#alia standing here like can we PLEASE fucking focus

[elfcollector]

DRAGON AGE: ORIGINS (2009) — developed by bioware.

[secretsofthedarkestkind-arch]

Elena starter for @storieswrittcn​ (this may or may not have gotten away from me, Remember you said you like novella. I also took part of the ramble part one but altered it also)

We are outsiders Living inside a broken world We are outsiders And I know sometimes it can hurt But it gets better yeah we'll make it through We'll stay golden when we're black and blue We are outsiders But we're not hiding anymore This is who we really are

It had been fifteen years since she’d seen either of her brothers face to face. Fifteen years since Lee had spoken to the eldest. Fifteen years since she had thought of Mystic Falls, thought of all the ghosts that lurked within the town's shadows. Lee Salvatore had made it a habit to push anything regarding her brothers, that town, or their past to the deepest recesses of her mind. She had built life after life without them, embracing the warped gift of eternity. She hadn’t truly looked back after she’d transitioned. Finally able to become who she really was without the suffocating opinions of the church, her community, or her family.

It wasn’t an easy journey. Slow in it’s progression. Lee’s aunt had always told her she was a soul gifted before it’s proper time; her sexuality, the way she was born, her passion and skill when it came to art, her desire to see the world. None of it fit in the 1800’s. But as times changed pieces of Lee started to belong. Each change brought new opportunities, allowing Lee to start to put herself together. 

She was still an outsider, still judged--but what else would you expect living in a broken world? What didn’t fit into the neat little boxes of people’s minds, what didn’t fit the societal norm, was still given so much hate. The only difference was now there were those who fought for equality, unafraid to use their voices to promote change. Those people gave Lee hope, gave her strength. Finding those people throughout the last 145 years had shaped her.

Lee Salvatore was still an outsider, but she was also so much more. She was an artist, one with more alias’ than she could count on both hands. She was a college graduate, several degrees tucked away in a safe. She was a traveler, passports filled with stamps and a mind filled with memories she had never imagined to have. But most of all, Lee was finally able to look in the mirror and accept the person she saw; the youngest Salvatore was who she truly was. She held no more self hate. No more whispers of ghosts past haunted her. She was an outsider, but she wasn’t hiding who she really was anymore.

While Lee had taken the road of self discovery, her brothers’ hadn’t. They’d been living in a siblings quarrel, at least Damon was. Stefan suffered at every turn at their brothers hand whenever they fell into each other's orbit or Damon specifically sought him out. Lee was drugged into it whenever Damon crossed too many lines, risking their exposure to the world. 

Stefan had called her no more than seven hours ago asking for her help. There was a trail of bodies leading straight to town, ‘animal attacks’ that couldn’t be explained were catching the eye of news outlets. She hadn’t even known Stefan was back in Mystic Falls. When Lee asked him why he couldn’t just leave, he explained there was something holding him in Mystic Falls that didn’t allow him to--something that could finally give him a sense of belonging--and refused to believe the attacks were Damon. All he wanted was for Lee to be there with him, help keep the spotlight off their kind. The vampire might loathe her brothers, wanting nothing more for them to be miserable, but she wasn’t going to allow Damon to out them. 

Which is why Lee was driving down the main strip on her motorcycle. The town was busy; teens scattered across the storefronts trying to enjoy their last hours of summer vacation. She came to a stop at one of the only stoplights in town, rolling her shoulders dreading whatever was to come when she reached the boarding house. The youngest Salvatore felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand, a shiver going down her spine, every nerve ending coming to life in a way she hadn’t experienced in years. Lee let her head turn to the right, following the pull of whatever was happening.

‘What…” The lithe form of a brunette teen who was walking beside another girl was at the center of her focus. “Turn around.” Lee knew the brunette couldn’t hear her words. Her plea was answered as she turned, eyes almost searching. Those eyes, that’s what did it. “Who are you?” A horn from behind her snapped Lee out of her trance, for a nanosecond the two locked eyes. The vampire’s eyes hidden behind her aviators. The next Lee was pulling off, possibly faster than she should have been. Now she had the true answer of why Stefan refused to leave. 

----

Lee placed a few notebooks, her sketchbook, and a few pens into her satchel--the one she’d had since she was a teen; a gift from her aunt she’d never been able to part with. She glanced up at the ceiling hearing Stefan’s footsteps on the roof. A sigh left her lips, why had she agreed to this? She was roughly 160 years old and able to enroll herself in a Small Town America High School. It was ridiculous; a complete stalker move. There had to be other ways for Stefan to get to know this girl, if that’s even what he was truly hoping to do. For how Stef had explained the situation, Lee could tell he was only doing this because of Katherine.

Subconsciously her thumb started to play with the band of her daylight ring. She was thankful for the chance of life Katherine Pierce had given her but there was so much Lee wished was different. Shaking her head to break out of her thoughts she moved toward her closet to get dressed. Lee scanned through her options, To be me or be who society thinks I should be? It was a debate she hadn’t had in a long time. To make this work she couldn’t disturb the waters between her and her brothers too much. A short laugh left her lips, that was a joke. The three couldn’t be in the same room without starting something. As it was right now, it was just two of them. With that thought in mind Lee grabbed an outfit that would be her. 

Guys white wash skinny jeans that weren’t too tight to show her tuck, a grey and white hooded baseball tee that had a pocket on the left chest, her grey vans, and her black leather jacket she’s had since the 90’s. She finished the look with a black watch. One more look in the mirror and she was pocketing her phone with one hand and slipped her satchel over her shoulder with the other.

She knew Stefan would already be off. His stalker-like tendencies being on overdrive since the ‘animal attack’ last night after Lee had arrived. She ignored Zack who was in his office and headed to the garage, she wasn’t going to run to the school. There wasn’t anything wrong with arriving in style.

-------

Stefan met her in the parking lot. Lee took her helmet off and ran her fingers through her hair, glancing at her brother, her own sunglasses covering her eyes. “Why do you always insist on dressing like that?” He asked, judgement clear in his voice. 

“This is me Stefan. You know that. Let it go. You asked for my help so take me as I am or I get on this bike and leave.” She told him. Lee wasn’t going to put up with his judgement. The world had given her enough of that. Plus her brother had already had his fair share of giving her judgement when they were younger. “I hope you know what you’re doing.” Lee stated, “This is definitely traveling into creeper status.” Stefan didn’t answer, just turned to walk through the crowd of students covering the lawn reconnecting after a summer away. She moved into step beside him, she knew they stood out; leather jackets, both well built and confident in their strides, the aurora of not giving a fuck rolling off them both. 

They finally found their way to the admissions office, standing shoulder to shoulder. Stefan handed over the file that was supposed to hold all they needed but Lee knew was missing more than a few things. She wondered which of the two would compel the woman. Stefan could but where all he drank was Bambi and Co blood who knew how long it would last. Lee sighs, she’s ready to make the move when something behind them stops her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, her nerves firing up again, and she felt that pull to turn around. She also could feel a warm buzz in the air, a witch.

“Hold up. Who’s this?” The first female says, the witch.

The secretary’s voice brings her back to what’s in front of her, saying exactly what she knew was coming. “Your records are incomplete. You’re both missing immunization records and we do insist on transcripts.” Lee glances at Stefan out of the corner of her eye. The last transcripts she had were college one's back in the 1980’s. She hadn’t done high school since the late 70’s and that was only to get into Yale. Their art programs the top in the country. 

Thoughts of the past make her miss her chance, Stefan is taking his sunglasses off, “Please look again,” Lee adjusts her satchel hoping Stefan can do this right. “I’m sure everything you need for both of us is there.” Lee chews the inside of her lower lip, her free hand moving to remove her sunglasses just in case. 

The secretary looks back down, “Well you’re right.” Lee tucks her sunglasses into the collar of her shirt as the woman looks back up at her brother. “So it is.” Stefan-1, Humanity-0.

“Thank you,” Stefan, ever the polite one, says. As they turn to go, Lee glances over at her brother’s schedule. Seems they have all but one class together--Lee has art and Stefan a creative writing course. That works.

“You’re welcome,’ The secretary says, her eyes landing on the two teens in the hall. “Ahh! Miss Bennett, Miss Gilbert I’m glad you’re here. Do you think you could show our two newest students around?” She stands up from behind her desk to walk around to the siblings. “This is Lee and Stefan Salvatore. I think they both have a few classes with you both.” Lee takes in who she now know as a Bennett witch, why the magic felt warm. She gives the teen a charming smile before the pull is to much, her head being forced to turn to the brunette beside her. The vampire takes her in, all she can see is someone new. Lee doesn’t see Katherine when she looks at her. “Hi,” The charming smile turning into a much softer one. “I’m Lee.” She offers her hand to the girl.

[solari-writes-things]

Afraid

🛑 WARNINGS: Blood, descriptions of violence, language 🛑

✨ requested by: @tsumethedrifter

✨ Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader

✨ Summary: Frank stumbles onto the reader’s doorstep after spending some time under the radar.

✨ Solari Says: FRANK CASTLE! I’m so happy to finally have a request for him!! I hope you enjoy!

✨ Prompt(s) - 

#47: Right now, I don’t know if I want to kiss you or shove you off a bridge.

#6:  You don’t scare me.

gif credit: to the OP.

MORE FRANK | MORE MARVEL | > MASTERLIST < |

Your day was almost completed, and for once there was only silence in the walls of your home. Your mind seemed to be at rest, the mundane nature of the past 24 hours relaxing on your shoulders. The only thing you could focus on, now, was the quiet babbling of the movie you had decided to put on for yourself. Watching the actors streak across the screen, delivering their emotionally-driven dialogue. 

None of it registered in your head, the sounds going in one ear and out the other. For once, though, you were absolutely grateful for that.

So when the door had a loud knock on it, you exhaled slowly and threw your legs down from your couch so you could stand. You toss the remote that had been lazily sitting on your chest back onto the sofa, shuffling your feet to the front door now.

Whoever the hell was at the door would get a piece of your mind, that’s for sure.

You tried to see who it was through the peep hole, but couldn’t see a face under the black hood that rested on their head. You grab your pocket knife that sat on your table next to your front door, just in case. You unlock the deadbolt, then the knob, and wait for them to come barreling inside. After a second of silence, you still hold the knife in your free hand as you twist the knob and pull the door open.

There stood a face that you hadn’t seen since he had disappeared off the face of the planet in New York. Immediately, a flurry of different emotions came crashing down on top of you as your eyes rested on his. 

“Frank...?” you breathe out, his expression just as tired as yours.

“Hey,” he husked.

You practically snatch his arm at the sound of his voice, jerking him inside and slamming your front door. “You don’t call me. You don’t even fucking write. The way I have to figure out that you skipped town was through Madani?” you start, your face contorting into something in the same vein as anger. “Then, you have the gull to come to my home, knock on my door and-”

You cut yourself off. There was something that you didn’t notice about him before, in the darkness that shrouded your front porch. His face was bruised, cut, and a little bit of blood pooled at his cheekbone. Some of it collected at his upper lip, spilling from his right nostril. His hand, stained red, cupped his side harshly. Even his hoodie was sticking to the skin on his palm.

“Fucking hell, Frank,” you breathe shakily and begin to guide him to somewhere that he could lay down while you gather a bit of medical supplies. At least the shit that would keep him from getting his blood all over your damn apartment.

“I’m sorry,” he stated immediately as you prepped a place on a towel for him to lay his upper body on.

“Stop,” you immediately demand.

“I didn’t know where else to turn to, [Y/N]. I remember you saying that you were out here. I wouldn’t make it anywhere to lie low while I heal up,” he averted his eyes away from you as he peeled off his sweater.

“Frank. Right now, I don’t know whether I should kiss you, or push you off of a fucking bridge. Please, just let me focus,” your tired eyes met his averted gaze.

He sighed a bit and nodded his head, wincing as you attempted to lay him down on top of your bed. You noticed another thing when he had jerked, that his shoulder was just out of place. He had dislocated it.

“I can pop that back in before we get started...” you say to him, your tone softening up compared to what it had been before.

Despite the fact that he had shown up to your door, injured and unannounced, you had missed him. You were relieved that he had taken comfort to you when he was under the alias of Pete Castiglione. Curtis was worried about him, and to be honest you were too. After hearing his story from Curtis’s side, you understood what this man felt he had to do. You couldn’t fault him for wanting to exact revenge on those who had wronged him. On those who had sentenced him to a life of grievance.

He chose you. 

He chose you to hear his story, as told by both his best friend and himself. He trusted you with sacred information--that he was not who he tried to be. That Pete was just an alias, to a man that the world had wrongfully deemed a murderer.

So you were lost in your thoughts as you placed your hand on his shoulder, ready to pop the joint back into place. “Brace. On my mark, okay?”

Frank nods his head again in silence.

“Three. Two. One,” you count down, and jerk the joint back into its socket. The loud crack in the air was only met with a grunt and seethe from Castle, and you proceeded to lay him back like your original intention was.

“You know,” he breathed as you were turned toward the medical supplies. “You’re probably better off with the latter.”

You felt your jaw tense at the suggestion that you abandon him, your eyes turning sharply at him as soon as the words left his mouth. “You don’t scare me, Frank Castle. I know who you are, your story. The fact that you would suggest such a thing means you think I’ve changed. Sorry to burst your bubble.”

You pour a bit of alcohol on the wound on his side, earning another grunt of disapproval at the sensation he felt. You wipe the access blood away, watching the diluted red collect on the towel beneath him. You sigh, putting a bandage over it and putting tape to seal it to his body.

When you turn to start putting the medical supplies to the side, he reaches out and clasps your hand in his. The callused, but gentle sensation caused your body to loosen up and lose any of the hostility that you had felt with him returning.

You couldn’t keep yourself angry at him. Frank always had his reasons for doing the things he did, in the fashion that he did them. It was something you had to understand as someone that he trusted, someone that he put faith in. He trusted you to remain static, unchanged by the tasks that he gave himself.

Because everyone else had damned him. Called him a criminal, a bad man.

He was anything but that.

He was just a man looking for peace. Peace that could only be achieved knowing he did not share the same world as the men who had damned him.

“Thank you, [Y/N],” he says gently, his eyes meeting yours as his thumb ran across the back of your hand.

You bite your bottom lip, springing up from your seat next to your bed to steal a hurried kiss from him. Only when he returned it is when your head finally connected to what you were doing and you pull away mere inches away.

“Stay here, please,” you ask of him.

He stays silent, his eyes glossing over the details of your face in thought. He leans up, pecking your lips twice before relaxing his head once more. “I will.”

__

Marvel tag list: @tsumethedrifter :|:  @sazafraz :|: @angelaiswriting (if you wish to be included in the tag list, please comment or message me!)

[nightshade-minho]

FireSable

[ the sequel to MoonStorm ]

Warnings: death, hyunjin exhibits yandere behavior, mentions of smut, suggestiveness, superhero reader, supervillain hyunjin.

Part 1: (MoonStorm) 

You twisted and turned, wide awake. You couldn’t fall asleep.

You’d woken up in your bed this morning, having no idea how you got there. The last thing you remember was falling asleep in Hyunjin’s arms, your pussy dripping with his cum.

You hadn’t moved out of your apartment all day, feeling as mindless as a zombie. You didn’t even bother turning on the news, because you knew your superhero alias would be referred to about a thousand times...and at the moment, you really didn’t feel like much of a hero.

You closed your eyes, willing yourself to sleep. It took about another hour for sleep to finally overtake your senses.

•••

You sat on the bench, reading your book in silence, headphones playing indie music in your ears.

Suddenly the book was ripped out of your hands, and you looked to your side only to see Hwang Hyunjin sitting there with a shit-eating grin on his face. You frowned.

“Give that back, Hyunjin!”

He raised his arm high, so that you couldn’t reach it. You leaned over, desperately trying to reach for the book, but ultimately failing.

“I hate you.” You mumbled under your breath, and he grabbed your chin, tilting it so that you were looking up at him. You made a face of mock anger, scrunching up your nose like a mad bunny, and his heart clenched with affection.

“Come on, you know that isn’t true. You love me.”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t.”

“You do.”

You didn’t deny it this time, leaning a little closer. Momentarily distracted, Hyunjin’s arm lowered a little, and you took the opportunity to snatch the book out of his hands.

He groaned.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You sneaky little shit.”

You winked.

•••

Two weeks had gone by, and you had tried your best to go about a normal life. Your suit lay forgotten in the back of your closet.

You had a coffee cup in your hands, walking back to your apartment and taking little sips as you strode along the street.

Perhaps trying to be a normal person for so long had really taken a toll on your superior reflexes, because you weren’t aware that you were being followed until you were pulled into an alley.

Before you finally regained your senses, and swung a fist back to punch, the man holding you took off his face mask.

You sighed as you stared into Hyunjin’s eyes, so close to yours as he pinned you against the wall.

“Seriously, can’t you leave me alone? I knew you staying quiet while I take some time for myself was short-lived.”

Hyunjin pushed his hair back, anger evident in his eyes.

“You didn’t come by last Friday, or the one before that. I tried my best to wait and give you some space, but I can’t. I fucking can’t.”

He leaned in to press his lips to yours feverishly, and you fought for all of a second before you gave in, pulling him closer with your arms around his neck.

He hooked an arm around your thigh, pulling it up and pressing his clothed crotch to yours, softly grinding as you let out a series of whimpers.

“Fuck. Let’s go back to my place, now.”

Your brain snapped back into attention and you pushed him away. He looked confused.

You collected yourself. Your lips were tingling delightfully and you were feeling a little woozy from the way he’d made you feel...but you steeled yourself.

“H-hyunjin...I can’t. I can’t do this anymore.”

He shook his head. “What do you mean? You will. You have to.”

You crossed your arms. “No. This is wrong...and I should have stopped it a long time ago.”

Hyunjin looked around, disbelief taking over his features. He scoffed, and looked back at you. “Y/n. You have no choice. Remember our agreement? You don’t wanna know what I’d do to this city if you left me.”

“Hyunjin, I’m not a fucking prostitute! I’m a superhero, and lately I don’t feel like one at all. Most superheroes fight their nemeses...I sell my body to him, suffering just so my city can be safe.”

There were tears prickling your eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. You remembered your dad’s face, telling you that he was proud of you for being bold, standing up and putting things right.

If only he could see you now. He’d kill himself with shame.

Hyunjin’s voice shook as he spoke. “So...”

You looked back up at him.

