#Jack Slash taking hostages like-

[frustratedasatruar]

Have you considered The Ancient Advice Of The Sages (by which I mean the Evil Overlord List) advising one to monologue only after killing someone and not before, so as to minimize their ability to stall for time and escape?

if a supervillain said "you wont kill me thatd make you just like me" i would simply say "no it wouldnt id be saving millions of people" and the villain would say "but youd be dooming yourself. could you really live knowing youre a killer" and id say "well id certainly have trouble. ill probably be very sad about it. definitely a lot to unpack" and theyd say "so you wont do it" and id say "oh no im still gonna" and theyd say "what" and id say "youre a supervillain responsible for countless deaths and yet here you are desperately trying to bargain for your life. you want to live. which means you can easily live with yourself after being responsible for countless deaths. i, on the other hand, will at the very least have tremendous difficulty with even killing just one person and at worst might just jump out a window right after i do it. the very nature of this whole conversation about whether we are the same has proven to me we are very much not the same and i am certain killing you to save millions is the morally correct decision here" and theyd say "what" and id say "get killed idiot"

[megamuscle885-blog]

Severed - Worm Fanfiction Review

CW: Suicide and canon typical gore.

I don't think I've so eagerly anticipated an imaginary and, likely unwritten at the time of this post, scene in fanfiction than @heyitschartic's Severed. I've been following this series since it was posted three years ago. I'll avoid spoilers and the scene I'm imagining in question will be under the cut, but the basic premise is that Jack Slash chooses Skitter as his nominee during the Slaughterhouse 9 arc, rather than Oni Lee, who was disappointing, and Golem, who he later contrived the entire S9k arc for.

I will say that this work is a beautiful plunge into What Ifs which look all the more horrifying if you compare them against canon. You get flashback snippets of the S9 arc retold from a few perspectives before being thrust into post-GM, maybe pre-Ward? era with modern Skitter. I can certainly say that Severed blows all other S9!Taylors out of the water, Taylor is authentic in ways I haven't seen with anyone else. 10/10, each chapter is at it's absolute peak and it has 11 chapters as of this post. Each gut-punch has me anticipating the next chapter, only for the next chapter to explain why Taylor's friends and enemies hate her so much. I gasped when Tattletale said that to her. I strongly recommend Severed to anyone and everyone who hasn't already read it yet. Here's the link:

Oh wait does this count as the first of my Worm fanfic reviews--

So, I've read chapter 11 and I've been having Taylor and her clone rotating in my head endlessly, but the scene I'm anticipating is the one hinted at in Chapter where Defiant wants Taylor to go under the knife with Bonesaw again so Riley can fix all of Taylor's everything that is physically wrong with her, because her body is practically bio-tinkertech, even after they ripped almost everything else out.

I can only imagine Taylor reiterating that she refuses to be put under for the procedure, and using every moment to vent her anger and frustration on a Riley that is likely seeing marked improvement in her therapy (maybe). But Taylor keeps hitting her with blow after blow. "They'll never let you work on anyone else ever again, so you had better not kill me." and "Nobody will ever let you willingly touch them, I'm the only one who you can use your tinker abilities on, and that can change if I don't need you anymore." "If you ever find someone you can trick into letting you touch them, hold them, or even work on them, I'll kill them. It'd be better than the fate worse than death that letting you touch someone inflicts, and I should know, I'm living through it."

Maybe Chartic has something else planned, but I would like to see this Bonesaw cry. An unshakable, unmoved Taylor just heaps on the abuse through her own tears of pain, holding Riley hostage even as she roots through her guts to put her back together. It's very Taylor to fight through pain to force people to help her. The last time they saw each-other, Riley was doing well. I don't think she'll be doing very well after they meet again.

Maybe an overseeing team of surgeons and Capes become increasingly uncomfortable as Riley is tormented. They find themselves defending Bonesaw of all people, from one of her former victims too.

I'm sorry if this is unsolicited Chartic, but I can't wait to see their reunion, whatever form it takes. Severed's way of making Taylor suffer the consequences of her own actions, while invoking sympathy simultaneously with disgust at Taylor's betrayals; the depths she's sunken to, and then to finally wrap it up with shame and admonishment of her friends, turned victims, is masterful. How dare either they or I judge her for what she had to do to survive. Each chapter reveals that it got worse and worse. At some point, I suspect that (one of) the reasons that Taylor is being given such little leeway by the rest of the cast and remains constantly under the threat of harsh re-imprisonment or execution by vengeful kill-teams is because she somehow became the worst member of the Slaughterhouse Nine or even surpassed them in notoriety.

Tattletale telling Skitter to kill herself was such an insane scene that I stood up and covered my mouth. I was in disbelief. But knowing now that Skitter had betrayed the Undersiders to a slaughter by Mannequin (after having sacrificed her own father and, essentially, her own pre-cape life and innocence with him. The Taylor that she did not want to be, embracing the Skitter she chose to become) and then at some point caused the remainder of the Livsey family to kill themselves the same way Reggie did, with gunshot wounds, really clarifies that Taylor did something unforgivable. She exploited her friendship with Lisa to injure her in a way that can never be repaired. Lisa in canon never really had much to do with her parents ever again, but she probably didn't want them dead for neglecting Reggie.

I may edit this later, or reblog it, as new thoughts on the work come to me.

[fuckyeahisawthat]

While we like to joke about Izzy being in the wrong genre, I would argue that there are in fact at least five distinct genre universes in the world of Our Flag Means Death, and all of them have different rules.

Stede Bonnet, and his crew when they’re around him, live in a Muppet movie. I didn’t come up with this analogy but it’s so accurate. Insane physical comedy and comedy-action where no one really gets hurt. Mild peril but you know everything is gonna work out. Terrible puns and sight gags, but room for sweet, genuine emotional moments too. The rules of time, space, probability and logic will bend for a good joke.

Izzy Hands is in a grimdark action/drama where if someone gets stabbed in the gut they will behave normally and fucking die. (Probably slowly and painfully, of sepsis.) Crucially I think Izzy also lives in a genre where you can only be subtextually queer, and violence (done for or with or to each other) is the only acceptable form of intimacy between men. This is why being forcibly dragged into Stede’s world, where everyone is busy having silly low-stakes misadventures and being gay and emotionally available all over the main text--and seeing his Subtextual Boyfriend go into this world and love it--sends him round the twist.

The British, Spanish and other imperialist militaries are in a Master and Commander-style naval adventure where they’re the heroes. This is why they all take it completely seriously when Stede (unintentionally) kills Badminton and takes hostages, even though we can see that he bumbled his way into it ass-backwards. This is also why Stede is so shocked to get actually for real stabbed aboard the Spanish ship. (“Did you mean to do that?”) He didn’t realize until that moment that he’d stepped into a different genre. The stabbing is one of the first Surprise Genre Switch moments we get and in retrospect it’s very important for setting up that in this world, the threat of getting hurt or killed is very real--which we need to understand to know that there are real stakes much later, when Stede almost gets executed by the British.

Calico Jack is in Jackass. Everything is funny but especially pain--your own or other people’s. Everything’s a joke and nothing means anything and if you get hurt or hurt someone else (physically or emotionally) who cares, fucking laugh it off, cause genuine care and concern is for LOSERS. You can definitely be gay with your pirate bro but don’t even think about calling him your friend. Life is cheap and painful and short and you can’t trust anyone, so why not at least get drunk and have some fun before it’s over. Jack’s world is pretty fucking dark underneath the laughter, and I don’t think it’s a coincidence that we hear some of the most gruesome Blackbeard stories in this episode. It is not really that far from Izzy’s world, in that it’s also a place where violence is the only acceptable form of connection between men; it’s just played as slapstick around Jack. (Side note but I love that the humor in his episode gets progressively more strained, until we’re laughing uncomfortably, then not sure if we should be laughing at all, then convinced that we definitely shouldn’t be because the violence isn’t funny anymore.)

The fifth genre at work, of course, is romance. Ed and Stede follow the story beats of a rom-com almost perfectly, although in tone their romance ranges from comedic to earnest and heartfelt to bittersweet and heartbreaking, all played with complete sincerity in the moment. One of the reasons the ending is so gutting is that Stede has reached the Epiphany stage of a rom-com (the running-to-the-airport moment) while Ed is still stuck in Crisis (it’s over; I’ve gone back to my old life and I’m unhappy, but I haven’t figured out yet that I need to change things and how). And of course the writers had the brilliant-slash-terrible idea to end the season before the resolution stage, leaving us on an emotional cliffhanger and yearning for a continuation of the story. Bastards (affectionate).

Watching the characters navigate the different genres, and the moments of genre confusion that arise when the world we’re in abruptly shifts, is fascinating. While Stede is lodged so firmly in the rom-com genre that he takes it with him when he leaves the ship, Ed is a genre chameleon. He is able to genre code-switch better than any other character, and generally seems to know what genre he’s in at a given moment. 

Underneath his fearsome reputation, we see that Ed is an incredibly lonely and insecure person, and he’s constantly presenting the version of himself that he thinks whoever he’s with wants to see. We see this most dramatically when he instantly shifts into frat boy mode with Calico Jack, but upon rewatch you can see that he is constantly editing himself depending on whether he’s interacting with Izzy or with Stede, presenting slightly different versions of himself that he thinks they will approve of. And I don’t think it’s quite so simple as Ed being his “real” self around Stede and putting on a persona everywhere else, although I do think that there are ways Stede interacts with him that are categorically much healthier than anyone else in his life. But ultimately all of these personas are the real Ed, which is why I tend to think that a big part of season 2 is going to be Ed’s self-actualization arc, deciding which parts of himself he wants to nurture, what can be accepted and integrated, and what maybe needs to be made peace with and let go of.

While the story is definitely a romance in structure (in that the romantic storyline is the main plot on which everything else hangs), and it’s mostly a comedy, tonally it ranges all over the map. There are times when it’s a pretty dark comedy, and there are times when I think it steps out of the comedy genre entirely (particularly, when talking about characters’ past trauma, and in the second half of the final episode). Managing these tone shifts so they’re impactful but not disorienting requires really good writing and acting, and the more you watch the show the more you see all the brilliant little setups that make this work.

[dreaminpetals]

COMMISSION: norton & naib watch their s/o bleed out on the rocket chair, then comfort each other after 🧲 🔪

norton campbell ;;

Your heart dropped to your feet when you heard the chime that indicated a survivor had been knocked down. You prayed as you decoded ー Please don't be Nor, please don't be Nor ...

Hearing a laboured "Focus on decoding!" confirmed your fears. It was muffled, distant, but distinct. Norton had been chaired.

The frantic hammering of your heart in your ears overtook your senses as you sprinted towards the chair, shouting to Helena that you were going to rescue him. Your heart overpowers your brain whenever Norton is in even the slightest ounce of danger. This was one of those instances. You should have thought twice before hurrying to his aid.

You exhaled a sigh of relief when you approached his chair and noticed there was no hunter to be seen. Norton however had the opposite reaction. His expression contorted into one of pure terror when he saw you were the one rescuing him.

"Leave me! Get away from me!" His words fell to deaf ears as you dashed towards him, arms open and ready to free him from his confines.

Everything was going smoothly until you heard the words that would stay with you forever.

"Jack is behind you!"

It was a trap.

In a heartbeat, your back was slashed open and you collapsed to your hands and knees.

"Lovebirds," Jack hummed, stomping on your wounded back, earning a scream from Norton. "Now, where's that decoder..." he turned on his heel and vanished to hunt down Helena with an unmistakable bloodlust.

You weren't panicking yet. You could simply heal yourself, andー

You were out of self heals.

"The hunter is near me!" Helena wailed from across the map, sending ice straight down the spines of you and your boyfriend. The fourth survivor had been eliminated already. There was no saving you.

Norton's entire body was wracked by sobs as you lay curled in a ball on the ground, writhing around in utter agony. If it wasn't for the bar squeezing him down into the rocket chair, he would bandage you up and press endless kisses onto your bloodied skin, his own safety be damned.

He had never seen anybody bleed out before. The Prospector has always managed to heal his teammates, his only punishments being faced on rocket chairs. In Norton's eyes, you were going to die.

"It's okay," you choked out, "I'll be... be..."

"You're going to die," Norton whimpered in the highest tone you've ever heard from him. He sounded like a child with the way his raspy voice cracked.

Your eyes widened at his words. Did he think bleeding out was fatal? Oh no.

You ached to explain to him that the worst consequences were comas that lasted no longer than a week, but you were losing strength. Fast. As your throat closed up, speech became more and more difficult. It felt as if glass was piercing your windpipe, concealing the truth from your guilt stricken lover.

"'Sall my fault... fuck, I love you, okay?" He hiccuped through strained wheezes for air.

'Don't say that... I'll be okay...' you yearned to respond, but each second the invisible weight on your back grew, crushing you further.

Although your vision was spotting and blurring, you could see Norton tremble where he sat. His fingers gripped the bar holding him hostage until they bled. He was using all of his strength to attempt to free you somehow.

With one final, ragged breath, you closed your eyes and succumbed to your injuries. Norton didn't scream like you thought he would. He watched you sink into the ground in utter silence, sniffing back tears and coughing sporadically.

Despite the agony you endured mere minutes ago, you weren't rendered unconscious like previous, less fortunate survivors. You could walk, albeit with jittery legs and a weight on your back forcing you down. Having regained some strength, you noted that you could speak as well. Every bone in your body was aching for you to find Norton and save him from his unnecessary grief.

You immediately captured Helena's undivided attention when you hobbled into the manor, leaving a steady red trail behind you. She wrapped your wounds up with the first aid kit she kept on her, the smell of blood that lingered in the air faded with every careful swipe of your skin. Since you were in the room for injured survivors, Norton didn't see you when he stormed back into the manor. His physical wounds were nothing compared to his emotional ones. If only Helena finished patching you up just a minute earlier, he could have seen that you survived far earlier.

"Norton is in your room, by the way," Helena began, patting you on the back to signal that her work was done, "in the one you share. I asked where he was going."

"Our room," you repeated to yourself under your breath. You thanked Helena and promptly headed to your room, legs carrying you as fast as they could take you.

You were out of breath once you reached your shared room. A series of knocks on the door were greeted with silence. You noticed that the static sobbing from the room paused for a moment, then resumed.

Twisting your key into the door and unlocking it, you saw Norton swiftly hide your shirt underneath your pillow. Was he trying to get the last of your scent before it faded away forever?

"So. You've come to haunt me too." He spat, burning holes into your face with his unwelcoming glare. "Just like everyone else from the mines. Fuck off."

"Norton, it's me,"

"You're only pretending to be them. Second I acknowledge you're not real you'll go away."

His words shattered your heart.

Approaching him with caution, you kneeled onto the bed beside him and placed your palm on his cheek. He leaned into your touch despite his harsh words, his tear streaked face dampening your hand. "If I wasn't real, would I be this warm?" You whispered as soft as your voice could manage to be. His eyebrows furrowed as he stared into your eyes, searching for any signs of life. Your eyes were too warm and full of adoration to be a hallucination, a ghost, a memory.

"How did you...?" he began, teetering on the verge of tears again.

"I'm hurt, but... I'd never die on you, Nor. It's okay. I'm here." You pressed a nurturing kiss to his nose and felt his face heat up underneath yours. Pressing your forehead against his, he felt no malicious intent from you, unlike all the other visions he saw of his deported loved ones. He felt nothing but love and kindness from you, the same way he's always remembered you.

"It's really you," he uttered your name like a prayer, voice flickering above a whisper, before enveloping you in his arms and pulling you snug close to him. He bawled into your shoulder, letting the warmth of your body comfort him after one of the most horrifying moments of his life. You could feel his snot and hot tears bubble on your shoulder but you didn't mind in the slightest. You were home, in Norton's arms.

You knew that for Norton to cry in front of you, he was wounded deep. It was rare to see tears fall from his eyes and to feel him cling to you, terrified of letting go. Between pants, you could hear him beg for you to stay and never die on him. His pleas were answered by soft hushes and gentle kisses.

Norton pulled away for a fleeting moment to turn you around and examine your wounded back. There was a rip through your top and underneath were bandages stained with dry blood. Helena did a decent job of patching you up, though she definitely missed a few spots. Norton pressed chaste kisses to the exposed skin, his silent way of reassuring you he loved you no matter what.

"I'll kill him for doing this to you," your boyfriend hissed, teeth ghosting along your flesh. "I'll make him pay." His mouth was still connected to your back, and he could feel you shiver in response to his words.

"Nor, you don't needー"

"I'll never let anyone hurt you again. If anyone... if anyone ever does this to you a second time, I'll..."

"Norton."

Your sudden sharp tone caused him to freeze. Had he gone too far? His demeanour immediately switched and he pulled away from you, offering you a toothy grin to show he sincerely meant no harm.

You pulled your shirt back down and turned around so your calm eyes could meet his wide ones. "I'll be okay. I'm more worried about you, if anything. Come here." You patted your lap and the back of Norton's fluffy hair soon met your thighs. He laid down and began to rub the tears from his eyes, before you pushed his hands away and rubbed them into nothingness yourself.

He loved laying in your lap. Whether he was having flashbacks of past events, or if he was hurt from a match, laying his head on your soft thighs and gazing up at you with love never failed to calm him down. He felt so safe and warm.

"Have a little rest, Nor. I'll be here when you wake up." You rubbed calming circles into his hair as he nodded. His eyes closed, then opened again to ensure that you really were there and you truly were alive. You shushed him, both hands massaging his scalp until he drifted off into a comfortable sleep. He would do anything for you.

naib subedar ;;

"Naib's been containing the hunter for so long, you think we should help out?" Luca asked you as the two of you drummed away at a cipher machine together. You nodded your head in agreement, pulling yourself away from the noisy machine and overturning your empty pockets.

"I don't have any self heals, though. I'll shout if I need anything." This time it was Luca's turn to nod as he smacked the machine, steadily making progress towards your escape.

You roamed the abandoned factory for a few moments before hearing a distant yelp and the sound of someone falling to the ground. You followed the source of the sound to the factory, and the metallic clunks of Guard 26 carrying your lover to the basement made your skin crawl. This rescue was going to be tremendously difficult.

"Don't rescue me!" Naib managed to rasp as the hunter slammed him into the rocket chair. You could hear the pain in his voice even though he tried to mask it. It was always like Naib to hide his true feelings behind a cold front.

You knew Guard 26 chairing your only rescuer in the basement was a recipe for disaster, but you wanted to at least attempt to save him.

Hopping down the stairs, you were met face to face with the hunter. Their cogs whirred as they advanced towards you, and you stunned them momentarily.

"Oh, you're so stupid [Name]," Naib sighed as your fingers danced across the bar holding him captive. "Go back to where it's safe!" You ignored his cries and slid to the side, dodging one of Guard 26's strikes. The floor began to light up in an array of colours under you which you miraculously dodged, earning a gasp from your chaired lover.

Unfortunately, you weren't able to pull off the rescue of your dreams this time. You attempted to psyche out the hunter and trick them into hitting the chair, but their spiked bat met your side before you could pull away. Despite arriving without even a scratch, the impact of being hit as you rescued caused you to fall to your knees.


Blood pooled underneath you and you gritted your teeth as you waited to be chaired, the pain overriding your senses and bringing tears to your eyes.

That relief never came.

The haunting dings of Guard 26 slowly dissipated as they hopped up the stairs to find Luca. There were several other chairs in the basement, why didn't they chair you? It must be in their wiring to save as much time as possible.

You clutched at your stomach, wincing as crimson bloomed on your shirt. Panic hadn't filled your veins yet. You applied pressure to your wound, using the same healing tactics Naib had taught you before. Your plan was to do all you could while you were downed, then call Luca for help at the last minute.

Until Luca was terrorshocked.

Your eyes snapped up to meet Naib's the second you both heard him collapse against the cipher machine. Anxiety began to set in, your movements growing more sloppy. You nicked yourself more often, and Naib noticed it too.

