy Kids since I was, what, 13, but I’m gonna pretend it’s like that. They Mom-nap Mom, and she goes happily because she’s missed her babies and she gets to join the snuggle pile too. She loves helping out her new family too! And she learns new recipes and shares some of her own! Mom is happy too because LET GRACE BE HAPPY.

Anyway, they grow up happy, and well-adjusted.

And still as incestuous as fuck.

Like, that still happens in every universe.

And the wolf pack are like *chinhands* because like. Whatever.

/END

[words-writ-in-starlight]

torture buddies AU if you’re in the mood for it! if not, how about Good Omens AU of Vox Machina?

On the one hand, I’m always in the mood to Angst about my boys, but THIS ALTERNATIVE IS TOO GOOD TO TURN DOWN.  This is not really in the correct format but I REALLY fucking like this concept.  Pitch: Scanlan hits on Pike for literally six THOUSAND years and is still totally useless when she kisses him.

“So,” the snake said, smiling at the woman in the Garden.  Well, not smiling exactly, it was difficult to smile as a snake, but he was reliable informed that he was reasonably charismatic even as a reptile. He was a handsome snake, too, as snakes went, ink-black down his spine and red down his belly, with unusual eyes in a striking shade of slit-pupiled purple, and more than that he was convincing. He’d already convinced the woman all the way over to the Tree, where he was draped comfortably over the branches, and now he felt that the Tree could do most of the convincing itself.  He liked the woman, liked most of what he’d seen of humans so far, and he especially liked that they didn’t seem to have much in the way of impulse control when it came to things that looked delicious.  It made his job easy.  “It’s just an apple,” the snake said, with a slow blink of purple eyes.  “What’s the harm?”

The Angel of the Eastern Gate, newly assigned thus, recently removed from her post on Tree duty, was fidgeting.  Angels weren’t really supposed to fidget, and as a rule she was both a good angel and not a fidgeter, but she couldn’t seem to stop, spinning the hilt of her sword in her hand and blinking each time the flames whipped past the face of her corporation.  The humans stepped toward the Gate, the one that she would be expected to stand guard over—to keep them out, of course.  To drive the humans out of the safety of the Garden, into the wide and frightening world, alone and obviously scared, without even the dubious protection of a stick to fight off anything that might be interested in eating them, or a flint to keep them warm, or—or—or anything.

This thought did not advance much further before the angel found herself moving purposefully toward the Gate, so as to intercept Adam before he reached it.  The man flinched back, alarmed, and the angel managed not to titter hysterically—it was funny, really, her corporation was so much smaller than the man’s form, downright tiny in comparison, and here he was acting like she was about to smite him.

“Right,” the angel said briskly, forcing the hilt of the sword into his hand until he had to grab the thing or risk dropping it on his foot, divine fire and all.  “You’d better take this, I think you’ll be needing it more than I will.  There’s water to the west, that’s the way the sun sets.  Um.”  She glanced over at Eve.  “Congratulations,” she added.  “I’m told it’ll be a boy.  Now, get moving.”

Two hours later, there was a storm moving in over the horizon, and the angel was standing on the wall, squinting into the distance and trying to keep her long blonde hair out of her face, when the snake slithered up to join her.  One hand on her hair, the angel watched him change into a man with a suspicious frown, until he cocked his head at her, blinked a set of striking slit-pupiled purple eyes, and said, “You know, you could braid that.”

“Excuse me?”

“You could braid that,” he said, gesturing to her hair.  “To keep it under control.”  Then he blinked.  “You’re Pike, right?  The Guardian of the Gate?  Where’s your sword?”

                                                             ***

That was about six thousand years ago now, and now the snake—Scanlan—is getting drunk on the floor of Pike’s antique shop.  This is fair enough, really, because she’s getting drunk on her couch.

“Cute kid,” Scanlan says mournfully.  “Shame about the Apocalypse.”

“Yeah?” Pike asks.

“Little girl,” Scanlan says. “Lots of red—wha’d’ya call it. Hair.”

“Red is nice,” Pike says solemnly.  Her own hair is starting to come out of its braid, the crown she’s laced it into every day since—a long time ago, really.  She never bothers to use a miracle to keep it in place, letting it grow rumpled and wispy as she goes about her business, sometimes forgetting to take it out and rebraid it for days.  She knows this bothers Scanlan immensely, because Scanlan never goes anywhere without looking immaculately mussed, the kind of affected disorder that takes care and attention to achieve.  She’s careless with her hair for many reasons, mostly because she never got a taste for sleep and therefore often loses track of time, but bothering Scanlan is a bonus. 

Pike sighs and says, “Shame about the Apocalypse.”

“That’s what I said,” Scanlan half-whines.  “Think they’ll get you another sword?”

“Used to have a mace during the War,” Pike says wistfully.  “Liked it better.  Had a nice--” She makes a vague gesture and Scanlan starts snickering on the floor.

“A—a—a nice shaft,” he giggles.  “Or a nice—ha—a nice ball?”

“Yeah, sure,” Pike says with another heavy sigh, and drinks more wine.  Incredibly, a plan comes out of this.

Less incredibly, it is critically flawed.

In everyone’s defense, this as much the fault of Brother Tiberius at the Chattering Order as it is anyone else’s.

                                                             ***

While the wrong red-haired baby goes on with her life unaware of her newly self-appointed godparents, the right red-haired baby (the Antichrist, the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Princess of This World, Mother of Lies, Spawn of Satan and Lord of Darkness) is being doted on by her new parents, who are very nice people, if a little odd, and who name her Keyleth.  Kiki, for short.

                                                             ***

Eventually, it’s Keyleth’s eleventh birthday, and the error comes to light rather quickly when the hellhound doesn’t show up at the wrong baby’s party.  Keyleth, however, gets a dog, a clever little dog all black and white, whom she dubs Minxie and who does everything that Keyleth says.  Keyleth’s three best friends are obediently impressed with the fact that Keyleth convinced her father to let her keep the dog, and Vex is especially pleased with the fact that Minxie, in addition to Vex’s enormous wolfhound Trinket and Percy’s family’s greyhound Orthax, brings their pack of hounds to three.  Vax is mostly pleased that Minxie is small enough to be sneaky.

The newly named hellhound looks away from her adoration of her mistress, considers the two entirely mortal, much larger dogs she’s expected to play with, and decides that she seems to have gotten the short end of the stick.  She was expecting something more...apocalyptic.  On the other hand, her new mistress manages to find a tennis ball, so maybe it’s not so bad.

                                                             ***

Down the street, Allura Vysoren, Professional Descendant and Witch, is trying to unravel her ancestor’s prophecies, and would very much like to know who the witchfinder she’s supposed to marry is.  In the city, Kima Vord has no idea that she’s supposed to marry a professional descendant at all, and she’s pretty sure that the man hiring her as a “witchfinder” is a bona fide lunatic.  Viktor certainly acts like one.  But also no one wants to hire a four-foot-ten woman as a bouncer, which is really what she’s good at, and she recently lost her fifth job in eight months, so.  Witchfinding it is.  At least it gets her out of the house.

                                                             ***

The world’s biggest, most cheerful delivery man is being given three packages and a message.  Grog likes his work.  He gets to travel to new places, meet new people, get in bar fights at new bars against those new people in those new places.  So, sure, he’ll deliver a sword and a crown and some scales.  He’s just happy to help, really.

[seraphimluxe]

Saved by the Bell Part 1

Bucky x Reader

Warnings: gore, mentions of anxiety, evil zombie spirits, swearing, apocalypse, yeah the usual

A/N: I wrote this about a month ago and it was so bad i never planned to post, but I edited it today and don't think it's terrible? I've proofread this so many times I could probably recite it from memory 😅 this was also the first fic I'd EVER written so cut me some slack pls pls

Feedback is more than welcomed ❤️

°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°

She should have seen it coming.

Part of her knew something was wrong.

Her world was in a limbo and everyone could feel it. Whispers and murmurs were the only verbal acknowledgement that anything was out of the ordinary. The sky was a murky wash of dirty paint colors, birds were silent and animals were solemn.

It was as if all matter was resting for a great awakening. The opening act.

Or rather the reopening act.

As superstition tells it, hundreds of years ago the rusted bell in the center of town, once un-ringable, clanged her glorious song, and thus the heavens opened. Hell was released. Dark, zombie-like spirits clambered for their flesh and souls.

Those who weren’t consumed and torn apart, were transformed into mutants, with a mindset akin to their own, creating a being more powerful than humans and themselves. The process was time-consuming and agonizing for both parties, therefore only a few dozen were recruited. The few humans left over gathered with the town mage, closing the portal and casting the spirits back to their dimension. Little is known about the mutants. Some say without a leader, they fled the town, although where they went is unknown.

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

It woke you. It woke the whole town. The deep, sharp bellowing sent chills down your spine and adrenaline coursing through your veins. Everyone who heard understood it’s implications and purpose. Some were at work already, some preparing their meals, saying goodbyes before school, but within a few short seconds chaos erupted.

Clambering out of bed and through the front door, you braced yourself for the blinding sunlight, only to discover a dusky blight had fallen upon the world. Your eyes scanned the streets, men and women, a mass of panic and disarray. Instantly you recognized a familiar face, your almost-next-door-neighbor.

“Sam!” You caught his attention for a second before he shook his head and turned to the sky, fear laced in his eyes. You were afraid to look, almost knowing what you were going to find. Curiosity took its hold on, your eyes slowly trailing up to the apparent spectacle above you.

The sight was one you’ll never get out of your head, the sky opening up, letting darkness and ghost-like wispy creatures flood the earth like ants at a picnic. Any initial terror was magnified tenfold when a scream pierced through the air. Simultaneously snapping everyone to their senses, the crowd began stirring, shoving to get in any direction away from that.

“C'mon we gotta get out of here” Sam’s hand tugging on your arm, pulling you downtown with the crowd. There was shoving, another scream, followed by another, and another. Sam pulls you into a tight dimly-lit alley between two houses, both of your breathing heavy, and eyes frantic.

“Steve!” Sam called to the figure walking past the alley, and suddenly there were three figures in the alley- oh he’s got a plus one. A very large plus one.

Three men heavily breathing on you while the world erupted into chaos? Not exactly what you had planned this morning.

“Who’s she?” The plus one rasped, his voice dry from running, you assume. His eyes are piercing blue, even in the shade of the alley.

“A neighbor.”

“I’m Steve.” Followed by, what was supposed to be an outstretched hand, but in the tight conditions, just an awkward arm spasm, almost hitting your hip.

“Yeah, I gathered that much,” You joked, out of breath “I’m Y/N.”

“Cool. We don’t really have time for this shit.” Oooooh nameless plus one has a bit of an attitude. Duly noted. “We need to get away from the crowd if we want any chance at survival. They’re herding us like bison right now.” Pissy Pants has made a solid point.

“We could go to Natalia’s house?” Steve proposed optimistically,

“Mmm She’s-” An unnervingly close scream cut him off, he quirked a dark eyebrow underneath a long mess of hair. “She’s close to the docks.” he finished, “Let’s go, on three”

“Wait, wait, waaaait. Slow down, Tin Man”

Another quirked eyebrow, but this time it’s directed at Sam. It was a good look on him.