“So that’s it? That was the only reason you kept coming to my lair? You were ‘selling your body’ to me?”

There was hurt written across his face. You frowned. “Well...”

He clenched his hands into fists. “All that time, I was forcing you? You didn’t harbour any feelings whatsoever?”

“Hyunjin...”

He didn’t say anything. His glare was so icy that it cut through you. He turned...and in a second he was gone.

You leaned back against the wall, the tears finally spilling out. You cried for so long that the sun had set by the time you left that alley, trudging back to your dingy apartment for another sleepless night.

•••

You woke up to the smell of smoke. You shot up, scrambling off your bed and peering out of the window sill.

In the distance, you saw the smoke, billowing endlessly as the State Library burned.

You had a feeling that you knew just how that fire had come about. You felt like screaming in frustration as you bolted to your closet, digging around as you finally found your suit. Pulling it on hastily, you climbed out of the window, and quickly ran across the roofs of the buildings, hoping you would get there in time.

When you finally reached, you crouched so you could see just what was happening. A large crowd had gathered outside. No fire department in sight.

You felt helpless. What exactly were you supposed to do in this situation? For the first time in your life, you wished you had hydro-based powers instead.

You looked up and saw a full moon framed against the night sky.

Muttering under your breath, you jumped off the building, landing on the pavement gracefully.

You ignored the cheers and whistles caused by your arrival, making your way into the building with determination set in your eyes. Thankfully, it seemed like no one was left inside.

You found a staircase. The flames raged all around you, but you couldn’t have been bothered less. You quickly ran upstairs, making your way to the second floor.

There was a section off to the side of the second floor that housed books that were banned in other countries.

•••

You leaned against the bookshelf, flipping through a book that was apparently banned in 50 countries. You desperately tried to tune out the incessant whining beside you.

“I’m so boreddddd.” Hyunjin said.

“Well I didn’t force you to come here, so shut your trap.” You snapped, trying to focus on the words gracing the pages in front of you.

“Y/n, let’s do something else. Come on please, this is so mind-numbing. Why do you even wanna read these?” He picked a book and scoured through it.

“So these are all banned books?”

You nodded.

“Huh. You’d think that a banned book would be more interesting than this.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing the book out of his hands and observing it. It was a radical politics book.

“Well, in some countries the rules are a lot more stricter. Banned books aren’t all just satanic bibles.”

You turned back to the book that you’d been looking through before. “And to answer your earlier question...it gives me a little bit of a rush I guess. Knowing that this is something I’m not supposed to do, something I’d get punished for if I was in another countr- woah!”

Hyunjin had ripped the book out of your hands, pressing you to the bookshelf, body up against you.

“I can think of a few things we shouldn’t be doing right now...things which would get you punished.”

He leaned closer, nosing at your neck. You squeaked in shock as he pulled away to look at you with dark eyes.

“Unless you’d rather get punished by me than some random librarian.”

And with that, he brushed his lips against yours, kissing you passionately. You didn’t resist, kissing him back almost immediately. You opened your mouth slightly, letting him slide his tongue in.

Butterflies filled your stomach as his hand made his way under your shirt, sneaking up your bare skin as your breath hitched.

“Just what do you kids think you’re doing?”

You leaned away to see the strict librarian lady with her hands on her hips. “Out, now!”

You giggled as Hyunjin took your hand, pulling you as he ran.

•••

You walked between the bookshelves, flames licking at you as you passed. Standing at the end, you saw him.

He was in his supervillain get-up, his arms behind his back as he waited for you to get close enough to hear him.

“Firestorm. You’re here.”

“What the fuck, Hyunjin?!”

“Ah ah ah! It’s Moonsable.” His eyes were covered by his mask, but you saw his mouth twist into a smirk.

“Remember this place? We had our first kiss here.”

You wish you didn’t. You wish you didn’t remember the way it had made you feel when he’d put his arms around you, the fireworks that had gone off in your mind as he’d moved his lips against yours.

“Years later, here we are! How do you like my little idea? There’s nothing you can do to help in this case...your powers are utterly useless.”

“Hyunjin, you have to stop doing this. I’ll...do whatever you want. Anything. Just please...don’t hurt more innocent people.”

He rolled his eyes...or at least you thought he did, from his demeanor.

“No one was hurt. I made sure of that.”

“Then what was the point of all this?”

“To show you the lengths I would go for you. I’d set every building in this city on fire if I have to. Anything to prove to you what I feel.”

You felt your head hurt. “What do you feel, Hyunjin?” You asked, voice breaking. “Cause I truly can’t understand. If you felt anything for me, you wouldn’t do this. You wouldn’t go out of your way to make me utterly miserable.”

Hyunjin tilted his head. He didn’t say anything for a while. “Y/n...I just....I don’t know how to live without you.” His voice was quiet now, softer. “I don’t know how I’d go about my life without you in it. I go completely mad if I can’t see you even for a few days...never getting to see you again sounds horrific. Sometimes...you have to be prepared to take drastic measures.” You bowed your head, unable to speak. You didn’t know how to reply.

“Hyunjin...I miss you.”

“Huh?”

“I miss you. The person who was always there for me in the morning with a cup of coffee, the one who let me drag him to libraries even though he didn’t care for books. The one who was my friend.”

You walked a little closer. “The one who I lo...” you trailed off, not wanting to continue. “You’re not that person anymore. When I got back, I was expecting to see my best friend again...not a super-villain. I feel like...like I don’t even know you anymore.”

Suddenly, you heard sirens outside. Good. The fire department was here.

You turned to look at him. He was still frowning.

“Y/n, just know this. I’ll do anything to keep you beside me. Anything! And if I can’t have you, I’ll make sure no one can.”

You smiled sadly as you found a window to jump out of. “Friday. 8 PM.”

He watched as you disappeared into the night.

•••

As you made your way back, your mind was filled with conflicting thoughts...but one thought stood out brighter than the others.

It scared you.

The inbuilt radio in your suit crackled as a news reporter babbled on and on about your heroics. It irked you because you didn’t know if you deserved any of the praise.

As you reached your home, you saw the portrait in your living room of your family. You were sitting in between your parents, grinning toothily. Your dad gazed down at you, his eyes big and filled with hope and the surety that you would grow up to make him proud.

The tears came too easily these days.

•••

It was Friday, 8:10 PM. Hyunjin sat in his chair, his eyes glued onto the CCTV camera feedback as he waited for you to come.

He had been thinking a lot for the past few days. Thinking about how he was in love with you, and couldn’t ever be without you. He needed you to be in his life forever...the words you’d almost said at the burning library had told him that you might actually return his feelings after all.

Hyunjin spun around in his chair, closing his eyes as he fantasized about a future with you. A future in which the two of you would move to another country, one which has never even heard of a Firestorm or Moonsable. The two of you would get a big house, maybe one on the beach.

He imagined you with a swollen belly, the mother of his baby. The image of a tiny baby boy with his eyes and your nose. He imagined him to have his father’s charisma and his mother’s strength and determination. Would the baby also inherit his parents’ powers?

Hyunjin’s mind conjured up a starry night sky with a bright moon. You were both on the balcony, kissing under the stars, your son safely tucked in his crib.

Minutes later, he realized he was crying. Just thinking about being with you forever filled the empty hole in his heart that he’d hoped he could fill by committing crimes and being feared.

That was it. He was going to change...for you. He would never commit a crime ever again, and he would properly confess to you tonight. He’d tell you how happy you made him, how ‘forever’ with you was all he wanted...and that he wanted to make it work.

•••

A second later, the door burst open and you were walking over to him.

“Y/n...” he started to speak, but was cut off by you climbing onto his lap and pressing your lips to his, effectively shutting him up. His hands naturally went around your waist, melting into the kiss. You slipped your tongue into his mouth, kissing him passionately.

He hugged you close as you moved your lips to his cheek, then to his forehead. You pressed your lips to his other cheek, and finally came back down to his lips. His hand came up to cradle your cheek and you nuzzled into it, eyes staring into his.

“Baby...” he whispered against your mouth as he thrusted up slightly, making you moan as you felt yourself lose control. You shook your head, trying to keep a clear and focused mind so you could do what you came here to do.

“Y/n...there’s something I need to tell y-“

Blinding pain.

It took him a few seconds to realize what had happened.

He looked at your face, streaked with tears as you burst out crying, your face wrecked with emotion as Hyunjin’s gaze drifted to the knife stuck in his chest.

The world slowed down for a moment. The pain caused by the knife was not nearly as hurtful as the tears that were running down you as you pressed your face to the other side of his chest, your hand clutching on to his shirt. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

•••

Hyunjin smiled as he let his fingers ghost over your cheek. You were lying in his bed in his dorm, his roommate having gone out to spend the night with his girlfriend. In a few days, you were set to move across the country, for a job opportunity that you would be stupid to pass up.

“You’re my best friend, Y/n. I’m really going to miss you.”

“We’ve kissed too many times to keep calling ourselves that. But it’s true, Hyunjin. You’re my best friend too. And don’t worry, I’ll call!”

He chuckled as he let his finger drag down your cheek, down to your neck.

“I don’t even know what we are at this point. But we’re next to each other. We have each other right now, and that’s all that matters.”

You giggled before quickly pressing a kiss to his lips and pulling back. “Yup! Best friends for eternity.”

He stuck out his pinkie, waving it in your face. “Pinkie promise that you’ll stay with me forever. That we’ll never abandon each other.”

You linked your pinkie with his.

“Promise.”

•••

“Y/n...” He chuckled painfully. “You always...” He groaned. The blood was seeping out at a steady pace, soaking both of your suits.

“You always find a way to surprise me.”

You brushed the tears away. “I had to...I had to do this.” You sounded like you were trying to convince yourself rather than him.

“You were getting out of control. I couldn’t stand by and watch as you destroyed the city I love.”

It was getting harder for him to breathe. He wanted to tell you...even if he was dying, he wanted to let you know how he felt. But talking was too difficult.

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, leaning back and biting your lip. There was pure agony carved in your heart. The world felt like it had lost all colour.

“I love you, Hwang Hyunjin. We’ll meet again, one day...and circumstances will be different.”

The last thing Hyunjin thought of before the world went black was a little boy with his eyes and your nose, a shelf stacked with banned books...and a broken promise.

[hallowed-be-thy-username]

Clothing Is Custom, No Labels: Part One

“No matches on prints, DNA, dental. Clothing is custom, no labels. Nothing in his pockets but knives and lint. No name, no other alias.”

Summary: You’re one of the last bespoke tailors in town, making suits and custom clothing for Gotham’s elite. Business men and women, well known lawyers, the Wayne family, and... the Joker?

Genre: Self-insert

Pairing: Ledger!Joker x fem reader 

Warnings: Some cursing

Word count: 1,667

Authors Note: Here comes part one! I recommend reading the Introduction first if you haven’t 💜

Inspirational Music: Beat the Devil’s Tattoo by Black Rebel Motorcycle Club

                                    - Part One -

Sleep did not come easily to you last night. You tossed and turned, worry about this cryptic meeting flooding your dreams and stirring you awake throughout the night. The lack of good sleep left you feeling hazy and distracted. So hazy that you didn’t see the uneven patch of sidewalk beneath your feet. Your hands shot out in front of you to catch yourself, the rough pavement scraping your palms.

You huffed as you stood up and brushed off your sore hands on your pants. Fucking sidewalk. You pass that patch of sidewalk every day and every day, you walk around it. But not today. Today has decided to be different.

Your keys jingled as you unlocked the back door to the shop, yawning with coffee in hand. It was going to be rough, staying here late tonight. After you opened the front curtains and switched on the lights, you reached behind the desk to turn the news on in the background while you readied the shop to open.

“Several Gotham city banks have been robbed within the last week. This string of robberies has left many dead on the scene at each location, all of whom are assumed to be accomplices, as reported by eye witnesses. If that wasn’t strange enough, all of them have been wearing clown masks,” you heard the GCN anchor say from your little tv.

What did he just say? You left the mannequin you were preparing to dress in the window and took long strides back to the desk.

“It is estimated that over sixty million dollars has been stolen thus far. Police have had few leads as their investigation continues but one man appears to be the driving force behind the robberies. Gotham PD has released this photo, captured by security cameras at Gotham National Bank just yesterday,” the anchor continued before an image flashed on the screen.

Your eyes widened and your breath hitched in your throat at the sight of a man in ghostly white makeup with black around his eyes, a blood red smile over his lips and two jagged scars curling up from both corners of his mouth, staring straight at the camera.

“Nothing else is known about this man other than that he goes by the alias, ‘the Joker’, leaving a Joker playing card behind at many of the crime scenes. If you have any information on the man pictured, please contact the anonymous tip line listed at the bottom of your screen.”

You switched the tv off, a shiver running down your spine. That image was burned into your eyes, as clear as it was on the screen moments ago. You blinked a few times but it was still there, staring at you. The Joker. Those eyes just gazed straight through the screen and locked with yours. It was unsettling but you couldn’t help but feel something else. Overwhelming curiosity. Who was this guy? Why did he paint his face? Where did he even come from? This was the first you’d heard of him. Not to mention those scars. Flesh viciously sliced apart, torn clean through, leaving behind a macabre permanent smile. A strange feeling tugged at your stomach as you thought about the pain he must have felt. They were so… terrifying.

The sound of the door opening jolted you out of your trance as you jumped and whipped around to face the door.

“Oh, sorry about that. Didn’t mean to scare you. Where do you want me to leave these?”

A delivery guy stood just inside the doorway with a handcart stacked with boxes. You shook your head and answered with an embarrassed smile, “It’s ok, I guess I’m a little jumpy today. You can leave them anywhere back there, thanks.”

You pointed toward the back room and he nodded on his way to drop them off. Shit, maybe you shouldn’t drink that coffee.

The afternoon crawled by at a frustratingly sluggish pace. The ticking of time made you impatient for the day to be done but simultaneously anxious about the very same idea. A particularly needy woman with perfume that burned your nose picked up an altered dress and a man looking to get his pants hemmed to fit his unfortunately short stature took up some of your time but it was still an hour before closing time. Your stomach fluttered for a second. Tonight it wasn’t really closing time. You decided to preoccupy yourself with a book you’d meaning to read, sitting down and leaning back in your chair, getting comfortable at the desk. Maybe you’d run out to grab a bite to eat soon.

Your eyelids flew open as you suddenly awoke with a start. The shop was dark. You scrambled from your chair to find the clock, grabbing it from the counter and turning it around. 9:40 pm.

Your heart started pounding in your chest, the meeting with your new mystery client was dangerously close. You cursed under your breath and rushed to close the front curtains, hoping to avoid anyone else trying to come in. It was a miracle you weren’t robbed in the first place.

Reality rushed over you and your hands started to shake with unease. Why were you so nervous? Well, this has never happened to you before. Men bringing you that much money ahead of time, in cash no less. Asking, no, telling you to stay open late for them. It was just weird. Weird in a way that made the little hairs on the back of your neck stand up. And now it was here.

A few deep breaths did something to calm your nerves a bit, at least until the hands on the clock reached 9:58. 

Headlights illuminated the maroon velvet curtains over the windows, sending your heart rate soaring once again. He’s here.

Suddenly, an urge to hide made your legs twitch as you stood in front of the desk but you resisted it, fighting to keep yourself from running to the back room. Your heart continued to pound and was joined by a shudder down your spine as you caught sight of two silhouettes, figures cast in shadow over the curtains that were moving toward the door.

You held your breath when the door opened. It was the bald man from yesterday. He made eye contact with you and blinked. You tensed up, waiting for him to say something, but instead he let go of the door to disappear back outside.

What?

Before you could react, the door opened again and a different man stepped into the shop.

You halted in place, staring at him. His hair was stringy and tinted green. His face. His face was covered with a layer of white paint, black smeared around his eyes, that devilish red smile that had been floating around in the back of your mind all day. It was him.

You couldn’t move. You willed your body to do something, anything other than stare at the man with the Glasgow smile in front of you. But that’s all you could do. Blood rushed in your ears as you stood there, trapped in your own body, for what felt like far too long.

He took a few steps toward you, thawing your muscles instantly for you to back up and bump into the desk, your eyes still on him.

“What’s the matter, hm? You look nervous. Is it the scars?” he spoke as he gestured toward his face.

His voice was peculiar. Somewhat high and nasally but deep and gravelly at the same time.

Your mouth opened to speak before you had any words in mind to say. “Uh, um. N-no. I, um, I just recognized you from the, the news,” you sputtered, trying not to visibly tremble.

His eyebrows shot up and he grinned as he replied, “Ahhh, little old me? Well I’m, uh, flatter-ed.”

The only thing you could do was nod as you continued to gaze wide-eyed at him, your hands gripping the edge of the desk behind you like a vice. The way he pronounced words was hypnotizing. They were spoken so deliberately, so carefully chosen.

“Well, as much as I’d love to continue with this, uh, ban-ter of ours, I believe you can make me a suit, yes?” he continued.

You suddenly stiffened to attention after his statement registered in your mind, your already hammering heart flipping uncomfortably in your chest.

“Oh, um, yes. Y-yes I can,” you managed to stutter.

He clapped his hands together, making you jump slightly. “Fan-tastic! Shall we?” he said enthusiastically, extending his arm out toward the mirrored area of the shop.

He waited a moment for you to move, only to watch you continue to stare like an antelope caught in a  lion’s gaze before flicking his tongue out over his scarred lip and sauntering over on his own.

Deep breaths. You took deep breaths, so quickly that they were making you nauseous. You had to try to relax. What if you made him angry? He’s killed people. What would he do if you messed up? It’s too late to back out. You swallowed hard against the lump growing in your throat. You can do this, you can do this, you can do this…

He started thumbing through the books of fabric swatches on the nearby table, scrutinizing each with his eyes and occasionally raising an eyebrow as you slowly approached with pins and needles buzzing in your hands. He suddenly flicked one of the books shut and raised his eyes to meet yours once again, making you stop in your tracks and hold back a gasp.

“Now, what do I call you, doll?” he asked, his dark eyes fixed on yours.

Your words tumbled out, responding all on their own, “Y/N.”

His gaze had captured you again and this time it was drawing you in. The room around you seemed to dissolve and all you could focus on were his spellbinding eyes.

“Y/N, call me Joker,” he purred.