"Easy there... Deep breaths, all right?" He cooed, wriggling to free himself from the grip of the rocket chair. His struggles were unsuccessful, though. No matter how hard he tried to escape for you, the chair wasn't merciful whatsoever.

You felt your body grow numb as you lost more blood. You could no longer feel the cold tiles of the basement. To you, everything was cold. You scooched closer to the chair Naib was trapped in and extended a hand. "Naib, I... I can't feel my legs," although his movements were limited, he was able to wrap his hand around yours and squeeze it tight.

"You're gonna be fine." He was lying through his teeth. Naib could see the glassy look in your eyes, hell, as your hand quivered in his, he could feel the life draining from it. Your voice wasn't a comfort to him anymore, every word you spoke was full of agony and he wished you would stay quiet as to not worry him more.

Naib has seen this before. He's been pinned under debris, forced to watch a comrade succumb to their injuries. It's why he's the man he is today. Always self-sacrificing, never leaving anyone behind. Yet he couldn't extend the same behaviour to you... his lover was bleeding out in front of him and there was absolutely nothing he could do. He tried so desperately to hide the fear from his face, but a single tear slid down his cheek and his expression sunk when he felt you begin to fade away. As you melted into the ground, Naib cried out your name until there was nothing left of you to hold. Then he followed.

You were awoken by the sound someone scurrying towards you. Rubbing your eyes, you saw a flash of colour before an excited hand met your shoulder. "You're finally up. Can you walk?" It took a few moments to process Naib's words. As you scanned the room around you, you spotted bouquets of flowers and numerous get well soon cards.

"What... what happened to me?" You groggily asked as you gazed at your hands. They had been bandaged up with care.

Naib swallowed hard as he replied, "you've been out for around a day. I've been looking after you... hope you don't mind." As your vision adjusted to the bright lights of your room, you noticed his shirt had been discarded and his chest was wrapped tightly in bandages. Both of you were left bruised and battered from that hellish match, it seems.

Your heart soared as you thought about how much Naib must adore you to watch over you like that. Though he acted coolly as if his actions were no big deal, you could sense that he was still worried about you. He touched you as if you were made of glass and his usual scratchy voice was replaced by a soft, considerate one ー an attempt to ease your anxieties and make you more comfortable.

"C'mon, let's get you cleaned up," his hand connected to yours and eased your weight onto the floor below you. You stumbled over your feet, but quickly met Naib's chest as his arms wrapped around your back. "Easy there, I've got you." He let you lean on him for support and helped you peel off your bloodied shirt before drawing a bath for you.

Naib kneeled beside the bubblebath you rested in, scrubbing your hair with his calloused fingers. It tickled ever so slightly, you couldn't remember the last time somebody had handled you with such care. His hands maneuvered around your body with precision and care as he washed away all of the dirt and dust that marred your skin.

A comfortable silence hung in the air until you decided to speak up, "what about you? Do you want me to wash you as well?"

Naib's expression softened when he heard your voice. "Iー uh, I'm good." His blunt response didn't match his gaze in the slightest.

"I can see you wince every time you lift your arms. And you smell."

"...Fine." He huffed in defeat, beckoning you to scootch forward to make room for him in the tub. You felt the water splash as he took a seat behind you and pulled you into his arms. "Hey. What you did yesterday... don't do it again, okay? I don't want you getting hurt ever again."

You turned over your shoulder to face him and he offered you a faint smile. It wasn't like his usual smug grins, it was more tender, something he couldn't get rid of upon seeing you awake again.

You could keep your head in Naib's warm chest forever, his steady heartbeat and the occasional ripples of water filling your ears. You were on the verge of falling asleep when you remembered that Naib needed to be scrubbed too.

Lifting his arms up above your head, you escaped his gentle grasp and turned around to face him. His expression was one of grumpiness after you slithered free from his arms, but the second you grabbed a loofah and massaged his skin his gaze molded into a loving one. His cuts had faded and closed up but they were definitely visible, and they looked like they hurt. A lot.

"I'm sorry for being so reckless, I just wanted you to get out safe." You whispered between fond swipes of his chest, really getting the soap in there.

He rested his arms on the edges of the tub, huffing in response. "When I tell you not to rescue, don't rescue, okay? Your safety's more important than mine." You attempted to object to his brash statement, but he shut you up with a kiss and stole the breath from your lips. Your lips remained connected for a few lingering seconds, and Naib deepened the kiss right as you expected him to pull away.

"...I thought I was going to lose you," he muttered against your skin, pulling away and pressing another, sweeter kiss to the corner of your lips. "Water's getting cold... let's get out," he drained the tub and scooped you up into his arms, bringing you to your bed and wrapping you up in a bathrobe. You were perfectly capable of dressing yourself, but Naib's must-take-care-of-lover instincts refused to let you do that.

He snuggled up to you from behind, nose breathing in the fresh scent of your hair. "Goodnight, love." And you dozed off in his arms, ever protective of you.

[angel-inked]

Silenced Fire: Chapter 11, Monster

Happy wip Wednesday!

This one was wrote a little bit ago but I've been busy lately so you'll have to bare with copy and paste lol

Taglist: @thursday-september-twelfuhthuh @thequeenofthewinter (if you want to be tag send me an ask)

Rose decided she'd better pay a visit to her folks the next day, Forrest wouldn't admit but he was counting down the seconds until she got back. Forrest felt like he was missing something, that something was Rose. He sat next to Jack with his back to the bar, as Howard handed Jack a vodka and started pouring a whiskey for Forrest. "So, uh.. Forrest, you and Rose?" Howard smirked. Forrest turned to his brother in confusion "sense when did you know anything about that?" He asked, taking the glass Howard slid toward him. "Jack 'nd I saw you guys in the kitchen last night" Howard explained. Forrest groaned, gulping some of his drink. "If it makes you feel any better, I thought it was nice to see you happy like that" Jack chimed in, as he leaned his elbows on the bar counter. Forrest downed the rest of his drink, gripping his whiskey glass tightly. "Ya need some more?" Howard asked. Forrest looked towards the wall and back at the glass in his hand, he sent it flying and smashing against the hardwood. "I guess not" Howard exclaimed, taking that as an answer to his question. Forrest rubbed his head roughly with his hands, groaning once again. "Forrest..." Jack murmured, reaching his hand out to touch Forrest' shoulder. "Jack, don't touch me" Forrest snapped, sending Jack flinching backwards. Forrest stood from his stool and picked up his hat that was hanging on the back of a nearby chair, placing it on his head. neither of his brothers dearing to say anything as he frustratedly walked out the front door, slamming it behind him.

Forrest sighed, he needed to clear his head. "What is happening to me?" He thought, trying to wrap his head around all the wayward feelings in his gut. He noticed a deer near the edge of a field that ran along side the gravel road he found himself walking along. He had a tense urge to tear the doe to pieces, he resisted. Forrest recalled something he hadn't mentioned to anyone. when he was being held hostage, one of the Silencer's men had pointed fangs and he sunk them into Forrest' shoulder. Forrest hasn't felt right since, it's like something is gnawing away at the inside of his mind. Something's... yearning to be let loose. "Forrest Bondurant" a voice said behind him, he turned around to see who the voice belonged to. Hmft, cops. Nothing Forrest couldn't handle "can I help you?" Forrest shrugged, he figured he could handle a couple law givers on his own. "I think you already know the answer to that" the one who seemed to be in charge spoke up. This man had a rusty sheriff's badge, so Forrest figured he could safely assume the constable's authority, the other only wore a deputies badge.

Forrest sighed, he walked towards the pair for a few minutes. The two men glanced at each other, not believing the notorious moonshiner would just turn himself in. This was their first mistake, never take you're eyes off a Bondurant. Forrest took the opportunity to draw his colt 38, blowing a hole in the deputies shoulder. The sheriff retaliated, shooting Forrest in the leg, in an attempt to immobilize him. Forrest drop to his knee, his injured leg giving way with him. "Give up now or I won't hesitate to use lethal force!" The sheriff yelled. Forrest looked up at the man, who was eagerly awaiting his reply, Forrest eventually found his footing and stood up. The sheriff suddenly had the look of fear in his eyes, as fur began to cover Forrest. Black fur engulfed Forrest. he snarled, as the sheriff shot Forrest in shoulder, only enrageing him more. As Forrest' new form longed forward, the sheriff slashed him with a hunting knife in a last ditch effort to defend himself, before having a set of strong wolf jaws latched down around his head, snapping it clean off.

Forrest shifted back into a normal looking man, breathing heavily. "What the hell am I?" He mumbled, looking at the carnage layed out in front of him. Forrest looked down at the damage done to his leg, it was... healing? What is happening?. Forrest stood for a moment, watching until the gunshot wound disappeared. He felt his shoulder, his hand readily found the injury left by the lawmans knife, next to his other gun wound. Those too were disappearing as they healed rapidly. The only thing left of the wounds was the blood and torn clothing.

"Hopefully he didn't get kidnapped again" Howard grumbled, as nightfall hit blackwater station. "Or worse.." Jack added softly. Howard slapped Jack with his hat "don't say that!" Howard scolded, he didn't want to think about the worst that could happen considering what Forrest had already been through. Howard sighed, running his hands through his messy brown hair. He walked out onto the porch for some fresh air, Howard perked up as he noticed an orange glow near the edge of the woods. "How.. Howard what in tarnation are you staring at?" Jack asked, shutting the door behind him. "Look's like somethin' on fire" Howard explained, glancing between the glow and his baby brother. "Huh, any idea what that's about?" Jack asked, eyeing the orange light for himself. "No, but we'd better check it out" Howard replied, placing his hat on his head, pulling it down low.

Forrest shifted back and forth nervously, his face flush with heat from the blaze. His bottom lip trembled slightly, as he reached his hand out to the flame. If this healed up as quickly as his other wounds did, he wasn't sure what he'd do. "Forrest!" Howard's voice called from behind him, causing him to jerk his hand back from the inferno. Forrest didn't turn around to face his brother, he just stared into the fire. "Forrest? Are you okay? You're scaring me" Jack uttered, just loud enough to be heard. Forrest didn't speak, just signaled for his brothers to come to him.

Howard and Jack compiled, walking up to the barrel of fire their brother seemed to be hypnotized by. "Damn Forrest" Howard exclaimed, soon as he saw the front half of his little brother "you look like you got in a fight with a bunch of pigs". "Not the kind of pigs you're thinking of" Forrest mumbled, clutching his hat to his chest with one hand and the other stuffed in his cardigan pocket. "You get into with cops?" Howard asked, his eyes narrowing. "Yep" Forrest nodded, still not moving his eyes from the flickering flame. Forrest swallowed a hard lump in his throat, it feels like he's hiding some kind of dirty secret from his brothers. "Forrest" Jack said, breaking the silence between the brothers. "What's wrong?" He added. "You're gonna hate me.."  Forrest murmured, finally shifting his gaze from the fire to the ground. "Why would we?" Howard asked, grabbing Forrest by the shoulders. "You are our brother and you will always be our brother, no matter what. You understand me?" Howard explained, staring Forrest dead in the eyes. "But.. there's a monster inside of me" Forrest murmured, the look in his eyes saying he was scared. There usually wasn't anything that scared Forrest, that told Howard this was serious.

"You're not making a lot of sense right now Forrest, could you be a little more specific?" Howard asked softly, trying to come across as comforting to Forrest. "I'll show you" Forrest muttered, walking away from Howard. "Promise you won't freak out?" Forrest asked, after putting some space between him and his brothers. Howard and Jack glanced at each other, both turning back to Forrest whilst nodding. "Wouldn't dream of it" Howard smiled, a genuine smile at that, not just the devious smile he usually had, a proper genuine smile. Forrest bit his lip and nodded, he aloud himself to transform once again. Howard and Jack stared at each other in disbelief, was this really happening? In place of their middle brother stood a jet-black wolf, the moonlight glistening off it's glossy fur. "Forrest? Is that really you?" Jack asked taking a step forward, trying not to let on to Forrest that he was slightly afraid, they promised him they wouldn't be.

The wolf slowly nodded, before reeling his head back in a long winded howl. He layed down covering his face with his paws. "Hey" Howard exclaimed quietly, "I think you're kinda cool lookin'" he explained, running his hand along Forrest' back in a petting motion. Jack found his nerve and moved forward, kneeling next to Forrest and copying Howard's actions. Suddenly, a car was heard. Pulling into the driveway, "I'd say that's you're Rose Forrest" Howard chuckled, "Uh.. you can change back, right?" He asked nervously. Forrest stood, moving in front of his brothers slightly. He regained his human form easily, despite only having discovered his powers, Forrest found them quite easy to control. "Heh" Howard exclaimed, picking up Forrest hat and handing back to him "that's quite the ability you got little brother" Howard smirked, clapping his hand down on Forrest shoulder. Forrest shook his head, following his brothers towards the station building. "Forrest!" Rose yelled, as soon as she saw his bloodied and ripped clothes. "What happened?" She exclaimed. "Oh, ol' Forrest got into it with a couple cops but he's alright" Howard smiled, patting Forrest on the shoulder. "Hey, uh.. Howard and I saw a big black dog wondering around this morning. I don't know if it's lost or what, so just keep your eyes open" Jack warned, Rose nodded. Forrest grunted, not sure if Howard and Jack were trying to cover his ass or trying to cover their own.

[red-winters]

*Batfam fic-recs

*Some are Tim Drake Centric

**Some links are not working in mobile (and ONLY mobile) for some reason? And some titles that were bolded in the original post are ALSO not displaying on mobile correctly. Idk what to do about that, but you can still look up the fic, I guess.

The Bat’s Crest - livierambles

Note: I will always keep recommending this fic. It’s epic, thrilling, and hilarious and sometimes angsty. Also, everyone is confused, including the ones doing the confusing. Maybe especially the ones doing the confusing. Also, some Tim and Damian bonding, which is always nice.

Summary: Tragedy strikes the hero community when Bruce Wayne commits a crime so heinous even the best start asking for blood. However, as the heroes try to recover from the hit and carry out justice for their friends, a random assortment of people start acting oddly, including the current Speedy Tim Drake, a child hostage in Gotham, and a young man from an unremarkable circus amongst others. All of them seem intent on saving Bruce Wayne from the grasp of the Justice League for no apparent reason, going as far as betraying their previous allegiances.

Unknown to the Justice League, these people are equally confused. Clearly they're stuck in another dimension, but how do they get back? How did they even get here? Who else is stuck in this world? And how long will Tim's patience last? Back home, the Bat was a planetary symbol that struck fear in the hearts of criminals. In this new world, it has no meaning, save for the handful of stranded souls.

In the Shadows - Kieron_ODuibhir

(shortened) Summary:

“I’m not like you.”

The cowl still looked like something he was wearing, but Clark knew it was not. It flexed like skin when Batman narrowed his blank white eyes and said, “I can see you know that.” 

Chirp - AmariT

Summary: Every piece of the signal Tim unlocked revealed more locks, and by the time he broke through the last one, he was already mentally rehearsing his many upcoming talk show appearances. 'Yes,' he told the interviewer, 'it was difficult for me, a ten-year-old genius, to break open the worldwide alien conspiracy. That's why it took a whole hour.'

When the crackling audio started, he expected some weird alien language. Maybe squawks and high-pitched squeals mixed with musical woofs. Maybe they wouldn't talk at all, and images would beam directly into his mind. Maybe they'd talk in practiced English with a Midwestern drawl like their other resident alien.

Instead he heard a low, guttural voice growling out of his computer speakers. "Robin," it said. "Are you in position?"

A Better Cage - Mangaluva

Note: I was absolutely DELIGHTED to see a Young Justice Crossover with the Justice Lords (Earth-50) from the animated Justice League series, which is near and dear to my heart. I admit I haven’t really had much time to hunker down and read this, but even skimming, it’s an intriguing piece of work. Also, Justice Lords.

Summary: Wally's grateful to have woken up at all, really. He just doesn't know what to make of the world he's woken up in. At least they want to find a way to his world as much as he does, if not exactly for the same reasons...

Common People - AmariT

Note: The Bat boys are all Bruce’s blood sons, but it still feels very much like a found family. I haven’t really read everything in this series, but I feel the author has an amazing grip on all the characters. Lovely and heartwarming.

Summary: His whole life, Jason’s mom had told him his dad was Bruce Wayne, but he’d never been dumb enough to actually believe it. They lived in a rundown, one-room apartment in the worst part of town, and in every single picture he’d ever seen of that rich bastard he was wearing a suit or sipping champagne worth more than everything they’d ever owned.

But if he wasn’t Bruce Wayne’s kid, then what the hell was he doing sitting outside the man’s office in Wayne Towers?

Red Robin and the Hood - momoejaku

Note: Haven’t read this in a while, but it made an impression. Though it’s a fic set during the Red Robin arc, it very much is about both Tim and Jason. Plus, it fleshes out the Pru and Z a bit more, too.

Summary: Bruce Wayne is dead. Superman brought back his body, and the family mourned him, holding a quiet funeral in secret so that the legacy of Batman could live on. But not everyone has been able to put him to rest.

Reeling from the loss of Bruce, his identity as Robin and his trust in his family, Tim Drake sets out on a personal quest that will take him across the world to prove what he knows in his heart: that Bruce Wayne is alive.

Though intending to make his way alone, Tim reluctantly accepts help from his predecessor, Jason Todd, who knows from personal experience that death is not always as final as it seems.

Together, they are Red Robin and the Hood.

Liminal Spaces - Calamityjim

Note: Skimmed this only since I’ve been busy, BUT it does look well-written, and I’m always a sucker for alternate dimension/dimension travel intervention-type of fix-its. It’s a very specific trope.

Summary:

Bruce's habit of collecting strays is not limited by dimension.

Or

When Young Justice Batman comes across an angsty, seemingly abandoned by his Batman Tim Drake, he decides to step up to the plate and parent the crap out of him.

Little Bird’s Vengeance - KatHarkness-Katara

Note: Crossover with Avengers. Awesome fic with Tim and Jason and some Outsider POV (via the Avengers) of these dimensional stragglers. I think Tim’s team shows up in the later chapters, too. If you’re reading on mobile, it’s still very much worth reading despite FF.net’s horrible format and abundance of advertisements in the mobile version.

Summary: Why is life never simple? Red Robin's ended up worlds away from home once again, and now what's he to do? What do the Avengers want from him; do SHIELD have another agenda; and is there any way back? Pre-New 52. No slash. Rated for inevitable language/violent themes.

A Displaced Red Robin - dragonprincess1988

Note: Worth reading despite FF.net’s horrible format and abundance of advertisements in the mobile version. Well-written fic! EMOTIONS! I love them. Younger Dick Grayson is adorable, Tim is a competent fixer-upper for other people but not so much himself. He’s kind of angsty and making YJ Dick want to keep him (and YJ Bruce, too, if you read between the lines). On the plus side, seems like he’s making good friends with Young Justice Roy. This fic was written before certain episodes of YJ came out, though, and the fic reflects/will continue to reflect that. Still, I give it five stars.

Author’s Summary: Tim gets transported to the cartoon Young Justice world, and he's not sure he knows how to deal with it. Attention: If you want to know about Artemis or people from Tim's world the final note on my profile is for you. Also, a special thank you to angel-gidget over at Tumblr, who made the wonderful cover art for this story.

The Till-then From the Ever Since - Keiron O_Duibhir

Note: Fandom classic. Definitely a must-read for Batfam fans, in my humble opinion.

Summary: It began, or seemed to begin, with Jason.

Usually that would have meant something in the order of fire and explosion and probably at least one gunshot wound, but for once (as Tim said, sourly), it wasn't actually Jason's fault.

The Wayne Family Ghost - pupeez4eva

Note: Please read this. Especially if you’re sad or anxious or just have time. I couldn’t stop laughing. It’s my go-to cheer-up fic. Absolutely hysterical.