“We’re leaving. If you want to come, then come. Otherwise, just stay here and wait to die.”

“Bucky!” A whisper-yelled scolding from Steve. Wait, is his name Bucky? His mom must’ve been hitting the good stuff when she picked that.

Sam rolled his eyes and looked to you, awaiting your response.

“He’s probably right”

“That’s a big ‘probably’, Y/N.”

“Well there only one way to find out,” something between a scoff and a laugh escaped “Bucky’s” lips, and it would have surprised you, had it not been for his sudden countdown.

And as planned, you all bolted on “three”. Steve and his buddy leading the way through some kind of sick obstacle course. A second wave of adrenaline pulsed through your veins and sends your heart crashing against your chest. The pounding in your ribcage and ears is not unlike the sudden and loud noise behind you.

This had to be a dream.

There’s no other reasonable explanation, right?

A million various anxiety-provoking thoughts streamed through your head on a conveyer belt. Everything, and potentially everyone you know is being destroyed.

That’s lovely.

Upon arrival at Natalia’s house, the brilliant young men discovered that it was locked… And now you’re in the shed. Another dark, enclosed space with the three boys, but fortunately, this one farther from the screams.

“We need to devise a more long term plan.” Shorty with the hair has apparently mistaken this for a boy scouts training mission, and elected himself “troop guide”. He’s right, nevertheless.

“What do you have in mind?”

A glint of metal shifts across from you. A shovel maybe?

“They probably won’t be operating it, but taking the boat would be a good choice.”

“This is Bucky, by the way,” Steve whispers and gestures to him. You nod, Yup, gathered that much.

Bucky’s really got a vendetta against that shovel next to him.

“If we took a boat, we’d either be super screwed or super safe.” Sam offered,

“Okay, but what about our families? We’re just gonna leave them?”

Between Bucky sighing, and Steve grimacing, the answer doesn’t look good.

“Doll, this is survival of the fittest at this point. There’s no telling if they’re alive, and if we go out searching for them, we won’t last. We’re responsible for ourselves right now.” Bucky’s voice was softer than you were accustomed to, but still firm.

He was right. Now wasn’t the time to do something stupid and self-sacrificial-

“We could try-”

“Steve, he’s right. We could be looking for, God forbid, dead people. Or they could be safe and we’d get ourselves killed searching for them.” You hated what you were saying. You hated that the situation has come to this point. It’s been an hour and you’ve already resorted to abandoning your family. What’s next? Eating each other?

You shudder at the thought.

“Should we send someone to scope the docks, or should we all just go on three?” Sam, out here asking the real questions.

“Sendin’ someone to scope would kinda be a terrible idea, but I’ll volunteer if we’re gonna do it.”

“I say we die together.” 6 horrified eyes stare back at you. You clap your hands “Alright! let’s do it!”

“I’m down,” Sam shrugs

Everyone unceremoniously rising at once, serving as a reminder that this was, yet another, very tight space for 4 people to coexist in.

Upon standing, Bucky shifted into a stream of light coming from on of the cracks in between the wall panels. The once presumed shovel, is now very clearly not a shovel

“Oh fuck,” You whisper.

That’s his arm.

This shouldn’t have come as a surprise, mechanical and prosthetic limbs weren’t entirely uncommon in Aeston. You just somehow missed that small detail in the panic and chaos.

Wait, he was running in front of you the whole time, were you really THAT oblivious?

It was only when he let out a small chuckle, did you realize that you were staring, eliciting another mumbled “Oh fuck”

Thankfully, he changed the topic to a countdown. Everyone began preparing for a potential death, and on his cue, they silently fled. Steve and Bucky naturally taking the lead as you began to wonder where is this boat anyway?

That was your largest concern, until you rounded a corner and were met with Steve’s eerily large back. When you saw what stopped him, you wished you’d never left the shed.

A woman in her mid-fifties, half of her body was carnage, clearly having been dragged through the street. She had been consumed from the waist down, allowed her insides to spill onto the cobbled road. Worse yet, she was still being eaten.

Sam was equally as distraught as you, his eyes wet with fear and his hand trembling near his parted lips. The creature snapped it’s head up from her carcass, the gray skin of it’s face coated in blood. Up close you could see that it didn’t have a body, the flesh of the face faded into smokey darkness.

It opened its mouth and released a noise that sounded something in between a squeaky door, and a growl. Chills shot down your limbs, and you had to bite your lip to keep from crying. Your whole body was numb from fear, the blood draining out of your complexion.

Steve and Bucky began to slowly back up, one of their hands took residence on your arm and guided you behind them, and away. The very second they couldn’t see it anymore, Bucky whispered “Run.”

Fighting your shaking legs to function was a difficult task, focusing all your energy on not tripping. The pounding of your shoes on the road mimicking the one in your chest. Bucky’s back was your guiding light, and damn he was fast. Your lungs began to burn.

You were definitely not getting enough oxygen.

He hopped off a ledge and onto the sand a few feet below and ushered you down and under a pier. Grateful for a break, you scurried down and collapsed on the ground, panting. Your hands still shaking terribly, and you’re sure that even if you hadn’t just run 45mph, your heart would still be exploding against your chest. The image of the woman replaying in your head.

That could’ve been any one of you. That’s the reality you’re living in right now.

You don’t want this. This is bad. It’s childish of you to wish for a time machine, but you do. You’re desperate to feel safe for even a moment.

You also really don’t want to cry. Not here, not now, not in front of everyone. Crying isn’t practical and it’s not going to save you. Tough it out, you tell yourself.

Steeling yourself, you take a breath. Steve looks like he’s worse off than you. Though no one is shedding tears, the panic, horror and trauma is spelled out in their features and in their mannerisms. You wouldn’t have to be observant to note the almost tangible air of anxiety under the pier.

You and Bucky compose yourselves first, him being concerningly only half-affected. He opened his mouth to presumably say something comforting but was interrupted.

“Do you hear that?” Everyone held their breath for a moment, and all at once they noticed the whisper of hushed voices somewhere on the pier above. The soft knock of shoes against the wood. Sam and Steve still disoriented from the previous events, but the distraction wholly welcomed.

Bucky held up a finger and ducked out from under his cover, quickly pulling himself up onto the pier. You hear his heavy footsteps carry about twenty feet away, and then his low gravelly voice added to the rest. You’re unable to make out what he’s saying, but his serious tone quickly switched to a surprised and happy one.

Well that’s a good sign.

The engagement draws to an end, and the heavy clunk falls closer and closer to you, and then with a big thump he lands on the sand beside you.

“We’re good. Boat’s leaving in 10 minutes. They’re stocked with clothes and supplies and shit.” His voice was unnervingly chipper.

“And Steve, you’ll never believe who I found,” Another figure hopped in the sand next to him, a small girl who looked only a few years older than you.

The plus one has a plus one.

“Nat?” Steve asked, he still sounded weak, but carrying the same cheeriness as his colleague.

“Hey big guy,” Her voice was smouldering and husky, you’d be lying if you said it didn’t do things to you. It was the perfect contrast to her doll-like charm.

Wow, I can’t believe Bucky recruited an angel to save us.

“So these are the friends you were telling me about..” When she spoke those words, you realized you all probably looked bedraggled and forlorn, crouching under a rather short pier. Both Samuel and You were still in your pajamas. How embarrassing. “They’re cute,” Oh.

Wait, 'friends’?

“C'mon, we’ll get you sorted.” She glanced around her, scanning for any threats, before offering her hand to you. You accepted it and less than gracefully stumbled out into the open, finally taking note of your surroundings for the first.

It was the downtown pier, the one outletting to the Solair River, also known as “the river so huge it should probably be considered an ocean”.

Steve immediately assumed the role of Introducing everybody, awkward, but sweet. Apparently this was the “Nat” whose shed you inhabited. Cool.

Her constant glancing around and hurried steps almost made her seem paranoid, but her demeanor and casual conversation with Bucky told an entirely different story. Her hand on your lower back ushered you into silent line loading onto the ship.

You were boarding, leaving, escaping the life you knew with your neighbor and three people you’ve never met before. Putting your faith in them and trusting them in such a dangerous situation would either be your downfall or your saving grace.

Fear was silent and smelled like sand and cool, murky water.

[eph-em-era]

fusion

a pacific rim: uprising fic for @widow-tracer who I promised this to over two months ago. (sorry.)

if you want to prompt me, or give me ideas of things to write, send me an ask!

Saving the world doesn’t even seem to impress Vik. She just nods as Amara returns to their pod in the Shatterdome, while the other recruits, all shades of battered and bruised, crowd around her, pat her on the back, and cheer.

The praise is nice.

The warmth even more so.

Despite the whole ‘averting the apocalypse’ thing, it feels like it might be a while until she gets back in a Jaeger.

She shooes everyone away, using all her injuries as an excuse, and limps a bit over to her bed.

Vik just nods at her, again, and raises her bottle of booze to her lips, not even bothering to say hello.

But that’s fine, really. Amara had felt the tension when they’d first met, almost relished in it once they’d Drifted together, and she knows what to do.

Amara doesn’t chase girls.

Never has, never will.  

Vik might be cocky, and clever, and very, very pretty, but she’ll be the one chasing her.

Amara will make sure of that.

She cuts her hair back while she’s recovering, finds it’s easier to manage and repair Jaegers without it hanging all around her face. It might be slightly because of Vik, but pixie cuts are easier to manage.

Seriously.

While the Kaiju have been repelled, for now, they’ve been given the money by a bunch of very grateful world governments to repair the Jaegers, and restart their training programs. It’s all very good.

And Amara won’t need to go back on the streets. She’s thankful, at least, for that.

While they’re not allowed to pilot the Jaegers - something bureaucratic, and political, and dumb is stopping them - they’re certainly allowed to fix them up.

She’s jammed under one of Bracer Phoenix’s calf panels, welding couplings together, when someone taps her on her knee.

Amara jumps, swears heavily, and just stops herself hitting her head on the panel above her. “What?” She yells, not exactly pleased.

“Do you know that the panel above you is about to burst into flame?” Vik says, in a tone that is not unduly concerned.

“Yes.” Amara replies, which is a lie. She taps the panel above her head, and yes, it’s incredibly hot. Fantastic. “Vik, honey?” She says, sweetly, like butter wouldn’t melt.

“What?” Vik replies, voice still muffled. She seems further away, somehow, and doesn’t strike out at the term of endearment, which is a good sign.

“Do you mind hosing me down with a fire extinguisher before I perish inside the casing of your Jaeger?”

There’s no reply. Amara wriggles, trying to undo her mask and her tools from the body of the machine so she can slide back out into the fresh air.

She wriggles again.

She’s stuck.

Shit.

“VIK.” She yells, and the only reply she gets is the interior of the Jaeger’s casing suddenly filling up with pungent fire extinguisher foam.

Just.

Great.