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

@amethystmoonprincess @call-me-harley-quinn @paev 💜

[desire-tenderness]

I will return to old Brazil

I’m three weeks away in New York on a laser and independence trip, I miss home. It’s only two days away and soon I’m back in Brazil to meet my family and friends. I was taking the opportunity to organize some of the things, like some clothes and documents, that’s when I missed my passport. “Where did it go, my God?! My credit card was on the cover. I’ve turned this apartment upside down and can’t find it anywhere. There’s no way I lost! This shit only happens to me. I only have two more days stay in this Irbnb, how will I solve the problem of passport loss in two days without my credit card!? I don’t have a penny more.” [ranting, going into outbreak] “OK, relax, I’m smart! I need to raise money for at least another day or two, I have enough for daily meals. Well, didn’t I want to experience something unique and inspiring? Here’s a chance to have a tragic story to tell and laugh at later.” [I thought out loud]  “I can manage as a street performer, starting tomorrow. I take my ukulele and some blank sheets of paper and make illustrations of pedestrians, I hope to reap the benefits of that. The last place I remember seeing my passport was yesterday when I was at the MoMA. Now I need to go back there and hope that I find in the "lost and found" of the place.” [The next day] I woke up early today and I’m already on my way to Central Park, hoping to find a space on Bethesda Terrace to play. The first time I went I saw a young man playing the cello so beautifully, it made me overflow with emotion. I played some songs, I noticed that I had a very positive return looking at the cover of Ukulele, I was curious to tell how much money I had made with those 5 songs played. It’s quite amazing the satisfaction of playing there, people seem to want to hear me play. I thought of ending with Naive - The Kooks and so I did. - I'm not saying it was your fault Although you could have done more Oh, you're so naïve, yet so..   {music}

Soon formed a circle of people singing together, I was shivered, did not imagine that The Kooks still had an audience. A little girl left $16 on the cover of the instrument, it made me float. With less than a minute to go, I saw a wonderfully attractive boy, at least 15 feet away, "do I know you?" I thought while I messed up a song. At the end of the last song I thanked him and forced my eyes to reach the boy again, but he was no longer there. The minute I thanked her, the same little girl started pulling a leather saying "one more, one more". I didn’t have a repertoire anymore and I couldn’t think of anything. The sky was with an attractive texture and the climate had a palette of color that sent me the song Postcards From Italy - Beirut and without thinking too much about whether or not it made sense for the moment, I started playing and singing. As I played, I closed my eyes to feel the instrumental climax of the song that was approaching. And when I opened my eyes the same boy I saw from afar was standing in front of me watching my show. Who was he? Timothée Chalamet. My whole body was frozen with the fright, but I didn’t want to leave anything evident. If I showed my anxiety, that space would turn into an afternoon of autographs and I don’t want to take your time. Did he give me money? The cover of the instrument had received more notes of paper, but for being with eyes closed I could not see. He smiled and nodded, turned away. I kept silent. Second then I hurried thanking everyone for my return, guarding my instrument and taking my bag. I run after him. - Hey! Timo! He turned at the same second, confused, trying to find who called him. He must have noticed me tightening my stride to get close to him as soon as possible. - Hi! Our is a pleasure, I can’t believe it’s really you. I let you go so you wouldn’t make a big deal out of it, but I needed to talk to you and thank you for listening to me play and a lot of other stuff. Sorry, I’m talking too much, all right? I spoke so fast that I hardly breathed. He laughed. - Hi, Beirut, huh? It goes well with today’s weather. It was nice! Am I well and you? Alias, your name? - Do you like Beirut? Gee. My name is (xxxx) but it doesn’t matter now. - Yes, you do. Are you from New York? - No, I come from Brazil. I’m traveling.. The words were disappearing from my mind as the minutes passed, I was somewhat hypnotized. - Cool! I really want to see Brazil someday. Do you want a photo? - Man I want a photo yes. I never thought that moment would be here and now. We took the photo, he thanked me for coming to him and for me playing with such emotion. He finally said that it was "very harmonious". And with a lot of pain in my heart I let him go. "Gee, I met Timothée chalamet two days before returning to Brazil! I must confess that fate has killed, just bring my passport back." [I thought out loud] Arriving at the Moma I received the terrible news that my passport was not there, it was my only hope going down the drain. I wanted to cry out of desperation, but I was also totally happy to have met Timothée and to have taken a picture that I will keep for the rest of my life. "I wish I’d been calmer and sane, I guess I just thought I was crazy. I hope he hasn’t noticed my despair, anxiety and complete fascination. Well, back to what I need to focus on.. Do I get some freelance work at some designer studio? Well, it could be a coffee shop. " The day has gone by so fast, the clock is almost 4:00 p.m. I think I’ll have a cup of coffee and a bite to eat, and I’ll get a job, if that’s not too embarrassing. I thought I’d walk around the West Village and find some cool coffee over there. Said and done, I found a coffee visibly attractive and had a delicious smell coming out the door, but it was empty. I think this is the perfect opportunity for a presentation, so I’m gonna eat something first. I ordered a latte and a lobster, one of my favorite treats. That crispy puff pastry, filled with vanilla cream, caramel and flor de sal makes me roll my eyes. I ate with such desire that I began to remember how surprising my day was. I thought I would make an illustration of the Timothée, a drawing of how I met him, the ambience was delicious to draw in peace and so I did. I noticed that someone came through the cafeteria door, I heard the sound of the door open. It was him, he was again in the same environment as me. The coincidence was so much that I could hardly believe it, I kept my calm. He sat across the room, pretended not to see it.

On the local radio started playing First date - Blink, obviously I started singing and trying to finish my drawing as soon as possible, who knows he could see before going. "Lets go! Don’t Wait! this night’s Almost over Honest, Let’s make this night last Forever' {Music} Suddenly someone came to my table and put a glass of Vanilla Malt and a snack with a great smell. When I looked up he completed the harmony. - Forever and Ever, Let’s make this last Forever. Hi again! "Are you kidding that this is really happening? And if it is not? Well, I will act as if I were dreaming, I can do better in this communication" - I don’t believe it. This is crazy, what are you doing here at my table?! - Would you like me to leave? - You’re crazy, of course not, sit down, please! - So, what are you doing? Wait, that’s... that’s me?! Fuck!  [He pointed to the drawing] - hãnn yes, look.. this coincidence I will never live again. Now in my head I go through a cruel dilemma. - Which would it be? Excuse me. [He took the marvelous drawing and took a photo] - Should I finish it and give it to you, or should I ask for an autograph and frame it? - Hmm look.. my autograph is nothing, I would ruin the drawing, but it’s so awesome, I would love it if it was mine, but I took a picture, it’s worth the frame! - Arranged, Mr. Chalamet. I told him about my passport drama and how distressed I was. His face of "Holy shit, I’m sorry, you’ll have a headache" didn’t help. But he offered me real help with this red tape. "Does that mean I’ll see you beyond today?!" - Okay, you’re tense. Let’s break the ice by relaxing with a theatrical technique. I say a word, you think fast and say the first one that pops into your head. -Okay... Can I get started? [What’s going on here? ] -Yes, of course, yes! - Silver - Gold - Desire - Fire - Friend - you - Call me by your name - And I call you by mine. Oh shit! [laughed with his hand in his mouth] - That’s pretty cool hahaha let me ask. What are you going to do now? I’m really surprised to see you "living normally" - It is sometimes I get this feat. But anyway, I have no plans. - Do you want to go to the street cinema and see what classic is going on today? - My God, yes I am, thank you for the suggestion. We left the cafeteria and I didn’t ask for a job, I don’t regret it, my day is being fucking awesome. We went to the cinema of East Village and Singing in the rain was on display, that was perfect! I’ll watch one of my favorite movies with Timothée, it’s the fourth time I’ve pinched myself and I notice it’s not a dream. This day cannot end. We took the tickets and entered without him being stopped or recognized, I was relieved. And sitting next to him in a movie theater, all I could think about was how I wanted to be able to take his hand, kiss it as classically as the movie we’re watching. He made a story, I’m dying to open my phone and see, knowing that I’m next to him and nobody else but me and he knows, fuck!

At the end of the movie we came out, another coincidence or not, it was raining. I had my instrument and drawing sheets in my purse, but I wanted to literally sing in the rain, only without an umbrella. I dropped everything on the stairs and called him into this brief shower of rain. EPIC. I danced and sang in the rain with Timothée Chalamet and he seems absurdly happy about it.

We end with: "Come on with the Rain I have a Smile on my face I walk down the Lane With a happy refrain Just Singin', Singin' in the Rain" - Do you fancy a bagel or something? - I’m in! Tompkins? - Sure, and you have better? I answer, no way. - That’s so sweet, come on! And so we continued, hungry, laughing and wet. I think he appreciates moments like this, you can see in his eyes extreme pleasure and relief, that’s beautiful. The hunger was so great that we ate 3 bagels with bacon, eggs and cheese. We were wet so we ordered for the trip and ate outside. During the final bites we’ll talk about my passport again. - Where was the last time you saw him and when did you realize he was gone? - The last time was in Moma, the day before yesterday. But I went back there and they did not find.. I realized last night when I was starting to leave part of the suitcases ready to "go back to Brazil tomorrow". - Have you looked in the pockets of the clothes you wore when you went to Moma? - I looked at that jacket 10 times and I couldn’t find it. - Why do you think it’s in my jacket? I always carry a full pair of pants. - My God this is so obvious! I took the laundry to the building, if it is there I owe you my life. - Stop it. Can I go with you and film you finding your passport? [He laughed] - That if I find, will know a mix of relief, gratitude and anger. [laughs together] - Come on.

Yes, my passport and credit card were always "with me", were in the inside pocket of the pants as he had said. I was about to explode with relief!

I was ready to corrupt the good impression made during the day, but I was so excited and happy that I jumped in his lap grabbing his neck and kissing his cheeks.

He was silent as he stared at me confused as he held my thighs around his waist. I felt his breath on my neck, I didn’t want to leave, but I needed to.

- I’m sorry, really, I’m just happy. Thank you. - Don’t worry, it’s fine. I’m glad you found it. Do you still want that autograph? - Of course! [ He signed my drawing and took another picture of it, but this time with me holding the art. ]

- Sing one last song before I go. - My God that hard, I don’t know. Huh.. Sing with me? - If I know. Then I started singing Marvin Gaye’s Ain’t No Mountain High Enough, he seemed surprised. "Just call my name I’ll be there in a Hurry You don’t have to Worry'Cause, baby, there Ain’t no mountain high enough Ain’t no Valley low enough Ain’t no river wide enough To Keep me from Getting to you, baby" We laughed and finished. I was almost crying. Shame, I’m not a child. - So that’s it, I will be eternally grateful for today. Thank you and good luck girl, it was a pleasure. He turned and opened the door, waved his hand. And I recited.. "Now, when Twilight dims the sky above Recalling Thrills of our love There’s one Thing I’m Certain of I will Return to old Brazil" He smiled and came back to me, kissing my forehead. - Until one day, anywhere in the world. - See you, Timolito. He came out and I cried. {This is a fanfic. All I write about is my feelings and desires. TEXT BY: L.M }

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“Wet Sugar” [Part 29 of 30]

Summary: Erik and the merc head over to do the London heist and Yani accepts new gifts...

"The brotha's got this complex occupation The brotha's got this complex occupation The brotha's got this complex occupation

Me and this baby gon' be up all night long Walkin' this wood flo' 'til my man gets home I'm at the front do', I'm listening by the phone But I'm gon' be here with my make-up on It's been a long time since my man been gone But when he get here, you know I won't be gone Because I love him, love him strong Me and this baby gon' be up all night long…"

Erykah Badu—"Danger"

Erik wiped down the modified BCM Reece 14 KMR-A. It was an expensive AR-15. He added an M203 grenade launcher with vibranium alterations. The weapon was a polished obsidian dream in his hands. He had to be prepared for the Black Panther. His own blood relative. Tainted blood.

Linda sat across from him cleaning the other weapons they were bringing with them to Korea. The closer they got to their departure date, the more serious she became. He still found it excruciating to be near her, but he treated her like he treated his past military unit that he hated, just neutral all the way.

Klaue walked into the den a watched them prepare the weaponry. Erik took that moment to grab some papers he held in a folder.

"I need you to sign these so I can get the Cessna."

"Seventy-Five thousand?" Klaue groaned.

"I can get you a new one for Three-Hundred Thousand. It's your money."

"Fine, fine."

Klaue used his alias and didn't even look at the paperwork. Just signed where Erik told him to sign and picked up the AR-15 from the work table.

"You missed your calling. You could make a killing modifying weapons full time."

"I'd get bored too quick."

Klaue's eyes looked past him and onto the viewscreen above the fireplace. He turned up the volume. Erik and Linda stared at it with him.

A weather report indicated the return of the hurricane season. And a large category 4 was headed for the islands along the Atlantic.

"I'm sure you battened down the hatches in St. Thomas, Killmonger?"

"Lock stock and barrel."

At last. A tell on Linda's face. A faint blink of her eyes. Erik caught her eyes with his as she picked up another weapon to clean.

"Looks like it'll be a bad one. Hope Our Lady is prepared for it. One of the pitfalls of island life."

Erik felt his midsection tighten. The last hurricane season had been a lucky one. He wiggled his fingers and kept the focus on the radar images and the predicted touch down points. He'd keep an eye on it. Climate change had made life tricky for people globally. It concerned Erik, but he pressed on and picked up a new weapon to inspect and clean.

Linda stared at him and his face felt open and vulnerable with worry. He looked away from her.

###

"Jesus, you can't be still can yuh?"

Yani pressed her hand into her side. The baby was moving too much for her to get fully comfortable. She sat with her legs lifted up with an ottoman in Twyla's house. Boxes stood unopened around her and she was pleased with the one small box she was able to unpack.

Moving in with Twyla had been a sound financial decision. Her lease to the apartment had become month to month, and Nannette was able to find a new roommate easily. Yani's rent money would help pay Twyla's mortgage, and in exchange, Twyla was able to work fewer hours at her job and watch Sydette so Yani could continue taking summer classes with a full course load. She didn't let her pregnancy stop her from finishing up a summer session. Her medical plans were revamped to include an additional two years to finish her degree. Her mind was set on getting into a residency program by the time the new baby was three. Her grades were exceptional but more important than school-Sydette becoming herself again.

The new baby seemed to focus her daughter's anxiety and fears, and Sweet Pea blossomed once more, so excited to welcome the new dumpling.

"Be still, just for fifteen minutes, please," Yani said to her already big tummy.

Sydette ran over to her and patted her stomach.

"Go to sleep," Sydette said.

"Listen to Sweet Pea, Dumplin'."

"Mama, yuh feet so big."

"A little swelling, love."

Sydette rubbed Yani's left foot.

"Fatty feet!" Sydette giggled.

"You gave me fat feet when you were in mi belly."

"No, I didn't!" Sydette said with a smirk on her face.

"Yeah, yuh did."

The doorbell rang and Yani didn't feel like getting up from her seat.

"Get the door, Sweet Pea. Ask who it is."

Sydette ran to the door.

"Who is it? What yuh want?"

"Sydette—"

"Your Daddy."

Sydette's face beamed.

"Can you twist the button?"

"Yes, Mama. I can do it."

The main bolt on the door was left unlocked for Twyla, but Sydette was able to turn the bottom lock.

Chez stepped into the room and scooped Sydette up in his arms.

"Detty!"

Chez tickled her stomach and Sydette laughed and tried to keep his hands from tickling her further.

"Her bag is by the door," Yani said trying to get up,

"Stay where you are. I got it," he said.

Picking up Sydette's weekend bag, Chez walked near Yani.

"You look big, gyal."

"Thanks, a lot," she said.

"I'm teasing. I'll bring her back early on Sunday."

"Okay."

"Twyla home?"

"No. She'll be back in a few hours? Why?"

"I know she's looking for a car. Wanted to see if she'd want mine."

"You selling it? Thought you loved that car."

Chez put Sydette down and raised up Yani's feet as he sat on the ottoman. He rested her legs on his lap and rubbed her feet for her.

"I'm moving to Florida. Found a good-paying factory job. Good hours. I can still make music. Perform in Miami and on the East coast. It's too expensive to ship my car over. Cheaper to get another car later when I get settled. Money will be tight for a couple of months, but I'll get Sydette's child support to you as soon as can. I have a better shot there."

Yani glanced over at Sydette who held the straps to her weekend bag on her shoulders.

"When are you leaving?"

"Next month."

Yani felt her forehead.

"You should have told us sooner, Chez."

"I just got the call. I have to go where the money is, gyal. You know that. I stay here and you'll bust my ass for not having my full child support."

He held his hands out for Sydette and she skipped over to him and rested her chest on Yani's legs.

"I'm sorry I won't be here to take Detty on the weekends. I can send for her with my sister and keep her at the end of the year once I'm settled—"

"No, this new one will be here then and I need my girl with me."

Yani scratched her belly. Chez stared at her hand.

"Ooh," Yani sighed while shifting her legs on Chez.

"Kicking?"

"Too much," she said.

Yani took in Chez's face. He looked hopeful. Ready to test his wings away from the island. It was bad enough having Sydette lose Killmonger. Now she was losing her biological father to distance and a chance at a better life.

"We will miss you," she said.

Chez's eyes seemed to spark at her words. She saw his eyes well up and she was surprised to see him cover his face with his hand.

"Chez," she whispered.

Sydette crawled up onto Yani's legs and touched her father's face.

"I'm alright Detty," he said lifting her weight off of Yani.

Yani moved her legs from the ottoman and rubbed Chez's back.

"I'm okay, Yani. You ready, Detty?"

"Yes!"

Chez stood with Sydette in his arms. Yani picked up her daughter's bag and handed it back to him.

"We'll talk later, yeah?" Yani said.

"I'll call you next week with more information. I'll be staying with my Uncle until I get my own place there. Say bye, Detty!"

"Bye, Mama."

"Give me kiss."

Sydette leaned over and kissed her on the lips.

"Give Dumplin a kiss."

Chez held Sydette upside down as peals of laughter erupted from her. She kissed Yani's belly.

Watching her daughter leave with Chez, Yani thought of how life changed in the blink of an eye all the time. She rested a hand on her stomach as she stood in the doorway tracking Chez helping Sydette into his car.

"Bye!" Sydette called while waving her hand.

"Bye, Sweet Pea. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

When they left, Yani stood and let the sun warm her face. The baby tumbled and then seemed to settle.

"I wish your daddy was here, Dumplin."

Patting her belly, Yani closed the door trying her best not to dwell on Killmonger for too long.

###

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Fuck!