Summary: In which Bruce realizes that having a legally dead son, who regularly hangs around the family, might be slightly problematic. 

Bloodline - chibi_nightowl

Note: Complicated family dynamics, this time centering around Tim, Selina, Bruce and, surprisingly, Damian. Jason and Dick make an appearance as supportive big bros, too. It works. Take a read, it isn’t that long.

Summary:

“Mr. Drake, I can’t think of a better way to say this, so I’ll just be blunt. This file is for your first adoption. By the Drakes.”

Tim blinked. “My what?”

“You were adopted as a newborn by Jack and Janet Drake.”

“Excuse me, but what the fuck are you talking about?”

Talon!Tim AU Series by keeptogethernow

Note: Found family, from a different angle. Cool fic and well-written.

Summary of Tso’ape Mumbichi, first in the series: Ten years ago, two people made a deal with the devil--unlimited funds in exchange for their child. And now it's time to pay up. But there's no way to ensure that the child will cooperate.

Shutterbug Series by goldkirk

Note: Exactly what it says on the tin! Found family.

Summary:

Tim Drake is thirteen, runs the famous BatWatch blog that has spiraled hilariously out of control, has absentee parents that suit his purposes just fine, is training himself to run the streets at night, and is doing absolutely peachy, thank you.

Alfred and Jason disagree, and get Dick and Bruce involved in figuring out their weird next door neighbor kid’s life. Everything goes uphill from there.

Thursday’s Child - anthalogia

Note: Well-written and has found family and Tiny!Tim? Automatic win.

Summary:

He’s not the first child with nowhere else to go that Bruce Wayne has taken in. Dick Grayson was the first and the most high-profile – because no one would have thought Bruce Wayne was interested in ever raising a child, let alone the orphaned son of circus performers – but Jason was maybe just as much of a shock to society for being a street kid who came out of seemingly nowhere. Tim Drake is ordinary by comparison – his parents died in a plane accident. He can’t think of anything very special about him except that he met Bruce a few times when his parents hosted parties to keep in touch with Gotham society.

Or, tiny Tim Drake is adopted by the Waynes a little earlier than scheduled.

We’re Not Driving (How did we get here?) - TimTheToaster

Note: Short and sweet, a little angsty, and then very sweet.

Summary:

Tim stared at his phone, as if that would change what was on the screen.

Dick Grayson @FlyingDGrayson

It took some doing, and in some cases a little blackmail, but we've finally got the whole family together for a movie night! #WayneManor #movienight #familytime #schedulingisanightmare

15 minutes ago

Take It Back Now Y’all - TimTheToaster

Note: And Tiny!Jason has made his appearance. Also, Tim, I am begging you to please take care of yourself—ah, Bruce has made his appearance. Interesting. Also, I gotta say this author is good.

Summary:

There was absolutely no way this sunshine was from Gotham in April.

Not possible.

Which meant, Tim was no longer in Gotham, in April.

(In which Tim finds himself in the past, and tries to do the right thing. It's more complicated than he'd like.)

Takes a Little Time, Takes a Lotta Twine (To Get Us Back Together) - TimTheToaster

Note: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, beginning of reconciliation, and brotherhood. A satisfying, cathartic moment during the Red Robin arc to soothe your heart.

Summary:

Tim was in Gotham.

Tim had pretty specifically been avoiding thinking about Dick as much as possible for the last few weeks.

For the last year, really. No need to open that can of carnivorous worms.

Dick had other plans.

Everybody’s Heard (Bird is the Word) - TimTheToaster

Red Robin Era ANGST, but like, deliciously well-written. Also, protective Dad Bruce is always epic. Light bashing of Green Arrow and BC, though. But considering the situation (in this fic), kind of warranted.

Summary:

5 times Batman heard other heroes talking about his wayward brother,

And 1 time they were talking about his son.

A Choice to Make - scorbusfics

Note: fresh and interesting premise! Cool world building, too.

Summary: They have to choose. Dick and Bruce have to choose one person each to save, and one to disappear through the door.

“Send one of us,” Dick says fiercely, not for the first time. His face is dark and angry and desperate, eyes flicking from brother to brother. “Send one of us instead. I won’t choose.”

“Neither will I,” Bruce says.

But Tim knows.

Secret Places - RenaRoo

It’s ANGST, but the author knows how to use it well. Also, Jason’s line at the end killed me. Damn.

Summary: Tim Drake goes missing. The search to find him begins.

[mythrilhusk]

Despite Everything - Chapter 4

NOT RPF (Ao3 Link) Words: 2,091 Last Chapter CW: violence

Feat. Relationship (only SFW): Niki/Puffy (Rainbow Arson)

Spirit Reference Key:  Niki Nihachu - Death  Captain Puffy - Fire  Jack - Light  Eret - Ice  Awesamdude - Dark  Foolish - Life 

On the eve of Puffy's birthday, Niki finds herself cuddled with her girlfriend on a beanbag sofa as Jack and Puffy's three other friends laugh and banter around her. She reaches for the cookies to dip in her chocolate milk. Puffy gulps down her own favorite drink, her ears already flushed red with tipsiness. 

Jack and Sam play a card game, taking shots every time they lose a round. The two other teammates Niki just met today, Foolish and Eret, dance around in the kitchen as they cook up dinner. 

Niki grabs a handful of popcorn and chews it thoughtfully. The others haven't pressured her to fight with them yet, but she's ready for the inevitable disappointment. She watches the card game, trying to keep her mind off of darker musings. 

Eret strides out into the living room, their bi-pride-flag cape swooshing behind them. "Dinner is ready, Captain." 

Captain Puffy grins and wobbles to her feet. "To the kitchen!" She crows. 

Jack groans good-naturedly. "Man, I was just about to win!" 

"No, you weren't." Sam retorts, shoving Jack's shoulder playfully. 

Niki follows Puffy to the kitchen, where Foolish has set up the dinner table with paper plates and plastic cups. "Thanks, Effy, my son." Puffy slurs her consonants slightly. 

Foolish smiles and waves a bashful hand. "No problem, Papa." 

Sam sits down beside Niki. She slouches in her seat uncomfortably as he smiles at her. He's been waffling for weeks between either unsubtly avoiding her and being overtly friendly. If she didn't already know that he's very monogamously in love with some other dude, she'd think he's crushing on her. But that can't be it, so Niki is confused in regards to his possible motives.

Eret serves everyone heaping piles of the noodles and stirfry. "Truly, a queen among humanity." Puffy giggles as she stuffs food in her mouth. 

Foolish laughs at Jack, who's formed a mustache out of his noodles. The banter is so normal, the scene so mundane, it brings an ache to Niki's heart. 

The heavy knock on the door shatters the illusion. 

Niki rises to answer, but the door swings open before she can peek out the peephole. "Why, hello." A gruff voice intones, two glittering eyes pinning Niki in place. "Mind if I come in?" 

"Who are you?" Niki crosses her arms, blocking the way of the shadow. 

"You may know me as Technoblade." The massive form ducks through the door and into the light, shedding the boiling shadows. Niki gasps and flinches back from the menacing figure. 

Technoblade adjusts the glasses resting on his muzzle, scratches his bristly neck, and widens his amused grin. Behind Niki, her friends have all stood up, tensing for battle. "Relax." Technoblade admonishes lightly, raising his claws. "I'm not here to kill any of you this time." 

"This time??" 

Technoblade laughs awkwardly. "Aha, don't let this scare you or anything, but I'm under oath to not harm any of you tonight." 

"What do you want??" Puffy snarls, yanking Niki behind herself protectively. 

"We would like you to join our anti-emperor coup d'etat as allies." His tusks glint as he bends his head to stare at them through his glasses. "Sam, you smell terrible." 

"Ha- what??" Sam clenches his fists. "Wanna say that again, big guy??" 

"Yeah, actually. You stink of guilt and lies." Technoblade shrugs. "Hey, that's none of my business though if y'all wanna associate with a traitor." 

"Out." Puffy growls, glaring up at Techno. "Get out." 

"Wait, wait, haha, I kinda have to secure this alliance. C'mon, Captain, what do you say?" 

"Fuck you." Puffy flips him off. "Leave." 

Technoblade shrugs. "K. Don't say I didn't warn you." He ducks out of the door again, once more shrouded in shadow.  

Puffy slams the door after him. "What the hell was that about?? How dare he come in here to, to try to tear us apart!" 

Niki steps back as Foolish and Jack join in Puffy's rage. She turns and meets Sam's eyes. He stares at her with broken desperation apparent in the welling tears. Eret offers Sam their hand. "You good, man?" 

Sam flinches. "I- I'm so sorry." 

The room goes unnaturally silent. Puffy breaks the quiet tension with a furious shriek, throwing up her arms and storming to the beanbag. She throws herself into the poof and muffles an angry scream. 

"What do you mean, Sam??" Foolish cries. "What are you sorry for, you've done nothing!! Right??" 

Sam drops his eyes with a heavy sigh. "I have prior loyalties that- I thought I wouldn't encounter him again, okay? I thought- I thought he was gone for good. But he's back. And I can't betray him again, or- or he'll kill all of you, and I can't let that happen!" 

Jack pats Sam's shoulder. "Hey, look, at least you had good motives." 

Niki leaves Jack and Eret to comfort Sam, and approaches Puffy, who kicks her feet on the floor, still making noises like a pissed off tea kettle. "Are you okay?" 

"No, I'm not okay!" Puffy snaps, going miserably limp in the poofy beanbag. "I can't even protect my own team." Tears well in her eyes. "I can't even protect my own fucking team!! Why the fuck did that goddamn bastard Technoblade notice before I did??" 

"I, I think he's still out on the balcony, Puffy." Niki hisses upon glancing out the window. 

"Damn him, of course he is." Puffy grumbles. "Please deal with him for me?" 

"Of course, babe." Niki impishly plants a kiss on Puffy's wrist, then leaps up. 

Upon opening the door, she scowls at the lurking Technoblade. "Fifty thousand a day." 

"Heh? That's a rather high price, what about-"

"This is not a negotiation." Niki smiles sweetly. "It's an ultimatum. We will be your allies in this coup if you pay each of us fifty thousand bullion credits a day." 

Technoblade huffs heavily. "Don't punt anyone, they said. Just barter, it'll be easy, they said... Damn Wilbur, he should've been here instead." 

"Take it or leave it." 

"Fine, I suppose that deal is okay, I guess." Technoblade grumbles. "We'll contact you when we want your assistance." 

"Deal." Niki slams the door closed on him once more.

Puffy giggles hysterically as Niki sits down beside her. "Niki, I can't believe you just extorted the Pax Triumvirs!" 

"Wait, what??" Niki shrieks furiously, leaping to her feet. "The what?? Didn't they beat up Sam??" 

"Yes, but- Niki, you good, babe?" 

Niki glares venomously at the window. "I am going to extort so much more when those bastards try to contact us again." 

Puffy guffaws. Niki glances back at her with a fond smile. In the kitchen, Foolish, Eret, and Jack try to comfort Sam with ideas on how to free him from whatever entity that's been threatening him. 

Nothing about this is normal, anymore. But Niki finds she doesn't mind so much. 

++++

Cloaked in the night, Badboyhalo trails Technoblade back to his base. The foolish Angel walks confidently, unaware of his stalker. Bad waits as Technoblade turns a corner. He sneaks around after waiting a moment. 

But Techno has disappeared. Bad huffs, annoyed that he has to use his meager strength to track the Angel. This was supposed to be a quick, easy mission. He closes his eyes and lets the darkness seep through him. 

Technoblade's form is a mere whisper tickling Bad's senses. Right behind him. Bad ducks; the blade of an axe whistles over his head. His daggers leap into his hands and he slashes for the Angel's arms. Feathers rustle, Bad's only warning before a heavy wing bowls him over. 

"Rude." Technoblade places a foot on Bad's chest, slowly increasing the pressure as Bad struggles to gasp for air. "Why are you followin' me?" 

"I, I was just, just passing throu-gck-!" Iron gravity wraps around his limbs, choking him. "Please-" Bad whimpers. 

"I asked a simple question." 

The pressure eases slightly, allowing Bad to gather his breath for an answer. "I- I just want to make sure they stay safe!" He cries. 

"Who? Nemesis?? They'll be fine. I ain't gonna kill them unless they try to cross us." 

"I know." Bad pleads. "I know, but the Lucid Spider is out and looking for revenge." 

Technoblade's eyes light up. He lifts his foot and yanks Bad to his feet. "The Lucid Spider, you say...?" 

"Yes! He's going to kill me if he finds me, but there's not time, I have to warn the Spirits." Bad brushes himself off. He glances up just in time to see Technoblade hiding a smirk. 

"Well, then. I've got some good news, then." 

"Oh? Really?" Bad perks up hopefully. 

Technoblade caresses the blade of his axe thoughtfully. "Good for me, that is. I'm not entirely sure how great it will work out for you, to be honest." 

"Oh-" Bad shrinks away. "Please don't?" 

"Alright. What'll I get if I let you go?" 

Bad thinks for a moment. He doesn't have riches, or anything really. "Uh, the satisfaction of doing the right thing?" 

"Heh." Technoblade laughs darkly. "I'm afraid that doesn't pay the bills. I can't have Quackity getting pissy cause I let a hostage go for having the moral high ground, now, can I..." He raises his axe. "You're comin' with me." 

Desperately, Bad kicks Technoblade in the gut. The Angel grabs his foot and twists, knocking Bad off balance. Bad shrieks as the axe slams down. It stops, hovering barely a centimeter away from the heartbeat pounding in Bad's throat. Technoblade scowls at Bad for a moment, then turns away and sheathes his axe. "Come on." 

Bad shrinks back, trembling with terrified adrenaline. He wants to go home. He wants to return to Skeppy and Antfrost, his team, his friends.

He starts to draw the shadows to himself in the vain hopes of sneaking away, but he's yanked into the air by gravitational forces beyond his control, then slammed down again. Technoblade doesn't even glance back at him, doesn't say anything, merely waits as Bad regains his breath and struggles to his feet. 

Badboyhalo looks over his shoulder at the nearest escape. Then he looks back at the Angel, who stretches his arms with a lazy yawn. He meekly follows his captor. 

++++

Antfrost and Skeppy search the bridges and alleys frantically for Bad. Skeppy gets increasingly more and more panicked as no traces are found. "What if Dream got him??" Skeppy cries. "That fucking bastard-" He bursts into tears. "Now Bad will never yell at me again!!" 

Antfrost growls low in his throat. He's grown accustomed to teammates dying, but the loss still aches. "We will find Dream and make him pay." 

"Ye-yeah!" Skeppy sobs. "I don't understand, how could Bad let himself be defeated??" 

Antfrost shakes his head. "The goddamn muffinhead shoulda taken us with him." 

"He didn't even tell us where he was going!!" Skeppy cries. "He could be literally anywhere!" 

"I will try to look." Antfrost kneels on the cold bridge and clasps his hands together. His eyes snap open, blazing golden as his cyan phylactery floats up from the silver chain around his neck. Beams of light flare and dance around his body. 

"Badboyhalo." He hums and Io hums with him. "I am Antfrost, Speaker for the Dead. I summon you. Badboyhalo!" 

Skeppy stares at Antfrost, never failing to be amazed every time the former Spirit of Death taps into his lingering power. Antfrost's white and gold outfit glistens with diamond dew, setting off the cyan accents of the sharp holographic wings fluttering behind him. 

"We can't find him." Punz murmurs through the invisible portal to Hel's gates. 

"He's not here," Fundy confirms. 

"We will search for him." Purpled promises. 

Tears bead in Antfrost's eyes. He struggles to close the portal and cut off his power. His dead friends give him spectral hugs, then retreat once more to whatever afterlives they've chosen. His eyes flicker closed as he collapses weakly to the ironwood planks. 

Skeppy wails as he picks up Antfrost. "Don't die!!" 

"I'm not dead, you idiot." Antfrost snaps with his remaining strength. "Just, just let me rest." 

Antfrost lets Skeppy carry him back to their team headquarters. Skeppy, dear Skeppy. Formerly Spirit of Life, until it was ripped from him. Badboyhalo, dear muffin, former Spirit of Dark, until he gave it up for Skeppy's life. Punz, Fundy, and Purpled were not so lucky. Antfrost senses his remaining reserves of magic. He's running too low. Just one more spell, and his own body could be torn apart by the forces that only the gods will ever truly understand. 

[crystalconjunx]

Can I request tfa blitzwing with female human s/o nsfw

You weren't entirely sure when your relationship with the triple-changer changed. You just knew that it had.

You were but a humble mechanic taken hostage with a few of your fellow Detroiters when you managed to strike up a conversation with one of your beleaguered kidnappers: a large german-accented Decepticon with three different faces who went by the name Blitzwing. The monocled blue face refused to look at you and the angry red one shouted insults at you, but the jack-o-lantern-esque one that called itself "Random" seemed more than happy to chat. At least, until help arrived and the autobots promptly saved the day.

You thought that was that until, one day, the same large three-faced mech plummeted into your backyard and just barely missed destroying your workshop.

He seemed injured, but the blue face with the monocle still pointedly ignored you even as he nursed an injured leg. Not knowing how to help, but not wanting to just leave the mech injured like that, you offered him some oil. That's what these guys drank, right?

Without a word of thanks, he picked the barrel up and cracked the top like a can of soda before chugging the whole thing down. 

Then he transformed right in front of you. You found the way his parts moved absolutely mesmerizing. It was a perfect shifting of gears and plates almost too quick for human eyes to follow.

Before you knew it, he had launched back into the air and flew away towards the city.

Ever since then, the jet-slash-tank-slash-giant robot had made himself plenty comfortable with crashing your workshop whenever he pleased and helping himself to whatever oil or gas you had lying around. Then he'd get familiar with the stack of cars he'd made into a couch and watch television while you worked on whatever car you had in the shop while simultaneously insulting, mocking, 

At least he actually spoke to you now. 

"You puny humans can't even make good oil," Hothead complained over the offending barrel in his large hand. "It always tastes like dirt and dinosaur bones!" 

"Well, what's it supposed to taste like?" You ask.

"Like energon! The way it's supposed to!" 

"And what does energon taste like?" 

"Like energon, obviously!"

"Wait, so there's nothing on Earth to compare it to?" You question.

"Not even close! It's awful." 

Damn human biology. Space goop poisoning was probably only a small price to pay to be the first person on Earth to try an alien substance. "Damn, wish I could try it then. Well, try it and live to tell the tale."

"I do have some." Icy said calmly. 

They were the first words he'd spoken to you at all. 

"Not enough for my tanks," he continued boredly, "but it would likely be more than you could drink."

"Really? What do you think would happen if I drank it?" You asked.

"Only one way to find out!" Random's still transforming face laughed gleefully before pulling a purple cube out of his subspace. It was laughably small in his hands, but it was about the size of a mail package in yours. It was full of bright, pink-purplish liquid and was surprisingly light.

"Wait, wait, isn't this stuff, like, super rare?" You ask as you accepted the cube. "I thought that was the reason you left your homeworld."

"Only a teensy part of it." Random giggled. "The rest is unimportant. It's really, really, super rare, though, so don't drop it!"

"And you're… just going to give it to me?" You asked in awe. "Are you sure?"

How could Blitzwing just offer you something so rare. You half-expected the mech to kill you at any given time. Now he was just giving you what could very well be a priceless alien energy source?

"Well, do you want it or not?" Hothead demanded. "Like I said, it's barely half a tank for me. At least if I give it to you I might see a human— I don't know. What do you guys do when you die? Pop or something?"

"Ooh!" Random interjected. "I love it when they pop! Come on, Y/N, down the hatch! Let's see what other colors you organics have!" 

That was the first time any of the personalities had said your name. So Blitzwing did remember all those times you told him you weren't just called 'human,' the lying bastard.

"Well…" The bright pink liquid certainly looked palatable enough. Maybe just a little taste wouldn't kill you?