“Problem?” Vik asks, even more sweetly, once Amara manages to free herself and stumbles back out into the fresh air of the hanger.

“I hate you.” Amara coughs, and spits some fire extinguisher foam onto the floor. It’s not toxic, but it’s the principle of the thing.

“You don’t.” Vik replies, and she’s right.

Amara doesn’t find sleep an easy thing to get any more. It was bad, sure, when she was fending for herself - she always used to feel the shrieking footsteps of the PPDC defense Jaegers rocking her from her sleep each night, but this is worse.

Now she sees Kaiju, and that’s just… worse.

She wakes, at 2am, restless and twitchy, with a burn in her throat and the feel of the Drift under her skin. She wants to be out, to be somewhere that isn’t here, to feel connected with someone else again. She wants to be in a Jaeger, but knows that she can’t.

Sleep won’t come, so she puts on some sneakers, and creeps out of the dorm.

The Shatterdome is constantly loud, even in the dead of night, but outside is quiet. She has a place, a little hidey-hole underneath one of the balconies, where she can fiddle with tech, dangle her legs out above the water, and just be.

She slinks past the edge of the dome, jumps a fence and squirrels her way into the hideout, completely by feel…

...and nearly jumps out of her skin when a voice floats (though that’s not quite the right way to describe it) out of the darkness. “Do you come here often?”

Amara swears, loudly and prolongedly, and nearly falls off the edge of the Shatterdome.

Vik, once she emerges out of the shadows at the edge of the hideout, just looks amused. “You have quite a mouth on you, Smalley.”

“Yeah, yeah, cut that out.” Amara replies. She won’t have it. She might be the youngest (and shortest) of the trainees at the Shatterdome, but if she’s going to meet her end it won’t be by falling 200 feet into the water because of a crush. “Try not to kill me next time we meet?”

“I make no promises.” Vik says, and settles next to her.

Well. This night has turned out… unexpected. “You’re talking to me?”

“Contrary to the beliefs of our leaders, Amara,” Vik leans back and dangles her legs over the edge, pressing right up against Amara’s side. “I don’t hate you. You have… spirit.”

“Good to know that I’m spirited.” Amara bitches, just a little, and throws her legs out over the edge of the dome with a sigh. Their feet brush together, sending shivers up her spine. “I mean, if I have that, what else do I need?”

“The Drift is calling to you then?” Vik says, eying her with a practised gaze. “You want to Drift? To feel another mind connect to yours?”

“How’d you know?” Amara cowes, just a little, under Vik’s eyes. Her look is too much. It’s poignant. A little bit too prescient.

“Why do you think I am not asleep?” Vik just replies, mysteriously. “We call it слива́ться. Joining. When many become one. It is not uncommon.”

“Yeah, well, I miss the Drift.” Amara talks, because really, there’s nothing else to do. “I mean, I nearly died last time I piloted a Jaeger, but aside from the nearly dying thing it was the coolest thing I’ve ever done! And we managed to survive, and I felt like Jake got me and I just-”

Vik pulls something from her jumpsuit. A pair of circular disks, joined by tangled twists of wire. “Do you want to Drift again? With me?”

Amara looks her up and down and just- breathes a little. “Yes.”

It’s a black market invention. Not quite as complex or sophisticated as something designed by the PPDC, but something familiar, able to mimic the feeling of the Drift without all of the unnecessary baggage. A pleasure tool. Nothing more.

They push back from the water, lean back against the dome.

Vik presses one of the disks to her head, then reaches out and does the same to Amara, without even asking. “It feels weird, sometimes.” She says, “Not quite like piloting. Too close. Don’t freak on me, okay?” She reaches out a hand to Amara.

“Okay.” Amara whispers, suddenly a tiny bit nervous, and reaches back.

Breakfast in Scrapper, watching the water in her bottle ripple as a PPDC Jaeger stomps by outside and-

A cockroach crawls up the edge of her plate and she squishes it with her hand and wipes it on her sleeve and she’s -

- eleven years old watching Leatherback crush Cherno Alpha into the water in one of the last battles of the first kaiju war. She bites her tongue but doesn’t cry she mustn’t cry and she’s-

-falling off a pier in Santa Monica, and coughing and coughing and trembling and ducking under the water as a kaiju slams its foot down near her head-

-and it’s so lonely living with her grandparents but it doesn’t matter and it shouldn’t matter and she’s going to get out of there soon anyway she knows she can be what her parents once were, she knows she can live up to their battle, she knows it, gasping-

-”What the fuck are you doing here, shrimp?” The older boy sneers, and fists his hand in her shirt, pulling her closer to him, “Who gave you the fucking right?” She stamps him on the foot and knees him in the groin, because she’s always known how to fight, always had to know and all she needs is some power cells to save her-

-and he throws a fist into her nose, and wipes her blood into her blonde, blonde hair, and she wants to give up but she-

-she looks in the mirror and wipes the blood from her hairline, brown hair frayed in knots along her back knowing that-

-she’s the hard one in the group of trainees, the one who doesn’t break down, doesn’t feel scared. She pummels the punching bag until it falls and she-

-peels the wrapper off a cupcake she stole from a dumpster and thinks, “Eighteen,” but doesn’t know why that matters anymore -

-and she’s locking eyes with a scrappy young recruit who’s done so much and too much and she’s jealous because of course she’s jealous cause the girl’s better than her already and she wants to hate her but she’s beautiful but she can’t ever say that and-

-Amara gives it back as good as she gets as they spar ‘cause she can’t ever let Vik win. And this has never happened, won’t happen, but they’re fighting in synchronicity, throwing punches and blocking at the same time, never letting one slip past, eyes locked, hearts beating in time -

- it’s слива́ться and it’s fusion and it’s the connections of a machine starting up and it feels tense and hot and real and -

- they’re the same.

- the same.

- the same.

- and they’re together.

together.

Amara yanks her headset off, throwing it to the side and meets Vik halfway for a kiss. It is cold and rough near the edge of the dome, but it’s just what they need against the heat in their blood.

It’s a plural now. It’ll always be a plural. They’ll always be a plural.

Amara doesn’t know how she ever went without.

[waywardrose13]

A Lost Soul

Request from Anonymous: How about an angsty fic where the Winsister!reader lost her soul and tells Sam and Dean that they aren’t her real brothers and that she blames them for Adams death (her real brother) or something like that                                    

Summary: After the reader loses her soul, her deep seated blame for her twin brother’s death comes to light, and she wants to avenge Adam in the only she knows how: to kill the reason he’s dead, which just so happens to be her half brothers: the Winchesters. 

Pairing: Winchesters x Half-sister!Soulless!Reader, Adam Milligan x Twin-sister!Reader

Word Count: 2427

Warnings: Angst, language, soulless!reader, character death, self loathing, blood, *Trigger Warning- Suicide*

A/N- I asked y’all to send me some angsty requests and man did you deliver. However, so did I. I’ve been in the angst mood (when am I not?) and so I got a bit carried away. This was supposed to be only 1k words or so but it’s not and I strayed a bit off the path. I wrote something completely different than I had originally planned. It just sorta came out and uhm... Yeah so... Enjoy? And don’t read if you’re triggered by suicide. 

A/N 2- Also, I couldn’t really come up with a great idea of how the reader lost her soul. It’s an okay idea but not my best so bare with me. It’s not really the main point of the story anyway.

Feedback is encouraged and greatly appreciated! It’s what keeps me motivated and it always makes me smile:)

[ Send me an angsty request! ]

The crinkled picture sat heavy in her hands, the smiling faces haunting her. Her eyes were distant, cold; cloudy with the memories of what once was. The old her stared into the camera, eyes bright, arms around her twin brother’s neck as he gave her a piggyback ride.

If she saw this a week ago, she would have cried.

But now she hardly felt anything. Her chest didn’t ache for him, didn’t long to have him beside her. No. Instead, she just felt the bloodlust, the absolute rage towards the men who caused him to die.

She stood suddenly, eyes looking up and locking with her reflection. Jaw set, eyes hard, nostrils flared. She looked downright terrifying. And now, she no longer felt the remorse for the buried feelings of the men whose blood she wanted to spill. Now, because of what had happened, she didn’t feel anything.

She bent down and retrieved the long knife, the one the eldest had given her. The blade gleamed in the moonlight that streamed through the open window, the breeze blowing the curtains and her hair, the cool air soothing her hot skin. Rolling her shoulders, she shoved her gun in the back of her jeans, slipping a second blade into her belt and twirled the knife, making her way out the door and into the night.

***

“Anything?” Sam asked, walking into the library. Dean shook his head.

“Nope.” Sam sighed.

“This makes no sense,” he said. “Why would she trade her soul for something? What did she trade it for?”

“I don’t know,” Dean said. “But obviously, she didn’t get what she wanted.”

“So her soul is gone… for nothing?” Sam said. “Who did she trade it to?”

“An angel,” Cas said. Dean raised a brow.

“How do you know?”

“It’s been all over angel radio. She wanted to trade her soul for another life, but they retrieved her soul before holding up their end of the deal.”

“Why would an angel do that?” Sam asked.

“Desperation,” Castiel answered. “Heaven is desperate.”

“Wouldn’t put it past those dicks anyway,” Dean muttered. Cas shot him a look.

“It still doesn’t make sense. Since when are angels making deals?” Sam questioned.

“They aren’t. That’s what I’m saying,” Cas said. “They tricked her.”

Dean opened his mouth to reply but the sound of the bunker door opening had the men’s heads snapping in the direction of the sound. Their breaths hitched in their throat at the sight of Y/N at the top of the balcony, face stone cold, each hand holding a long blade.

“Hey, brothers,” she said cooly. A small smirk appeared on her lips, a smile that made shivers go down the men’s spines. “I’m home.”

She slowly walked down the stairs, her eyes keeping themselves on Sam and Dean. Her hand was tightly latched to the blade’s handle, and when she reached the bottom of the stairs, she made her way to the middle of the war room, twirling the blades in her hands.

“Take it easy, Y/N/N,” Sam said, holding his hand out.

“Don’t call me that,” she said harshly. Her voice was smooth; low and angry. Dean swallowed thickly.

“Why not?” Dean shot at her. Her lip twitched, eyes narrowing.

“Because I said so, dick,” she hissed. Dean’s eyes widened a bit, his left foot moving back slightly.

“Y/N, just put down the knife,” Sam said. “Let’s figure out how to fix this together.”

“Together?” She whispered. She scoffed, shaking her head. “I don’t want anything to do with you two. I never have. You killed my real brother. You fed him to the wolves.” Her voice raised to a full on shout, face red. “You didn’t do anything to save him! You two only care about each other! You never cared about him or me! He was my brother! My twin! And you two got him killed.” He held up the knife, pointing it at them. She took a few steps forward, head tilting. “And I’m here to avenge him.”

“We tried to save him, Y/N,” Sam said slowly. “Truly, we did.”