Sitting at a table inside a small Swedish café waiting for a sandwich and some decent coffee, Erik's eyes were glued to the tablet in his hand.

"Holy shit," Klaue said staring at Erik's device.

Other people in the café were staring at cell phones or their computers.

Erik couldn't believe it and he felt a cold dragging on his stomach.

He was already agitated watching King T'Chaka receive praise for his rousing speech giving support to signing the Sokovia Accords. The Avengers had made a deadly mess in Nigeria and over one hundred nations decided they needed to be regulated and controlled, and King T'Chaka's words were splashed all over the press. Public and private superheroes and other enhanced humans had to come forward and be counted, tracked, and given permission to act for good in the future. Erik was sure more vigilantes would break out, but he didn't give a fuck because Wakanda was the only thing he wanted. Once he had his father's nation in his hand, he would blow all these enhanced fools out of the water. Take them out if they couldn't bow down to him.

All Erik wanted to do was eat the perfect open-faced smoked-salmon sandwich and spend time out of the house and away from Linda and Limbano. He hadn't planned on watching his Uncle speak at the Vienna International Centre until Klaue told him that the King of Wakanda was on tv.

Regal, gray-haired, with glasses that gave him a gentle grandfatherly look, T'Chaka Udaku told the world how Ultron stole their vibranium and how his country would not stand by and let injustices continue.

The fucking audacity.

And just like that, Erik and the world watched the room explode and the cameras cut to news footage outside. Erik wanted to yell and jammed his nails into his hands to keep himself in his seat as he saw his grip on justice slip from his fingers.

Klaue's face was stuck in the firm grip of shock.

"This is going to change some things, Killmonger," Klaue said.

Words and images flew online fast and the explosion was quickly labeled a terrorist attack.

"There will be a lot of dead in that room, mate."

Rooted in his seat, it was confirmed soon enough.

King T'Chaka Udaku was dead.

Erik stormed out of the café and walked aimlessly through the street for half an hour. His personal cell blew up and when he looked to see who it was, he answered it.

"Uncle Bakari."

"Have you heard?"

"Yes."

"Are you alright? Where are you?"

Erik stopped walking and let the familiar sound of home focus him.

"I'm in Europe now. Saw the news in a café."

"How are you feeling, Nephew?"

"I don't feel nothin'…nothin' at all."

His Uncle knew he was lying. Erik's voice sounded heavy. Brittle.

"Erik…that was your Uncle, your father's brother—"

"That man ain't shit to me!"

People walking past Erik moved around him quickly because of his tone. He headed back to the café.

"I gotta go," Erik said.

"Call me later…if you want to talk. Shavonne and I are here for you."

"Okay."

Erik swiped his phone and he checked his other cell. Two texts from Klaue.

"Hey man, I'm heading back to the café. Had to take a call from home."

"I thought you were taking this explosion a little too hard, mate," Klaue said.

"Like you said, changes some things, but we'll work around it."

"I had the shop put your food in a to-go box. I'm heading back to the house. See you there."

"Cool."

Erik ignored the café and kept walking. His left hand pressed against the left side of his waist in the space he had saved to carve King T'Chaka into his skin. Stolen from him. Whoever the fuck killed his Uncle would feel his wrath eventually, but now Erik had to deal with T'Challa taking the throne.

Erik halted.

His cousin would have to take his father's body back to Wakanda. That would end all of his travels for the next few months. He'd be where Erik wanted him to be. Birnin Zana. The golden city. The terrorists had cheated Erik of one Udaku, but they had also made his endgame easier so he could have the other one. Losing his father in a violent way would have T'Challa rattled, he was sure of that. Erik knew what that felt like. A rattled King would also be a weak King. A distracted King. One who could easily be beaten.

Erik still felt a heaviness in his chest. There was fiery anger there. Something was stolen from him once more. King T'Chaka had escaped his due punishment and it sucked the energy out of Erik. When he returned to their hideout, he climbed the stairs ignoring everyone else and went to his room, throwing himself on his bed. His mind wouldn't let his body rest and he stayed up all night clenching and unclenching his fists. He tugged on the silver chain around his neck until his fingers clasped onto his father's ring.

###

The museum added additional security two days before the opening of the African Antiquities exhibit.

Linda was able to get a job as a barista there and spent a day walking the entire museum taking more secretive photos to make sure nothing had changed since Erik had surveyed it the previous year. She kept her eye on the lead curator, a grim-lipped white woman with an elitist attitude toward employees.

They hid in a flat less than a mile away from the museum. Erik planned logistics with Klaue and Limbano was able to locate a decommissioned ambulance for cheap purchase from a scrapyard. He also procured EMT uniforms for himself and Klaue.

"That woman is a fucking tyrant!"

Linda stormed into the apartment carrying take out from the corner pub. She went into her bedroom and changed clothes before rushing back out to finish her rant.

"I have never met a person with a stick so far up their ass—"

"Cutthroat museum director getting your dander up again?" Klaue heckled.

Erik and Klaue watched her fume near the window.

"She just does shit to pick on people…for no reason! Every fucking day she gets the same coffee from my section. We know how to make her beverage because she instructs us explicitly down to the most finite detail…and yet…it's never the right way. She's just contrarian for shits and giggles. Jesus, I don't know how regular people can take that day after day."

"But she always comes to you, right?" Erik asked.

"Yeah."

Erik stood up and walked over to her. Reaching into his pocket he handed her a small plastic two-inch bag. A yellowish-white powder sat inside of it.

"What is this meth?" Linda joked.

"On D-Day, put this in her coffee cup. Don't touch it with your hands."

"Fast-acting?"

"Nah. Slow burn. Timing is everything. The moment she sips, you hit me up."

Linda pocketed the poison and grabbed her take out container. She scarfed down a sausage sandwich.

"The plane is ready for Busan," Erik said.

"Limbano will take it over and secure housing," Klaue said.

"I have enough surveillance footage looped. Their security is very sensitive, so you will have a little over an hour to get in and out without them suspecting anything on their feed," Linda said.

Klaue stared at his phone.

"I'm trying to get some intel on Jo'Burg, but Huntsman has been avoiding me," he said.

Another tell.

Linda took a large bite of her sandwich and then wiped her lips as she stared at Klaue attempting to contact the dead merc. There was a lack of confidence in her eyes. A hint of…worry? When she stopped looking at Klaue her eyes darted up and Erik stood in front of her with a can of beer in his hand.

"Maybe he has another gig that he can't get out of," Erik said.

Linda's face froze, but then she reached for the beer and took it from him. He reached into her take-out container and grabbed a few fried chips. Popping them in his mouth, he kept his gaze on her, until she stood up to throw away her empty container.

"Well I need him," Klaue said.

Linda left the room and Erik turned on his laptop and studied the museum layout. The moment Linda fed the poison to the curator, Erik would have to maneuver himself into the exhibit hall, find the vibranium, and make sure the curator stayed near him. Reconnaissance video showed that she hovered throughout the space ninety-percent of the time, and if she was anal about her coffee, she would be anal about hawking his Black ass when he lingered around the room. Once she was down, they'd terminate distractors and make a body switch out into the ambulance smuggling out the vibranium. He just needed to find it quickly.

He switched his screen to the online exhibit brochure and paid attention to the pieces he suspected would be laden with the good stuff.

"What's going on with Bonnie?" Klaue asked.

"Bonnie?"

Klaue pointed to him.

"You're Clyde…she's Bonnie…for fucks sake. Bonnie and Clyde?"

Erik rolled his eyes.

"You two getting along?"

"Yeah."

"She seems distant…not distant…more like preoccupied."

Erik shrugged.

"She seems normal to me."

"Keep an eye on her."

"You getting bad vibes or something?"

"Not sure. I feel like she tiptoes around you. The usual banter between you two seems forced. Not as playful as it used to be."

"I think she's stressed because we are dealing with the C.I.A. now. A lot more hoops to jump through with them once we arrive in Busan."

"I don't think that's it."

"Want me to ask her what's up?"

"Yeah. If things are shaky—"

"I'll take care of it if it is."

Klaue patted Erik's thigh in an off-hand gesture as he stood up.

"Good boy," he said walking over to the window and pulling out a cigar from his shirt pocket.

###

Erik pulled on the non-prescription glasses once he arrived by taxi to the museum.

He made sure to pass by Linda's coffee cart as he strolled into the building. She had already looped the security feed. The morning crowd was gone and the afternoon patrons trickled in. A free public lecture on Benin art attracted a large crowd. He tapped an earbud in his right ear.

"Miss Sunshine has sipped her special brew," Linda said, "she's heading your way."

Erik slowed down and pretended to be interested in an oil painting. The museum director took another sip of her coffee and spotted Erik lingering. He eased away from the painting and headed toward the West African exhibit area. From his peripheral, he saw the director locked on him along with some suited security that tried to look discreet.

The moment he entered the exhibit hall, he steered himself to a glass exhibit displaying a few masks and metal spears. His vibram tattoo didn't itch, and the reflection of the glass showed the director's approach. Another white man in a suit and tie watched him also, his fingers clasped in front of him.

"Good morning, how can I help you?"

Her voice sounded annoyed. Erik turned his head to the left and looked at her with a smile on his face. Her eyes saw his gold slugs and he saw the internal shift she made to deal with him.

"I'm just checkin' out these artifacts. They tell me you're the expert"

"Ah, you could say that…"

Erik skillfully nudged her toward the display he was after. The itch in his gums let him know he had hit jackpot when he read the title cards. Aunt Serah was a fucking boss. Vibranium hidden as a mislabeled Fula hammer. Ole girl rubbed her stomach. Erik knew the poison was waking up in her body. She sounded so confident telling him where she thought the hammer came from. The bitch probably worked Aunt Serah's nerves.

"Nah…"

Her eyes glared at him and her mouth gave a small quirk as if she wanted to burp but couldn't.

"I beg your pardon," she said, her voice sounding surprised.

Erik gave her a quick once over.

"It was taken by British soldiers in Benin, but it's from Wakanda…and it's made out of vibranium."

The rasp in his voice startled her and she clutched her stomach a little harder.

Erik smirked.

"Don't trip, I'ma take it off your hands for you."

"These items aren't for sale."

She elongated the word sale in a way meant to put Erik in his place. The slow rise of heated anger rose in his gut. Fucking thieves.

"How do you think your ancestor's got these? You think they paid a fair price? Or did they take it like they took everything else?"

The bite in his voice startled her. He saw one of the security men inch closer to them.

"Sir I'm going to have to ask you to leave…"

Her voice stopped and she looked toward her minions as she coughed. Erik stepped in close and whispered in her ear.

"You got all this security in here watching me…ever since I walked in. But you ain't checkin' for what you put in your body."

The director gasped and looked at her coffee cup.

"Klaue and Limbano are in position," Linda said in his ear.

Erik smiled.

"C'mon mate…"

A security guard tugged on Erik's jacket, pulling him away from the distressed director.

"I think she might not be feelin' too good…"

The director dropped like a pile of bricks hitting the floor.

"Jam those phones, Linda," Erik whispered.

Erik called for help loudly as three security men surrounded the director on the floor.

"Klaue, Limbano…you're on deck," Linda said.

Less than five minutes later Klaue and Limbano came running in with a stretcher.

"Step back please, gents, step back please," Klaue yelled.

The guards ushered museum-goers toward the exit in the opposite direction. Erik lingered and watched Klaue.

Pistols with high-grade silencers were used to take out two of the guards. Klaue toyed with the third giving the man false hope of survival.

"You can go, but just don't tell anyone, alright?"

Klaue winked at the guard and the man took off running. He let him get twenty feet away before he nickeled the man's brains. The body fell hard.

"Bruh, why you ain't just shoot him right here?"

"Because it's better to leave the crime scene more spread out…makes us look like amateurs."

"I'll meet you guys outside," Linda said in his ear.

"Let's do this," Erik said, guiding Klaue to the vibranium.

Klaue took off the glove on his prosthetic hand and held it up to the exhibit. A sonic pulse shattered the glass and Klaue grabbed the Wakandan hammer. He used his pulse sensors to gently shake off centuries of rust and grit and history. He smelled the metal and laughed.

"You better sell that quick."

"Oh it's already sold," Klaue said bragging. He broke the handle off of the tool and glanced at Limbano to move.

A mask caught Erik's eyes.

He moved over to the standing display and leaned down to look it over carefully.

Regal horns crowned the top as intricate and very detailed carving told a bold story on the blue and steel gray stained wood. The title card said "Warrior Mask, Benin 17th Century". Erik snatched the mask off the metal rod it sat on.

"You're not telling me that's vibranium too, eh?"

"Nah, I'm just feelin' it."

###

Yani's favorite part of laundry day was pulling clean clothes out of the dryer and then folding them. Especially when she tossed in a laundry freshener sheet and everything smelled extra clean.

A clean rain fell outside as she put away Sydette's clothes and her own. She had even washed some of her daughter's old newborn outfits that she would use for Dumplin.

Sydette was sound asleep on her bed in the room she shared with Yani, and once everything was put away, Yani waddled out to the living room where Twyla was braiding Leona's hair and watching tv.

Yani stepped into the kitchen to make herself some fresh cocoa on the stove. She put milk in a saucepan on low and closed the kitchen window. The baby was resting easy inside of her. The day had been a calm one lugging that child inside of her around. One day she would see her feet again and be reacquainted with her toes.

"Yani!"

Twyla's loud shriek startled her and Yani moved as fast as she could back into the living room. Leona was grabbing the remote from Twyla and turning the sound up. The BBC news was on. Klaue's picture took up half the screen on the wall.

"Them find his body," Leona said.

"Shh! Let's hear it," Twyla hissed.

A British-Indian woman anchor told a horrible narrative and Yani wanted to cover her ears, but she stood with a heavy belly, wide-eyed and mouth open as the world was informed that the notorious arms dealer, Ulysses Klaue of South Africa, was found dead in Korea with two others. A woman. And another man. All of Klaue's business was put out into the world and even Twyla's face showed shock because of what the man was accused of doing for so many years. Killing. Arms dealing. Illegal transactions all over the world.

It was all sordid and nasty and so much more horrifying seeing it on the tv.

Killmonger was part of that, and now—

"Yani!"

Twyla moved away from the chair Leona sat in and grabbed Yani's shoulders and eased her onto the couch.

"I'm okay, I just felt a little faint," Yani said.

The headline news moved on to other things and Leona turned down the sound and switched channels.

"They didn't say his name," Yani insisted out loud.

"Calm down," Twyla said.

"They just said Klaue, and then a man and a woman. And there were no photos of him."

Her voice took on a pleading quality.

"Something's burning," Leona said rushing into the kitchen.

"Him not dead. He can't be—"

"They didn't say his name, so no one knows."

"I can look online."

Yani tried to get up, but her weight made it hard to move quickly enough. She felt the baby kicking her side and she gasped. The sharpness hurt. She had upset Dumplin.

"Relax cuz. Be easy, yeah?"

Yani nodded and leaned back.

"Whatever you were trying to make, that milk is ruined," Leona said.

Yani closed her eyes.

Please let me know you're okay, man.

Other news channels that mentioned Klaue only said the same thing. He was shot and killed and found in Korea. Two other bodies with him.

There was nothing Yani could do. Fretting about it would just get her worked up and the baby would feel it. So she focused on getting through the rest of the day with Sydette. Dinner. Bath time. Storytelling time. Sleep.

Yani curled her body around soft pillows and tried to rest her mind. She had to accept not knowing for sure. In the middle of the night, she lumbered out of bed and went to the living room to look on her laptop for any more information. Just various networks giving brief mentions, and then just as quick as the story came…it went.

A week went by and nothing new was reported. Her Aunt was now unemployed permanently from the man. And poor Jerome. Who would spoil him now if they couldn't walk onto the compound anymore? He would think that everyone abandoned him.

So silly. To worry about an iguana as much as she worried about her baby's father.

She touched her chest as her face grew tight. None of her children had their fathers in their life at that moment. Sydette would see Chez eventually in a few months, but Dumplin? Dumplin just had her.

She groaned and lowered her head. Breathing through her mouth she squeezed her hands into fists.

"Oh Lord," she whispered out loud.

She placed her right hand under her stomach.

"Twyla," she called out.

She stood up from the chair in the kitchen.

"Twyla."

"Yeah?"

Her cousin twisted her hair as she stepped into the room.

Yani grabbed a cup and poured water into it from a bottle. She concentrated on swallowing every drop and then turned to face her cousin.

"Dumplin is coming."

"Right now?"

"My contractions are now about thirty minutes apart. I've been keeping track all day."

"All day? You've been in labor all day?"

Twyla's face was bewildered.

"This is baby number two, remember?"

Yani grinned but Twyla's face was still frozen with surprise.

"I'll call Auntie and your Mom."

"Good. I'm going to walk a bit and track my progress while I call my doctor."

"Okay."

Twyla ran to the living room and Yani walked into her bedroom. Sydette was on her bed playing with her dolls.

"Hey, Sweet Pea. Go put your jacket and shoes on. Dumplin is coming."

Sydette's face lit up and she gave a loud whoop as she scrambled to find her shoes.

Yani held both sides of her stomach as she looked down at it.

"Hold on. Give me some time to get to the hospital, yeah?"

Sydette ran out of the room.

"Auntie! Auntie! The baby is coming!"

Yani smiled.

"Take your time, Dumplin. No rush, love. I'm here for you."

###

She was so tired.

By the time the last relative left the house and Sydette was put to bed sound asleep, Yani was able to sit in her new rocking chair and feed the baby. Fourth day home with the newborn and every relative had finally gotten a chance to see the bad man on the hill's child.

Dumplin.

Erik Paradise Galiber-Stevens.

Affectionately known as Riki by the rest of the family.

Nine pounds, four ounces.

Twyla took one look at him and exclaimed, "Dumplin? Tuh, this child is a beef patty."

The boy had the lustiest cry when he came out from between Yani's legs. Twyla cried the entire time she held Yani's hand in her private maternity room. Sydette had a side seat to watch everything and she was a better coach than her cousin. Her mother held Sydette and when her baby brother came out heavy and healthy, Sweet Pea shouted, "Don't cry, I'll help you!"

She had to have stitches, but she was glad that the birth wasn't as labor intensive as Sydette's had been. By the time she was rolled into the hospital to have him, Riki was out three hours later. Fat, vibrant, and restless. Arms and legs constantly moving like he had somewhere to go.

"Are you still sure about 'Paradise'?" Twyla said watching her breastfeed her son.