You lifted the cube up and gave it a small sniff. It didn't smell toxic, at least.

"Ugh, don't be such a coward, human!" Hothead complained. Ah, you lamented, there went the first-name basis. You heard rather than saw his face transform again before Random petulantly nudged the drink with his finger— it was a move too weak to send you onto your ass, but more than enough to make you jolt and spill half the cube of energon all over yourself. 

"Look what you did, you waste of space!" Hothead roared. "I told you that energon was rare and you spill half of it on yourself like a newspark!"

You sputtered as the pinkish liquid seeped into your clothes and soaked every inch of your skin and set the rest of the cube down before turning to scowl up at the giant mech. "Me? You're the one that poked it! You almost knocked me over!"

"It's not my fault you're so weak, Y/N!" He mocked before Icy took over. 

The cool jet leaned down to the ground, his optics peering at you as if he could see right through you. Even his breath carried a slight chill as he spoke this close to you. 

"That was quite the waste, Schatz, but I have an idea of how you can make it up to me."

"Y-yeah?" You said as you could feel the cold against your wet skin, "And what's that? 

You were suddenly in the hands of a very large, powerful robot and much, much further off the ground than you would have liked. 

"I'll just clean it off you! Two birds, one tongue!" Random sang, already lifting his claws to cut away the stained clothes from your body. 

You hadn't seen his tongue before, but now you couldn't figure out how you didn't notice it. It was long and prehensile, thin at the tip and thicker towards the base as it snaked out of his mouth and onto the skin of your thigh. 

"Well, schatz?" Random offered with a salacious wink. "What do you say?"

You'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't find the mech attractive. Sure, he was crazy, and dangerous, and a total jerk sometimes, but you couldn't shake the feeling that he was somehow different from the rest of the Decepticons. You'd hoped his persistent presence was a sign that he tolerated you, even if only a bit. 

What could it hurt?

"Alright," you agreed. "Just, uh, be careful, please, Blitzy"

"Y/n! You wound me!" Random said sadly before he suddenly shifted your legs ever so slightly apart with a single thumb. "Don't worry, schatz. You'll make it up to me." He promised. 

You didn't have time to question that sentence as his tongue was suddenly licking a wet stripe up your the sides of your hip from your torso.

"Ah," Icy said. "I missed the taste of energon." His tongue was cold as it trailed up your abdomen, swirling across a wide smear of energon on your chest while you squealed at the sudden chill to your warm skin. 

"Stop moving or I'll drop you!" Hothead commanded. His warm tongue wrapped down across your thighs. 

The tongue has you licked clean in a matter of moments. 

Blitzwing appears no worse for wear as he smiles down at you.

You, meanwhile, are a mess. You're panting in his hands, feeling like you're about to fall apart under his unblinking optics. 

"Uh-oh," Random frowns in that sing-song voice of his. "Looks like I missed a spot!"

He reaches down, grabs the container, and pours the cool liquid across your hips. It slips between your thighs, flows into your spread-open pussy and runs freely down his palm. 

Random's tongue immediately laps at your slit, humming in pleasure at the taste of the energon as he slides it further inside you. He flicks his tongue up and down inside you, feeling for sensitive spots as he buries his face in your thighs. He lets the thin edge tangle and untangle against your walls. Then he just lightly glances against that spot, the one that makes you cry out in pleasure and squeeze around him and he attacks it without mercy. He holds you open effortlessly as he tongue-fucks you into his hand. You think you're begging, but you can't tell. You can't hear anything as you focus on the unrelenting pleasure against your g-spot.

And then you're cumming onto his tongue with a muffled cry, ineffectually pushing at his head as he pulls out to lap at your sensitive clit.

He takes much longer cleaning you up the second around. 

[talltalesandbedtimestories]

A View To A Winchester (Part 16)

Series Page

Summary: Julie’s starting a new life after divorce in a home with a very nice view.

A Dean X OFC story. I got this idea staring out the view of my home office window and thinking how nice it would be to have Dean Winchester to ogle.