“Lies!” Y/N screeched. “All lies! If you tried, you would have saved him! You’re the fucking Winchesters. You two saved the world. If you really put your mind and heart to it, you could have saved him.” Her voice dropped suddenly, lips curling back over her teeth. “But no. You chose to save each other instead. You always have, and always will. Adam was my brother. You two… never have been, and never will be. You’re pathetic, self sacrificing, dicks who just so happen to share my father-” She jerked her arms out to the sides. “And newsflash!” She yelled, making the brothers flinch. “He was just as much a dick as you two.”

Castiel walked towards her, eyes glowing blue.

“Oh, Cas,” Y/N said. The angel didn’t flinch at her patronizing tone, just kept walking. She smirked, reaching down. “You really shouldn’t have answered their call.”

She ripped her angel blade from her boot, slashing it through the air towards Cas. He jerked, and she missed his heart, but the blade still sunk deep into his chest. He groaned, falling to the ground, clutching the burning wound.

Her tongue ran over her teeth as she lifted her head to her brothers. “Come on boys. Lets dance.”

She raised the blade, sending it soaring through the air. Sam dropped to the ground like a brick, but Dean wasn’t quite fast enough, the knife lodging itself into his arm, handle deep, the blade coming out the other side. He let out a yell, gripping the handle and pulling it out of his arm with a hiss.

“That’s it,” he growled, throwing the blade to the ground. “If you want to fight, then don’t do it like a little bitch.”

She reached behind her, pulling out her gun and aiming it at his head. His eyes widened, and he ducked just in time for her to take a shot. The brothers both rolled behind the pillars opposite sides of the steps leading into the library. She let out an angry snarl, walking forward and picking up her discarded blade.

“Come on, boys. Don’t be a bunch of pussies,” she said in a sing-song voice. She laughed, using one of her fingers to run through the blood that was coated on the knife. Bringing it up to her cheek, she used it to make it look like a bloody tear trailing down her skin under each of her eyes. She wiped the knife off on her jacket sleeve before sprinting up the steps and leaping onto the library table, whipping around to see the brothers with their own guns trained on her.

They cringed at the sight of Dean’s blood on her face. His arm throbbed painfully, and the stickiness of the blood was uncomfortable. He hardened his features and put on a good facade, one that Y/N easily could see through.

“Look at this,” she said. Her body was crouched, like a coil ready to spring. Her gun was in one hand, the knife out in the other, a demented smile on her face. “The Winchesters manning up to their little sister.” She put on a fake pout. “You wouldn’t hurt a little girl, would you?”

“You’re not a little girl,” Dean said slowly. “You’re a grown up bitch.”

Smile fading, her lip raised into a disgusted snarl. “That’s rich coming from you. How many people have died because of you? How many failed relationships have you had? How many innocent people have you killed by killing demons?” She held her hand up to her ear. “Can you tell me?”

“Fuck you.” Her head turned to Sam, an almost impressed smile on her face.

“Look at you, Sammy. Using big boy words.” She shivered, shaking out her arms, pursing her lips and furrowing her brows. “Does that make you feel powerful. Oh boy, Sammy is all tough and angry.” Her words dripped with sarcasm and were condescending, making Sam’s fingers twitch in annoyance.

“Y/N, this isn’t the real you,” Cas’ voice came from the war room. He stumbled to his feet, hand pressed against his wound.

“How would you know? With my soul, all my real feelings were hidden away behind self loathing and guilt.”

Sam and Dean stole a glance at each other, hearts dropping.

“So… You’ve always felt this way?” Sam asked, voice low.

Y/N scoffed. “Well, yeah. Because it’s true. Adam was my brother. My twin. He was with me since birth, the person I could always count on and always had with me. He was my soulmate.” She shrugged. “My literal other half. And then he died. Turns out a ghoul was copying his face. But the angels brought him back. He contacted me first, and I was so happy he was back. I dropped everything for him. That’s when the three of us met for the first time. But you two assholes were tied up in the apocalypse, and you made Michael take over his body. How do you think it feels for your best friend… Your soulmate, to be in the cage with the devil himself? Hm? I don’t have my other half, and it’s all your fault.” Her eyes weren’t glassy like they usually were when she talked about Adam. They were blank, and that’s what scared the brothers the most. “I’ve warmed up to you two over the years, sure. But underneath the smile, the hugs, I still had some buried anger towards you two.” She bit her lip. “I’ve always felt guilty about it. Because you two really aren’t as bad as Adam and I once thought. But now, I don’t have to feel guilty about it.” She smiled, making the brothers frown deeply. “Now, I can freely feel what I feel. Not having to worry about a conscience or any of that shit. No. Now, I can do what I want, and not have remorse about it.”

She lifted her gun, face going stone again, firing off a round at Sam’s head. He dropped like a brick, making her humph in annoyance.

“Jesus, Y/N!” Dean yelled. He lunged at her, falling off the table with her in his arms. He grunted at the pain in his knife wound, trying to contain her wriggling figure. She head butted him, slipping from his grasp and kicking him in the face. “Shit!”

She rolled away from him, getting to her feet and crouching down. The knife was still in her hand, but the gun had been lost in the fall, sliding under the table.

“Y/N!” A new voice called. She stiffened, standing up straight. She turned slowly, narrowing her eyes at the newcomer. She tilted her head in confusion.

“Who the hell are you?” She asked. Sam helped Dean to his feet, the eldest hunter sporting a broken and bloody nose. He was gripping his arm, the blood flowing a bit faster now.

“God,” he said. “Well, Chuck.”

“God? Really?” She laughed. “Named ‘Chuck?’”

“You don’t really want to kill your brothers, do you?” He asked. She raised a brow.

“Yes. Yes, I do. They had Adam killed,” she said.

“No they didn’t,” he told her softly. He took a few steps toward her, a small smile on his face. “You’re scared.” She tutted, rolling her eyes. “You always needed someone to blame, because deep down, you always blamed yourself.”

Her jaw dropped. “That’s not true!”

“Yes it is. You had premonitions, didn’t you?” He asked. She shifted uncomfortable, her jaw clenching. “You saw Adam’s death before it happened. You saw his resurrection, you saw you’re reunion, you saw Michael take over him. You saw it all happen, yet you didn’t stop it. You didn't know how.” The Winchesters glance at each other in horror.

“Shut up.”

“After they all came true, you blamed yourself. But it was easier to blame your brothers, wasn’t it?” Chuck said, getting closer to her.

“They aren’t my brothers.”

“Yes, they are. And you know it. You don’t want to face the truth, even when you don’t have a soul.” He was only a foot in front of her now. “But I’m here to tell you… It wasn’t your fault, nor was it their fault. You’re free of your burdens, little one.”

She took a deep breath, lifting her chin. “You sound like a fortune cookie.”

He let out a shaky breath, looking over her shoulder to the brothers. “I have something for you, Y/N.” He reached into his pocket, retrieving a small, blue and white orb of light. “I rescued your soul.”

“I don’t want it,” she said. Chuck shrugged.

“I’m not asking if you want it. I got it back, you’re going to have it.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I hated… Feeling the way I did. I refuse to take it back.” Before she could turn away, Sam gripped her arms, holding her still. “Dammit, Sam! Let me go!”

“Y/N, this would be much easier if you complied,” Chuck said. She reared her head back, bashing it into Sam’s nose. His grip loosened, and she twirled away from him, dropping to her knees and sliding across the floor to her gun under the table. She popped up on the other side, raising it to her head.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked. Her eyes flickered to his.

“No matter how much I want to deny it, dickwad here is right. And I know that if I get my soul back, everything will go to shit. My guilt will eat away at me for attacking you two and… Adam’s death. I won’t do it,” she said.

“Put down the gun, Y/N,” Chuck told her. “If you do it, I’ll just bring you back.”

“No you won’t,” she whispered. “You’re God. You know how I feel. What I truly want. You know how I wanted this for a long time. And even if you did bring me back, I’d just do it again.”

“Y/N… Please,” Sam said. She rolled her eyes.

“Oh please. Don’t worry about me, Sammy. Hell, you’ll see me again soon, I bet. Thanks for… something. I don’t know.”

“Why are you so chill about this?” Dean asked, eyes wet. She shrugged.

“No soul. Kinda does something to ya.”

“Don’t do this, Y/N,” Sam pleaded.

She took a deep breath, giving him a smile, and said, “Too late,” before pulling the trigger.

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[mysticmysterywrites-blog]

Prompt #7

I want to do an apocalypse like setting with these three characters that I have. They're in a relationship with eachother, and have stopped at one of those middle of nowhere towns that just kind of exist?? Probably the only sign that the apocalypse hit being that theres no one around anymore and shit.

The first character is Amara. She's probably the most dangerous of the three, and is the type to shoot a bitch without hesitation. She has a soft spot for her partners and children, but other than that is willing to crack someone over the head and leave them to die. She isn't described in roleplay, but she's about 5'10, with long braided black hair and tanned skin. She has brown eyes.

Ko is the second character, and he is described in prompt. He's like the least dangerous of the three. He LOOKS threatening, but he doesn't know how to use like any weapons and basically acts as their doctor (Which, you know. He was studying to be one before everything went to hell land)

Asa (it's a nickname) is the final character. He uses a sword instead of a gun, which he defends on the basis of it being easier to kill zombies with. A lot more silent, and he normally isn't TRYING to hurt PEOPLE with it so it's all fine. That said, Amara is the one doing most of the fighting out of the three. He's the best smooth talker of the group though, and when it comes to dealing with people is most likely the one they'll turn to.

I imagine at this point in the roleplay, the apocalypse has been going on for about 3-4 or so years so far? Like, enough that the dust has startled to settle but still to the point where things are a bit panicked. These three have all been traveling together for about 6 months now, and Amara and Asa were traveling together for about a year before that. They do have an end goal to where they want to go, but your character will need to dig that out of them.

As for your character, they can be anyone! Someone that's been making this walmart their home and doesn't appreciate the people coming by? Someone who needs the medicine more than they do at the moment? Just someone on a supply run of their own?? Maybe someone younger then the bunch of them, and think's they're far tougher shit then they really are?? Possibilities are endless.

I'm willing to let this get Nsfw, but only if you and your character are 18+. But I do want this to be a slow burn kinda rp. If the plot takes us there, then it may happen. That said, you don't have to match this! I'm kind of cheating with the length by having like.. three characters. Just reply to your comfort, and I'll try and match! We'll be gucci.

Amara was not the type to trust easily.

It was just how it was in this bitch of a world. The more people you trusted, the more likely you were to get hurt. Or something obnoxiously sentimental like that. She'd learned that lesson time and time over, each and every time she'd placed herself in a group having been stabbed in the back. At one point /literally./ She knew better than to trust, knew better than to rely on others for her own safety.

...That said.

Even she had her soft spots. They were rare, and took time to grow. But they existed, and even she was willing to admit they were there. Her soft spots can in her two companions.

"Nah, nah you aint hearin' me out," Her first companion would laugh, somehow managing to walk backwards and bounce over every obstacle in his path. He was a small man, with a mohawk that had long ago begun to over grow (She'd need to talk Ko into cutting it for him. She'd offer to do it herself, but she'd always been a bit bad at that) bright blue eyes, and pale skin, "If we got horses instead of a car, we'd never have to worry about running out of gas. Maybe we'd have to worry about like.. Where we could store stuff. But we could totally go like-- You know those carts people would have on the back of their horses? Like.. The fuckin' Oregon trail games, that shit!"