"What's wrong with that for a middle name? He was conceived in paradise and I want him to know that. What do you think it should be?"

"Lil Big Nigga—"

"Shut up!"

"He on them titties like his Daddy—"

"Twyla!"

"You know it's true."

"Nasty."

"Runs in the family. Before I forget—"

Twyla walked into her room and came back with a handful of mail.

"This all came to Auntie's house addressed to you. It was forwarded from your old place. All your bills."

Yani tilted Riki's head back and wiped his lips.

"Can you burp him for me?"

Yani took the mail as Twyla took the baby.

"Oh, stop fussing, you can have them titties again in a minute, greedy boy. Yuh Mama not going anywhere…Yani…what is it?"

"This came from Korea."

Yani felt her heart patter a little faster.

The manilla envelope had a typed address label on it for her apartment. The return address was written in Korean. The stamped date was recent. Five days previous.

"Open it," Tywla encouraged.

Yani took her time tearing open the flap. She took a deep breath and pulled out several sheets of heavy paper. She stared at them, looking over every single one carefully. When she lifted her eyes up to Twyla, she could barely breathe.

"Yuh scaring me cuz."

Yani was still in pain from having the baby, so she couldn't jump up like she wanted. She opened her mouth but she couldn't get words out.

"Yani…fuck…what is it?"

"Me and Auntie…"

"You and Auntie what?"

"We own the compound. These are deeds to all three houses."

Yani stared at the thick papers.

"Auntie gets the first house. I get Klaue's house, and we both share the middle house. It's the fucking deeds. We own everything free and clear."

"Yuh fucking lying!"

Riki whimpered from the volume of Twyla's voice.

"Killmonger did this. I know it. It's Klaue's signature on the transfer of everything, but…this is Killmonger."

Yani stared at her newborn son, his silky curls, button nose, full lips, and bright brown eyes so perfect. So much like his father.

"Dumplin, your Daddy gave us everything."

Part 30 Conclusion HERE

###

Tag List:

@fd-writes​ @soufcakmistress  @cherrystainedlipsbaby @tclaybon  @thadelightfulone

@allhailqueennel @bartierbakarimobisson @cpwtwot @shookmcgookqueen @yoyolovesbucky

@raysunshine78 @the-illllest @terrablaze514  @l-auteuse @amirra88 @jimizwidow @janelledarling

@chaneajoyyy @sweetestdream92 @purple-apricots @blackpinup22 @hennessystevens-udaku

@scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @bugngiz @stariamrry  @honeytoffee @meilintheempressofdreams

@tyees @eye-raq @writerbee-ffs @chocolatedream30 @nahimjustfeelingit-writes​

[ad1thi]

sin city (wasn’t made for you)

@imposter-human wrote me this amazing fic that was begging for a sequel, so here it is!

–

this got super long, so beware the read more! also please go through the tags for trigger warnings i don’t wanna accidentally upset anyone. bear in mind this is a serial killer fic, so morality is slightly screwy here

–

“You’re a-” Tony splutters, “this is a -” he stumbles back, hitting the door without realising 

His hands automatically starts fumbling for the knob, but he can’t turn, he can’t tear his eyes away from Bucky- who’s frozen in the motion of scrubbing blood from his shirt

There’s silence as words die in Tony’s throat, save for the jiggling of the lock

“It uh, locks immediately,” Bucky finally says, “i have to release it for you to get out”

“And you’re not going to do that are you,” Tony says, “of course not why would you? I just stumbled onto your murder dungeon you’re not stupid”

Tony sinks to the floor, breathing haphazardly, “I can’t breathe- oh my god I can’t breathe!”

Bucky is over in an instant, crouching and grabbing Tony’s hand to place on his chest

“Can you feel the rise and fall of my chest doll?” Bucky’s free hand is cupping his neck, but Tony has enough range to nod dumbly, “great can you just focus on that for me?”

“Focus on my breathing doll thats it try and follow it”

Tony’s eyes slowly go glassy, and he slumps against Bucky- erratically gasping for air like a fish out of water

Dimly, he can feel Bucky’s fingers against his cheek and hear his voice; but its so far away and Tony’s bed is so close

so he fights the urge to reach his boyfriend, and just, falls

–

Tony wakes up, and he’s on a bed

More accurately, he’s on his bed

Chained to his bed with handcuffs that he and Bucky experimented with a couple of months back and god all the signs were there weren’t they?

The way Bucky kept odd hours, the constant stench of blood that surrounded him, the ways his eyes lit up when Tony talked about the murders in his books

God for the first couple of months the only way to get Bucky excited was Tony describing a murder from one of his books; how could he have been so blind?

Tony pulls at the chains experimentally, but he knows how sturdy the handcuffs are so its a lost cause

And the worst part is, Tony thinks, pulling his knees up and linking his arms under him, I still fucking love him

Absently, he wonders how pathetic it makes him; the fact that Bucky is a bona-fide serial killer and Tony is seriously considering still proposing to him

“You would’ve hit me on the back of the head and straightened me out, but this is what you get for dying in combat honeybear ” Tony says softly into the air and if the fact that he was talking aloud to his dead ex wasn’t a sign that he was going insane; what else was?

The door creaks open, and Tony’s eyes lift to see Bucky holding a tray of food; but his chin stays resting on his knees

The bed shifts slightly as Bucky sits down, and Tony obediently opens his mouth when Bucky nudges a spoon at him

If it wasn’t for the handcuffs and the bright red liquid staining Bucky’s neck; Tony could almost pretend that he was sick and Bucky was looking after him

As opposed to, you know, the reality- which was that Tony was a captive of a serial killer

Bucky lifts up a glass, and cups Tony’s chin to gingerly serve him water- but he doesn’t touch him otherwise

He keeps his hands to himself, folded on his lap; and his head cocked; silently waiting for Tony to say something

“So,” Tony says finally, because it is a well documented fact that silence makes Tony uncomfortable, “how did this whole thing begin?”

He gestures vaguely at the blood coating Bucky, and Bucky must’ve not realised he still had blood on it because he lifts his fingers to his neck and looks surprised when it comes back red

“Shit,” he curses, before looking back at Tony with wide eyes, “I’m sorry I thought I’d gotten it all off before I came in”

“I walked in on your murder dungeon Buck,” Tony says; the nickname slipping out, “I don’t think a bit of blood will startle me”

“Plus,” he lifts his hands to clink the chains, before re-wrapping them around his feet, “ ‘s not like I can go anywhere”

Bucky winces, “I’m sorry about the chains, they’re just a precaution. I didn’t, I didn’t want you to run before I had a chance to explain myself”

Tony snorts, “I am your captive audience”

The corner of Bucky’s lips curl up; but he otherwise looks genuinely apologetic

It’s funny, Tony always assumed that murderers were sociopaths; but Bucky is fucking with his empirical data

“The first time was um, when I was 17 maybe 18?” Tony’s face must show his surprise because Bucky hastens to explain, “yeah there was a girl in my class, Nat? She’d been having some trouble with the guy who lived across hall from her and her mom, and so I uh- I took care of it”

“My hero,” Tony says and Bucky rubs the back of his self consciously

“I don’t-” Bucky starts and then stops, “I don’t mindlessly kill. I wanted you to know that. The system is broken, and there are so many fucked up people who get away with shit every single day and I just -” he breaks off again, and looks up at Tony imploringly

“I mean to lie to you, I really did start out in forensics,” Bucky says- and it must speak to how fucked up Tony’s heart is that it still flutters for the man in front of him, “but I just watched Stevie catch so many people who would slip through the cracks of our justice system and I -”

“The day after I killed Mr. Pierce, was the first day that Nat came to school without bruises,” Bucky reaches out for Tony; his face dropping when Tony instinctively flinches back, “I know its wrong. I know murder is wrong. But how can someone that stopped a 16 year old from being raped be so bad?”

“I don’t mindlessly kill,” Bucky says again, “but I do, kill that is. Everyone that I kill, deserves to die”

“A modern age Robin Hood,” Tony says lightly because he isn’t sure to do with all the information he just received, “just more murder-y”

Bucky cracks a real smile at that, and Tony thinks to himself im so fucked

//

It’s a couple of years after they’ve skipped town to avoid Detective Rogers (its weird calling him that, I always knew him as Stevie, Bucky had said once) when Tony abruptly turns to Bucky and says “I want to join”

It wasn’t easy getting used to the fact that his husband had a body count of 44 (and climbing) but Bucky hadn’t lied

Everyone that he’d ever killed, deserved to die

Loan sharks, rapists, men who preyed on children, women who drugged old pensioners- every single person that Bucky had killed had been arrested but acquitted on a technicality

Tony had to quit his day job, and he wrote under an alias and posted the work to Pepper anonymously so she wouldn’t be implicated in any way; and he and Bucky were married in secret and their marriage certificate locked up- but it was worth it

Bucky was worth it

6 years on and Tony still loves him so fiercely he thinks he may die from it, which is why he says “I want to join”

Bucky looks up from where he’s meticulously cleaning the bullets of any fingerprints and holding them into his pistol, mouth hanging slightly open

Tony chuckles and presses his fingers to his husband’s chin; pushing his mouth closed and leaning in for a feather-light kiss

“You’ll catch flies that way, Buck” he says, before leaning back and spreading his hands out, “well?”

Bucky’s face scrunches up, “Why?”

Tony shrugs, “you get so, excited after a kill and I just, I wanna experience that. That rush you feel”

“Plus,” he says- slipping on some gloves and taking the pistol from Bucky, “I’m a crack shot”

He lifts the gun over Bucky’s head; closes his eyes, kisses Bucky- and shoots

Bucky breaks the kiss to look over his shoulder at where there’s a perfect hole though the hole of the woman in the painting and turns back to Tony with a wicked smile, “oh darling you’ve been holding out on me”

–

Tony’s standing over the dead body, gun still pointing at his forehead; when Bucky walks over

“Doll,” he says quietly, “doll we gotta move before the police arrive”

Tony turns to him with wide eyes, and when he shifts his Bucky’s arms- Bucky can feel his cock at half mast against his thighs

“You never told me it felt like that,” Tony whispers; his voice dropping to a rich baritone voice, “I mean- you talked about it, but I never realised it felt like that”

There’s something akin to awe in Tony’s voice, and he can’t seem to look away from the body strewn across the floor

Bucky has to hand it to him, he shot the guy directly between the eyes- and there’s barely any blood splatter

Bucky rocks his thigh against Tony’s cock slightly; grinning when he moans, “It feels good doesn’t it?”

Tony nods, bottom lip caught between his teeth

“Doll,” he whispers, “as much as I’d like to stay and help you take care of that here- we gotta skip before the cops get here”

“Stevie got way too close to catching me last time, and orange washes me out”

He holds his hand out for the gun, and Tony clicks on the safety and passes it over

He walks over to the bin in the corner of the room, “you shaved off the serial numbers right?” he calls over his shoulder

“I uh, burned them off with hydrochloric acid,” Bucky turns to look at Tony with raises eyebrows, “its a trick I learnt when I was shadowing the FBI. They can re-create shaved off serial numbers but not when they’re burned off. It’s how the IRA would get away with stolen guns back in the day”

“God I could kiss you right now,” Bucky says- stretching out his hand so Tony will take the hint and join him, “but that’ll just have to wait for when we’re back home”

Tony bypasses his hand and tucks himself under Bucky’s shoulder- grinning when Bucky’s hand slips back his shoulder to palm his ass

“Well then” Tony says, “we better get home fast”

Fin

–

tag list: @theavengays, @sleepyoldchild,  @wintersoldierland, @wecollectnightmares, @starkwannabe, @nightwingingthis, @im-ironman 

btw the tag list is still open if you wanna send me an ask and be added to it, you’ll be automatically tagged in everything i write!!

[fernwehbookworm]

Woke The F*ck Up- Chapter 24

April 28th, 2018

Lena tries Kara’s cell one last time, scanning the room as panic grows. After five minutes, she had grown irritated, after ten, worry had begun to gnaw at her, now it had been fifteen and Lena had called Kara four times while asking patrons and bartenders alike if they had seen her. No one had. The bartender waved her in the direction of the manager's office. It was locked and dark. The schedule posted outside the door said he was off today. Finally, Lena gives in and calls Alex, cringing as it rings to voicemail. She calls again immediately.

“What Luthor?” Alex asks irritably, clearly being interrupted and sounding a bit breathless.

“K-Kara..” Lena’s eyes dart around the bar again,

“What about Kara?” Alex bites through a gasp.

“She… she…”

“Lena, what is it?” Worry starts to tint Alex’s voice.

“She’s missing”

“What do you mean?”

“She went into the bar for my jacket and never came back. No one has seen her. She’s just gone. She won’t answer her phone either.”

“Are you sure she isn’t doing her night job?”

“And just left me standing on a sidewalk, alone, drunk, in front of the bar?”

“Shit, your right. Okay. Stay right there. Sam is on her way to get you in a Lift and take you back to the hotel. Don’t go anywhere alone. I’ll head into work and see if we can pull security feeds.”

“Okay. Alex?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m worried.”

“Me too. But let’s try to keep level heads, okay?”

“Okay.”

**

April 29th, 2018

Kara’s head throbbed; man, she drank way too much last night. Then she remembers she didn’t drink at all. Her eyes snapped open and immediately shut under the harsh fluorescent lighting. The fuzzy images of being drugged in the manager's office pull at the edge of Kara’s brain but she can’t make out the face of whoever it was. Kara moves to sit up and rub her eyes, something heavy clanks as she lifts her arms.

“What the…”

Manacles clasp around both wrists with a heavy chain, another chain leads to between her legs and the manacles around her ankles. Already the skin of her wrists was tinged red with irritation. It takes effort for Kara to focus her eyes through the pounding of her head. She’s in a small, bare room with only one light above her. The stench makes her think it used to be a janitor's closet of some kind. A harsh mixture of chemicals and mildew. Kara groans and rubs her temples. The door bangs open, making her wince and shrink away from the noise.

“Marvelous, you’re awake. I was worried that my dear Corben here had used too much.” Kara looks up at the voice sending chills through her. She knows that voice. She’s heard it before. From Lena’s hotel room.

“Veronica,” Kara growls out.

“Wonderful, you do remember me.” Veronica’s smirk sits like poison in Kara’s stomach. Instead of responding, Kara just glares at the woman lording over her. The figure behind her steps into the light as well. A man Kara had beat in the ring a couple of times, John Corben. He was the best of the underground fighters until Kara showed up.

“I’ve heard that you were the strong silent type. Always just showing up to a fight, collecting the money, and leaving without a word, isn’t that right? Andromeda?” Kara stiffens at the use of her alias.

“Yes, that's right. I know who you are. That’s why your here after all.” Roulette continues, unprompted.

“You see, no one ever leaves my games. There is only one way out of my service and no one ever takes it. So you see, my dear Andromeda, this is not something you can walk away from. You will fight for me. Then, if you live through your trials, your skill sets will be sold to those willing to pay for them.”

Kara somehow finds it in herself to laugh. This was a stereotypical villain rant that made Kara think of a bad movie or comic books. Veronica looks at her with disdain.

“What do you find so humorous?”

“Just this whole ‘You will work for me, or else’ spiel. Very good Veronica. Very Good.”

“Oh but my dear Kara, you will work for me or else. You see, I know your whole life now.” Kara stiffens at that, thinking of her other, other alias.

“I know where your gym is and where all your employees live. I know where your sister’s apartment is. And yes, I know where Lena Luthor is staying currently. Also, I know where the girl is, what’s her name? Ah, right. Ruby. She’s currently at a sleepaway camp in England. So yes, you will fight. You will win. You will win or die trying. Then, if you live, I will begin selling your services to the highest payers. Unless you want something to happen to those closest to you.” With every word, fear lances through her heart. The only hope was that Veronica seemed not to know about Power Girl.

“Veronica, please. Don’t do this.” Kara begs.

“Ah, ah, ah.” Veronica wiggles a finger at Kara.

“Its Roulette to you. Now, Corben, get Andromeda ready for her first fight. Try and escape and I think I’ll start with that lovely front desk girl at your gym. The pretty little blonde one.” Veronica leaves with a flourish.

Kara digs her nails into her palms and swallows past the lump in her throat. This was unbelievable. She was happy. Everything was going perfectly. Then she was so focused on making sure Lena was safe that she forgot to check her own surroundings. Kara groaned inwardly as she thought of the ‘I told you so’ that she would get from both Lena and Alex. Her thoughts are interrupted by Corben throwing a bundle of clothing at her face. He then bends down to unlock her manacles.

“Change. Don’t try anything. We have cameras and men everywhere. I’ll be right outside.”

Kara sighs and looks at the clothing in her lap. Basically identical to what she used to wear in fights. Blue boxers shorts, a sleeveless blue hoodie, and a dark blue face mask. Black tape was also in the bundle for her wrists. Kara sighs again and begins to dress, at least Veronica seems to want to keep Kara’s identity secret.

**

Lena hugs Sam tight as she picks her up. They head back to the hotel and Sam forces Lena to sit on the couch while she whispers encouraging words and they wait for Alex. It’s hard. Lena feels dread seep into her chest. The past year of her life running in circles through her mind, over and over again. Something is nagging at her but she can’t figure out what. The only possibility is that some criminal or someone had figured out that Kara was Powergirl. Lena’s mouth tasted dry and like bile as she fought the urge to be sick. Panic raced through her veins as Sam sounded like a droning in her ears. It could have been hours or even days before Alex knocked on the door. Sam got up to let her in and hugged her tightly. Then Alex sat in front of Lena on the coffee table. Lena’s watery gaze met Alex’s distraught one.

“It’s not good. The footage was corrupted. We think whoever targeted Kara paid off someone in the bar to get in and out unseen. One of our tech guys found the van used for the abduction and was able to trace it back through traffic cameras to a street corner about two miles away. This is all we could get.” Alex produces a folded paper with a picture printed on it. Lena squints at the sheet, trying to make out the grainy facial features.

“Fuck.” Lena whispers.

“What is it?” Alex asks.

“I think… I think that’s John Corben.” Lena manages, flashing back to drunken nights in Veronica’s private back offices of her clubs as the man stood silently by. No doubt hearing the sounds Lena made while in those offices. She wasn’t embarrassed then but she was now.

“And who is that?”

“He’s Veronica Sinclair's personal bodyguard.” Alex visibly winces when she says Veronica’s name.

“I take it Kara told you everything then?”