Section Word Count: 3,200    

Section Content: fluff, flirting, angst, smut, R-rated language, oral sex

~~~~~

The drive back from Cas and Jack’s, after dropping them off, was quiet except for the airstream whipping past and into Baby’s cabin, and the Zeppelin soundtrack. Dean liked that Julie seemed fine just… being. And, just being with him. Not a ton of talk filling up the space between them.

After two weeks of being brushed off by Julie - dealing in her own way, which he respected, with the crazy shit she’d gone through - he felt anything but distant from her now. He’d come to terms with a lot during Julie’s unspoken restraining order. One, that this was turning into something greater than an infatuation. Another, Julie was not another hot chick of the week that he could save and reap sexy rewards and move on. This was not a throwback to his full-time hunting slash lothario days. Most important and scariest: he really wanted to keep her in his inner circle.

The question that kept resounding in his head. How? How would he do that, tell her everything, deal with the fallout? How does anything normal form after I show my hand? He could make love to this beautiful woman for days and days and enjoy every goddamn second of it. But, how could he really get close to her? And keep her safe? He realized how much he craved wanting to keep her safe. Story of my life.

Fuck it. Just making my head hurt with this round and round bullshit. She’s here. Now. His fingers crept over the front seat and wedged into the slit of crossed, warm, silky bare thighs. With a nonchalant motion, she angled more in his direction and allowed better access. A light smirk lined her lips as she stared out the passenger side window; the curve of her nose more prominent in the profile he glanced at again and again. He didn’t tease further, even though he wanted to dip his fingers into her folds; see if she was wet, soaked. He’d been dealing with a semi all fucking day, after all. She better be drenched. Only fair.

His palm pressed into her skin. Just inches away from that sweet snack. His tongue swirled in his mouth, remembering how tangy and sweet she tasted. How she bucked and twisted and ticked like a little time bomb. How gorgeous she looked when she came for him. He debated if he should pull off to the shoulder and eat her out again before they got home. Right in the front seat. He shook his head. No. That’ll lead to a fast and quick fuck. Way too quick. Dean shifted in his seat and caught Julie staring at him in confusion. “What are you arguing with yourself about?” She smiled.

Dean cleared his throat. “Nothin.”

By the time he was at his front door, working the lock open, he was amped and ready to pounce. It took every ounce of will power to rein in his need.

Her body leaned into his back. The warmth of her chin rested into the dip under his shoulder blades. “Getting tired, sweetheart?”

“Nope. Just like being close to you.”

He smiled, gaining entry. “So cheesy, it’s cute.”

“Yeah. You’re rubbing off on me.”

A flick of a nearby wall switch turned on the ceiling fan light in the living room. His eyes inventoried the space. Not the cleanest; but not the dirtiest it’s been, either. He spun and pulled her into the house by an arm and kicked the door closed. “I wanna rub all over you.”

Julie’s surprised and awakened eyes met his grin. She laughed. “Promise?”

His body pressed into the curves he wanted to memorize and ride all damn night. He nodded into a kiss that began on her lips, swept over her cheeks and trailed down the side of her neck. His fists curled into and tightened the t-shirt around her waist. “Italians do it better, huh?” He mumbled against her skin. ”We’ll see about that.”

A tight hitch of air caught in his throat at the feel of her fingers searching, finding, then fumbling with his belt buckle. His cock was inflating to fuck ready status in his jeans at an alarming rate, even for him. The strap loosened in an instant. Clinking of metal. A deft pull of leather through the denim loops, like a rip cord. Or a whip. The thought of Julie in a shiny black vinyl bustier swinging a riding crop made him bite his bottom lip.

His posture straightened. He dipped his chin to his chest to examine her thorough attentiveness with the task at hand. He didn’t relent his hold, pulling her even closer with clenched fists twisted in her t-shirt. The top of her lids and long lashes fluttered, staring at her own hands unbuttoning, unzipping. Quick inhales and exhales escaped her open mouth. He spied the tip of her tongue teasing that cupid’s bow. “Shit.” He moaned at the sight and feel of her fingers delving under the denim of his open fly, under the waistband of his boxer briefs, touching the heat and rigid state of his cock. She caressed and cupped his bulge, flicking her thumb over the head.

She tilted her face up to stare at him with those pretty brown eyes, tinted dark and heavy with lust. She rose up on tiptoes and kissed him. Her tongue tasted, investigated, matching the pace of her now stroking fingers.

His tongue swirled and danced with hers until she took a long languid suck. She pulled on the tip, held it hostage, then nibbled. The responsive muscle popped out of her mouth and he gasped. “Like having your way with me, sweetheart?” His chest heaved.

She grinned and nodded. “I wanna taste you.”

He gulped. “Bedroom’s this way.”

A shake of her head swung her ponytail. “Here. Can’t wait a second longer.” She kissed his lips one more time. The slide down his body was slow, meeting resistance from Dean who refused to release her t-shirt from his grasp. A sigh escaped from her lips. She pulled her hands out of his pants and lifted arms straight up. His eyes widened as she shimmied out of the shirt like it was a snake skin. The hypnotic display ended with her kneeled in front of him in a white cotton bra and those sweet jean shorts. The tops of her breasts stuffed into the cups rose and fell with her eagerness. His eyes lit up, glancing behind at the bare soles of her cute little feet. When the hell did she take off her sneakers and socks? She’s a little magician.

“That’s not gonna be comfortable on the hardwood, sweetheart.” He groaned at the pull of her fingers to get his jeans and underwear off. “Wait. Just a couple seconds longer.” He tossed her inside out t-shirt on one of the plaid couch cushions and strained to reach the blanket he always had over one of the armrests. He toed out of his sneakers and tossed the folded throw on the floor between them. His hands pulled her up by her armpits like a ragdoll. Long enough to nudge the blanket under her knees. “You’ll thank me later. Not as young as we used to be.” He grinned.

“You’ll thank me now.” She hummed and worked all of his bottom layers off in one quick peel to his thighs. His cock sprung out. She licked her lips at the sight and rocked back on her heels. “Of course, even this is pretty.” His grin dropped when her fingers slipped around the length and stroked, steady and slow. “Something this pretty shouldn’t have had to suffer all day.”

Damn. He rocked his head back. She’s good at this. “Longer than that.” He whispered.

“Hm?” He felt her rise up, using his cock as a handlebar. “What did you say?” Warm breath breezed over the tip. Her tongue flicked out to taste him. “Hm.” A satisfied moan. “What did you say, baby?” she repeated.

Shit. She’s using ‘baby’ now, too. He grit his teeth as the pace of her strokes picked up. He stared at the ceiling. “Been longer than a day.” The statement released from his throat with a struggle.

“How long has it been?” Another taste.

The words hiccupped out with each downward pump on his dick. He wouldn’t have been able to lie at that moment, even if he tried. “I haven’t… taken care of things… since that night we... were interrupted... by Cas.”

She stilled. “What?”

He sighed at the reprieve, still staring at the ceiling. “Lot going on, sweetheart. You were in the hospital and then when you got back home, things were… well, all that stuff you’ve been working through... I was too worried about you to jack off to naughty thoughts involving you.”

“Dean.” There was a hint of amazement in her voice.

God. I can feel her breath on my dick. Gonna cum on her face like it’s my goddamn first time if I can’t slow it down. Think about something else, anything else. Maybe I should paint the ceiling soon.

“That’s been over two weeks. Is that… normal for you?” Her fingers squeezed the base of his cock.

I can probably grab a couple gallons at the paint depot this week. He shrugged. “I’m pretty regular. Once a day. Sometimes more than that.”

“Have you been saving that all for me?”

I can hear the grin in her voice. Why the hell did I think abstaining was such a good idea again? “Did you think I was kidding earlier? When I said the next time I came it was going to be inside of you?”

Her lips pressed to the tip of his cock. “You didn’t specify where inside of me.” She moaned and without any warning sucked him into her mouth.

Dean hissed at the wet, pillowy texture of her beautiful mouth surrounding his pulsing, rock hard length. She took him in slow, humming in what sounded like gratitude to Dean’s ear. Her fingers wrapped and worked the stem. “Goddamn it, sweetheart.” He let out a low growl.

Her mouth and hands pulled back. “Dean. Look at me.” He groaned and dropped his head. Her lips were pink and full, eyes narrowed, palms resting on her thighs. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No.” He stroked her cheek. “Just, not as young as I used to be.”

“You’ve already said that.” She smiled and leaned into his fingers. “Neither am I. I think age provides some worthwhile experience.”

He sighed. “Oh, I agree. You’ve definitely got the experience part down.” Shit, that didn’t come out right. She didn’t seem to be paying his words much mind, with his cock in her face. “But, I let go now, don’t know how much good I’m going to be…” Her head tilted. She caught his thumb in her mouth, never breaking eye contact. One slow suck. “Damn.” Dean gulped.

“Do you want to let go?” She asked when she finished giving his digit attention.

He nodded.

“Then let go. One condition.” His cock twitched when her fingers held onto the base again. “You keep your eyes on me. And, I gotta hear that voice of yours, baby.”

He grinned as she moved closer to the tip, dripping with precum. “That’s two conditions.” He cradled the back of her head, fingers burrowing into her hair. “Lick my cock, sweetheart.”

She moaned, pressed her tongue to the tip, then swiped it over her lips. They glistened with his slick. Another long lick. “You’re going to cum so hard, aren’t you?” she asked in a low whisper.

There it is. That sexy as hell tone. “Yeah.” He grunted.

Pumping him now, using his excitement to lube him up, as she continued. “I’m gonna feel it, pulsing through this thick cock, right before you give me all of it.”

“Hm. Suck me, baby. I want to feel that nasty, sweet little mouth wrapped around me.” His fingertips dug into her scalp. She did what she was told. Lips slurped him down, mouth suctioned to his skin. The tongue swirled up at the tip before her mouth descended to swallow as much of his length as she could. Over and over. “Fuckin’ hell. That’s nice. Just like that. So fuckin’ good, baby.”

The moan in response vibrated into his cock. Her hands gripped his ass, using the leverage to push him into her mouth deeper. The position of her head and mouth maneuvered his cock like a lever. He could feel the tip hit the back of her throat. She gagged, took a second to regroup, then continued. When the tip eased down her throat the next time she swallowed in acceptance. Then again. Every damn time.

“Shit.” He groaned loud and pistoned his hips with her guidance. “Fucking your mouth feels so sweet. I can’t wait to fuck that pussy.”

More moans in agreement.

“I’m close, baby.”

Moaning.

“You ready?”

“Mm-hm.” One of Julie’s hands gripped the base.

“Fuck.” Dean moaned. His body tensed. All his energy shot straight to his cock. He felt his cum pulse through him, under her fingers. It spilled warm and thick into her mouth, wrapped tight around his tip. She moaned in surprise at the surge as it kept coming. She swallowed. Kept swallowing. His heart was ready to burst out of his chest. “Fuckin’ hell.” He shivered at the insistence of her mouth, licking him clean, as he came down from the high. “I gotta…” He crumpled to the floor in an awkward position, the waistband of his jeans clamping his thighs together.

Her hands cupped his jaw. “Okay?”

His breathing was ragged. “Yeah… yeah. I’m good. That was…” He smiled and leaned in for a kiss. He moaned at the little lick she gave him and tasted the salt and tang of his release. “Was that okay for you?”

She grinned. “God, yes. You looked so hot when you came in my mouth. I broke you for a second. It was heaven.” She laughed.

He raised a brow. “Yeah?”

She nodded. “Of course, you helped by refraining for so damn long. Don’t do that to yourself again…” She raised a brow back, “unless I tell you to.”

Damn, she’s such a cute little dominatrix. His forehead melded against hers. “Deal. Can we go to bed and maybe rest for a bit? Give me a chance to recharge?”

“Yeah.” She hopped to her feet. Dean licked his lips at the way her tits bounced in the bra. Two outstretched arms flung to his aid. “Come on, old man.”

He frowned. “You aren’t that far behind me, you know?”

She shrugged. “Not ahead of you being the key takeaway, here, Dean.”    

He waved off the assistance. “I’ve got it.” He huffed and rolled toward the couch, his back to her. The cushions supported his hands. He bent both knees under him in the still wrapped at the thighs state and catapulted up. Very smooth. I just full-out mooned her.

He worked his jeans and underwear back up his waist, but not quick enough before Julie was able to assess, “Gymnastics are impressive. You have a great ass, by the way.”

He chuckled and tossed a grin over his shoulder. “Thank you, sweetheart. You have great everythings.”

She blushed. After having gone down on and sucked him dry, she still blushed. His cock twitched. He walked to the kitchen and grabbed her a water.

“Bedroom’s this way.” He cocked his head to the small hallway. She took a sip and followed. He smiled at the fact she left her t-shirt on the couch. “If you need the bathroom,” he tapped on the door they passed to their left. A quick knob twist at the end of the hall opened the door to his bedroom. He snapped on a tiny table lamp and sat by the desk and cabinet his weapons were locked away in.

Her fingers tapped on the plastic bottle before placing it on the desk. She pulled out her phone and small wallet to rest beside it. “Pretty neat and tidy. Your army Dad teach you that?” She pointed to the sharp corners and tight sheet formation covering his bed. She pulled out the ponytail tie and dropped it on the desk, ran her fingers through the wavy mane to guide it behind her shoulders. Damn, she’s pretty. He licked his lips and watched the ends settle almost at the middle of her back.    

I really have told her a lot without telling her everything. His mind rushed back to the texts and calls they’d shared before the bad shit happened. And she remembers all of it. “It’s easy to keep things neat when you don’t have a lot.” He spread his legs, rubbing his thighs, trying to relax as the worry built. The hurried glances around the bedroom took stock of the scene. What might tip her off to the life he’d tried so hard to hide? He was always careful, at least he hoped, just in case.

Julie circled the room in her bare feet. The white bra shimmered in the barely lit space. Her hands burrowed into the shorts pockets. Shadows accentuated the curves of her bare skin. My own little Daisy Duke. He bit his lip, refraining from voicing the comment out loud. It might make her skittish and grab that forgotten t-shirt, and that was the last thing he wanted.

He watched her take in the sparse bits of the life he did put on display. There were the three tiny polaroids on the dresser, resting against a cigar box. The photos were worn, torn, tired, but had survived the long journey with him. One was his four year old self with mom wrapping him up in a tight hug. Another was of the Winchester family, John, Mary, Dean, and baby Sammy, in their front yard in Lawrence, Kansas. The last was of him and Sammy by the Impala almost two decades ago, when poltergeists, wendigos, and the occasional demonic possession had been the worst things they’d come across. Bobby had taken that picture.

There was the old 40s record player, one of the few things he’d been able to salvage from the Men of Letters bunker after the implosion. His small collection of classic rock albums housed upright in the shelf below it. An oil painting he’d found at a thrift store of a prairie field, reminding him of Kansas, hung over the simple wood headboard that he’d refinished himself. Her self directed tour stopped in front of him. Her fingers danced over the silver letter opener on the desk that did double duty as a supernatural weapon.

He tapped his lap and smiled up at her. She raised an eyebrow, an inner debate playing out on her face, then slid atop one of his thighs. An arm wrapped around the cool skin of her waist. “What do you think?” he asked.

Fingers rubbed the nape of his neck. “I think,” her brown eyes lingered on his smile, “I’d like to mess up that neatly made bed with you.”

He kissed her, nice and slow, eventually whispering, “Hop on in, little lady.”

Part 17

Series Page

[realm-sweet-realm]

Infinity, Chapter 2: Eternal

An AU where the 13 studio characters are immortal. In this chapter, Henry finds a way out of the timeloop, and Sammy Lawrence and Thomas Connor must enter the sketch dimmension to rescue the ink creatures!

---

After what felt to Henry like at least 24 hours, he dragged himself into the chamber to fight the ink demon, and realized just how stupid his plan was. Sure, sit there and wait, make sure Joey won’t be awake when I complete the loop. Well, now I have to fight the ink demon and I can barely keep my eyes open. This would be painful.

Henry played the tape in the throne room, as he had a million times before. The ink demon appeared before Henry and did its slow transformation. While he busied himself with that, Henry put in the end tape. “Wow, why did I never do that befo-”

-Henry was smacked through the wall and landed on his stomach, leaving him in the halls to begin the same runaround as always. Even having done this hundreds of times before, Henry was wracked with adrenaline as he obeyed his muscle memory to stick close to the walls, hide in nooks the demon couldn’t get to. He made no wrong turns in activating the switches. Next was getting the ink demon to run into the ink tubes, which posed no problem either. However, as Henry ran back to the throne room, Bendy grabbed onto Henry’s leg, lifted him towards his mouth, and sniffed at him at a bear. Henry knew he couldn’t die, but my God would this be unpleasant. Bendy decided that Henry was edible, crunched him up a little, and swallowed him.

The ink demon had no organs. He was just one inky mass inside. The ink demon settled down for a nap. Henry's lungs felt crushed, and the ink was entering the gashes left by the demon's teeth, but it wasn't getting worse. After a few minutes, Henry realized that if he didn’t do something, this would be his eternal state. And so, he pushed his arms through the thick ink and situated them where the ink demon’s arms were, so that he was almost wearing the beast like a puppet. With an immense amount of effort, Henry was able to get the beast to rise and turn back around the throne room. The beast growled and Henry felt vibrations all around him. It was fighting him, trying to move its ink in the opposite direction. Henry persisted. One lumbering arm-step, then another. The beast continued to whine and yowl. With no other way of knowing how close he was, Henry took that as a good sign. In the end, that flash of light came.

Now in Joey Drew’s apartment, Henry fell to his knees. The giant, ink-filled tooth-marks all over his body throbbed. But he’d done it. Right? Sure to be absolutely silent, Henry looked in the kitchen, and then checked Joey’s drawing desk to find that Joey had fallen asleep overtop of it. He found a phone and tapped in 911.

“Hello, this is 911, what is your emergency?”

“Hello. This is hard to explain, but my name is Henry Stein, and I am being held hostage at the residence of Joey Drew. Please send help. Please investigate the ink machine- the strange machine in his garage. He’ll try and make it look like everything’s normal, but- Please. Believe me.”

“We’ll be right over.”

Henry hung up and slumped to the floor, crying. Out of physical pain, relief, or worry that his gambit wouldn’t pay off he wasn’t sure. The portal to the sketch dimension was right near him, and he knew that his injuries were repaired at the beginning of each loop. But if he went in there, the dispatchers would have a harder time finding him. Henry mulled over where he should wait.

“What have you done?!” Joey roared, snapping Henry out of his thoughts. “Henry, go visit the old studio. There’s something I need to show you.” Joey had said it a million times before, but never so harshly. Like every time before, Henry got up, quite painstakingly this time, and entered the studio. The second the door closed, his injuries were gone as though they were never there.

Should I do another loop in case no help is on the way, or should wait here by the entrance so I'll be easier to find? Either way, it was future Henry’s problem. He found a desk to collapse on and quickly fell asleep.

---

It was four in the morning on August 12th, 1967 when Sammy received the last phone call he’d ever expected to.

“Hello?”

“Hello. This is the New York City police department. Is this Sammy Lawrence?”

Sammy’s eyes shot open in surprise. “Yes.”

“You need to come to New York City as soon as possible. This is not optional- we have heard from multiple people that you have information on the ink machine and the activities of Joey Drew. You aren’t in trouble yet, but if you refuse to comply, we will be forced to get national services involved. This is a matter life or death. Understood?” The policeman’s voice was friendly enough, but Sammy wasn’t foolish enough to think that his compliance would be all it took to keep him out of trouble. But what could he do?

“I’ll book a flight immediately,” Sammy said.

When he showed up at the police department, a number of other people out of uniform were there- Susie Campbell, Allison Pendle, Jack Fain, Norman Polk, and a few he didn’t recognize. One- Bertrum Piedmont- Sammy only recognized as one of the people that he and Joey had tried to murder back in the day. They all looked as young as ever.

“So, let me get this straight,” a tall, broad policeman said in a commanding voice, facing the group, and thus away from Sammy. “You each have the same story. You were knocked out somehow by Joey Drew, some of you when a man named Sammy Lawrence was around as well, and then you woke up outside the studio with large cuts on your throats. You all gave that description over the phone, without having had any opportunity to communicate on the matter. And you, Ms. Campbell, have the same story, but with a twist: you agreed to it. Is that all correct?” There was general agreement. The policeman turned to Sammy, looking almost apologetic.

“Mr. Lawrence, you see the situation we have here. And it will have to be dealt with in time. But for right now, you and Mr. Connor have been called by the S. W. A. T. to advise them on how to extract the, uh, people from super-dimensional thing in Mr. Drew’s kitchen. Best of luck. You’ll need it.”

An hour later, Sammy and Thomas were in the studio. Sammy had proposed this. He felt that this was the only way to keep the authorities from finding out about his murders. They’d been allowed to take some of the S. W. A. T. team’s equipment in with them, at least. Sammy had been given some instruction on how to wield the handgun that now hung at his belt, though he was hoping to rely solely on his knife. Thomas, on the other hand, looked much more comfortable with the massive gun he was holding.

“That gun is accurate, right?” Sammy asked, “if I run into a combat situation with my knife, you won’t hit me accidentally?”

“Combat?” Thomas snapped, “You said that the ink creatures would never hurt their creators. I thought there wasn’t going to be any combat!”

Sammy took in a deep breath. “That was a lie.”

Thomas was utterly shocked. “Then what the hell are we doing in here when we could’ve sent armed professionals?!”

“I didn’t want them to know about what I’ve done. Two days ago, that was all in the past, Thomas. I’d almost forgotten about it. I don’t want to have to live my life thinking about how I helped cause this. I just want to fix it so it’s over.”

“You want to forget you were a part of this, huh? Well join the club. The thing is, knowing about yourself can help keep you in line. Y’know, Allison used to talk about how her parents would have never approved of us because I’m not Presbyterian. Y’know what I did the second GENT sent me to my next client? Became a Presbyterian. Rules are good, Sammy. Rules can keep you in line. And forgiveness is also good, if you deserve it. You religious?”

“A little,” Sammy answered as they finally reached the staircase down. After hack-and-slashing their way through a horde of searchers, Sammy attempted to lead the way to Wally’s sanctuary. The studio’s layout had other ideas for them- Sammy could have sworn that the place was rearranged like a jigsaw puzzle with the pieces switched around. At last, they arrived. Sammy knocked on the door, and moments later it cracked open. Sammy had time to vaguely make out a peeking green eye before Henry threw the door open.

“People!” Henry exclaimed. “Oh my God, finally. Are you here to rescue me? Wait- Sammy…?”

Sammy nodded. “That’s right. We’re here to rescue you.”

Henry tackled Sammy with a hug. “Thank you!”

“We’re here for any ink creatures it would be safe to extract as well. Do you know where any of them are?”

“Well, I definitely know where one is.” Henry turned back into the safehouse and called Boris’ name. Boris came over like a dog who'd been asked to come. Henry gave him a little pat on the head, which he leaned into, smiling. That was how Henry knew that Boris was dominant- when Buddy was dominant, he reacted more adversely to being pet like a dog. "This is Boris. Sammy, you know how these things are made, don't you?"

"We both do," Thomas answered, ashamed. "Who's his soul?"

"A boy named Daniel Lewek. He doesn't remember it very often, but he wrote out his story while he was dominant. We should bring that out, too," Henry headed back in to grab the book. Meanwhile, Boris offered his hand to Sammy and Thomas.

"You in there, Daniel?" Thomas asked. Boris looked confused. "No? That's okay. We'll find a way to get you out again. You'll see."