"..Wagons?" She added, helpfully at that.

"Yeah! We could have wagons!! Could you 'magine tryin' ta shoot walkers in one of them badboys?" Asa raised his eyebrows, gaze more on the man next to her then herself. The man next to her- Ko. He was a sharp contrast to the sight of the other man. Tall, dark skin. Scars that seemed to dance and curl on his skin, and dreadlockes he'd managed to pull up in a style that she'd never be able to replicate behind him. He really was pretty, and whispers between herself and Asa had deemed that he probably couldn't hurt a fly if he'd wanted to.

Ko snorted, his arm moving around her waist. She could feel the hesitation in his motions, as if he was silently asking her "..Hey, is this alright to do?" To which she leaned in closer. Her own hand rubbing up and down his spine, fingers all but dancing on his skin. He was still so nervous about attention. And she really did understand, but.. She'd just sigh, allowing him a chance to ease himself into it.

Asa, on the other hand.. "You just want an excuse to have horses around," She reached over to smack his arm, needing to slip out of Ko's grip to do so. He stuck his tongue out at her in response.

"Fuck yeah I do. Horses are awesome," He shrugged

"Air conditioning," Ko said simply, as if that would debate all the point's that Asa was shooting out at them.

"We have generators! And fans!! It's basically the same thing!" It wasn't, and by the way Asa paused and deflated, he knew it wasn't as well, "Okay then. A farm. I want a farm. We gotta have a farm! I miss meat..."

She'd sigh, "If we can find horses, we'll consider- and I mean it when I say consider! taking them along," a stupid thing to agree to, but it at least got him to stop on it for a bit. And it did.

"Alright," She looked around the walmart. It was one of those kind of walmarts where she was sure that, back in the day when things were up and running it must have gone around and bought out every other grocery store in the middle of nowhere town, and had at the time had a balls out monopoly on the place. However, now that like 80% of America had succumbed to the disease that was zombiefication, it was just a flat out gold mine of possible things that they could find, "Ko, darling, can you go try and take care of food and medicine,"

"Mm.. what else would I be getting?" He tried to sound like he was complaining, but it sounded half assed and accepting of his roll among them.

"Know the most go get the most," She paused, "We can probably stop by the towns hospital before we leave if there's nothing left here, but mm.. Judging by the looks of this place, we'll probably be fine," She shrugged, sliding a cart her partner's way, "Asa, Can you go see if you can find batteries and lightbulbs and shit? And maybe bullets and other kinda weapons. You tend to be good at sniffing that kinda shit out."

He scoffed, "Good at sniffing them out? It's a talent doll!" He bounced in his spot, moving to grab a cart of his own, "I'll meet you in the medicine isle!" And just like that, he was off.

"Remember to pick up any seed packets you find! AND- Maybe. Another. Map.. He didn't hear me, alright..." She called out, before turning her attention to Ko again, "...I'm gonna go try finding us some entertainment. I don't know about you two, but I'm getting kind of bored with checkers and monopoly. Cards against humanity can stay, but it's on thin fucking ice," A groan of agreement was his acknowledgment, but it was one that hid amusement behind it's tone, "Be careful, yeah?"

"I'm the one you're telling that to?" He asked, eyebrow raised and a laugh on his voice. But as soon as he noticed the look she was giving him, he'd nod, ".. I will. I have my gun on me," He reassured, and for a second was okay with splitting up like this.

She'd taken her time strolling up and down the isles, occasionally picking shit off the shelves. There were a few boardgames she'd never heard of, some that she had heard of but had over played so much in her child hood that she'd just gotten board of them. And- Shit, was that pokemon?? She'd been looking for those games since this stupid apocalypse had begun. Should probably grab some nintendo's to go with it... She snatched what remained of the sorry game isle, popping the objects in her cart.

By the time she'd finished going through the isles, her cart had been at least half full, various hand held's and board games sloppily piled around her. Which wasn't a bad thing. It would, at the very least, give them something to do while they traveled. But they did only have so much room in their van. Hmm.. Maybe this would call for some reorganization in the back?

As promised, she'd made her way back to the medicine isle, flipping through the pages of one of the book's she'd picked up with a sort of half paying attention look to her, the other part of her trying to think of ways they could reorganize their van. While it WAS a pretty big van, it kept basically everything they owned in there. Maybe it was time to invest their time in trying to find a trailer and a truck?? Her smile twitched up as she even considered the idea of using the horses and carriages like Asa had suggested. She loved the guy, but god. They'd been doing pretty good at finding fuel so far, why would that be a worry now?

Besides, wouldn't they find SOMEWHERE safe before that became an issue?

Shaking her head, she rounded the corner she'd heard them talking from.. hell, the other end of the store, "I picked up some of these shitty smut novels. You know the kind. Oh Johnson take me /now!/ Kinda novel. And, like, How do you guys feel about DnD? I use to GM for my group before- Uh..." Slowly. Carefully. She put the book back down into the cart (On top of a few of the notebooks she'd managed to find. Another score). The scene registered rather quickly in her head. A person, someone she didn't know. Knife in their hand, pointed at her partners. The person looked like a startled deer, like the hadn't expected her to pop around the corner. Asa had his sword out, placing himself between the person and Ko, but lord. Did she not like how close they were to the two of them.

Her stomach sank, and her body reacted before she fully registered the scene, and she found herself with a gun in her hand before she could tell them to move, "You," Her tone was calm, but the kind of calm that held nothing but a storm behind it, "Need to lower your knife, and step away from the both of them. I will not hesitate to shoot you, and take everything you currently own."

[ladywinchester1967]

Dark Horse

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Evie (OFC) x Sam Winchester

Warnings: Loooooord, here we go! Language, jealous!Sam, angst, TONS AND TONS OF SMUT, praise!kink, threesome (NO Wincest), oral (male/female giving and receiving), fingering, spanking, double penetration, anal sex, hints at a poly amorous relationship. I think That’s it.

A/N: This is part of my Dirty 30; this idea came to me out of the clear, blue sky so...here we are! This is my first time writing sexy times for Sam, I hope I did him justice! Per usual, unbeta’d all mistakes are mine. Pictures are not. 

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

So you wanna play with magic? Boy, you should know what you're falling for Baby, do you dare to do this? 'Cause I'm coming at you like a dark horse.

Sam hadn’t meant to walk in on them; or at least that’s what he told himself. The sounds alone should’ve given away what he was about to walk into, but his curiosity got the better of him.

Through the shelving unit, he could see her sitting up naked across the desk, a familiar quaff of brown hair between her legs. She ran her fingers through his hair as he looked up.

A grin stretched across his brother’s face as she looked down at him, returning the grin.

“We better hurry,” she said, breathless “someone’s gonna notice if we’re gone.”

Dean scoffed

“Like I give a fuck,” he said “I want some more.”

She laughed as he dove back in, eating her out like a man starving.

“Oh GOD!” She cried out, throwing her head back.

Sam watched as Dean dug his fingers hard into her hips and she started to rock against his mouth. Sam quietly slipped from the room, a feeling of shame washing over him.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──���───»

He’d been in love with her for as long as he could remember, long before she became a hunter and fell under Dean’s spell. Sam had kicked himself for not making the first move, but Dean won her over, fair and square. He watched as they progressed from flirty friends to an item and it made him sick to his stomach with jealously.

He’d woken up one night to hear them going at it. They weren’t being overly loud, they were obviously trying to keep quiet, but the way the vents were situated in the bunker, he couldn’t help BUT hear them.

“Mh, Dean.” She moaned

“Fuck, sweetheart.” He said and could hear them kissing.

It wasn’t the first or last time he overheard them. Nor was it the last time he imagined her moaning his name instead of his brother’s. It had been one of his favorite fantasies when we was lonely.

“Mh, Sam.” He heard in his mind

He could picture her clearly under him, totally consumed by his body, her hands running over his shoulders and back as he slowly brought her up high.

“Fuck, Sam!” He heard her yell as he imagined her fingers running nimbly through his long hair.

He fisted himself hard as he thought about how tight she must be. Her warm skin moving with his as he kissed her sweet lips, drawing moans out of her.

He’d been there when she’d fought with Dean and she needed to blow off steam or be comforted after a fight. Inevitably though, they would make up and be okay and he had to pretend he didn’t seethe with anger when his brother made her cry.

But that was before the accident that took her from both of them. A drunk driver had lost control in the middle of a rainy, Kansas night and crashed into her car. She was killed on impact and Dean got the call.

To say Dean was devastated was the understatement of the century. When he heard the news, he let out a cry Sam had only heard from wounded animals. The profound heart ache and pain etched into his brother’s face as he crumbled to the ground made Sam’s heart shatter in his chest. They’d given her a hunter’s funeral, the only solace they could find was that she was far away from anything that could hurt her ever again.

When they’d found their way to the apocalypse world, discovered the camp that their mother, Mary, and Jack were in, they heard a spine tingling familiar laugh ring out. They’d both turned and there she was; like she’d walked out of their dreams. Her hair was long and in a side braid; her eyes shone in the later afternoon sun as she separated from her walking partner and walked toward them. Dean wasn’t sure if he wanted to vomit or cry when he saw her.

“You okay?” She asked them as she approached, standing at Mary’s side “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

“Evie?” Dean asked, stopping his mouth from dropping open.

“God, no one’s called me that in years.” She said, looking at him fondly “I know we haven’t met. I’d remember you.”

Later that night, Dean and Sam pulled Evie to the side to talk to her.

“So, you two are from the same world as Mary and Jack? And you and I were dating?” She clarified and Dean nodded. “Wow,” She said “that’s nuts. But wait, why did you look like you saw the ghost of Christmas Past when you saw me?”

“Where we’re from,” Sam said “you died.”

Her eyebrows furrowed together

“What happened to me?” She asked

“Lou Shannon, forty five years old and widowed. He was a local drunk and he lost control of his 98 Honda Accord in a summer storm, hit and killed you instantly.” Dean said, recalling the painful details. Her face softened as she looked from Sam to Dean.

“Dean,” she said gently “walk with me?”

Dean looked at Sam, who felt like he’d just gotten a punch to the gut. But he nodded and watched them walk off together.

When they’d brought the survivors over from apocalypse word, Sam watched them fall in love all over again while he played the role of the supportive brother and best friend to her. He wanted to be happy for them; the way they looked at each other, the way they seemed to get one another, the easy way they fit together. Dean was happier than Sam had seen him in years; he had his other half back and he was determined to keep her safe and by his side at all times.