“Yup. But why would she want Kara? Does she know about Powergirl?”

“No, I don’t think so. I don’t think Powergirl did anything to interfere with Veronica’s business…” Lena trails off, remembering what one of her businesses’ was.

“Lena?” Alex waves her hand in front of Lena’s face as she zones out. Lena shakes her head and looks at her.

“Alex, do you know what Kara’s alias was in those fight clubs?” Lena asks slowly, putting the pieces together even before she knows the answer. Alex looks shocked that Lena even knew that.

“I...uh… yeah, she went by Andromeda.”

“Dammit, Kara!” Lena stands to pace and run fingers through her hair.

“What is it?” Alex follows Lena as she paces.

“Andromeda was Veronica’s biggest moneymaker. When she disappeared, Ronnie was pissed. Like didn’t even want to have hate sex, pissed. She swore to hunt down whoever it was and force them to work for her again. She rattled on and on about more and more illegal jobs and how she would target her family to make sure she couldn’t refuse. It was scary. And now, now she has Kara and obviously knows who she is. And now Kara is God knows where being forced to do illegal things just so Veronica won’t hurt me, or you, or your mother. And-”

“Lena! Breath!” Alex stops Lena’s frantic pacing by grabbing her shoulders. Lena jerks to a stop by the strong hands on her upper arms. Alex’s eyes are fierce.

“So you are saying. Veronica Sinclair is behind the underground fights?”

“And gambling clubs, and around forty percent of the drug trade. She goes by Roulette.”

“Dammit, Kara!” Alex groans and begins pacing herself.

“Okay. Well, that’s more than we had. Let me make some calls and reach out and figure out where the next fight is.”

“Don’t bother. I know where it is.”

“What? How?”

“Veronica still wants to win me back in her own twisted way. She sends me invitations to her private viewing box still. It’s so one-percenters can watch the fights and pick from her muscle for higher, and indulge in other activities.”

“Wait, like actual invitations?”

“Yeah, wait hold on.”

Alex sat on the couch next to Sam who had been letting Alex and Lena work through things. When Alex leans forward on her elbows and lets her head hang between her shoulders, Sam starts rubbing circles between her shoulder blades. Lena disappears into the bathroom and rummages around.

“You’ll find her. I know you will.” Sam whispers, Alex relaxes under her touch.

“Here!” comes a triumphant cry from the bathroom. Lena reappears with a crumpled paper as she shakes of a tissue and a floss string. It looked like it used to be nice. Gold trim and black calligraphy.

“It’s just an address, downtown in the warehouse district.”

“Perfect. I’ll get a team ready.”

“We can’t just charge in. Not until Kara is safe. Veronica may want to have revenge but if I know her, she will settle for simply killing her.”

“Lena, I am a Federal Agent. My priority is Kara’s safety. But this could be big. Roulette has been a mystery in the FBI for a long time. The DEO has even been consulting on it. This needs to be called in. Undercover team first, well, address first.” Alex holds out a hand. Lena starts to hand it over but hesitates.

“One condition. I come with you. Undercover.” Lena clutches the address to her chest, out of reach.

“What? No! It’s too dangerous.”

“Either I go with you or I go alone.” Lena raises an eyebrow in defiance. A solid five seconds pass before Alex relents.

“Fine. Give me the damn address. I’ll text you when and where to meet me.” Alex stands and takes the proffered paper. She heads to the door, stopping when Sam grabs her hand. Sam presses a hard kiss to her lips. Alex kisses her back with surprising passion.

“Be safe,” Sam whispers.

“I’ll be back.” Alex reassures her, “I’m not done with you yet, I don’t think I’ll ever be.”

Then Alex is gone. Leaving Sam staring after and wondering just what she means.

“Wow, that was… intense.” Lena chimes in behind her.

“Yeah…” Sam says faintly, then she shakes herself out of the trance.

“I need you to be safe too. I don’t like you doing this.”

“What? No kiss to go with that?” Lena teases, avoiding the seriousness of it. Sam just glares.

“Come on, let’s get you ready. What does one wear to a secret underground fight club that one’s ex runs?”

“Oh, God. I don’t even know.”

**

Lena decided to keep it simple. A long black dress with a slit up to the mid thigh and elegant black Louboutin’s and a silver wrap. When Lena reached out to Veronica about RSVP-ing with a plus one, an hour later the bellhop arrived with a simple white box. The box held two masquerade masks.

Though I wish to see your lovely face, no one else should.

Sam was dressed in jeans and a sweater, she had convinced Alex to let her sit in the surveillance van. Which Lena teased her about having the Agent wrapped around her finger.

“I can’t just sit here and wait for my best friend who may or may not live. At least there I’ll be closer and apart of it.” Sam defends.

“Sure. You're just worried about me. Not a very butch lesbian who is showing her soft side in concern for her sister. That way you can pretend it's not doing things to you.” Lena drawls out. Sam flushes in embarrassment.

“I know it’s not good. I mean Kara is in danger. But the whole, take charge and savior aroura she has going…” Sam trails off and bites her lip. Lena throws a pillow at her to snap her out of it. Lena cackles at her friends startled expression before there is a knock.

“Ass…” Sam mumbles standing to let Alex back in.

Alex is wearing a dark blue dress that takes Sam’s breath away. It hugs her hips in a war that tactical pants do not. The deep neckline interrupted briefly to have a small window just below her breasts and it makes Sam want to just stick her fingers in and tear it open. Sam swallows.

“Hey, sorry. It took too long to convince the director to move on this. It is technically an FBI case so there will be a lot of paperwork later. But we are ready now. Are you two ready?” Alex is too busy talking to notice Sam’s staring.

“Yes, here. Veronica sent these. I’m guessing the rich and powerful don’t like being known.” Lena holds out one mask to Alex. Ignoring her friend's obvious short circuit.

“Okay good. Sam, you can sit in the van, but please do what they tell you. Sam? Sam?” Alex finally notices her staring, mouth slightly agape.

Sam swallows hard. “Yeah, uh. Van. Got it.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Just...uhh… dress.” Sam manages.

Lena grabs her clutch and mask before brushing past the two still standing in the doorway staring at each other. “Useless lesbian.” Lena mumbles.

“Bisexual!” Sam cries indignantly.

“Still useless.” Lena retorts as Alex follows them into the hotel hallway. Sam is about to retort again when she feels Alex’s fingers brush hers and instead twins their fingers together. It’s a small thing but it makes Sam’s pulse race.

**

Kara doges and side steps as the punch rushes towards her face. As far as she can tell it’s the third fight in as many hours. Her limbs feel heavy and sluggish. Still, she manages two quick jabs to the man’s ribs and feels at least two crack. He wheezes and collapses to his knees. Cheering and grumbling erupt as money changes hands. Kara leans over and puts her hands on her knees before the large man in charge of her comes to show her back to the small closet like cell she is being kept in. There had been a hard bench that was long enough to lay on and a camping toilet added after the first fight. Kara lay on the bench with a groan. A bruise was forming on her forearm from a particularly hard block. All her muscles were screaming at how hard she was pushing them.

“Next fight is in an hour. Here’s water. The VIP’s will be here soon so you better fight like your life depends on it. Because it does.” The man says in a gruff voice, tossing two bottles of water towards her, falling short to skitter on the floor. Kara groans as she bends to retrieve them, a bruise on her ribs protesting at the movement. Kara chugs half the first and uses the rest to rinse the sweat off her arms and face. Then she begins to sip the second and stare at the wall while she counts the seconds to her next fight.

**

The bouncer takes note of the masks and waves Alex and Lena towards the nicer door. Another man opens it for the two of them. It leads to a dark staircase that they climb and shouting grows louder.

“All teams, check in,” Alex commands into the earpiece. Lena hears the odd echo of her voice directly in her ear also.

“Alpha Team Set. Main entrance clear.

“Beta Team Ready. Roof is clear.”

“Gamma has South Ally clear.”

“Delta has North Ally clear.”

“Copy. Stand by. Remember, we want to capture as many as we can but Veronica Sinclair is the priority. Wait for my signal.” A chorus of “Copy that.” follows and Alex follows Lena into a dimly lit but well-decorated room.

The furniture is lavish with leather couches and regal chairs. Attractive men and women flit from group to group serving a melody of drinks from the bar on one side. Music floats from somewhere, doing nothing to obscure the shouting reverberating through the floor to ceiling windows. Lena’s eyes trail through the room before she drifts over to them. Below is a much rougher crowd of people standing around a makeshift cage as two men circle each other and exchange blows. She feels Alex join her.

“I can’t believe this is where Kara would go. She would have rather been here than with me.” Alex whispers.

“No. This is where she came to release all her anger. This is where she came to be the darkest part of herself. She couldn’t so that with you. But she doesn't need that anymore. She needs you now.” Lena whispers back.

“You’re right. Don’t jump people are watching so I’m going to put my arm around you.” Lena nods and points below, pretending to talk about one of the fighters. She leans into Alex as she slips an arm around Lena’s waist.

“This is one-way glass. We can see them, they can’t see us.” Alex points out. Lena nods, grabbing two drinks from a passing waitress and offers one to Alex.

“No. I have to keep a clear head.”

“Just sip it. It will look weird otherwise. I’ll drink half and we can switch.”

Alex just nods and refocuses below as the match ends. She’s looking for any signs of her sister. Her and Lena continue to whisper observations in order to look as couple-y as possible to the other members of the upper floor. Everyone wore masks and people flirted with whoever nearby. On one table were little white lines of premium cocaine. In another corner was a man dispensing pills like drinks. Veronica was for sure using these events to get rich people hooked on her products. Who better than to get addicted than the rich who could buy it on a consistent basis.

“Well look who finally accepted an invitation. I never thought you would.” A silky voice disrupts the couple. It sends chills up Lena’s spine but she plasters on a smile and turns to her ex.

“Ronnie, dear. How are you?” Lena tightens her arm around Alex’s waist and Veronica’s eyes narrow at that.

“Oh good, just being successful in my business endeavors and wondering why you finally decided to join me, with a plus one.”

“That’s wonderful. Well, this lovely woman is an extra from one of my new music videos. She wanted to see how the other half lived, so I’m giving her the full experience. Plus with the whole kidnapping and helping put my brother and jail with my mother next, I think I could use some more muscle around. Just in case.”

“Well then, it’s lovely to meet you…” Veronica indicates to Alex.

“Jessica.” Ales holds out a hand which Veronica ignores.

“Let me know if you see something you like Lena. I’d be happy to help with anything.” Veronica walks away, swaying her hips to indicate to Lena that she was an option also. Lena sighed and turned away. The ring below was getting rowdy again as the audience prepared for the next fight. Lena catches a flash of blonde under a blue hood. The face is obscured by distance and a mask but Lena would recognize Kara anywhere. Blue eyes flick up to glare at the windows on the second floor, Lena inhales sharply at the split skin on Kara’s cheek and the red stains on the tape on her hands. She’s been fighting a lot, Lena can tell by the slump of her shoulders.

“There she is. We should move.”

“How do you suppose my agents get through that crowd of people, most of which are likely armed? Then get up here to arrest Veronica?”

“Point Taken. What do you purpose?”

“Well, she thinks you’re here to hire muscle. So we watch enough fights to see a selection, then see if you can get a close up look at some of them. Hopefully, we can get them both separated then.”

“Okay.” Lena switches hers and Alex’s glasses, “now go get a refill.”

Alex saunters over to the bar with the empty glass and flirts a little with the pretty bartender while Lena watches as the other fighter is brought out, a bald overly muscled man who grunts and spits. Lena slips into the mask that Kara had so long accused her of using for her singer persona. Alex slips easily back around her, playing the part of the awestruck D-Lister who was getting her dream come true. Lena managed not to flinch as the bell rang and the man let out a war cry and charged. Kara easily sidestepped him and kicked the small of the back, sending him slamming into the chain link fence that separates them from the rowdy audience. He bounces off and right back into Kara’s fist in his eye.

The crowd seems to flinch together at it and then man sprawls on the ground. He tries to stand while blindly swinging and receives a knee to the jaw. His head snaps up before he hits the ground again, unconscious. A little blood dribbles out and Lena fears for a moment that Kara killed him. But then he groans and moves just a little. Two more burly men scramble into the ring to lift the fighter up and take him away. Then another man escorts Kara out by the elbow. And she goes without a glance back.

“Wow,” Alex says softly.

“Wow,” Lena repeats.

“I always forget how badass she is. I just always see that scared little girl that my parents adopted.” Alex waits for a response but all she hears is a loud swallow. She looks at Lena who is clearly flushed and breathing shallowly.

“Lena, god I can’t believe I’m saying this, but are you turned on? Right Now? Seriously?” Alex hisses.

“No!” Lena squeaks out, “okay, yes. Sorry, but she did that so casually. It just-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Alex says sternly. Lena just laughs.

“Enjoying the show?” Veronica’s poisonous voice drifts from behind them.

“Very much. Who was that last one? She was impressive. Anything better?”

Veronica raises an eyebrow. She holds a hand out and a drink magically appears by way of a handsome waiter. She reclines in a high back chair and raises an eyebrow, looking Lena up and down. Lena looks away to push a hair off of Alex’s forehead, trying to feign uninterest. She must succeed because Veronica takes a drink.

“Yes, she is impressive. She goes by Andromeda. Undefeated so far but I still have a few fighters up my sleeve.”

“Oh? Anyone I might want to hire?”

“Possibly. I’ll let you decide later.” Veronica throws another wink before standing fluidly and sauntering away again, a queen in her queendom.

**

That was way too easy. Kara knew it was too easy because the fights had been getting progressively harder. Kara paced her small room trying to figure out why it was so easy. She didn’t break a sweat. The only thing was she had this feeling pricking at the back of her neck, like she was being watched. Which was crazy since she was, all the time. Even now she knew Corben was just right outside the door. Soon he opens the door again and prods Kara back into the ring. She stands alone this time and the crowd quiets.

The air is thick as Kara’s eyes dart about, confused. Her heart drums as adrenaline pour into her veins. The quiet is so loud that Kara could probably hear a pin drop. And then she does. Or the soft shink of metal on metal and her head jerks up. A shadow moves just above the light, then yells follow the shadow down. Kara gasps and flings herself out of the way. Kara tucks and rolls to spring right back to her feet. Twin thuds hit the ground as two men land. One pulls a dagger from the thin mat where he had plunged it in an attempt to catch her off guard.

“Shit.” Kara curses as she takes in the lean muscled men, both brandishing knives, both with murder in their eyes.

They circle in opposite directions, attempting to flank Kara. Kara keeps one on her left and one on her right. She can’t let one get behind her. Does Roulette actually want her dead now? Is she insane? Maybe she’s made enough money in the last twenty-four hours? Or has it been days? Kara has no idea anymore. But maybe Veronica has made enough money that Kara isn’t worth it anymore. A flash of metal and kara has to bat a knife out of the way and step out of the way to put both men in front of her again. She’s so tired that she had zoned out and nearly paid the price. The man stumbles into his partner who catches him to keep him from falling.

Then they both charge and Kara sinks into that space in her head. The one where nothing else matters. Where she can practically see every move before the opponent thought of it. The space where time means nothing, everything moves too slow and too fast. She flips the first man over her back, the second she knocks the knife away and jabs his gut. Then she grabs the scruff of his neck and throws him on top of his companion. They scramble to their feet again, one losing his knife in the flailing limbs. The other lashes out and Kara isn’t prepared for it. The blade grazes her forearm, sharp and burning. Bright red splatters on the ground and over the men’s dirty clothing. Kara stumbles back and grabs the wound on reflex.

Laughter and jeering echo around her as the men get to their feet. Kara takes a deep breath and re-focuses and sinks back into the empty space. Block, punch, spin, kick. Each move only using as much energy as necessary. Parry, punch, sidestep. There is the opening. Grab, twist, squeeze. The knife falls into Kara’s other hand, on instinct she takes it and plunges it right back into the man’s stomach. She ducks under a swing of the other man and steps behind him grabbing the back of his head and slamming it into a fence post, knocking him out. The man she stabbed is gasping on the ground, hands pressed over hole pouring blood out. Kara just waits to be escorted out the ring as the ‘nurse,’ a very loose term for the ex-marine with battlefield medical knowledge, rushes to stop the bleeding. Kara has seen the wound before. He should live. Corben tosses her a half used tube of antibacterial cream and tape. Kara applies it as she walks, tearing the tape with her teeth after tightly binding her bleeding arm. She’s so distracted that she doesn't even notice that Corben shoves her in a different room. A room with all of Roulette’s top fighters. Kara turns back to see Corben smirk.

“Wait here. No fighting. Speak to the patrons and be shot.” And he slams the door shut.

Kara walks over to and unoccupied bench in the spartan room and sinks into it. Making sure her hood and mask are still in place before shutting her eyes, ignoring the other men and women in the room.

**

“What is happening?” Alex whispers, seeing her sister standing alone.

“Shit. Look. Above her.” Lena points. Alex sees the two fighters perched above the ring in the rafters. Kara’s head jerks up just before they fall on her. They watch the fight unfold, Lena gasping and clutching Alex’s arms as she notices the small sharp blades. Lena can barely breathe for the next ten minutes as  Kara fights. She almost cries when she sees the blood sprout across Kara’s forearm. She barely contains another gasp as Kara stabs the man. And bites her lip to stop a cheer when the last man is knocked unconscious.

Lena flags down a waitress to ask for Veronica to get her a closer look at the product. The woman seems unfazed by the remark and nods. Lena finishes her third drink to still her shaking hands.

“She’s fine. She’s fine. She has faced worse.” Alex mutters, half to Lena, half to herself.

It just takes a few more minutes for a buff looking bodyguard to appears to escort them deeper into the building. Lena grabs Alex’s hand and swings it a little between them to try and keep up the flirtatious pretense. Veronica waits for them outside a door with an armed bodyguard. A large assault rifle in his hands. That could pose a problem.

“Lena, I’m glad to have piqued your interest. Robert, Be a dear and line them up.” The large man nods and enters the room. Shouting is heard before he holds the door back open for the women.

Lined against the wall are the fighters that Lena and Alex had already seen today, many fierce and scared, most underdressed to show off as much muscle as possible. Only one stands as a splash of color in the dull room, head down as she leans against the wall they are lined up against. Her knee juts out from her foot prooped on the wall, arms crossed, the injured one bandaged. When the door shuts, Kara stands and looks up. Dead blue eyes meet Lena’s then Kara stiffens and tears spring to her eyes. They crinkle at the corners as the only indication of the smile behind the mask. Lena’s eyes dart away to appear interested in the tall muscled woman near the middle of the line. Alex hangs back, trying to inch near the man guarding the door.