Once the group was back together, they headed for the exit. Henry came into the apartment through the closet door, saw it filled with military personnel, and fell down onto his hands and knees. "I'm gonna live. I'm gonna go home, and see my family again, and everything. Oh." Henry suddenly realized that he was forgetting one creature: Boris. "And Boris can come with me. Henry pet Boris again, and he liked it. "You're gonna love the real world."

"Henry," Thomas interjected, "I'm not sure that's a good idea. You said you have a family, didn't you? Well, you already disappeared for almost four years, so I really don't think you should shock them more by bringing home something that doesn't even belong in this world. I have no family and even knew Buddy a little. I'll take him."

"After we get the other ink creatures, right?" Sammy said.

"Of course," Thomas replied, and they set to talking.

Henry was silent for a moment, reflective. “I can take Boris after Linda dies. I'm not going to die. Neither are you, Sammy. Or Joey. We're immortal. How do we figure out who else there is? Who are immortal, I mean."

Sammy and Thomas stared at him. "Well, the others at the police station are a good start at least," Sammy said. "That must have been why they didn't die when Joey and I were trying to sacrifice them." Sammy turned back to Thomas. "Anyhow. You can definitely have Boris, but I want to adopt one of these ink creatures, too. I feel responsible."

"Oh, no you aren't," one of the police in the room interjected, "You just upgraded your seven felony assault charges to seven attempted murders. The second you've rescued all the sentient beings from that hell dimension, you're going into a holding cell. I can hope you can assuage your guilt from in there."

Henry gave his old friend a pained look. "Sorry about this, Sammy."

Sammy sighed. "Well, all will pass, right? Since we're eternal. At least, let me answer questions on how the machine works. Maybe we can make separate bodies for the human halves and the cartoon halves."

“I’m out of the loop and don’t know what you’re talking about,” the policeman said, “and anyhow, it’s not for me to decide. But that might be doable. We’ll have to see.”

[chisie12]

Gency Week Day 5: Hyssops/Sacrifice

Day 5: The Dinner, part 2 AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19071907/chapters/45815473

She was not sure what she should have felt. Happiness? From his worry and care? Guilt from just the damned situation alone? Something was lodged in her throat, hard and suffocating, but it wasn’t from the damp handkerchief. It was cool to the touch as she held it over her nose and mouth, completely covering them but still with a little of space to actually breathe. Her head was bent from having to crouch and she inched closer towards the centre support, leaning against it to rest her fatigued muscles.

She stared at Jack’s silhouette that was roughly outlined against the cloth. She heard him call out, “What’re your statuses, team?” A moment later, he followed up with, “Then commence operations. We have a hostage situation in the hall. And get the entire building on lockdown!”

Team? Angela creased her eyebrows together. Did they already know it was a trap?  

As Jack left, she was left alone with the sounds of screaming and things breaking echoing in the little bubble of her space, and for the first time since she found out part of the truth, she felt no fear. Not a single shred of fear or panic, no worry or anxiety, just an eerie calm that stared at the face of danger head on. At the speed the fog was filling the hall, she guessed that it would take at least thirty minutes for it to fully fill the hall.

It wasn’t as if she trusted Jack fully, that his words meant all the weight they could carry, no. It was the logic telling her that her position right now was the most optimal. With the lack of a weapon and intelligence the true Doctor Ziegler would have, her tiny bubble underneath the table was for right now, truly the safest. And if her assumptions were right, Overwatch was already stationed and prepared.

 ~*~*~

 “What’re your statuses, team?” A deep familiar voice called out over the communication earpiece.

Lifting my hand to activate the microphone, I replied, “I’m in position, commander.”

If Commander Jack ignored the bite in my words or simply ignored them, I couldn’t care less. I remained in my crouch in the alleyway opposite the majestic hotel, awaiting for his next order. The night's chill breathed onto my cybernetic body, trying to creep their way into my skin, but nothing would have been colder than my heart at this stage. The frost encircled the beating organ, using its icy chill to push away any signs of warmth, to forget the happiness she gave me, the smiles and laughter, and especially her tender touches. I palmed the brick wall whose shadow hide my form, fingers digging harshly into it when a surge of anger flared.

No need to be angry. No point in being angry. I'm not needed. I'm not wanted. I'm not loved.

Not anymore.

She has someone new. He fit her better than I ever would. The perfect couple. Beautiful and —ugh— handsome, definitely the perfect pairing.

Not like the beauty and the beast.  

The chorus of “I'm in position” from my teammates drifted in an ear and out the other. I gazed at the building, eyes drooping behind the visor as the grand view struck my mind, leading on a daydream about bringing her to the private table covered by bamboo separators and potted trees and then dining exquisitely. Buying her the best Swiss chocolates I could get my hands on, tease her, make her smile, and who’d know, maybe I would get the courage to ask her out – again.

My surroundings were fuzzy, words flew over my head while the anger subsided into the shadows. It wasn’t until Jack’s clear authoritative voice called: “Then commence operations. We have hostages in the hall. And get the entire building on lockdown!”

Reflexively, I dashed towards the building, through the alleys and shadows, and nimbly scaled up the walls in record time. A few other silhouettes made their moves too, bursting into the hotel and commencing the lockdown. Terrified screams came out muffled through the walls as I quickly ascended onto the higher floors. As the rest of the team secured the lower floors, I infiltrated through a window of the empty toilet on the fourth floor. Ensuring that I was alone, I dashed out and was met with a soulless hallway. The grip on my katana strapped to my back tightened warily. From afar, I could hear the team easily securing the floor below as I stepped across the empty hall way. Diamond Hall was to my left and the Platinum Hall to my right, and while the former was screaming and crying in absolute terror, the Platinum Hall was silent, just as quiet as a grave. Not a single waiter or waitress was in sight, and no strays of a customer walked around.

Odd. This was way too odd.

Odd beyond the fact that there was no sound either. Not one scream, much less a chatter. Anywhere. There was only the soft thuds of my feet against the carpeted floor and the slight squeak of my body. I winced. Pausing in my steps, I stretched my arms and tried to loosen the tightness that wound up. How long could I last in this situation? Shaking my head, I sneaked my way towards the Platinum Hall.

I stood guarded around the corner, ears and eyes peeled for any signs, but there was nothing.

Except for the smallest whiff of a disgusting stench that started to seep through the cracks of the door. It was pungent yet sickly sweet, and it brought about a sense of dread in me. Step by step, carefully and alert, I inched my way towards the large double doors, when all movements halted abruptly. From the cold tendrils curling beneath the door, I saw the milky white fog already seeping through. I stepped back. Under the light, just at the right angle, I caught sight of the green tint in the clouds. Pursing my lips, I relayed to the team: “We have a situation. Casualties unknown but it’s the same Corpse Poison. Platinum Hall, next to target location.”

“Shit. Fuck,” Jack swore. There was a brief sound of winds whistling before his voice came back. “Prioritise Diamond Hall. We need to save the hostages first!”

“Yes, commander.”

Jack’s voice sounded different, as if underlying that strict tone was worry and anxiety swimming just under the surface. He has never shown that kind of care for the hostages before. So, why now?

And it didn't take two seconds for it to click. The invitation. The dinner.

Angela.

Standing against the double doors to the Diamond Hall’s, I pushed. But it didn’t even budge. Glancing down, I heaved a mental sigh of relief at the absence of wispy tendrils waving mockingly at me. Rushed footsteps padded behind me but my attention was solely on the target. The doors made of heavy wood and most definitely blocked. Gripping onto my katana, I urged at the Shimada blood in me to rise, causing a surge of power to channel through my veins and into the slightly unsheathed blade. A sharp green aura flickered around it and a draconic aura flourished in the deathly still hall as what sounded like a dragon’s roar vibrated.

“Ryūjin no ken wo kurae!”

No time to think of another solution, just utter simple brute force as his incoming teammates arrived at the fourth floor to see a translucent green dragon slamming into the doors with a great force with my blade slicing through the wood like a knife to a butter. Splinters from the dragon’s attack flew past my face as I rushed in, immediately catching sight of the bodyguards that stood by the doors. They raised their guns and with lightning quick reflexes, I brought the still shining blade before my face, easily deflecting the bullets away with a few honed swipes. The bullets lodged themselves into the walls behind them, a few accurately hitting the men. With my heel planted into the floor, my calves brimming with strength, I pushed off hard and fast towards the nearest bodyguard, slashing the katana across his neck with one quick slash before darting forward once more towards the second bodyguard. He didn’t even have the time to blink when the swing of my blade found itself across his neck. The arterial spray washed the entrance a crimson red like a fountain of death and I ignored the terror of the humans in the hall, frozen and stock still as though they’d seen a ghost while dashing across the long centre, towards the blond man engaged with a man in silver.

Commander.

The trace of pain upon sighting Jack quickly disappeared. Trust? Loyalty? I had no time spare for those thoughts. Responsibilities pressed against my wishes, duty battered my rationale, and logic overpowered my anxiety. Where was she? I couldn’t see her, not from scanning the hall. I couldn’t hear her, not even a single breath. I vaguely recalled some of my teammates rushing in from behind, half assisting the hostages in their escape and the other half incapacitated the charging waiters and waitresses as I rushed forward to assist the commander. Commander.

I wouldn’t admit it but even his name left a bad aftertaste in my mouth.

Vaulting over a waiter, I sliced at his torso with a quick swipe of my wakizashi in mid-somersault and jumped off the moment my toes touched the floor. A hand stretched out, palming the face of a waitress that was charging at me with a battle cry and she scrambled to attack my hand, desperately clawing at them with her nails, but my fingers maintained their steel grip on her silver mask. I jumped, the muscles in my stomach tensing and I lithely lifted myself up and over her head. Fingers on the mask loosened, twisting around with my body and I kneed the base of her skull. After sending her flying, I spun to my right, unsheathing my wakizashi and slicing at the hand aiming for my throat, the knife dropping onto the floor as the man yowled in agony. Easily darting through the enemies, disposing some and incapacitating some, I left behind a trail of blood in my wake as I finally got to the stage.

The silver masked man glanced over my way and a crazed laughter bubbled from his chest as he leapt back to avoid Jack’s straight punch. Shurikens flew with the flick of my wrist, but the man easily ducked and rolled away, the sharp corners digging into the stage. When he saw the Overwatch team members trying to control the area, he laughed once more. His black eyes glazed over, a tint of insanity shining through as he grinned at them.

“You can try! Run! Run all you want! But all of you will die here with me!”

I landed a distance away from Jack, three shurikens ready between my fingers. Jack craned his head back just the slightest, giving me a look, I didn’t dare analyse. “Genji.”

“Commander,” I curtly replied before gesturing at the mad man with my chin.

Understanding my silent question, Jack heaved a sigh before deftly reloading his handgun and returned his gaze onto the enemy. “Head of the underground drug ring, Slade Voltair, am I right?” The last question was directed at the laughing man before them.

Slade dramatically tilted his head back with the back of his palm against his forehead. “Oh my, you’ve found out my identity. What ever shall I do?” His droopy eyes sharpened as he glared at them from the corner. “Fucking kill you all, that’s what.”

“It’s too late. By now, we’ve already evacuated the whole building,” Jack argued.

Slade bent his body forward, back set into a hunch as he dismissively waved his hand. “Hahaha, really?”

Jack twitched at the smile, his fingers itching to squeeze the jaws and wipe that mockery off his face. He wanted to defend his statement, to argue that he was right, when a voice spoke over the communicator.

“Commander. The whole hotel’s on lockdown. We can’t leave,” Tracer said. “I’ve tried every evacuation route. We’re stuck.”

Jack cursed for the third time that night. Slade burst into ecstasy as he watched the commander’s face twist. “Evacuated the whole building? Haha! An absolute joke.”

My eyes swept across the now empty hallway, opting to find a way out of this instead of listening to their argument, and watching the wispy fog slowly drift downwards like the deathly cloud that it was. The place was already half filled with it and I wasn’t sure if I was feeling glad or dread at not seeing Angela anywhere. The fog had to be coming from somewhere, a main source that fuelled the air conditioning. The vents; this was used as a means of transport. So, perhaps the main unit? If I could find that source and the unit, destroy the connection then perhaps that would give us more time to find a new evacuation route.

I looked up at the air-conditioner, staring at the square vent that the fog was coming in from, trailing across the ceiling to try and mentally map out the system.

“Don’t think you can try and find the source, ninja boy,” came Slade condescending tone, catching my attention. He now stood straight with his weight leaning on a foot and arms crossed over his chest. That silver mask still laid atop his face, giving off a clear contrast to his dark eyes that unrestrainedly showed his disdain. “In about…” He counted off his fingers, “…twenty minutes, the entire hotel would be filled with the poison. And none of you will ever be able to esca – Oh, whoa there! You might hit somebody with that thing.” Slade tilted his body to the side as shurikens flew past his body.

Jack immediately followed up with a few gunshots of his own and he closed in onto Slade in an attempt to reduce the distance. By now the fog was a few heads above us, the hissing unnaturally loud and contemptuous. I was about to rush towards Slade with another attack when Jack stopped me with an outstretched arm.

“Look for the source. I’ll deal with him.”

With a nod, I darted out of the hall.

Jack watched Genji’s back disappear through the busted doors with hidden hopes restrained in his eyes. Please succeed, he prayed. For Angela’s sake.

“Oh my, you’re not asking him to bring the woman out? I’m sure being outside is a lot better than being under the table,” Slade taunted, his hand sneaking into his pocket, but it didn’t escape Jack’s eagle eyes.

With a quick aim, he instantly fired off a shot, forcing Slade to jump back and remove his hand from the pocket. Tutting, the man wagged his finger at Jack in a chiding manner. “All you people are going to hurt someone like this. So bloodthirsty.” Ignoring him, Jack quickly closed into Slade who tutted once more. “Really impatient, Jack. What shall I ever do with you?”

Of course, he wouldn’t be fazed at the other man knowing his name, but the annoyance boiled deep in his system, as hot as lava. If only they hadn’t received the invitation, then she wouldn’t be in the middle of danger. She hadn’t known a single thing, innocent like a child, oblivious to the evils that came together with her identity, at the true identity forgotten and fragmented in her exceptionally brilliant mind. He miscalculated this time, having chosen to trust her in trusting him with everything – ever since she lost her memory that is – and he had to pay for it now. Just because she never mentioned the invitation never meant that she never received it.

It was all his fault and his to blame.

But he couldn’t help but apportion the blame onto Slade as well. For if Slade never sent out that invitation, this wouldn’t have happened. For if Slade never sent out that invitation, the bond between him and her wouldn’t have tensed, and he knew, just knew that it was on the verge of snapping.

Yet, the guilt was an anchor around his neck, weighing him deep into the brine. He didn’t know that his actions had claws that sunk into her neck, pulling her down together with him into the abyss, subtly whispering intentions that swayed her mind, pushing her further into a corner; She needed him, his protection, and he was the only one there for her.

‘I’m always going to be here for you. Trust me.’

But now, all he could think of was: I’m sorry.

As he battled it out with Slade, his eyes glanced over towards the doors, where Genji last left, sending a silent prayer into the Heavens – if they existed – and for once since the whole ordeal began roughly four months ago, he chose to rely on his teammate.

‘Please, Genji. She needs you.’

There was a lot of things that Jack wished he had said. Regret washed his every bone, weighing him down like a heavy boulder sitting on his shoulders. He decided he would tell. If he lived past tonight.

Oblivious to the turmoil wreaking havoc within Jack, I had already run down the emergency staircase, evidently faster and more efficient than any other means now. The hotel’s blueprint drifted into my mind and I mentally searched for the main plant room of the air conditioning systems, going on a whim of understanding that this hotel was centrally controlled by one system, instead of an individual control, and with that that I should head towards the central room to shut it off, thus hopefully halting the flow of the poison. As I burst through the emergency door, I was met with a sea of people huddled together, some screamed in fear as they tried to break open the reinforced hotel doors; Nothing could break in, or out. No one paid attention to the weird guy in a cyborg suit as I snuck my way into the plant room further down behind the lobby, nearer to the back of the hotel. I reached out to open the door, but it refused to move. Confused, I tried to apply force and yet it didn’t budge.

Fires of fury and hatred were smouldering in my narrowed eyes. I got no time for this! Metal screeched under the blow of my wakizashi as I tore it apart in a fit of rage and forcefully kicked it open, but it was in that furious haze that I missed the gunshots that were now embedded in my torso. Disgruntled and staggering back, I glared at the men holed up in the plant room behind my visor, a hand hovering over the broken parts and blood that seeped out from the cracks.

“Fuck! He’s still standing!”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Hunched over with heavy breaths, I summoned all the willpower to calm my raging heart as I fought to deflect the storm of bullets coming my way. But her face kept appearing in my mind, frightened and alone, confused to everything that was happening.

‘But she’s Angela! She’ll be fine!’ Was what I kept telling myself, but when you love someone, it’s hard to not worry.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

I reflexively dodged to the side at the bullets shot from behind and threw out a few shurikens at my new enemy, when the man cried out in alarm. He ducked to the side at the first instance my arm moved, causing the flying projectiles to miss and lodge themselves at the wall behind him.

“Whoa! Genji! It’s me!”

I ignored the familiar southern drawl as my mind spun with incoherent thoughts. Fast, I just got to go faster, hurry up and get this done. The quicker, the better. Then she’ll be safe. Safer. Everything became a blinding mess of green and red as I made quick work of the men in the plant room. Blood and gore splattered across the large compressor and condenser, and I felt the chill of the place crawling under my skin. Indistinctively, I knew someone was calling my name, but I couldn’t register who it was. All I could see was red. Fury at Slade and his men for putting Angela in danger, fury at them for ever having lived and causing me to miss out on my chance four months ago, fury at them for causing me to lose her. All the missed memories I could have made with her, the laughter and smiles I could have seen, the kirsch in the coffee that only I could take during late night adventures.

I felt something wet and warm upon my cheeks, but I kept on massacring as more men came, having seemingly found where most of them hide. Probably from knowing that the most dangerous spot was sometimes the safest. They appeared from the other end of the room, coming in waves with their masks and suits. Distantly, I heard gunshots that were shot from behind, but my body instinctively left it be, oddly knowing that the sharpshooter was an ally. There was also the fast zipping of something blue before my eyes, but my shurikens weren’t quick enough to keep pace, but I kept trying. Even when my body was screaming in pain, even when my movements slowed. I kept going.

It wasn’t until I missed my strike and staggered in my steps that I paused, staring at the pile of corpses that lay by my feet in a dark worship. My muscles terribly ached and my body was extremely bloodied, the heavy pants coming out in foggy puffs.

“Hey, man. Are you alright?”

I slowly turned my head towards the sound of the voice, an inch by an inch, and the sight of Jesse McCree’s worried countenance filled my glazed vision. Why did he look so blurry?

Warm drops were still on my face when I stared at him and I removed my mask. With the heel of my palm, I wiped the blood away, but all it did was dilute the blood that was already staining my hand. I stared at it in perplexity as more trickled down my cheeks. A stifled sob tried to escape and the dam broke when I heard a heavy step taken towards me. My head shot up to stare at Jesse who watched in agony at the tears that streaming down, weaving and falling against the pale white scars.

Jesse, at that point, couldn’t comprehend why the tears, but he, as well as Lena, had known that for the past four months, Genji…  He’s allowed the hope he carried to slip between his fingers, no longer bound, as his soul crumbled. They didn’t understand how or why Angela would have disappeared without a trace, leaving not a word or a note, and that had taken its toll upon their young friend. But when they stumbled into her at Mercy’s Apothecary (they should have known, with that name), it was as if that hope was rekindled and Genji looked forward to things in life again. He was smiling more, joking more. She was the catalyst to the good things in his life, but at the same time, she was his doom. He’d gone cold inside to escape the pain of abandonment, and the isolation in the bureau hadn’t been easy on him either. They tried to help, to cheer him up, but Genji’s empathy withered and died, numbing his feelings, a total mental anaesthesia.

Jesse took another step forward, holstering his Peacekeeper as he lifted his arms.

My gaze was drawn to the moisture dripping onto my palms, creating a small puddle that overflowed and trickled down my arms. My body was vibrating, from the sobs or the shivers from the chill – I wasn’t sure. And I couldn’t bear move, to wring my hands and fling the pooled tears away – were they really my tears?

I was suddenly pulled into a warm embrace, strong muscles encircling my smaller frame as his beard tickled my bare cheek. “I’m sorry,” came Jesse’s gruff voice. I’m sorry that you’re feeling like this. Sorry that you’re in so much pain and I can’t do anything to help. I’m just so sorry.

The sobs wrecked my body in larger waves and the tears fell harder as I crumbled into his embrace, allowing myself the shortest of reprieves amid this chaos. Just why? Why did this have to happen? I wasn’t allowed to do what I wanted in the Shimada clan. Couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t be himself – but I wanted to do what I wanted. Even if they despised it, even if they looked down on me. So, I played around, became the perfect, charismatic young man that no women could resist, clubbed and drank without a care in the world, and what do I get from it?

A scarred body from the feud with my older brother.

I had forgiven him though, having been with Zenyatta and learning to come to peace with my cyborg self.

Then when I pined for her, craved and ached for her comfort and smiles, to the point I gathered my courage to formally ask her out, she disappeared. As if she had wanted to escape the harbinger of bad luck that I seemed to be – at least with the wishes that I had. Oh, God. I was just so tired. So, so tired. I really wished I could just give up, give up and forget everything. Perhaps find Zen again. Live like a hermit. That really sounded so good. For now.

“That doesn’t sound good at all, love,” came yet another familiar voice from behind. There was a gentle pat on my back. I fought back the chokes and sobs as I removed my head to look at Lena, large round eyes drooped in worry and care. With another pat on my back, I felt Jesse release his hold on me as Lena cradled my head to her shoulder, cooing as I cried harder into her embrace. Soft touches combed my hair, pats reminding me so much of Angela’s, of when she combed my hair with her fingers, but instead of bringing tranquillity, it brought on another onslaught of tears as I cried for what was lost – and what could have been.

And that’s when I remembered about the mission tonight. This was no time to be crying and sobbing my heart out.

“Yes, yes, it is, Genji,” Jesse chided.

Had I said that out loud?

“Yes, love,” Lena echoed this time. “And I’ve already shut down the main controls. They should be fine now. We just have to find a way out.”

“We probably just have to get the hotel off lockdown.” Jesse chimed in thoughtfully.

I rubbed at my cheeks as they discussed, feeling a lot lighter than I had been in the past few weeks. I breathed in the cold air, feeling the chill wake me up from within. “Then I’ll rendezvous with Jack. The hotel controls should be by the main lobby outside.”