Evie and Sam had fallen into an easy friendship, just like the one they’d had when the other Evie was alive. Apocalypse World Evie has a sharper tongue and didn’t laugh quite as easily as their Evie had. Other than a few smaller details, she was basically the same girl Sam had fallen in love with and had lost out to his brother, again.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

A couple of days after the desk incident, Sam wandered into the showers to get cleaned up. Nearly everyone in the bunker was asleep so he figured now was as good a time as any to have a shower by himself. He was quickly proven wrong as he opened the bathroom door and heard a moan coming from the back of the room. Worried someone was sick, he quickly and quietly made his way to the back of the bathroom and found Dean with the shower on and he head tilted back.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned “fuck, sweetheart I’m gonna-AH!”

“Come on,” Sam heard Evie coo “come in my mouth Dean.”

Sam swallowed and ducked behind a wall, his cock instantly becoming hard as he heard her obscenely slurp and lick on his brother’s cock.

“Fuck, like that.” He heard Dean moan. He heard Dean grunt and then cry out again. The sounds stopped as Sam heard kissing sounds and the two of them talking quietly, over the running water, it was hard to hear them. Sam chanced a peak around the corner and saw her wet and naked, wrapped up in Dean’s arms as she kissed him.

In his mind’s eye, it was him in his brother’s place. It was his cock she sucked on, it was his arms she slept in, he was the one drawing moans and sighs out of her late at night. She pulled back and her eyes flicked to Sam.

Sam froze, he felt rooted on to the spot. Should he play it off like he’d just stumbled in or just walk away? His heart thudded in his chest as she gave him a smirk and Dean kissed her temple.

“I think,” she said as she tilted her head up to Dean’s “no, I know, we have company.”

Dean pulled back and looked over his shoulder, seeing Sam standing there.

“Enjoying the show little brother?” Dean asked sarcastically.

“What?” Sam asked, embarrassed “No, I didn’t see anything I just, uh, I JUST walked in.”

Evie giggled, the same giggle that made Sam’s heart flutter.

“He’s being shy,” she told Dean “he’s been here a few minutes.”

Sam’s face went beet red as Dean smirked.

“Kind of figured.” Dean said as he kissed her again.

Sam tried to recover, but words failed him, his mouth was left opening and closing like a fish out of water. She gave Sam a mischievous grin and then looked up at Dean, her eyebrows shooting up. Dean returned her gaze and then smiled down at her.

“Sam, you want to join us?” Evie asked

Sam couldn’t believe his ears

“I, uh, I don’t, um.” Sam stumbled as he looked between Dean and Evie.

“You don’t have to.” Evie told him as they shut off the water and Dean handed her a towel. They got wrapped up and she walked over to Sam, gently touching his arm “We’re going to our room, the invitation still stands.” She told him with a sweet smile and sauntered out of the room.

Sam watched her go and looked at Dean, who shrugged.

“You can’t be serious.” Sam said

Dean scratched his head and said

“You heard her, plus it wouldn’t be the first time we’ve shared a girl.”

“But Dean,” Sam said “this isn’t just any girl, this is Evie. Remember? She was THE ONE?”

“I remember,” Dean said “it’s her, but not at the same time. She’s different, I can't explain it.”“I don't know if I should.” Sam said, he was tempted, but this was almost too good to be true.Dean sighed and said“Look, I'm not blind, I see the way you look at her.” Sam was taken aback and Dean went on “I'd be the same way if she hadn't chosen me, just being honest here.” Sam didn't say anything and Dean added “No pressure, just think about it.” and then left the bathroom.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Sam knocked on the door and Dean let him inside. Evie was laying on her back, but propped herself up on her elbows wearing a tank top and pair of black panties, as she watched Sam enter the room. Dean shut the door behind him and she said

“I only have a couple of rules.”

“Sure, of course.” Sam said with a nod and sat on the bed.

“Red is the safe word,” she told him “and no butt stuff.”

Sam cocked his head to the side

“That’s it?” He asked and she nodded “Easy enough.”

She nodded and asked

“Where do you want to be?”

“Isn’t this more about you than me?” Sam asked.

Evie sat up and covered her hand with his, giving him a smile.

“It’s about all of us,” she told him, running her thumb over his knuckles “I’m sure you have your own fantasies, or you wouldn’t have shown up. So, lay it on me.”

Sam glanced at Dean, whose arms were crossed over his chest. He nodded and Sam looked at Evie.

“You,” Sam said “on top of me.”

She got closer to him, her lips barely skimming his.

“I can work with that.” She said, barely above a whisper before she kissed him.

Sam felt like a volcano erupted in his stomach, however many times he’d imagined kissing her, the real thing was far better. She had soft, plush lips that tasted like vanilla frosting and a strong tongue that she slipped in his mouth and teased his tongue with. He grinned through the kiss and gripped her hair tightly.

“Mh,” he growled “I like that.”

“Me too.” She told him “lay on your back Sam.”

He did as he was told and she straddled his hips. Dean followed behind her, scooping her hair off of her shoulder and kissing her neck. She hummed in appreciation as she started to kiss Sam’s lips; his weren’t as full as Dean’s, but he was greedy. It felt like he wanted to consume her as they kissed, his tongue darting in and out of her mouth and him placing love bites on her lips, making her moan again.

“You gonna be good for me and Sam?” Dean asked as he nipped and left bites on her neck and shoulders.

“Yes,” she replied breathlessly and yanked off the tank top she was wearing. Under it was a no frills black bra “I can be good.”

“I know you can,” Dean said in her ear “show Sammy how good you can be.”

He kissed the back of her neck and got off the bed as Sam ran his hands all over her body. His hands weren’t as calloused as Dean’s and to her surprise, Sam wasn’t as gentle as she thought he would be. He sat up, deftly unhooked her bra and buried his face in her chest, kissing and licking over her breasts and nipples, making them ache to be sucked on. She moaned as she ran her hands through his hair, grinding her now soaking core into his painfully hard length.

“Mhhhh, Sam,” she moaned as he wrapped his lips around her nipple and sucked, making her grab his hair and let out a high pitched cry “AH! Sam!” She yelled as he did it again, his hungry tongue lavishing her nipple.

She looked over at Dean who was watching with lust filled eyes and palming himself through his boxers.

“You look so lonely over there,” she said with a pout and made the “come here” motion with two fingers to him “get over here handsome.”

Dean walked over to the edge of the bed as she reached for him, her hand replacing his. She took his length into her hand, her mouth watering at the sneak peek she was getting through his underwear. She tugged on Sam’s hair, making him look up at her.

“You know what I REALLY want?” She asked looking between them.

“What’s that?” Sam asked as Dean’s eyes rolled into the back of his head.

“I want you,” She said, looking at Sam “to go down on me. And I want,” she added looking up at Dean “to go down on him.”

Dean tutted and shook his head

“You already went down on me sweetheart,” he told her “have your fun.”

Sam laid back, bringing her up so that she was straddling his face. He pulled her panties down and off of her as Dean extended his hands out to help her hold her balance. She placed her hands on Dean’s forearms as Sam lowered her soaking core closer to his face. He flattened his tongue and licked her from hole to clit as she gasped.

“You taste so good.” Sam murmured against her skin, her used his fingers to part her inner lips and swirled his tongue inside her, making her moan and her back arch.

“Mh, she likes that.” Dean said as Sam repeated the motion, his tongue making torturous circles inside her as his thumb pressed into her clit. He rolled the swollen bundle of nerves as she started to squirm.

“Ohhhhhh fuck!” She moaned “Oh god, that feels GOOD!”

Sam removed his thumb from her clit and sucked it, making a high pitches whine from from her lips.

“Oh my god, Saaaaam!” She moaned as Dean lowered his head, taking one nipple between his lips and sucking on it while his thumb rubbed over the other one.

With Sam between her legs, lapping up every inch of her and Dean practically sucking her nipples chapped, she couldn’t believe her luck. Some girls would scratch out another woman’s eyes for this much attention from not one, but two attractive men like them. She inwardly smiled; she knew they both adored her and wanted to make her happy.

She moved her hips slowly against Sam’s tongue as he gripped her thighs.

“That’s it,” Sam encouraged her “ride my face.”

With his approval, she rolled her hips over and over again, his nose bumping her clit as he lapped through her dripping folds.

Meanwhile, she had taken Dean’s aching cock in her hand and began to work on it. She twisted and stroked the velvety light between her hand.

“Fuck,” she moaned, trying to keep her pending orgasm at bay “oh GOD!”

“Spank her Sam,” Dean said “she likes that too.”

Without warning, one of Sam’s big hands smacked Evie’s ass and she cried out.

“GOD!” She cried as she bit her lip, her moans becoming more and more elicit as he licked and spanked her hard. “Jesus, ah!” she moaned, her back arching almost to the point of pain as the Winchesters drove her higher. She let her eyes roll into the back of her head as she contracted one last time and then let go, coming hard on Sam's mouth and fingers.

“Mh,” Dean moaned as he kissed up her chest and neck “did you come for Sam like a good girl?” he asked in her ear. She breathed hard, spent, but she had a goofy grin on her face as Sam lapped up every drop he could get.

“She did,” he said “fuck, she IS a good girl.”

“Told you,” Dean said with a note of pride in his voice as she kept stroking him, making him bite his lip “what do you want next sweet girl?” he asked.

She thought for a second and said

“God, I want you both so badly.”

Sam came out from between her legs and kissed up her back, his hands roaming up her sides.

“Where do you want us?” he asked against her skin and let his hands cup both of her breasts.

She whined against Dean's mouth, unable to decide.

“Sammy wants your pussy, I can tell.” Dean said “Let me have your ass.”

“I told you, no butt stuff.” She said to Dean

“You said the same thing about slapping me around, and guess what you ended up liking?” he asked, his eyebrows shooting up and she laughed as Sam kissed her shoulders. “I think you'll like it, especially the way I do it.”

She huffed and relented

“Okay,” she said “if I say “red” you stop though.” she reiterated.

“Of course,” he said “a safe word is a safe word baby.”

She nodded and looked over her shoulder at Sam

“Sam,” she said, her fingers sliding through his hair and gripping it tightly as she kissed him “I want you deep in me.”

Sam quickly lined his length up with her waiting hole, easily sliding into her as she gasped. She stilled him from moving so she could adjust to his size; once he started to move, she gripped tightly to one of his hands while she pumped Dean with her free hand and kissed Sam.

“Dean,” she moaned “I wanna feel you too, please.”

“Anything you want baby.” he told her and freed himself from her grasp to grab the lube while Sam bent her on to her hands and knees. “Mh, she loves that.” Dean told Sam as Sam gripped Evie's shoulder and started to pump into her.

“That right?” Sam asked, as if to answer, she moaned and clamped down hard on him “Oh fuck, she does!”

Dean walked back over to them and Sam changed positions, laying under Evie while Dean got behind her. She was trembling as Sam sheathed himself back inside her.

“She's scared Dean.” Sam told his brother as he rocked her hips back and forth on top of him.

“Don't be scared sweetheart,” Dean told her gently and tilted her head back to his where he sweetly kissed her lips “I always take care of you don't I?”

“Yes,” she said in a breathy tone “always.”