“These are my best that are here right now. I have a few that are temporarily hired out for jobs.” Veronica stands back, trying to act casual but her eyes dart between Lena and Kara. No doubt worried about recognition. It would look odd if the undefeated champion wasn’t here.

“However, be aware that their record reflects the price of hire,” Veronica adds as Lena circles the very large woman.

“Of course. I’d expect nothing less. Do you have rates and records written anywhere? I would like to know what I’m working with.”

“Yes, of course. Robert, please give Miss. Luthor the List.” Veronica asks her guard as Lena circles closer to Kara.

It happens almost too quickly to follow. As Robert relinquishes one of his hands on the gun to rummage in a pocket. Alex grabs the muzzle and yanks it sharply down while throwing her shoulder into the man, throwing Robert off balance and tearing it from his grip.

“Move In!” Alex shouts. Putting her back to the only exit of the room and training the rifle on its occupants. Robert reigns his feet and makes to lunge at Alex when a blue streak slams into him and into the wall. One quick punch knocks him out and Alex doesn't flinch her gaze away from Veronica as Kara stands. Shouts and running can be heard in the corridor A couple shots of gunfire but it doesn't seem to be a full firefight. Alex is getting a constant stream of updates in her ear as each room is cleared and as many people handcuffed as possible. Veronica tries to protest but Alex flashes her FBI Badge and hands Kara the handgun strapped to her thigh to keep the muscled men and woman at bay who look like they have murder in thier eyes. Lena had moved to stand next to her armed compatriots as they wait for the team to retrieve them.

“I can’t believe you, of all people, are working the Feds.” Veronica sneers from across the room.

“My dear Ronnie, You took something of mine. I had to get it back. Despite how much I hate my family, I am still a Luthor and that simply could not stand. Also a chance to get you behind bars so you can stop showing up in my life. You, are a poisonous snake Veronica Sinclare, always striking when I’m at my lowest.” Lena holds herself proud and above it all. Veronica is about to retort when a quick knock on the door and it is opened.

Agents pour in, in full tactical gear and begin handcuffing each person inside. Alex waving them off Kara and pulling her and Lena from the room. Alex quickly leads the way through the hallways and back onto the street. Assault vehicles and flashing lights of police cars and ambulances add chaos to the night and a tall, dark-skinned man calls Alex over.

“Director. Any casualties?” Alex asks when she reaches him. Kara and Lena still on her heels.

“None. A few injuries. Only one gunshot wound. Many of ground floor escaped but I understand we have Roulette.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Very good Agent Danvers. Miss Danvers, please see one of our medics for your injuries before signing the release papers. You too Miss Luthor. Agent, I expect you in at eight sharp to fill out all the paperwork for all this as well.”

“Yes, sir.” Alex barely manages to suppress an eye roll as he turns away.

“I’m sorry, they know Kara is Andromeda?” Lena asks.

“We know everything. All right medic, now.” Alex steers Kara towards the truck holding the DEO medic. Kara tries to protest, but at this point, she is too tired to.

Once safely inside the truck, away from prying eyes, Kara pulls down her hood and mask. The medic does a quick look over Lena then begins a much more careful one on Kara. He unwraps her arm and cleans the cut, deciding it doesn't need stitches. The medic turns Kara’s face side to side as he cleans the cuts there as well. But Kara doesn't notice. Her eyes are fixed on Lena. They burn into Lena and The air is tense. Even tenser when the medic asks Kara to take off her shirt to check the bruising on her ribs. Finally the medic has them both sign a release form and instructs them to wait until Agent Danvers returns to escort them home before he leaves and closes the door behind them.

“Hi.” Kara rasps out.

“Hi.”

“You came for me.” Kara states.

“I did.”

“Because Veronica took something that belonged to you?” Kara raises an eyebrow.

Lena clears her throat. “Yes, well… I had to… I mean…” Lena searches for an excuse.

“Fuck it.” Lena lunges forward across the center of the truck to kiss Kara’s cracked lips. Kara winces and Lena tries to pull away with an apology already on it’s way out when Kara pulls the back of her head closer. They stay like that until Lena needs air. She pulls away and sees the deep desire in Kara’s eyes.

“I can’t just stay friends with you anymore.” Lena whispers.

“Me neither. Can we start over?”

“Yes, please.”

[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, JULIE! You’ve been accepted for the role of TAMORA. Admin Rosey: Trinity is one of the characters that I had the most fun writing -- she very much evolved from my initial concept with her and has grown into this very independent entity that needs someone just as strong as she is to portray her. Writing her isn’t an easy task, nor is capturing the nuances of her character while maintaining a circumspect view of who she has the potential to become. Julie, I honestly don’t know how, but you managed to do all that and more. Trinity is very much welcome to step on all of Verona’s neck. Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

Out of Character

Alias | Julie

Age | 19

Preferred Pronouns | She/her/hers

Activity Level | 6/10, I think, with replies coming every other day - we can only hope.

Timezone | MST

Current/Past RP Accounts | Santino + Loretta

In Character

Character | Tamora / Trinity Zakarian

What drew you to this character? | Am I allowed to say everything? From her past, her present, to her potential future, I think everything about Trinity just absolutely fascinates me. The deliberate choices she has to make in her every day life just to walk among other people and be perceived as what she wants them to see is so interesting. It’s not necessarily just a woman performing for a nonexistent audience repeatedly because she feels she has to. It’s more of someone who could be perceived as almost otherworldly performing for an audience that is watching her, at all times. Trinity pulls the strings to her own marionette and is fully aware of that.

There’s always some sort of purpose behind what she does: she smiles half an inch wider because she knows that people will find the way it tugs at the line of her face more familiar. She stands with her spine rimrod straight because that’s what comforted her mother most when she looked at Trinity like she was some sort of animal in her own home. She stabs her wife thirteen times in the chest because she knows it will allow for a shallow mockery of the last few moments she had with her son. Verona is a city full of Gods, people worth revering, and Trinity chooses not to worship them time and time again. She has no feelings of reverence towards Cosimo, or Damiano, or even Fortinbras, even if he’s the one who originally brought her here, and if she ever were to feel that way, she’d choose to stamp them out under her heel.

There’s also the matter of this concept of warmth and humanity that Trinity feels is fully out of reach for her. She’s tried time and time again to connect in the way other people can and just can’t; she got a glimpse out of the corner of her eye, for some time. Maybe she held it in her hands for a little while before dropping it when she gave birth to her son. What happened to Alyosha is tragic, without a doubt, and it hurts my heart just to think about it. I think Trinity’s played those last few moments over and over in her head to see if she can pin down the exact moment she went from a woman to a corpse all over again. I think it’s interesting that Trinity knows wires have crossed at some point which shouldn’t have been crossed, and something that’s not supposed to be firing is sparking anyways. She’s sought out human connection over and over, and it seems to slip between her fingers every time. I’d love to explore that more thoroughly.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? | 

LET THIS WASP NOT OUTLIVE, US BOTH TO STING: Trinity's good at hiding; that much is obvious. She can mask even the ugliest of emotions with relative ease; making people think she's something she's not isn't a difficult feat. In Titus Andronicus, Queen Tamora bides her time by marrying Saturninus to save her own skin and get revenge. In sort of the same vein, I can see Tamora either going undercover in the Capulets somehow or forming a relationship of some kind with one of them to provide leverage over the Capulets for the Montagues. She's only just re-arrived in Verona, but like her bio says, her roots already run deep into the soil by the time February’s arrived. She's got nothing to lose and plenty to gain; donning a veil of warmth and affection towards a Capulet for whatever they'll give her in return could go far. And if she ends up reaching into their chest to claim their heart for her own, all the better: she craves warmth like roses crave the sun in the heat of summer.

TITUS, I AM INCORPORATE IN ROME, A ROMAN NOW ADOPTED HAPPILY: Faron brought Trinity to Verona with a purpose, and that purpose in my mind was likely to use her actions to vault himself to a position of power. But Faron is dead, and any motivations for his relationship with Trinity are buried with him. She can't speak with the dead, as much as she wishes she could some nights, if only to hear her son's voice. She has no skill in divining the future. This really depends on the direction of the game and what the other players on the table, but in the hands of Gertrude, Antony, Laertes, or even Romeo, I feel she has the potential to help turn the tides for the Montagues in the same way she did for Faron. There’s no love lost between Fortinbras and Tamora—give her the opportunity to claim what she wishes, and she’ll bark for someone as much as she’ll bite.

THRICE NOBLE TITUS, SPARE MY FIRST BORN SON: This one is a little far out there, so please bear the fuck with me. Trinity, if she were to ever discover just what Vivianne did to her own son (who, keep in mind, when abandoned was the same age as Alyosha when he died), would set her sights on Vivianne and wouldn't stop until she felt satisfied. Whether that means Vivianne's death, or throwing a big enough wrench into her plans that she falters in the face of Cosimo, Trinity's willing to take whatever opportunities are presented to her. This sort of goes in-hand with wanting to explore just how deeply Alyosha's death has impacted her; I don't think Trinity's ever looked it head-on in the mirror, and confronting Vivianne might finally give her the chance to see in herself what everyone else has over the course of the last year and a half.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Let her reunite with the one person she truly cared about :)

In Depth

In-Character Para Sample:

TW FOR MURDER

The claiming of Hotel Emelia is a droll affair, in much the same way she’d expected it to be. It’s also a quick one: from the time she and Ronan are approaching the front desk to waiting patiently for the elevator to reach the top floor and look for those who might remain, it takes twenty minutes. Maybe half an hour. The elevator lets out a soft ding to indicate it’s reached its final destination.

There are only two guests on this floor, but it doesn’t stop Trinity from reveling in the way the attendant shakes as she unlocks each and every door with the master key. They all creak open, slowly, to reveal nothing but a dark room and some neatly-made beds. Ronan’s shaking with barely-restrained excitement and impatience by the time they reach the end of the hall.

“You want to get done, Richard. You have plan, after this, hm? Usually you go slow.” she asks, as the woman with SOFIA on her name-tag trembles so much she nearly drops the key. Trinity watches as Ronan presses the end of his M22 closer to her spine, harshly enough to make her jump.

“I’ve got some house calls to make, Tamora,” he tells her, like that explains why he’s rushing through this with a near primordial if not sadistic focus. It doesn’t matter. He’s a bizarre specimen, even among the Montagues, same as she -- it’s why they’re the perfect pair for this sort of task. The door clicks open. This room is not empty like the others; the lamp on the desk is on, and the shower is running in the bathroom. 

She looks over her shoulder: “I’ll take it. You can cut chaff from rest of wheat. Be good.” When she shoots him a pointed look, he shrugs, but chooses not to say a word. Wise of him.

She enters the room, closes the door behind her. It makes a sound close to a whisper when it thuds shut, and it’s only when Trinity can hear Ronan limping away with the clerk’s tapping footsteps just ahead that she proceeds. With one hand she reaches for her knife, and the other for the bathroom handle. It opens, she’s pleased to discover. Steam rushes past her as she encroaches further.

Whoever it is in the shower, they’ve got their back turned towards the spray, a hand running through their hair. She reaches out, black painted nails grasping the shower curtain -- and smiles in outright delight when the man behind it screams loudly enough to be heard for miles.

The first time she’d ended someone’s life with a knife and nothing more, Trinity’d been shocked to discover just how easy it was. There had been no resistance. By now, it’s almost mundane, like chopping vegetables for a stew. One after the other, right into the pot.

Rivulets of red run down her arms, stain the front of her vest, and all the man does is watch in mixed terror and confusion. It’s close to what she wants, but not quite enough. She wants fear. Terror. Downright horror. Oftentimes when an individual is stabbed it feels like being punched, before the sympathetic nervous system starts doing its proper work. There are maybe a blissful thirty seconds of confounded gasping, pleading, and scrabbling to pull her hands away from him before he drops like a sack of bricks. This nameless creature, whoever he is, whatever he did? He dies gasping on the floor of the too-small shower. His blood is still warm, at first. but it’s soon cooled by the running shower. It’s as disheartening a realization when she sees the shower has aided in removing most of it from her hands, too.

She watches the rest run down the drain, and then steps out and leaves him there. Any mark of what she’s done is, for the most part, washed clean before it had the chance to stain. She gives herself a passing glance in the mirror. Raises one corner of the mouth, then the other, and smiles at herself with all her teeth. It’s like looking at a stranger and her closest friend all at once, her eyes lit up like the stars. Smile for the cameras.

Ronan is waiting for her in the hall, the clerk next to him, tapping out a text to Damiano - she can only assume. If she’s right, it will read something like food is waiting on your desk. Some foolish, stupid little signal.

She nods at Sofia, clearing her throat. Ronan glances up, turns the phone off, slips it into his pocket. “What are we doing with her?”

“Her?” He’s already looking away. Wonderful.

When Trinity steps closer, the young woman shakes like a leaf. It worsens when she raises her hand and smears whatever remains of the man’s blood over her mouth — it ruins whatever lip gloss Sofia's chosen to wear for her shift that night, without a doubt. For a moment, Trinity wonders if she’s going to vomit. She smiles, and reaches back to wind her her fingers through Sofia’s blond hair. It’s dirty-gold in hue. She’s sure it shines under the sun, but in the overhead lighting of the Emelia, it looks dull. Flat.

Sacha’s had been so light it’d been close to silver. Trinity can remember the way her wife had purred whenever she’d played with it, even when it was something as simple as fingertips ghosting over her scalp. She presses her mouth into a thin line before speaking with some resignation. “You did very good, solnyshko.”

“You don’t have to do this,” Sofia whispers, staring at Trinity with eyes wide. Like a doe. Not a doe. A fawn might be better.

“I do,” Trinity replies, and the woman lets out a pitiful wail in response.

“You don’t have to do this, please, I have a daughter, my husband, a family, I only just got hired, I won’t tell a soul-” she’s quivering with it, and when she collapses to the floor and grabs at Trinity’s legs to plead, her hands cold and clammy, Tamora goes with her. There they sit, on their knees together: Sofia, sobbing, mouth wide open in resigned terror. Trinity, watching, waiting, feeling the thundering rhythm of her pulse as it quickens. So close to warmth. Just a few seconds away.

So did I, Trinity thinks. “You are... loose end,” she murmurs instead. The way she slits Sofia’s throat is precise. It’s over before the woman can cry out. Sofia’s weight becomes exponentially heavier, as she collapses to the side, with red running deep across her throat and staining the lavish green floors. Trinity ends up yanking out a clump of hair from her scalp as she goes.

She’s still plucking the strands from beneath her fingernails when they re-enter the elevator at the end of the hall, knowing the bodies will be swept away before anyone can so much as bat an eye. No one will wonder where the three on the top floor of Hotel Emelia went; if anyone asks, they’ll be quickly silenced.

 Ronan presses the button to take them back to the lobby, tapping his better foot in time with a silent beat. She smiles at him in thanks.

“You’ve got something on your teeth,” he says, brow furrowed.

She grins wider: A quarter of a centimeter, canines bared, swipes at the corner of her mouth with her pinky finger. Lipstick comes away, smeared dark against her skin. The elevator dings. “I know.”

Extras: 

Some thoughts:

The Zakarian family has their fingers in every pie imaginable, thanks to the reputation that protects them, but it was Sacha, Trinity’s wife, that had the closest affiliation with mob business in St. Petersburg. Over the fifteen year period of their marriage (they married young, and in-love, when Trinity was only twenty-two), Trinity danced with the best and worst of them: she knows plenty of members in the Russian mob, and considers them to be her closest allies, rather than the Montagues. When Sacha and Alyosha were so tragically killed, it was the Russian mob that paid for the funeral, with the Zakarians throwing some money at the problem to stem suspicion. She’s even somewhat familiar with Boris, even if he’s not from St. Petersburg.

Shortly before Faron’s death, on the fifth of November, she departed from Verona to visit Alyosha’s grave for the anniversary of his death. She didn’t return to Verona until the twenty-second, and missed Faron’s funeral. She still commit to the tradition of wearing dark colors for forty days and forty nights, however, and visits his grave semi-frequently. She’s not even sure why: she had no care for the man, and in the end, believes he faltered in his goals due to avarice and selfishness.

Her first language is Armenian, her second is Russian, her third English, and her fourth is Italian. She’s got a peculiar accent, but for the most part, she’s used to speaking Russian. Adjusting to Italian in Verona has been strange, although she’s not necessarily a woman of few words.

She’s been relatively-hands off when it comes to business dealings in the public eye since the death of her family. Her brother, Artur, has stepped up to the plate to ensure things are running smoothly. She trusts him enough not to make a mess of it, but I’m thinking maybe she sets up camp somehow in Hotel Emelia to ensure it stays in the hands of the Montagues.

I’ve got a playlist, and a pinboard.

[photochoco]

Two Sides of the Same Coin

Chapter 2 Introduction Surrounded by adversaries, Touko settles in. Team Plasma says trans rights.

-- The sun beat down brightly as the small group made their way along a rocky path. It was the beginning of summer, the air was not yet hot enough for the breeze that lazed by to be troublesome. All the same, Touko wished she had her baseball cap. Having black hair didn’t help, the back of her neck heating up uncomfortably. She grumbled and bunched her hair into a low ponytail. Brandon didn’t seem to mind the heat at all, even in his Plasma uniform which covered every inch of skin and had a slim-fitting hood. Indeed, he hadn’t even broken out in a sweat as he, Touko, and several other new members they had met up with at their destination walked towards the Plasma base. Touko had no clue where this base was; as far as she knew they were in the middle of nowhere. Figures Team Plasma would have their base creepily away from civilization.

“Over here,” Brandon called to the newbies. He was standing in front of a small cave entrance that definitely looked like it led to...something. One by one, everyone was ushered in by Brandon, with Touko squeezing in last.

“What in the…” The sentence escaped her mouth, riding on a gasp that came out with it. Standing tall, deep in the wide, vast cavern, stood a massive building. There was only a faint light to illuminate it, but it sparkled. The other people around her had a very similar reaction.

“This is Team Plasma’s base?? You’re--” Touko was so caught up in her awe, she very nearly broke character. Cursing inwardly, she took a breath. “It’s-- wow!”

It really, truly, was the last thing she expected from Team Plasma. How did they afford such an extravagant structure? Brandon finally cracked a wide grin.