They beamed at me and I returned one back, albeit twitchy and not as smiley, but one nonetheless before putting my mask back on. It wasn’t long after that I returned to the Diamond Hall. There were loud crashing and the floors shook, as though an earthquake was hitting. Paying it no heed, I continued, but it was on my way there that my blood froze and a chilliness unlike the cold air conditioning sweep past my veins.

I had heard a scream from inside the hall, sheer fear having taken the place of confusion at the next words.

“LET ME GO!”

But it was the familiarity of that voice, the sweet voice that would accompany my dinners and my nights, the mellifluous tone bringing me warmth and smiles. And it was her that screamed.

“Angela!”

I dashed into the hall as fast as I could, ignoring the searing pain in my ankle at the misstep that I took. The room was already nearly filled with the fog despite having the main controls switched off. Through the white clouds, there beneath the stage, I saw Slade gripping onto the arm of a blonde woman who wore a golden angel winged mask and Jack groaning as he tried to stand up. He was beaten black and blue, mask fallen, and lip bloodied. Since when did the commander become that shitty in a fight?

But my attention was quickly drawn back to the struggling blonde woman as I helped Jack back to his feet. Her hand was covering her mouth in an attempt to reduce the amount of fog she’d breathe in. If memory served me right, there should have been no one else in the hall; They should have all been evacuated. My gaze floated over to the toppled table behind them and the fallen handkerchief on the floor, when it clicked.

“You – fucking! Let me go, ahh!”

And her voice came again as reality crashed down like a tidal wave. No wonder Jack was extra worried for the hostages. No wonder he had wanted me to turn the main source off.

It was all because she was here, hiding in the hall.

And he never said a word to me.

A growl erupted from my throat as I dug my fingers into Jack’s arm, the anger reigniting in me once more. What the fuck was this man’s problem and informing me of things? My vice-like grip tightened with each passing second, but Jack never retaliated, never argued. Only hung his head in shame.

“Why!” I howled, throwing the man back onto the ground as emotions got the better of me. “Just fucking why!”

Slade chuckled darkly upon watching the scene. “Ooh, infighting? This looks fun. Do go on.”

“You fucker!” I roared at him. It was because of him too! Because of him that Angela invited herself to danger, Angela who had not remembered a thing! Without sparing a glance at the moaning man, I dashed towards Slade, arm pulled back with my fist at ready. Slade tilted left, but I immediately spun around and landed a carefully aimed back spinning kick to his head. My foot barely whizzed past Angela’s head as my foot landed hard upon the silver mask, forcing him to release his hold on her arm. Ignoring the shock of pain that shot up my leg, while Slade was falling to the ground, my body fully completed its spin as I quickly followed up with a jump kick using my other leg, the flat of my foot shooting up and slamming him straight in his face, sending him flying towards the stage. I lightly landed on the floor, gingerly holding onto Angela’s arm with a hand as I did and ignored the man that crashed onto the stage.

I felt pained seeing her dishevelled state. Her hair was in disarray and her cheeks pale. “Angela?” I hated how small my voice sounded, how weak it was.

But I felt her hand on my mask and I instinctively snuggled closer to her warmth. That single touched effortlessly washed away all the aches in my body and I held my bloodied hand up to hold hers, when I paused. I didn’t want to sully her.

“Genji,” her voice called to me softly, snapping me back to reality. My bloodied hand felt warm in hers and I choked back on the sobs I thought were long over. She watched me sadly through the mask before settling my hand on her hip, the red palmprint a stark contrast against her white dress, and… she leaned in. Her arms encircled my waist, freezing me into place.

Her face was buried in my chest, uncaring of all the blood I had on me nor the men I had thrown on the ground (wasn’t one her lover?). I was confused, yet pleasantly shocked. I had decided before to give up on her, to leave with the good memories I had. I thought I was going to do alright by my choice, until I heard my name fall from her alluring lips again.

“Genji…”

My arms slowly wound their way around her waist, taking in her gentle demeaner and beautiful appearance. Leaning down, I breathed in her scent, feeling intoxicated immediately. But then, I crashed back into reality when I took another, smelling the poison now so familiar to me mixed with her scent. In a panic, I quickly removed my mask and placed it over hers. It wouldn’t fit, but the filter in the mask would help. It didn’t seem that she had breathed in the fog for a long time, seeing as there were no warts or pus seeping from her unblemished skin. She hadn’t bled from her any of her orifices or had her skin rotting. “Go, quickly. To the entrance. Jesse and Tracer – Lena – are going to find a way out!” I urged her towards the door, but she kept her grip on my waist, never letting go even when I fitted the mask on her.

“Why weren’t we dating?”

“Huh?” I was caught off guard at her question.

“Us. We were in love. Why weren’t we dating?” She asked again, voice slightly muffled from the mask.

“You were in love with me?” I questioned back, question marks filling my mind. “Didn’t you love Jack?”

She shook her head. “No. The old me, my memories. I remembered some.”

“Wait, you mean –”

“I loved you, you idiot. Why did you never ask me out?”

“B-But – What? Wait, this isn’t the time for that! Quickly, get outta here!”

“No! I’m not leaving without an answer.”

“Now is not the time for your stubbornness, Angela. Please, get out of here.”

We squabbled back and forth, more panic on my end and stubbornness on hers. She tried to return me my mask, but I easily overpowered her with my strength and kept the mask there. With a bitter smile, I leaned it, breath kissing my mask as I gazed into her eyes through the visor. “I’m not at all human, Angela. The poison won’t kill me.” That fast, I didn’t add. Seeing her mouth opening for another argument, I hurriedly added, “I’ll buy you dinner when this is over!”

She was startled, the words somehow striking her as familiar. And I hoped it did. Those were the exact same words she told me when we were chasing Maximilien back in the Overwatch days. That was the exact moment that sparked our dinner adventures, even if they were mostly in her office.

Angela stared into his eyes, searching for a sign, just of anything that he was going to let her go again, but she’ll be damned if she let that happened. Seeing that nothing was wrong, she finally agreed.

“Get Jack out of here too.”

As Angela lifted the unconscious commander by the arm and slung it over her shoulder, there was panicked shout and a crack of thunder before a force pushed her down.

“You’re not fucking leaving this place,” Slade sneered, the blood dripping from his head making him a lot more menacing with a gun held pointed towards them.

A sharp pain attacked her head as her head slammed onto the side of a table. Unwillingly, she felt her mind go black as it slipped unconscious. Her body slumped into a heap above Jack’s. I watched it happen before my eyes as the anger surged once more from the pit of my stomach. Standing up, I turned around, scarred face bare and katana in my grip as I glared at Slade. I felt the same power coursing in my blood as I tried to rouse the sleeping dragon. Everything was hurting, pain zipping through my body as I fought to maintain my focus. One last shot. One last strike. That’s all it was going to take. One move to end it all.

“You will pay for what you’ve done,” I snarled.

Slade was taken aback at the red gleam in my eyes. He quickly collected all his fury, his wits as he pointed the gun at me. “Try me,” he glared back.

“Ryūjin –”

A muffled shot popped through the hall, the sound unnaturally loud during the standoff. All I caught was the sight of a cylindrical dart zipping through the air and hitting Slade square in the cheek. My anger sizzled away at the confusion and I turned back to stare at Ana who stood by the doors with her sniper rifle at the ready. The green aura around my blade died away as I sheathed it.

“Ana, what –”

“Grab them and let’s go,” she said with no room for arguments.

I blinked when a tall muscular man stepped out from behind the corner with his enormous hammer perched on his shoulder. Reinhardt smiled at me and waved a tiny wave. “Genji! We’ve gotten an escape route. Let’s go.”

Coming back to my senses, I dashed back and picked up the knocked-unconscious Slade while Reinhardt easily picked up both Angela and Jack. As we made our way down, I noticed the now empty hotel with the hostages all escaped. It wouldn’t hurt to say I also noticed a large gaping hole by the glass doors of the entrance. Web-like cracks crept along the ground in the direction of said hole and I felt my lips twitch. What happened to switching off the lockdown of the hotel?

As though reading my mind, Reinhardt chortled a belly full of mirth. “The controls were rigged. This was faster. It only took some time.”

And that was how the mission ended. We found out after that the Diamond Hall was reeking and littered with corpses from an event that had begun slightly earlier than the Overwatch celebratory dinner.

I’ve also heard that they found out Slade’s full background history, but I had not have the time or energy to spare for that. Because now I stood, before Commander Jack Morrison’s hospital bed solemnly.

I had felt it, the deterioration of my body. The dead parts of it were slowly dying away and I had no one to help fix me up. I’ve asked Lena if she could contact Winston, but her frown and shake of her head had told me everything. I wistfully thought of Angela, a bitter smile breaking on my face, but that was simply that: Wistful thinking.

And it was with that, that I bowed ninety degrees towards my commander. “I accept any punishment that you’ll give me.” For hurting you, for going against you. And I silently prayed that he’d take care of Angela when I left, for I planned to leave without notice. I ignored the searing pains in my body, the stabs hurting from within. My blood was boiling, my body was overheating.

Jack groaned as he slowly sat up on the bed. The hospital door was locked, leaving only us and the empty vase by his bedside. He looked over at the bowing agent and a tired sigh echoed in the four walls. “I’m not going to punish you.”

“But, commander – ”

“Just leave, Genji.”

I took my bottom lip in with my teeth, unease settling in. I tried to reason it out with him again, but he had cut me off once more, yelling at me to leave. He said no more than that; For me to leave. And leave I did. With one last final bow, I left wordlessly.

Seeing Genji leave and the door clicked shut behind him, Jack buried his face in his hands. He wanted to so badly, at that moment, to tell Genji the truth of everything, but he couldn’t bear to. It would have hurt; hurt Genji, hurt Angela, and hurt himself.

Let him hurt alone. Let him bear the burdens and pain alone, even if he would become their enemy. Because after all, ignorance is a bliss, wasn’t it?

[sparda3g]

One Piece Chapter 917 Short Review

I thought this was a pretty enjoyable chapter. After a week break, I always expect satisfaction with the way how it was building up with Luffy and Holdem. Needless to say, it was worth it. Bonus, it also built an intriguing match-up that shows more glimpse of what this arc truly capable of.

The compare/contrast in the beginning between two towns left me a sour taste. The difference is obvious, but it elaborates further how corrupted the system is in the country. Okobore Town continue to suffer slowly with some give in to drink poisonous water. Then you have Bakura Town, a place where people are living in luxury. That’s because they harvested delightful food and supplies with the help of a poor man from Okobore. The group behind the scene frustrates me.

We have a new character named Speed, a Horse Smile User. Oda and his imagination continue to run wild with her design. She looks like she’s wearing the horse back costume, more so than being part of her (if that make any sense). She has 350 degree field of vision, so she can hardly miss. What made me laugh and thought of Oda’s creation is when she smiles; it’s pretty much a horse’s smile. I know it’s in her title, but still. Anyway, she detects a problem, so we finally resume where we left off.

I can’t stop laughing at the sight of a lion’s face as a stomach. Speaking of him, we finally got his name, Kamijiro. I don’t know why it’s necessary, but then again, one translator’s note does suggest a hidden pun. There’s one interesting information about the Beasts Pirates that continue to evaluate my hype meter for this arc. The leader is Jack the Drought, the same guy who attacked Zou. That world building keeps bringing the payoff.

We already heard plenty of stories with him already, so we get how strong he is. He was taken out by an elephant, which is nothing to laugh at really, but he did survive. Come to think of it, I recalled the reveal of his appearance, which makes a lot of sense connecting to the Beasts Pirate. The real shocker is he was around in the area a few days ago. If that’s the case, then this arc could bring out the actual battle with Jack. If he is anything like the hype suggested, this could be really bad.

Holdem is a coward by resorting to “telling my dad” tactic and use Tama as a hostage to stall time and worst of all, torture her for his amusement. What angers further for Luffy is when Speed and others return with a loaded ship of foods. It gives him all the more reason to hate the selfish and greedy town after going through a nice but poor town. Most importantly, it gives him a new plan to not only take Tama back, but to steal the food from them. That’s pretty damn bold, even knowing the consequences. Awesome.

There’s one moment that builds up for an intriguing confrontation. The Worst Generation has been utilizing more and more in this arc, which is good. After Hawkins versus Luffy, I’m hoping for more of that kind with other members. Sure enough, Law in disguise stops Hawkins and pretty much challenge him in a fight. Color me hyped.

Before the chapter closes, we have to get that good feel moment. Luffy rescues Tama so swiftly and easily. Zoro slashes through enemies and takes the ship. Damn, those two work fast. My favorite part is the ending. Luffy was happy that Tama is safe, but he notices her cheek is bruised up. She acts like it is fine, but Luffy won’t have it. Pardon me for going deep, but the image does scream to me child abuse and like Luffy, it pissed the hell out of me. Thank Oda to give us the reward we deserved. He goes back to confront Holdem and in one hit, knocked the hell out of him. A double page of greatness. You can’t hate him when he channels our frustration.

This was a pretty good chapter. I like how it gives us and the characters the reason to be irritated by the awful system of the country; clearly favor one over all. I’m intrigued with the battle between Hawkins and Law, even if it may end short. The last part was filled with satisfying moments, especially the ending. The art is also pretty good with pretty details and such. Taking a break does have its payoff. What’s next for Luffy and others? We have to wait and see.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hey there :) I was wondering if you have any fics where Moriarty (or any villain really) kidnaps John/Sherlock and the other has to try to find them?

Anonymous said to inevitably-johnlocked: hi! do you have any fic recs where sherlock is the one that’s captured for something and john has to save him?

Hi Nonnies!!

Oh, I don’t have many, so I’ll give you all the kidnapping & related fics I have! Most of them are on FFnet, since that’s when I used to read a lot of angst, LOL. Hope these satisfy! Feel free to add your own, all!

KIDNAPPING, HOSTAGE, & STALKING

Imminent by LoyalPaddler (K+, 1K+w || Kidnapping, Open Ending) – What did it say about a person if he recognized the feeling of waking up concussed, blindfolded, and handcuffed to a chair? Probably not good, that.

Not a Soldier by LoyalPaddler (T, 1K+ w. || HC / Pre-S3, Nice!Mary, Hostage Situation) – A day on the battlefield with Sherlock Holmes.

Odd and Even by katkin (K+, 1K+w. || Post-TBB, Friendship) – Sherlock helps John to come to terms with the ordeal of his kidnapping.

Persuasion by Januscars (K+, 1K+ w. || Friendship, Crime, Angry Sherlock, Hostage John) – A gunman holds a gun to John’s head, and Sherlock proves to be very persuasive when he wants to be… 

In Which John is a BAMFy MoFo, OMG! by Kantayra (T, 1,835 w. || Humour) – John’s BAMFness and Sherlock’s damsel-in-distress act are caught forever on camera. So Scotland Yard can mock. A lot.

All in a Day by chappysmom (K+, 2K+ w. || Kidnapping, Sherlock POV) – Oddly enough, it seemed like this time, Sherlock had been kidnapped for no other reason than to pressure John. In other words, this had nothing to do with him. Really, this on top of the blow to the head was enough to make him dizzy.

It’s All Fine by AkoyaMizuno (T, 2K+ w. || Post-TGG, Introspection, Mild Angst, Friendship) – Sherlock never asked what happened in the hours between John being kidnapped and the events at the pool. It occurs to him, days after the fact, that he probably should have.

Doesn’t Follow Me Everywhere by Janec Shannon (T, 3K+ w. || Humour and Friendship) – "He doesn’t follow me everywhere, you know.“ Silly John, of course he does what with your penchant for getting kidnapped.

For Thou Art With Me by Ultra-Geek (T, 3K+ w. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship) – It is a normal day. Boring, routine. Right up until John Watson walks out the door and off the face of the earth. Companion to ’And I Shall Fear No Evil’, but can stand alone

Fortune Favours the Wet by CaffieneKitty (K+, 3K+w. || Adventure, Trapped John) – There was something to be said about the quiet of the bottom of a well… Things go wrong for John during a case.

And I Shall Fear No Evil by Ultra-Geek (T, 4K+ w. || Angst, Hurt/Comfort) – John’s been taken by an unknown enemy who will stop at nothing to find out more about one Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Companion to ‘For Thou Art With Me’, but can stand alone.

Nursery Rhymes by macrauchenia (T, 4K+ || Angst, Suspense, MCD, Unhappy Ending, Kidnapping) – “Hickory dickery dock. Sherlock’s against the clock. When the wick is gone, so will be John. Hickory dickery dock.” - John is in a struggle for his life in a warehouse rigged to blow by Moriarty.

Things Unseen and Left Unsaid by Ultra-Geek (T, 4K+ w. || Friendship, Drama, Kidnapping) – Sherlock can’t crack the riddle that is John Watson. But that’s going to have to be put on hold, as said riddle has currently been kidnapped and buried alive, and Sherlock only has seven hours to find him.

Carry On by Mazarin221b (M, 4,647 w. || 5 and Ones, H/C, Afghanistan, Frottage, Hand Jobs, First Time, Whump) – Five times John didn’t want to be carried, and one time he did.

when Harry met Sally (and then Sherlock Holmes) by Etharei (T, 5,443 w. || POV Outsider, Kidnapped John) – Harry Watson hadn’t expected the Met, and possibly the British government, to be this keen on locating her missing brother.

The Death of Doubt by Gingerhermit (E, 6,584 w. || Alternate Canon, BAMF John, POV Sherlock, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Hurt/Comfort, Angst/Drama, Meddling Mycroft) – Mycroft asks for John’s help in rescuing Sherlock from his Serbian captors.

Drowning in Darkness by chappysmom (T, 7K+w. || Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapped John, Post-TRF Hiatus / Reunion, John Whump, Angst with Happy Ending, Depressed John, Background Case Fic) – He couldn’t decide if it was a relief or a curse that he’d been left completely, absolutely alone. You couldn’t fight darkness with your fists, and no matter how strong your will-power, it could be beaten down by the constant monotony of nothingness. Nobody needed John. 

The Hours Before Midnight by Lady Sam Mallory (T, 7K+w. || Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Violence, TGG Fic) – Moriarty doesn’t play fair. John must deal with hours of torment from Moriarty before going to meet Sherlock at the Pool at the end of the Great Game and Sherlock must deal with the consequences of his boredom.

Sibling Rivalry Or Fighting Over John Watson By Jessa7 (T, 8,085 w. || Romance / Humour) – Mycroft is just as much of a genius as Sherlock is. He keeps randomly kidnapping John for chats, and the locations get better. Cue Sherlock’s younger sibling complex rearing up and jealousy ensues.

Riddles in the Dark by Starlight05 (T, 9K+ w. || Suspense & Friendship, Torture) - When Sherlock is kidnapped by an old nemesis, it’s up to John to find him and save his life. But can he find a way to get the detective out of this mess? And will they be found in time?

To See You Again by Arisprite (T, 11K+ w. || Suspense, H/C, Supernatural) – When John wakes to a world where no one can see or hear him, it takes everything he has, including the upheaval of past mistakes to find out what happened in time to save his own life. No slash.

Fear Itself by KCS (K+, 12K+ w. || Suspense, Friendship) – John is accustomed to being kidnapped by now, but he never expected a criminal to adopt Mycroft’s method of doing so, to ensure he comes along without a fight.

The Haze by Ulura (T, 15K+ w. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Whump, Turmoil, Mystery, Worried Sherlock, Mycroft Helps Sherlock, Flashbacks, Blood, Kidnapped John) – Sherlock wakes up, injured and confused on the floor of 221b, the last two days a complete blank. He must struggle not only to recover but to figure out what happened to him and most importantly, find his missing friend John Watson.

Pressure Points by Starlight05 (T, 17K+w. || Suspense & Friendship, Intense Themes, Torture) - SEQUEL TO ‘RIDDLES IN THE DARK’ – Sebastian Moran is locked away in prison, but he plots to escape and seek revenge on Mycroft Holmes. Meanwhile, Sherlock and John are dealing with a change in their relationship, trying not to fall apart. And as ties are tested and allegiances altered, events unfold in the streets of London that threaten both the Holmes brothers and everyone they care for.

Couples Retreat by Madam_Fandom (E, 18,717 w. || Fake Relationship, Undercover Couple, Case Fic, Angst, Kidnapping, Fake Marriage, Cross Dressing) – Couples are turning up missing at a very high class couples retreat; and the only way to get to the bottom of it is for John and Sherlock to go under cover as a couple. {{Haven’t read this yet, so read at your discretion}}

Too Visible by chappysmom (K+, 23K+ w. || John Becomes Invisible, THoB Rewrite, Friends, Kidnapping, Angst) – With his gift of being invisible, John has always worried about being locked away in an experimental government lab … but what do you do when it’s your best friend who locks you up? Baskerville is quite literally John’s worst nightmare-and the Hound has nothing to do with it. It’s all Sherlock’s fault, but will he realize that? Sequel to Invisible & Still Invisible

Maintaining A Personal Life by Gingerhermit (E, 24,284 w. || Alternating POV’s, Bisexuality, BAMF!John, Romance / Drama, Sort-of Case Fic, Peril & Angst, Love Confessions, Toplock, Soft Idiots in Love, Post S3) – Sherlock and John discover some interesting revelations about each other’s sexuality, which lead them both to question the assumptions they’ve made about one another for years. In the midst of their mutual discoveries, a dangerous psychopath looms on the side-lines who threatens to destroy their new beginning.

26 Pieces by Lanning (E, 28,236 w. || H/C, Schmoop, Torture) – Mycroft gives Sherlock the apparently simple task of solving a puzzle box containing a stolen microchip. It isn’t simple.

M Is For Moriarty by ElvendorkInfinity (T, 29K+ w. || Suspense, Mystery, Case Fic, Worried Sherlock, No Slash, Whump) – A figure at the end of the hospital bed; a needle in the dark…Moriarty has John, and Sherlock must follow the paper trail through London to find him before time runs out. Sequel to BANG.

Jack In The Box by Liketheriver (T, 30,785 w. || Romance, Case Fic, H/C, Lestrade First POV) – John’s been kidnapped, Mycroft has rules, and Lestrade has to do his best to keep up with Sherlock as they deal with a returning foe. Lestrade POV as he and Sherlock work to find John, even though that’s the last thing John seems to want. Part 2 of Bedtime Universe

Bloody But Unbowed by BeautifulFiction (E, 43,211 w. || Abduction, John Whump, Mild Torture, Background Case Fic, Friends to Lovers, Post-TRF / S3 Rewrite, Hurt/Comfort) – When a familiar argument threatens to destroy the last remnants of John and Sherlock’s failing friendship, both men are left questioning their worth to one another. Before either of them has the chance to make amends, circumstance intervenes. John is left at the mercy of his abductors, and this time, he’s not sure Sherlock will bother coming to his rescue.

A Promise Made to Be Broken by PlantsAreNeat (E, 37,018 w. || Fake Relationship, Pining, Slow Burn, RST, Eventual Relationship, POV Sherlock) – A young John makes an ‘if we’re still single at 40, we’ll get together’ pledge to a woman who ends up all wrong for him. She keeps reminding him of the promise, and won’t let go of it. John asks Sherlock to pose as his boyfriend at a family wedding, so as to dash her hopes permanently. Sherlock, who has at last acknowledged his feelings for John, reluctantly agrees despite knowing how painful it will be to ‘have’ John, but not keep him.

The Case of the Vanishing Pants by SwissMiss (E, 44,025 w. || Five and Ones, Friends to Lovers, Case Fic, Homophobia, UST, Post-TRF) – Five times John and Sherlock lost their pants in the course of a case.

Lost Without My Blogger by starrysummernights (E, 52,155 w. || Rev. Reich, PTSD, Hurt / Comfort, Fluff / Angst, Psychological Torture, Reunion Fic, Friends to Lovers) – John is abducted and declared dead. How will Sherlock cope without his blogger? How will he react when John comes back from the “dead?” Drama and angst with a healthy dose of romance. Part 1 of I’d Be Lost Without My Blogger

Fan Mail by scullyseviltwin (E, 53,942 w. || Stalking, Obsessive Fans, Angst) – “WatsonChick143 has been rather maniacal in her commenting as of late… she’s left comments on everything you’ve posted John, something so obvious can’t have escaped even your attention.“

Wars We Fought, Things We’re Not by blueink3 (M, 55,204 w. || Parentlock, Fluff & Angst, Kidnapping, Whump, Post-TAB, UST, Slow Burn, Couple for a Case) –  Five months after John’s world has fallen apart, Mycroft sends the consulting detective and his doctor on a case that neither is prepared for.