“I'll take care of you, I promise.” He said and tenderly kissed her again. She nodded and looked down at Sam as Dean generously lubed himself up “Look at Sam and relax.” Dean told her as he lined himself up. Evie looked into Sam's hazel eyes; he was captivated by her and totally focused on making her feel good, the look he was giving her was similar to the one Dean did. She wasn't sure if it was because he felt more deeply than he had ever let on, or if it was because she was naked and bouncing on top of his cock. Not that it really mattered though; his gaze and gasping noises helped her relax as she felt Dean slide into her tight hole. For a fraction of a second, she hesitated, but she felt Dean's hand slide around her waist. He pressed the pads of his pointer and middle finger into her clit and she let out a sigh, relaxing almost instantly.

“Mh,” Dean moaned “oh, you're doing so good sweetheart.”

Sam watched as her eyes went wider, both brother's cocks filling her and making her moan louder.

“Oh, GOD!” she cried as Dean went past the tight ring of muscle, fully sheathing inside of her.

“Such a good girl,” Dean praised her, moving his fingers “such a fucking good girl.” he slowly began moving his hips. He and Sam easily found a rhythm as she moaned and squirmed between the two brothers, their names falling from her lips like a prayer. Dean moved a little faster, making her nearly black out from the overwhelming pleasure.

“I'm gonna, Jesus fuck!” she yelled “Faster please, both of you! OH FUCK ME!”

Neither brother could speak, they simply followed the command, fucking into both of her holes as she screamed out for both of them, her nails digging into Sam's chest while the other dug into Dean's shoulder. She opened her mouth to let out a scream when Dean clapped his free hand over her mouth.

“Keep quiet baby,” he said “that's just for me and Sam.”

It was too much; the pressure building inside her, both of them grunting and moaning under her and behind her, the impossible number of feelings running through her body. She screamed loud and hard against Dean's hand as a tear fell out of her eye. Sam slammed into her, moaning as he finished, holding her still and pumping his hot seed into her. Dean gripped her hard and came with a moan in her ear. At long last, she was untangled from them and she flopped on to the bed; a spent and twitching mess. She didn't care that she was caked in sweat and had cum dribbling down her thighs; the world could have ended in that moment and she wouldn't have noticed. Sam and Dean laid on either side of her, catching their breath. No one spoke for quite a while, then Sam picked his head up and looked at Evie, who was still twitching.

“I think we broke her.” Sam said, sounding genuinely concerned.

Dean looked at Evie, smirked and said

“She's okay, I promise. We'd know if she wasn't.”

They watched as she flashed a thumbs up at them, both of them chuckling.

Once they were cleaned up, Sam got dressed and prepared to go back to his room.

“Noooo,” Evie whined as he made his way to the door “can he stay? Please?” she asked Dean, making a full on, sad puppy face. He smiled and cupped her cheek.

“If you want him to say, he can stay.” he said and kissed her forehead.

She smiled as Dean settled on one side of her and Sam reluctantly did the same on the other side.

“Sam, why do you look so glum?” Evie asked, lacing her fingers through his.

“I don't want,” he said, carefully picking out his words “I don't want to ruin what you two have or step on anyone's toes.”

“We invited you remember?” Dean asked as he absentmindedly traced circles with his thumb on Evie's leg that was slung across his waist “If you showed up uninvited, we'd have some issues.”

“You're sure?” Sam asked, looking at the both of them.

Evie nodded

“Look, if this is where this ends, fine.” she said “I had fun, and as far as I'm concerned, the invitation is a standing one.”

Dean nodded in agreement

“If she wants both of us, I'm willing to try.” he said “Otherwise, this was an experience that none of us ever have to talk about again.”

Sam realized they were both serious; the realization was startling. In his opinion, the would require a lot more thought and consideration.

Now though, he was going to enjoy it for what it was. He slowly smiled and squeezed Evie's hand.

“Okay.” he said.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

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[margridarnauds]

Ronan Mazurier for the character thing. I want to know your first impressions of the Trash Panda Boi.

Keeping in MIND that my first time watching 1789, I was 17. 

First impression

I’ll be honest, I think it was something like “Oh, he’s hot, but scruffy. Oh wow, they’re both hot. But I’m not bi as fuck, oh no. I just want them to both live and have babies and survive the Revolution.” Like, the ONE thing I can distinctly remember from my first time with 1789 was spending long periods of time looking up fanfic on ff.net after my creative writing class at my local community college, desperately hoping for someone to give me the “Ronan and Olympe live in the countryside and raise a litter of Ronans” fic my teenaged self so richly deserved. (Which…is HILARIOUS given what I WRITE these days. I came so, so close. Incidentally, I REALLY didn’t like Lazare.) 

My issues with Louis Delort’s Ronan aside, I can STILL say that he’s pretty damn attractive. He’s just…also whiny. And bitchy. And really shouldn’t be within 5 feet of Olympe. 

With Zuka Ronan, I don’t think I BOUGHT it? Mainly because I didn’t understand that Ronan was DESTINED to be a twink. I think that I thought he was too helpless. 

With Teppei’s Ronan, it was like, “Wait a fuck, he looks familiar. Wait a second…is that L? IT IS. Oh my God he looks like a baby. HE’S SUCH A SCRAPPY LITTLE SHIT.” 

With Kato’s it was, “…Oh. It’s you. Again.” 

(These are really more my impressions from the 2018 trailers VS the 2016 ones, because Toho!1789 REALLY didn’t leave that much of an impact on me when I first saw the trailers. Yet another area where my teenaged self was very, very clueless.)

Impression now

Applicable to all Ronans, across the board: Scruffy Boi. Goblin. Also a definite twink. Possibly a reincarnated raccoon. 

In all honesty, I’ve tried to put so much thought into him over the course of nearly two years, it’s hard to really put Ronan into WORDS for me. Like, he’s become very, very important for me the last couple of years. He’s very, very flawed, he makes some terrible decisions, he’s hot-headed, can’t hold his liquor, narrow-sighted, insensitive, and is basically like a cat that someone tossed in a pool at one point and sometimes gets into random fights in the street (also might have fleas). But he also has SUCH a huge heart and really EMBODIES the spirit of the revolution as it stood in 1789, idealistic and fierce and so TIRED of a world that told them that they were fated to die in the muck because of a trick of their birth, questioning WHY they shouldn’t have the same rights as everyone else. There’s just this…SPARK to him.

Favorite moment

When he high fives Charlotte during Au Palais Royal, that moment in the Zuka one where he starts singing about how they can be with the ones they love and Peyrol comes up from behind him, when he calls out the Revolutionaries for their asshattery… 

Idea for a story

I have, like, 50 different ideas at any given period of time. I really, really want to get the Zombie Apocalypse AU off the ground, and the Assassin’s Creed AU (When I…actually…am able to get ahold of the glitchy Assassin’s Creed). And the Tanz der Vampire crossover (Ronan VS Herbert fighting for Lazare’s affections), the Terra Nova crossover, the Reincarnation Fic that is also a College AU…      

There’s also one moderately fucked up thing I’ve considered as far as dealing with Ronan’s reaction to Thermidor, but I would be VERY scared to actually write it up even though it would be 100% consensual. And one of these days, we’ll actually GET to the main body of the Abomination, though I have no idea what the fucking plot is anymore. 

Unpopular opinion

I don’t THINK that there’s really enough in the 1789 fandom to really…HAVE an unpopular opinion on Ronan? There was a time when I was a bit of a minority in the English-speaking 1789 fandom as far as actively LIKING him while still not really shipping him with Olympe, but I think the balance has shifted a little since then. My evil plan is working. 

One thing that I’ve noticed a bit in, say, the Russian and Chinese fandoms in particular is to have a particularly weak, subby Ronan VS HYPER sexual, predatory Lazare and…I mean, I can ROLL with it, but I tend to think that with them in a genuine RELATIONSHIP, Ronan has Lazare wrapped firmly around his finger and is the one most likely to initiate…things. I blame Takarazuka!Laz for looking so smitten half the time while he’s interrogating him. Like, Ronan’s a sub, but he’s not SPINELESS. Peyrol wouldn’t have noticed him if he didn’t have a spine, and he’s going to call Lazare out every single step of the way. It’s a kind of odd equilibrium that they establish. 

Favorite relationship: 

I have no idea what to choose. Me? Have a favorite relationship for Ronan? What could you be- *a dozen unfinished Peyronan fics fall out of the folder I’m carrying* Fuck. 

Either Peyronan or Ronan’s relationship with Solène, because the Mazurier sibs always have my full heart. 

Favorite headcanon

I have so, so many Ronan headcanons at this point that it’s hard for me to keep track. 

This is probably going to end up in the Abomination in some form or another, but Ronan got his absolute HATRED of any kind of injustice when he was about 8, when his mother died. It became obvious fairly early on that there were issues with the birth, and his father sent him to get help while he stayed to help her, along with the other women (Solène, ~6-7 at the time, stayed outside). He ran for ages, trying to find the local matron, but she was away somewhere else, so he went to the local physician instead, who swatted him away because his family couldn’t pay. By the time Ronan went back, his mother was dead, and even though his father told him time after time again that he’d done everything he could, he always felt a deep sense of shame over it, like he hadn’t done enough, paired with anger over a system that would turn a blind eye to that kind of suffering. That would come back in FULL FORCE after his father’s death, where he internalized his own guilt over escalating the situation with Peyrol into revenge. 

Also, he’s a chronic cuddler, due to growing up sharing a bed with his father and Solène, often instinctively cuddling with Lazare for warmth. Lazare’s repressed, touch starved ass will never SAY that he secretly likes it, but sometimes, when Lazare is late in coming to bed (which is often, given that he’s a workaholic) and crawls into bed with him, Ronan will find himself being pulled over to him. 

Also, he’s the reason behind most of the animals they adopt. Because he can’t STAND to see animals being abused and abandoned in the street, and Lazare, as we’ve established, is thoroughly whipped, even though he CLAIMS that Ronan is going to be responsible for taking care of them. (Somehow, Lazare is the one who always ends up walking the dog in the early hours of the morning, because, well, he’s up anyway. And one day, when Artois the cat is having stomach problems, he stays up the whole time. Which Ronan relentlessly makes fun of him for.)

[wine-anon]

Is it okay if I ask fora JoJo x reader fic??? Because, like, I love him and there just aren’t enough fics about him and honestly he’s just so under appreciated???

a/n: Okay so this took me ages to write because it deleted itself and then I had to re-write it and then I didn’t like it so I wrote it again. Yikes, anyway, I had this really cool idea after seeing the new Pacific Rim movie, I genuinely hope you like it! It’s a bit different to what I usually write, so tell me if you like it. I really, really hope you like it!!!

The Kaiju broke through the breach when you were only seven. You watched in horror as those monsters from storybooks and movies became real. The world changed that day, nothing was ever the same. When the Jaeger program was announced two years later, you knew in that moment that you would be a pilot one day. That’s all you wanted, you had to survive until you were old enough to pilot your very own Jaeger, no matter what it took. 