Secrets and Revelations by Hisstah (E, 85,535 w. || Sentinel / Guides AU, Omegaverse, Aventure, Violence, Anal / Oral, Omega!John / Alpha!Sherlock, Case Fic, Politics, Mild DubCon) – Dr John Watson has some major secrets that he’s kept from his flatmate, Alpha Sentinel Sherlock Holmes. Now the Sentinel Tower is after him. Can John stay out of their hands until he can reveal his secrets to Sherlock? Part 1 of Secrets and Revelations

Shatter the Darkness (Let the Light In) by MojoFlower (E, 109,683 w. || Genie/Djinn AU || Magical Realism, H/C, Kidnapping, Genie Sherlock, First Kiss / Time, Case Fic, H/C, Angst, Clubs, John Whump) – Fairy tales are for those who remember how to dream; not John Watson, broken and hiding from his bleak future in a beige bedsit. But then he discovers a lamp and finds himself in the dangerous riptide of an enigmatic man whose very existence is unbelievable, murder charges against his sister, and the growing pains of feeling alive once more.

THERE BUT FOR THE GRACE OF JOHN WATSON by skyefullofstars (T, 110,758 w. || H/C, Kidnapping, Angst, Violence, Whump, Nightmares, Murder, Drug Addiction, Torture) – While Sherlock grapples with his new-found feelings for John Watson, he faces a very real threat: John’s kidnapping and shooting at the hands of James Moriarty. And the knowledge that the love of his life is being used to test an addictive drug - at the risk of John’s sanity and life. Prequel to THE BOYS OF BAKER STREET. Part 1 of THERE BUT FOR THE GRACE OF JOHN WATSON

The Swan Triad by Pennin_Ink (T, 121,660 w. across 3 works || Swan Lake AU || Magical / Fairy Tale AU, Romance, Falling in Love, Pining, Psychological Torture, Transformation) – Sherlock and John grow up spending every summer together. Their mothers’ attempts to play matchmaker only fuel their mutual resentment and scorn. But then, one summer.

Ten Days by Engazed (E, 137,208 w. || Rape/Non-Con, Post-TRF, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Torture, Case Fic) – Sherlock Holmes has been dead for forty months, and John is at last beginning to live his life again. But just when he believes he might be happy, his world crashes back down around him.John is named a missing person. Someone is pointing DI Lestrade in the wrong direction. And as the days pass, his situation only grows more dire. It seems like the disappearance of his best friend is the only thing that can bring Sherlock Holmes back from the dead. Part 1 of The Fallen {{I haven’t read this one yet so heed the tags}}

Midnight Blue Serenity by BeautifulFiction (E, 151,907 w. || Friends to Lovers, Gay Bar / For a Case, Drugs, Pining, Case Fic, UST) – When Sherlock infiltrates a club in order to track down a serial killer, his altered appearance is enough to make John question his assumption that Sherlock is beyond his reach. However, is he the only one who appreciates his flatmate’s charms, or is Sherlock at risk of becoming the next victim?

[cwnerd12]

Nye Ver’, Nye Boysia, Nye Prosi

“Nye Ver’, Nye Boysia, Nye Prosi” Wednesday sits at the bar of a fancy hotel, sipping a martini. She nervously eyes the front door. One of Silas’s advisors, Victor enters. Wednesday smiles and stands up. Victor comes over and kisses her on the cheek, “You look lovely this evening.” Wednesday: “Thank you. I was just finishing my drink, would you like one?” Victor: “No. Let’s just go up to the room.” Wednesday and Victor enter a luxe hotel room. Wednesday, “I know you want to get busy, but you’re going to have to give me a minute to get ready, all right?” Victor sighs, “You tease.” Wednesday laughs, casts a glance behind her, and says, “Just a minute.” She goes into the bathroom. Victor takes his jacket off, loosens his tie, and lays down on the bed, “You wouldn’t believe the week I’ve had! You paid any attention to the news?” Wednesday, in the bathroom, shimmies out of her dress, revealing fancy lingerie underneath, “Uh, yeah, I’ve heard about the bombings.” Victor: “Everyone who works for Silas now has to keep their car under 24-hour surveillance. It’s an enormous pain in the ass. Silas is screaming at everyone who enters his office. I’m in the ministry of communication, and somehow, Silas has it in his head that it’s our fault that people are supporting David Shepherd and the AFG. I’ve actually had to explain it to him, it’s not my fault that Shepherd is good-looking. He has kind eyes! How the fuck am I supposed to convince people that this good-looking kid with kind eyes is really some evil would-be tyrant?” In the bathroom, Wednesday adjusts her hair, making sure something is well-covered. Victor, “Claudia?” Wednesday turns around and exits the bathroom, “Baby, you’re a big, important man, I know, and your job is hard.” Victor: “Lookin’ at you, my job’s not the only thing that’s hard.” Wednesday saunters over to the bed. She leans over the advisor and touches his face, “You just let me make your life a little bit easier, all right?” Victor, “You always do.” Wednesday smiles, and crawls onto the bed. She straddles Victor, bends over, and kisses him. She reaches into her hair, and slips a razor blade in between her fingers. With a swift single movement, she cuts the blood vessels on one side of Victor’s throat. Victor clutches at his neck, and sees the blood on his hands, “What the fuck?!” Wednesday slashes the other side of his neck, even more blood gushing out. She hops off the bed and hurries into the bathroom. Frantically, she washes the blood off of her hands. She puts her dress back on, and grabs her purse. She pulls a can of spray paint out, and goes back over to the bed, where Victor lays dead. Wednesday sprays three golden stars over his body. She puts the can back into her purse, and leaves. Outside the hotel, she gets into a car. Driver: “You get him?” Wednesday: “Oh, christ, that felt good.” The driver hands her a stack of papers, “False ID, get you to Gath.” He starts the car. Wednesday, “I’m joining the Queens of Gilboa!” Driver, “Yeah, before you go, we have to stop somewhere.” Wednesday: “Where?” Cut to: outside a run-down warehouse, the driver and another guy shove a blindfolded, gagged, and bound spy who poisoned David into the trunk of the car, and slam the door shut. Driver gets back in the car. Wednesday: “Who the fuck is that? Are we doing kidnappings now?” Driver starts the car, “Kidnappings for ransom aren’t our thing. This bitch, she’s special. She’s a spy, went to Gath, tried to poison David.” Wednesday: “You’re kidding me.” Driver: “Yup. Gath spy network identified her, we’re just picking her up and bringing her where she needs to be.” They drive off.

Morning, Reinhardt walks through a parking garage, talking on his phone, “Victor Lyons is dead because he was a moron who loves hookers. I warned him months ago that the AFG would be recruiting prostitutes, but he didn’t listen to me.” He listens and reaches his car. He unlocks it and gets in, “Sir, I assure you, Lyons was an easy target. All we need is some basic security measures, and everything will be fine.” A bomb hidden in the car next to him goes off, and Reinhardt ducks below his window, protected by the bomb-proof steel of his car door. He sits back up, his arm injured, blood pouring from a gash on his forehead, “I’ll have to call you back, sir.”

David climbs up the front steps of the National Cathedral of Gath. At the top, Shaw and his family wait, “David! So glad you came to join us this morning!” David shakes his hand, “I’m glad to be here, sir.” Shaw, “I’d like you to meet my family. My wife, Lena.” David shakes her hand, “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.” Shaw, “And my sons, Michael, Fredrick, and Leon.” David shakes their hands, “Pleased to meet you.” Michael: “You’re the one who freed our hostages and blew up a Goliath.” David, “Among other things, yeah.” Shaw, “You’ll have to forgive Michael, he’s spent quite a bit of time leading his unit in battle against the Gilboan army. When he heard the news of your… escapade, he was very angry.” David laughs nervously, “Yeah, well, Gath did kind of kill my father and my brother, so I guess I can understand what it’s like to be angry.” Lena, “King Silas murdered my father!” David, “And Silas tried to kill me, so, hey, we can all agree that we don’t like Silas, right?” Shaw, “Why don’t I show you the cathedral?” Inside, David looks up at the bright stained glass windows, depicting various saints and the instruments of their martyrdom. Shaw, “Modern Gath was founded on the principals of socialism. Our great leader, Nicholas Achison, was quite wise, and he saw what happened to the legacies of Stalin and Mao, and knew that he wouldn’t have his revolution undone, so he decided that leadership of Gath would be kept within the men of the Achison family." David, "So, a monarchy.” Shaw, “No, no, no, we’re not a monarchy, leadership doesn’t automatically go to the oldest son. It just so happened that Premiere Achison only had a son and a daughter, and I married his daughter. One day, my premiership will be handed down to whichever son I believe is the most capable leader.” David, “So… who’s that gonna be?” Shaw, “I prefer not to show favoritism.” David shrugs, “Okay.” Shaw goes on, “One other way we differ from other socialist countries is that here, we embrace God, we worship Him and ask Him for guidance. Gath doesn’t have the same moral corrosion as Gilboa. I am the head of this state, but I lead for the people. I’m not swayed by the whims of the bourgeoisie the way that Silas is.” David, “You wouldn’t believe the kinds of things William Cross was able to get away with in Gilboa.” Shaw, “Do you want to be king, David?” David sighs, “That’s a really good question, sir.” Shaw, “What do you believe it is that a king should do?” David, “Not kill his own citizens, for a start.” Shaw laughs, “Being a leader isn’t easy, but it’s very rewarding, in its own way. We should join Lena and the boys. Mass is about to begin.” Cut to: David sits beside Shaw, praying along to “Our Father.” “And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen.” David leans over to Shaw and whispers, “Deliver us from evil. That’s what a king does.”

Before the front door of HQ can even shut on him, Jack runs up to David, “We got her!” David: “Who?” Jack: “The bitch that poisoned you!”

Silas and Abner sit in Silas’s office, staring at Reinhardt, arm in a sling, forehead bandaged, with a nasty black eye and small cuts all over his face. Abner barely conceals a smirk. Reinhardt, “I’ve had combat wounds before. This is nothing. It looks much worse than it is.” Abner, “And here I thought Shepherd was much too fond of you to order an attack on you.” Silas, “Shepherd doesn’t give a fuck.” Reinhardt, “I don’t know if he gave the order to attack me specifically. It pains me to say this, but I believe all the attacks so far have been attacks of opportunity. We should be taking some more advanced security measures.” Silas, “What other news do you have?” Reinhardt, “The spy who poisoned Shepherd was reported missing this morning. She was supposed to report to the MSS building, but didn’t show up, and her apartment is empty. She isn’t responding to any messages.” Silas sighs deeply, “Is this AFG or Gath?” Reinhardt, “It could be both.” Abner, “Is there the chance it’s the work of an angry ex-boyfriend?” Reinhardt, dismissively, “Pft. No. This girl could defend herself.” Silas, “We don’t need to worry. Can either of you imagine Shepherd doing an interrogation? He’s too damn polite. He’s like a fat lazy cat that catches a mouse and then doesn’t know what to do with it.”

Gath version of the Lubyanka. David, Jack, Shay, Joel, Abby, and Asher stand on the hidden side of a one-way mirror while the spy sits handcuffed to a table on the other side. David: “So… now what do we do?” Jack: “We interrogate her.” David: “Do any of us know anything about how to interrogate a spy?” Jack: “I know a few techniques.” Shay: “I know how to cause immense amounts of pain, that’s all you need.” Abby: “She’s fucking trained, if you try torturing her, she’ll only give us false information!” Shay: “Having your head held under water is not torture.” Abby: “I have reports, study after study, all of which show that harsh interrogation techniques do not fucking work!” Shay: (childish mocking voice) “I have reports, I have studies!” Abby: “Just see how fucked we’ll be when we make a mistake because we acted on a spy telling us what we want to hear!” David rubs his eyes: “Oh my God. Asher, what do you say?” Asher: “I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to tell you that torture is wrong, but I spent an afternoon cleaning up your barf because of her, so fuck that bitch.” Spy: “Are you in there blowing each other, or are you going to fucking interrogate me?” Shay: “The longer we take, the more she’s gonna know we have no idea what we’re doing.” David: “Fine. Jack, Shay, you two go ask some questions, okay?” Jack: “Give me a minute. I think I have a plan, I just… I just need to think it out.” Shay rolls her eyes and goes into the interrogation room. Joel: “David, can I talk to you in the hallway?” David follows him out into a hallway. Joel: “Do you know the history of this building?” David: “Um… it’s a police building?” Joel: “In 1965, my grandfather came to Gath from the Soviet Union on a cultural exchange. They found him carrying human rights reports on the Soviets and brought him here. The tortured him for days, and then sent him to a prison camp. He managed to escape from there and defect to Gilboa.” David: “Oh. That’s… cool, I guess?” Joel unbuttons the top buttons of his shirt and shows David the “Не Верь Не Бойся Не Проси” tattoo on his collarbone, “Do you know what this means?” David: “No.” Joel: “Nye ver’, nye boysia, nye prosi. Don’t trust, don’t fear, don’t beg. It’s how you survive in a gulag. We can’t trust, fear, or beg from Gath or Shaw. You can trick yourself into thinking that just because we seem to be safe here, it means we really are safe. You can come to think that maybe things are better in Gath than they are in Gilboa, but trust me, things here are just as fucked up.” David: “Are… you familiar with Bilal?” Joel: “Bilal? He’s a fucking religious nutjob who wants to replace one brutal regime with another. But he’s not wrong about Shaw, okay?” David, exasperated, “We can’t really be an army without Gath’s help. We’d be pretty fucked without a safe place to stay.” Joel: “Yeah, I know, it’s why I didn’t say anything to you earlier. But you need to know. Shaw’s help comes with a price, and some day soon, he’s going to come asking. What are you willing to sacrifice for what we’re fighting for?” David: “I’m not even entirely sure what it is we’re fighting for. I’ve got to figure some shit out.”

In his office, Shaw speaks to his computer, “What do you want?” On his screen, William appears, “Good afternoon, Premiere Shaw. I know you aren’t terribly fond of bourgeoise scum such as myself, but since you buy plenty of my weapons, I thought I should speak with you.” Shaw, “Yes?” William: “I’m not gonna fuck around. You hate Silas. I hate Silas. I tried to overthrow Silas. Someone else who’s trying to overthrow Silas is currently a guest in your country. I believe there’s an agreement to be made here.” Shaw: “Shepherd has said he is going to be king. I know you want the crown all for yourself.” William, “It should have been mine in the first place!” Shaw: “Are you going to try to overthrow me, too?” William, “No. Why would I want to rule Gath?” Shaw: “What do you want, Mr. Cross?” William grows cold and serious, “Shepherd is going to turn on you.” Shaw grows more serious, “Why do you say that?” William: “Because he has fucking morals, and he’s going to learn about your prison camps sooner or later. I don’t give a fuck, and because of that, you can trust me.” Shaw: “What are you trying to do?” William: “Overthrow Silas and get my crown! I believe that David can help me do that, but I need your help to help me help Shepherd.” Shaw: “So what do you want?” William: “The deets on Shepherd. What he does, where he goes, the people he’s with.” Shaw: “Right now, I believe he’s at our police headquarters. Something about the person who poisoned him.” William: “He was poisoned?!” Shaw: “Prince Jack recognized it right away and acted quickly.” William: “I need to know this!” Shaw: “Very well, I’ll stay in touch with you, then.” William: “You need to keep Shepherd loyal to you.” Shaw: “And how am I going to do that?” William: “Offer autonomy to the borderlands. That’s his home, he’s not going to say no.” Shaw: “I can’t undermine my own authority.” William: “How badly do you want to see Silas gone? Because if Shepherd remains loyal to you, you can use him to fight Silas.” Shaw: “I just ended a war. I vowed that I would protect the peace, and I will continue to do that!” William, smarmy and sarcastic, “Oh, will you? Because I promise you, Silas is gearing up for another war. It would be a shame if he should declare one and Gath should suddenly not have any weapons with which to defend itself. There’s gonna be another war, and with Shepherd on your side, you can fuckin’ win.” Shaw sighs heavily, “I’ll think about it.” William: “Also, if you’ve got one Gilboan spy in Gath, there’s more. If I were you, I’d get that spy to talk.” Shaw, “Thank you, Mr. Cross.”

David goes back into the room beside the interrogation room. On the other side of the mirror, Shay holds they spy’s head down in a bucket of water. David: “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” He leans into the microphone, “Knock it off, will you?!” Shay lets go of the spy, who comes up sputtering, but laughing. Spy: “Whoo! That was fun! Just like going to the waterpark when I was a kid!” David: “Shay, would you come here, please?” Spy: “Shepherd’s here?! Yeah, I recognize your voice! How’d you enjoy the shake?!” Shay leaves the interrogation room and joins David and the others. Shay: “Does anyone else have a fucking plan?!” Jack: “I do.” Jack goes into the interrogation room. Spy: “Ooooh! I get the prince! Nice!” Jack: “You shoulda tried something other than aconite, I’ve seen it a million times and recognized it right away. I personally would have gone with ricin. Slower acting, starts out like the flu, probably woulda just thought David was sick and wouldn’t have pinned it on the diner.” Spy: “I don’t have that kind of patience. I’m a kill-em-quick kinda girl.” Jack: “Too bad. Because your fuckup landed you here.” Jack sits down: “Look, I get it, you’re a professional. I’ve seen our spy training program up close, so I know what it’s like, and I know the old head in a bucket trick isn’t going to work on you.” Spy: “And now you’re onto the good cop part of the interrogation, right?” Jack: “Do you believe in God?” Spy: “What?” Jack: “My dad says God is on his side, King Shaw says God is on his side, a lot of people say God is on David’s side. Seems like a good place to start when getting to know you.” Spy: “I believe in God. I accept Jesus Christ as my personal lord and savior.” Jack: “Okay,” He tries to say more but Spy cuts him off, “And I hold that there is no God but Allah and Mohammed is his messenger! I’ll believe whatever the fuck you want me to believe, buddy! I know you’re trying to be my friend. And I know exactly what you want from me. Who am I? How did I get to Gath? Are there others like me? What are they planning? So don’t expect me to tell you any of that.” Jack smirks, “Do you want some coffee?” Spy makes a curious face, but smiles, “Sure. Anything that’ll make this go faster. Four sugars, no cream.” Jack turns around, “David, go get our guest some coffee.”  David looks on, surprised. Jack: “Seriously, go get her some!” David goes and fetches a cup. He goes into the interrogation room. Spy, sarcastic: “Oh my god, it’s David Shepherd! I can’t believe I get to meet him!” She drinks her coffee, “You were so fucking easy to find. You go to the same diner and eat the same shit almost every day. Seriously my job shouldn’t be this easy!” Jack: “How’s the coffee?” Spy: “The coffee in this country tastes like shit.” Jack: “It’s not the coffee that tastes like shit, it’s the ten milligrams of ricin that David put in there.” The spy sits coffee all over the table. Jack laughs: “Just kidding. You’ll be fine. Maybe. You should be more careful when making your assumptions about us.” He gets up and leaves, and David follows. In the observation room, Shaw is waiting for them. David, “Uh, hello, sir, we’re just trying to talk to this spy.” Shaw: “Have you gotten anything?” Jack: “No. In Gilboa, the spies have these fucked up loyalty tests, it basically makes sure they won’t say shit under sudden duress. I think I can get her to talk to us, but it’s gonna take time.” Shaw: “That won’t do. If Silas has a spy network in Gath, I need to know as soon as possible.” Jack: “I think I can get some real answers from her, but I’m gonna need more than an afternoon. It could take weeks, months even.” Shaw: “If you can’t get get me answers right now, I’m sending my professionals in.” Jack: “No, you don’t have to!” Shaw leaves. David: “Shit!” David rushes into the interrogation room, panicked, and speaks to the spy, “Look, Shaw is bringing his men in, and if you want us to be the ones dealing with you, you need to give us some answers, now!” Spy: “Fuck you, Shepherd! I know psychological pressure when I see it!” Two uniformed Gath officers enter behind David, one carrying an ominous-looking case that he sets on the desk. David: “Just tell us one thing!” Spy: “FUCK YOU!” One of the officers says, “Would you please leave the room, Captain Shepherd?” Spy: “Yeah, Captain Shepherd, we don’t need you any more!” David, with a defeated sigh: “Please, just tell them what you know.” David leaves. As the door closes, one of the officers open the case, and takes out a power drill. The two officers both look at the spy, and fear comes into the spy’s eyes. In the observation room, David and the others look on in wordless horror. David has to look away, “Do we have to stay here?” Abby, shaking: “This is in violation of so many international laws!” Joel: “International laws don’t mean shit in Gath.” David: “Seriously, if we don’t have to be here, I’m leaving.” He stands up, and the others follow him. Out in the hallway, Shaw stops David, “Can I speak with you privately once more?” David looks at the others, “I’ll catch up with you.” The others leave, and David turns to Shaw, “What do you want?” Shaw: “I’ve come to appreciate how valuable your allyship has been to Gath. I don’t want to let it go unpaid. If you continue to help us, David, I’m willing to offer autonomy to the borderlands.”

[sholiofic]

Peggy/Daniel/Jack, some sort of case where the boys are trapped together and Peggy is separated from the group, and she has to figure out how to save them all?

Escape was a simple matter of waiting until her captors weren't paying attention (which didn't take long; yet another situation when being underestimated as a "hostage" worked out in her favor). Peggy took down all three of the men guarding her without much effort, then stole one of their knives to slash the ropes they'd used to bind her.

Smoke from the burning warehouse rolled up into the purple evening sky as she ran toward it, and flames were visible, flickering in the high windows. Take the dame with you. Kill the other two.

"Daniel!" she shouted. "Jack!" The tall steel door was padlocked; she wrenched at it without results, and looked around for something that might be able to break the chain. She hadn't thought to search the mobsters' bodies for a key, and the sound of a slamming car door let her know they'd decided to make their getaway from the burning warehouse without trying to recapture her.

Surely someone would see the flames and call the authorities. But they were far out in the warehouse district; it wouldn't be an immediate response, even so.

"Daniel! Jack!" She kicked aside trash around the warehouse door. There had to be something --

"Peggy?" Jack called from the other side of the door, coughing.

Peggy sagged in relief. At least they hadn't simply been shot. "How are you? Is Daniel with you?"

"I'll survive," Jack said. He coughed again. "Sousa's still pretty out of it. Don't suppose you've got a way to open that door, do you?"

"I'm working on it!" She slammed her fist into the door. The worst thing would always be the helplessness of a situation like this, unable to influence what was happening inside ... or on the other end of a radio ... "What's your situation in there?"

"Oh, you know, just hanging around --" There was a sudden crash from inside, making Peggy jump. Sparks showered from one of the high windows. "Hey, so, any luck getting that door open?" Jack demanded, his voice ragged.

"Is there a back door?"

"Not one that isn't on fire!"

"Wait!" She'd finally managed to locate something useful-looking, a length of rusty iron pipe. She put it through the chain and threw her back into trying to snap the padlock loose. "Jack, throw yourself against the door from the inside. I'm trying to break the chain."

There was a door-rattling thump, simultaneous with the sound of something exploding in the burning warehouse. Jack cursed. The door rattled again. Then, with a final violent wrench that Peggy thought must have torn something in her shoulders, the rusted chain broke loose and the door slammed open as Jack took another run at it. He and Peggy went down in a flurry of limbs.

"Ow," Peggy declared. The only thing that allowed her to resist the urge to hug him was the fact that they were already, more or less, hugging, in an involuntary kind of way. Jack, bruised and filthy, grinned at her from a few inches away from her face. "If I've broken anything, I shall blame you." She tried to push him off; he rolled off and they ended up pulling each other up.

Smoke was billowing out of the door, along with the acrid reek of toxic fumes. "Daniel --!" Peggy began, lunging into the smoke.

"Over here,” Jack told her.

Jack had left Daniel propped against the wall by the door. He was semi-conscious, reeling as they pulled him up and stumbled away from the building.

They hadn't gone far when something went up with a tremendous Whoomph!, and Peggy looked back to see flames billow out of the open door and roll up into the night.

“Well, that wasn’t close at all,” Jack panted.

"I think we've gone far enough, in any case.”

They lowered Daniel carefully onto a patch of scruffy grass beside the road, then collapsed, one on either side of him. Peggy checked his pulse and then probed at his blood-sticky hair, until he mumbled something in protest and tried to push her hands away, and then she just hugged him. He coughed weakly against her shoulder.

"How many of 'em did you get?" Jack asked. His voice was a rasp; he coughed into his hand.

"Not enough," Peggy declared between her teeth.

Jack reached an arm around Daniel's back to rest his hand on her shoulder, leaning into Daniel from the other side, and they stayed that way as the sound of distant sirens could finally be heard.