In 2021, you were recruited by Stacker Pentecost into the PPD Cadet program. You were only sixteen at the time and drifting didn’t come easy, you couldn’t find the right co-pilot to drift with no matter how hard you tried. You found a temporary co-pilot that you could mostly drift with just before the UN began pulling funding from the program to build the coastal wall. 

By 2025, at only 20, you were one of very few Jaeger pilots left, you were transferred to the Hong Kong Shatterdome. Not many were left open and after your last fight against a Kaiju, you were left with no co-pilot. Word went around that there were tryouts for two of the most renowned Jaeger pilots in recent history, so you took a leap of faith and signed up.

It was the morning of the tryouts, you had been running somewhat late and managed to run into someone in the halls.

“Oh, I am so sorry, sir,” you panicked at the man in front of you, “I wasn’t looking where I was going. I’m running late.”

“It’s okay,” his accent was rich, he was from New York, you guessed, “I’m running late too.”

“Where are you headed, er?”

“JoJo,” he smiled at you, he was gorgeous.

“Right, where are you headed, JoJo?” you looked at your watch at cursed silently.

“The pilot tryouts? I’ve never been here before, I got turned around.”

“Great, that’s where I’m headed,” you grabbed his wrist and led him down the halls towards the dojo. 

You arrived but sadly lost him in the crowd of people watching Raleigh Becket fighting Mako Mori. You watched in amusement as she beat him easily but frowned when Pentecost said that they weren’t to drift under any circumstances.

“Right, now that’s done,” Pentecost’s voice broke you out of your thoughts, “we’re testing compatibility with the one and only, JoJo de la Guerra.”

Shit. It was him. The man from before. He was the one you were testing against. 

“(y/l/n)!” your head snapped to Pentecost, “it’s your Jaeger. You’re up first.”

Shit.

“So, you think we’re actually drift compatible?” 

“We’re about to find out, de la Guerra.”

“Oh please, just call me JoJo.”

“What ever you say, JoJo,” you smirked at him from the other side of your Jaeger, your baby, your pride and joy. 

Cobalt Glory. She was one of the two Mark-3 Jaegers left in the world, she was launched by the British in 2017 and given to you five years later. The same year you graduated from Cadet to Ranger.

“What happened to you last co-pilot?” JoJo asked, his voice coming through the headset in your helmet.

“You’ll see in a second, you’ll be in my head remember?” you pushed some of the holo-buttons and set up your drift sequence. JoJo following your lead, “when was the last time you drifted?”

“Three years ago, in the Philippines,” you looked at him from across the space, his demeanour had shifted to a sad one. Whatever he was thinking was going to be in his head any minute now.

“At least you still look good in the flight suit,” you attempted to cheer him up, a small chuckle came through your headset and sent a shiver up your spine, there was something about him.

“I think I look great in this new style suit,” he grinned at you as the techs began to talk to you both.

“This is just a test drift, you’re not moving from this position, is that clear?” Pentecost’s voice broke through your headset, his voice commanding.

“You always have such a way with words, sir,” you joked at him.

“Watch the tongue, (y/l/n),” he chuckled at you, he always had a soft spot for you and you knew it.

“Drift sequence is ready, sir,” JoJo spoke clearly to the techs, he looked to you, “ready to get into this head of mine?”

“Let’s give them a show,” you winked at him, he winked back and your heart raced faster.

“Initiating Neural Handshake,” the robotic voice spoke to you both. Within a second every thought and memory JoJo ever had was passing through your head and yours through his. You tried to calm yourself at the influx of information and bad memories. You almost hooked onto one bad memory but quickly stabilised. 

“Left hemisphere calibrated,” the voice broke through again.

“(y/l/n),” Pentecost called through the coms, “you’re stable but JoJo is way off. Bring him back.”

“Yes, sir,” you spoke firmly.

“It happens to all of us, but we got there in the end,” you reassured JoJo.

“I almost blew up the Shatterdome,” he sighed heavily, “it was too much.”

“Mako almost blew it up too. Don’t worry about it. The memory was too recent for you to get over it quickly,” you put a hand on his shoulder and he looked up at you, “we completed the neural handshake didn’t we?”

“I guess you’re right,” he looked into your eyes and your breath hitched, “ya’know I say some interesting things whilst I was in your head.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you panicked and got up from your seat on the floor. You quickly made your way down the hall.

“Oh come one, (y/n),” he called to you, “I know what you think about me.”

“Goodnight, de la Guerra!” you called back, your heart racing in your chest at the thought of him again.

You woke up to the Shatterdome alarm and your door being banged on. You pulled yourself from your bed and ran to open the door. JoJo stood on the other side his fist raised. That stupid smirk back on his face.

“You’ve got two minutes to be at Cobalt Glory’s hub.”

With that he grinned and walked off, leaving you stand in the doorway watching people run past you. 

“Two minutes,” you sighed to yourself. He could have at least told you why, that boy and his stupid face. It was so beautiful, fuck.

You found yourself back in Cobalt Glory, hooked into her central hub and looked to see JoJo doing the same. 

“So, someone going to tell me what we’re dealing with?” you called out to everyone who could hear you through the coms.

“We’ve got a double event,” Tendo’s voice broke through for the first time, “we lost Cherno Alpha and Crimson Typhoon. Striker Eureka is powerless and we just sent out Gipsy Danger alone.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me this earlier!” you panicked at them all.

“Calm down, we’ve got this, we’re running flank for Gipsy okay?” JoJo’s calm voice caused your heart to race faster but calm down at the same time. You nodded at him and took a deep breath.

“You ready for this, JoJo?” 

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he looked at you, “are you ready?”

“Let’s do this,” you looked forward, “Tendo? Initiate neural handshake.”

“Neural handshake initiated.”

You were back in his head, this time his memories had you in them, they were focused on you. Your heart raced as the drift was completed successfully. There you both stood, the first fully successful drift between the two of you. 

“You okay, (y/n)?” you nodded at him, you couldn’t look at him, he was so gorgeous you’d get distracted, “stop thinking about me like that, you’ll make me blush.”

“Shut up, JoJo,” you moved in synch towards the drop zone, “we have a job to do.”

You were praised as heroes after the battle in Hong Kong. JoJo held your hand on the way back to your room and you swore that he was going to cause you to have a heart attack.

“I’ll see you in the morning at the meeting,” he kissed your forehead and left you leaning against his bedroom door.

“You’ll be the death of me, JoJo de la Guerra,” you sighed at his retreating figure.

“We’re doing what?” JoJo yelled across the room.

“Gipsy and Cobalt will be running point for Striker when we blow up the breach,” Pentecost informed the room calmly.

“But Herc is down,” Raleigh said, “you. You’re piloting her, aren’t you?”

“That’s our only option right now, does everyone understand?”

Multiple ‘yes sir’s’ echoed through the room. JoJo took your hand as he stormed out of the meeting room.

“Where are we going?” you spoke as he dragged you towards his room.

“We’re probably going to die tomorrow, not going to sugarcoat it,” he pulled you into the roo and closed the door, “I don’t want to die regretting never doing this.”

“Doing wh-,” you were out off by his lips crashing onto yours. You moaned at the feeling and wrapped your arms around his neck. You certainly wanted every part of this, especially considering the stakes of tomorrow.

“At the edge of our hope, at the end of our time, we have chosen not only to believe in ourselves, but in each other. Today there is not a man nor woman in here that shall stand alone. Not today. Today we face the monsters that are at our door and bring the fight to them! Today, we are canceling the apocalypse!”

The Shatterdome erupted into cheers at the end of Pentecost’s speech before it broke into a mad dash to launch the three Jaegers into the highest risk mission ever.

“Pilots to your Jaegers,” the robotic voice called out. You and JoJo made your way to Cobalt Glory’s main hub for the third time together.

“You ready for this?” he asked as you hooked into the system.

“No,” you spoke softly, “we might die this time.”

“Don’t think about that, doll,” he reassured you, “we can do this.”

“I hope you’re right, Jo,” you voice wavered.

“Initiating Neural Handshake,” the PON spoke to you both. 

The drift was easier this time, your connection to the man standing next to you was so strong that it took you mere seconds to be 100% connected.

“Cobalt Glory,” Tendo called to you, “you’re ready and have permission to go. Good luck.”

You moved across the ocean floor in the Jaeger, flanking left of Striker Eureka and the package, Gipsy Danger flanking right. Your ranks were broken when two category four Kaiju’s ripped through your formation.

Scunner bit at Cobalt’s arm and pulled you off to the side. You and JoJo slice at the Kaiju with your sword and punch it firmly in the face. It recoils and makes it’s way towards Striker and the package.

Yells are heard through your coms as a third Kaiju emerges from the breach, someone screams that it’s a category five, the first. A triple event. Your heart drops when you hear the yells from the Shatterdome.

You and JoJo make your way towards the break to help Gipsy with the other category four Kaiju. The two of you kill it within minutes but turn to see Striker being hounded by the other two.

In what felt like seconds, you hear the plan to detonate the package above the breach in an attempt to kill the two Kaiju.

In a moment, you’ve stabbed your sword into the ocean floor, tears racing down your cheeks as you watch Striker Eureka blow up itself, the pilots inside and the category four Kaiju attached to it. The water around you surges and creates a tidal wave. JoJo yells at you to brace yourself as the water crashes into the back of your Jaeger.

“What now?” Raleigh coms to your Jaeger.

“Um, we have to get through the breach and blow it up, that other Kaiju is still around here somewhere. We’ve sustained heavy internal system damage, what about you?”

“Same over here,” Mako calls, “look out!”You and JoJo turn in time to see Slattern coming towards you, you grip its head and throw it to the ground. It reels back up and launches itself at Cobalt again.

“The power core!” JoJo yells to you as your hold Slattern’s head in a death lock, “blast the head with the power core!”

“We’ll lose power!”“Just do it!” 

The two of you hold the Kaiju’s head and ultra-charge your power core. You release the blast straight into the Kaiju’s head, effectively killing it.

“Cobalt Glory!” Raleigh’s voice crackles through the coms once more, “how are you holding up?”“We’re dead weight, Gipsy,” JoJo replies, “Slattern is dead but we used the power core to kill it and we’re powerless.”

“Eject safely in your pods, we’ll take it from here,” Raleigh commands, “you’ve done well.”

“Will do, Gipsy,” JoJo speaks calmly, “good luck finishing the mission.”

“See. you on the other side, Cobalt.”

With that your communications are shut down, JoJo opens the escape pod override, you attempt to do the same.

“Shit,” you yell.

“What?” JoJo looks over at you concerned.

“My pod is damaged, I can’t use it,” you panic as your oxygen tank levels begin to decrease. 

“It’s okay, take a deep breath and disconnect, we’ll go in my pod together.”

You nod and do as he says. He grips you tighter than he ever could once you reach him and the two of you are ejected from Cobalt. Your heart drops at the fact that you have to leave her at the bottom of the Pacific.

You return to the Shatterdome as heroes once more, the four of you make your way through the crowds. Everyone watches as the clock is stopped for the last time. This was the end.

“I guess I should take you out on a date now,” JoJo smiled at you and pulled you into a deep kiss.

“I’d love that, de la Guerra.”