“Seeing the reaction of new members to our King’s castle is one of the best things about orientation. Come on, inside you’ll all receive your uniforms, identification cards, and rooming assignments!”

Touko made sure to stay right behind Brandon, ahead of the rest of the group. She absolutely had to see everything first, this was incredible!

Inside, the castle was even more grand. Shades of gold made up every surface, and the floor beneath their feet reflected like a mirror. There were even large fountains and indoor ponds lining the walls. The whole place looked like it cost a fortune.

Does N really own this place? Or does Ghetsis? Touko wondered. It certainly seemed much more aligned with the old geezer’s more opulent tastes, as far as she could tell. Once inside, the group separated based on where they’d be rooming (based on gender orientation). Touko went off with a much smaller group of women, while the men and went off in another. A third group was directed to the gender neutral barracks.

“Helloooooooo people!” A woman’s loud voice grabbed the attention of everyone. A new Grunt was standing with a hand on her hip, the other outstretched dramatically.

“Welcome to Team Plasma! My name is Andrea, and I’ll be helping you settle in. We are so grateful for your decision to serve our King and do whatever you can to help him achieve his utopia for Pokemon. As members of this organization, you will have a duty to uphold the integrity of our collective dream, so when you are both in uniform and out, be a good example. Remember, you represent Team Plasma!"

“Yes ma’am!” came a few enthusiastic replies from the group.

Andrea flashed a friendly grin. “That’s the spirit! But enough from me. Let’s get you all your uniforms, shall we? You gotta look the part!”

--

Touko struggled with her hood as it bunched her hair uncomfortably against her neck. Why did these stupid things have to have such tiny hoods?!

“Havin trouble, kiddo?” Andrea addressed Touko from where she was helping another Grunt select a uniform in their size.

“A little.”

“Here, let me show you a lil’ trick I’ve seen some other members use.”

Touko stood still as Andrea fiddled with her black locks. A sudden thought struck her.

“Hey Andrea, do you have any tips for uh...for staying cool in these clothes?”

“Ahahaha, you’re not the first newbie to ask that! Not to worry, the fabric of these uniforms is specially designed to breathe, allowing you to stay cooler in the heat and warmer in the cold. But, if you still feel like you’re standing next to a Magcargo, find some shade. There!” She stepped back to admire her work. Locks of Touko’s hair had been tugged out of the hood, the rest comfortably tucked against her head and neck; the weird-looking bulge had disappeared.

“Ah, thank you!”

“No problem! Now when we’re out in public, usually at rallies, you’re expected to keep your hood up because it looks more professional, but when we aren’t at events, you can pull it down. And! While I have your attention, it might be a bit interesting to tell you the history of our uniforms. As you have probably seen before arriving here, our uniforms are unisex, with the only noticeable difference being the smock length. Feminine aligned members tend to typically prefer the shorter ones I‘ve noticed, but you can choose which length you’d prefer, depending on which makes you more comfortable.”

A fond look crossed over Andrea’s face. “That was really helpful for my boyfriend, he was still transitioning when we joined. It helped alleviate some of his dysphoria. In Team Plasma, there is no room for transphobes or queerphobia. If anyone gives you a hard time about your smock length or anything else you wear off-duty, you come straight to me, and we’ll take care of it.”

Andrea’s words were heart-warming and reassuring, but all the same, Touko could not help but feel a twinge of irony.

So accepting...and yet. I’ve only ever seen you all be nothing but condescending and outright hostile to anyone who doesn’t have the same views about Pokemon as you.

A voice called from behind them. “Andrea?”

Touko froze. She knew that voice. Instinct made her turn.

N was standing there, and Touko felt a flurry of emotions explode in her stomach. Anger, hostility, nervousness, fear--

Fuck! Remember your training, Touko! Don’t let Bianca down she drilled you so haaaaaard--

Forcing an awestruck expression on her features (It was pretty hard), Touko quickly bowed low, taking care to obstruct her face.

“N--I mean-- Lord N!” she squeaked, taking great care to make sure her voice was pitched. “It’s an honor!”

“Oh no, please, there’s no need to be so formal with me! Er, you don’t have to bow.”

His tone of voice was one Touko had never heard him use before. It was much more casual, and much more pleasant. Her heart pounding in her chest, she raised her head. N’s eyebrows shot up, and for a terrifying second, Touko thought she had been found out.

“You look rather young,” N commented instead.

Pathetic relief washed over the teen. “I-I uh, I look rather young for my age, I’ve been told. I’m 19,” she mumbled.

“What’s your name?”

“Lysandra.” Feeling more confident, Touko added, “It means ‘liberator’.”

She and Cheren had spent a good while scoping out all varieties of baby name websites, looking for the perfect name for her alias. She figured the meaning would do a little to help her win favor in the organization. And it seemed to work, because N smiled widely. Touko had never seen him smile like that before, except when he was around Pokemon. It was a smile that reached his eyes, lighting them up even under the shaded brim of his baseball cap.

“What a beautiful name. Well, Lysandra, I want to express my gratitude for you, and all the rest of you who have joined today,” he said, addressing everyone else in the room, “Thank you, all of you, for joining our cause. I do hope you will continue to serve us, for a long time.”

With that, N excused himself from the room and was bowed out, much to his amiable protest. Touko watched him go, dazed. She’d done it. She’d fooled him. If she could manage to fool Ghetsis as well, she was really, truly in. She really could do this!

Andrea leaned to the side and caught an eye full of the grin that had crept across Touko’s face.

“Hehehe, another newbie caught in the snare of our Lord N’s good looks, huh? No wonder you seemed so nervous.”

Touko jumped. “W-What?!”

Another senior grunt laughed. “Don’t worry, love, you’re not the first newcomer to be completely taken with our King. But alas, even though he is a total heartthrob and breathtakingly hot, we aren’t allowed to flirt with him. The Seven Sages says he needs to focus on his objective, he can’t afford to fall head over heels with anyone right now. It really is such a tragedy…”

Andrea looked at her and snorted. “Le Fin, you are literally the biggest lesbian in Team Plasma.”

Le Fin looked mockingly affronted. She huffed and tossed her hair. “I may be a giant gay, but I can still appreciate a beautiful man when I see one!”

As the two playfully bickered with each other, Touko watched them, feeling oddly at home. Was it right to feel this way? She had not at all expected to be welcomed so warmly, nor had she expected everyone to be so...chummy with one another. They reminded her a lot of her two best friends. An ache rose in Touko’s chest. She missed them. She missed her Pokemon. But she couldn’t turn back now, she just got here, and successfully at that! She was going to see this through, welcoming atmosphere or not.

They’re still standing against me. They’re still aiming to take away everyone’s Pokemon, I won’t forget that.

Still, there wasn’t any harm in integrating herself a bit more. If she was going to play this part, she was going to go all out! --- -- --- <- Previous Next -> AO3 Link

[h3llostrang3r]

A Lifetime to Remember

Perfect Match 

Pairing: Dames x Mc Summary: One-Shot.Melina Park is searching for Dames. Word Count: 3,800 Warnings: Language,Sexual content implied(I don’t think it’s anything more explicit than what you would find in a Choices 30 diamond scene.) Notes: I miss Dames. I still haven’t forgiven PB. I give them all my monies and they couldn’t give me Dames during the finale. 

Do you ever have the feeling that someone is watching you? You know, when you get those urges to look over your shoulder even though no one has called out your name. Did you really see something out of the corner of your eye or was your mind playing tricks? Or when you suddenly look up from whatever you were concentrating on because you could just feel a pair of eyes locked on to you. Like you can just feel the heat from their body and it sends a thrilling chill right through you? I have been feeling this more and more every day for the past few months.

Maybe I’m paranoid. Maybe it’s wishful thinking. But it feels so incredibly real to me.

I’ve spent countless hours online searching for him…

Keegan hasn’t spoken to me since we took down Rowan and Cecile. She won’t give me any information on what happened to him. I’ve reached out to her and those I’ve found connected to her, but nothing. I don’t know why she’s ignoring me, I proved myself to her before - that I’m on her and all the matches side.

No signs of him and no body found. What the hell is that supposed to mean? I can’t think the worst. I refuse. I know he’s stronger than that. I need to know if Keegan or someone was able to fix his programing, he could have lost so much of what he had by now. He has to be out there somewhere …

That’s why I have spent so much of my down time online. Throwing myself out there. My online alias spreading like wildfire, ThePurpleHairPark. I’m in chat rooms, forums, social media outlets - there’s always someone watching,reading,lurking from behind their screen. The world knows about the matches and there are so many out there helping them. So there has to be someone that has seen him. All I need is one person to point me in the right direction. Or he can come find me. I know he knows how to. Or at least his past memories would.

Can anyone help me? Actually help me? The conspiracies, the theories, they’re insightful, but I need something more.

Where are you, Dames?

Please. I need you …

Melina sits back in her chair staring at the screen. She sighs heavily before she deletes the plead and publishes her newest post to her open forum. Her purple hair slightly covers her face as she hangs her head low. Some strand clinging to her cheeks as tears start to roll down her face. After a deep breath she wipes the tears and gets up to refill on her iced tea.

Melina was at the coffee shop close by to her apartment almost every day. Always getting looks from the customers coming in and out of the shop. She was never quite sure what they thought of her and her laptop sitting in her favorite spot by the window. She didn’t really care, she just wanted to make sure that she could be seen. Her goal was to be seen by him, by Dames.

As Melina stood in line, she checked her phone. No missed calls or texts from Damien. He had been so busy with work since they saved the President, she was thrilled that Damien’s business was booming, but it made it harder for them to make time for each other. They didn’t mind their low-key nights in just them, some takeout (Melina’s cooking still not improving, whoops) and a movie while snuggling on the couch. Yet, with Damien’s ever growing case files he would often come home, grab a snack and head straight to bed. Damien was still supportive of Melina spending time with Hayden, but even she seemed to be too busy for Melina lately.

Melina orders her iced tea - which is on the house, her friend Lily is now working at the register. Lily gives her a wink and flashes her a smile as she shoos Melina along. Melina mouths a, “thank you” as goes to wait for her drink.

Melina never minded being alone and single. There was always something to do, always a way to entertain herself or keep busy until she heard from one of her friends. So why was it now, when she had two loves in her life she felt most lonely? Even Nadia found time to be with Steve and his… abs. Luckily, her cousin would always make time for her at least once a week. But ever since they came out from hiding from Eros’ radar , life never went back to being carefree for Melina.

Her heart had been so full from being loved without judgement from two amazing people in her life, but now that love - where did it go? Had she expected too much? Was it unreasonable of her to want to see them more than 2 or 3 times a week? Melina’s mind often drifted to Dames when she was alone. There was still that spot in her heart reserved just for him. Which often ached at the thought of him, not knowing where he was or if he was even okay.

She had to find him. She needed the answer. Even if he didn’t want to see her again or even want to be with her, she just wanted him to be okay.  

Her name is called and she grabs her rather large drink and heads back to her spot. She stares at her computer a few moments - and there. That feeling. Her face grows warm, her heart begins to beat a little faster, the hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention. Her eyes look up from under her long eyelashes - slowly scanning the faces in front of her, nothing. She slowly turns her head to the left, no one looking at her. Her back is against a wall so it definitely was not coming from behind. Melina bites her lip as she returns her gaze back to her computer. No, no, that feeling is still there.

She froze - too scared to turn her head again. Move your damn head, Melina. Do it. She ordered herself internally. Did her body know something her mind didn’t? She blinked and a tear began to fall. Exhale, Melina - slowly she let out the breath she was holding. Her body relaxed and she allowed herself to look to her right, out the window she always had to sit by.

There he was across the street, just staring at her with his hands in his pockets and a sad look on his face. That creep, that handsome fucking creep.

“Dames…” she breathlessly says out loud. Her eyes grow wide, she has to hurry or she’ll miss him. RUN she screams in her head, RUN MELINA. She scrambles out of her seat, almost knocking her laptop off the table, but she doesn’t care. Her feet threaten to trip over each other, but she corrects herself. She pushes the coffee shop door open hard and fast, if there was someone about to get hit there was no way she was going to notice. She looks across the street again, he’s not there.

No. Fuck this noise. He’s not getting away without saying a word to me.

Melina’s feet take her to the busy New York street. Her first few steps are in the clear. “Dames” she cries out with every ounce of her heart and soul. “Dames, please.” Her next few steps just miss a car passing by. Her head is spinning, the cars honking in the background seem so far away. The yelling from the other pedestrians not even registering. Her feet stay planted in the street as she frantically looks as to which direction he could have gone.

The honking becomes louder and louder, her ears now pounding. That’s when she looks to her right and coming straight for her is a yellow taxi. Time starts to slow, her breath catches - she can’t move, she wants to scream. Then the feeling, when you can feel the heat of their body against yours. Except this time - it’s real. Her focus goes to him, but is blurred in a flash.

Dames grabs her at incredible speed and throws them both safely to the sidewalk. He envelopes her in his strong arms and shields her from the fall on to the hard concrete. Her legs sting, but that pain is far away from her mind. He holds her for a long time, her face nuzzled in his chest. Her arms tucked between their bodies, her hands gripping for dear life onto his jacket. She inhales his scent, that mix of cologne and rum that reminds her of that blissful night in Paris. In his arms felt so right, she could melt into his touch and not move for hours - but she could live without the dirty sidewalk.

“Dames…” She manages to whisper, “I thought I lost you.” Her body trembles in his arms as the reality hits her. He is here, he is real, he is alive.  She lifts her head from it’s safe space. Oh what she would give to kiss along that jaw and to his mouth. To sink into his lips and wrap her arms around him and never let go.

“Melina what the hell were you thinking?” His face so close to hers, his eyes filled with concern. He brings his hand up to her face to brush back her hair and it lingers as he cups her jaw. Did he dare move his face any closer? Threatening to crash his lips against hers and tangle his hands in her hair, bringing her closer to him and never leave her again.

Before she can answer they are being helped up by onlookers. Her gaze doesn’t move from him, she’s not losing him again. She thanks them and brushes them off as she moves closer to him - if he tries to run she thinks she can be quick enough to grab him by the jacket.

“Please, Dames. Just come to my apartment. Y-you don’t have to s-stay. I …” She drops her head for a moment as she lets out a deep sigh. Looking into his eyes - God, is this real? Is he really in front of me? She says, “I just want to know you’re okay. Our last talk to each other, that wasn’t fair - it wasn’t right. That’s not how things were suppo-”

“Melina…” The way he said her name made her heart skip a beat. “I’ll come with you. We can talk, I promise.” She nodded her head, still in disbelief. Instinctively, her hand intertwined with his. “Do you want to grab your laptop?” He asked as he motioned to the coffee shop.

“I’m not crossing that street again, today. I’ll text Lily to hang on to it for me.”

**

The walk back to Melina’s apartment was silent, apart from the noise from the city, but it didn’t phase either of them. Absentmindedly their thumbs would graze one anothers - fingers still laced together. When they reached her apartment Melina led the way, giving her hips an extra sway for him as they climbed the stairs. She wanted him to watch, and she knew he would. It took her a moment to fetch her keys from her crossbody purse and unlock her door, the adrenaline was kicking in again. This is a part of her life Dames hasn’t experienced first hand. This moment would be intimate one for both of them.

They made their way inside, Dames moved towards her living room, taking it all in. With her eyes closed, Melina slowly closed the door imagining Dames moving closer to her. His hands on either side of the door frame, closing in on her. His chest pressed against her back, his pelvis against her backside, and his lips hovering so close to her ear. She would turn around to face him and that’s when he would press her hard against the door, his lips kissing hers and his hands gripping her hips as hers would tug on his collar.

“This is a really nice place, Melina.” Dames says, snapping Melina out of her thoughts.

“Ya, thanks. Over here is the kitchen… Where I keep the rum. I need a shot, do you want a shot?” Her heart is beating so fast, her hands begin to shake. She makes her way to the cupboards and pulls out two shot glasses and his favorite rum. He sits on a barstool on the other side of her counter, one elbow propped up.

“Melina, are you alright?” His voice is filled with concern as he watches her move quickly.

“Mmhmm. I just, need to calm my nerves. It’s been so long and it’s all happening so fast.” She pours the shots and slides one over to him. He takes his and stares at it for a moment before he returns his attention to her. She raises her glass to him before throwing back the shot. He quietly lets out a sigh, then follows suit. She’s already pouring herself another round and is quick to refill his. The second shot burns her throat, but seems to do its job as it settles her down. She looks into his eyes and she can see the pain in his eyes. The pain he’s been feeling since Paris, since they left him behind in Tokyo to fight Cecile and all those matches. Her breath hitches when he takes her hand into his.

“C’mon, let’s go sit down. Okay?” He says as he leads her from the kitchen to the couch in her living room.

They settle onto the couch, space between them, but their knees slightly brush against the other as they face each other. Her arms are crossed against her body, gently tucked beneath her heaving chest. His hands are placed on his thighs, rubbing back and forth - not sure how he should proceed.

“Dames, where the hell have you been?” Melina breaks the silence, he can hear the hurt in her voice. “I have been endlessly searching for you, hoping and praying that you were alive and until today I’ve had no fucking luck.” The tears start to form in her eyes and her voices begins to shake. “Why now? I know you’ve been in contact with Keegan. Why have you been avoiding me when you know how to get a hold of me? Why? Why?” The tears fall and her cheeks are wet, she can’t wipe them away fast enough. They just won’t stop.

He hates to see her like this, it hurts him to see her cry. He wants to just wrap her in his arms again and bury his face into her hair. He wants to make her pain end, but he’s the one who did this to her - it’s his fault. It’s all his fucking fault. Fuck it, he thinks as he reaches for her and wraps her into a hug. He gently rocks her and she cries even harder. He whispers “I’m sorry” over and over into her ear. It’s not enough, she deserves more than just his words, even if he means it with every ounce of his fabricated heart and soul. “I’m so fucking sorry, Melina.” He says before she pulls back.

She wants him to look her in the eyes when he tells her why. Why he hid from her all this time without one single word, even if those words were “fuck off”, but he didn’t even give her that.

“Melina, I’m so sorry. I was a coward. I was scared to come back to you when I knew my time was coming end. Knowing I only had months to retain all my past memories and feelings. I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t bring myself to be near you and lose you all over again.” Melina couldn’t believe what ehe was hearing. He didn’t even attempt to let them try  -

“I eventually came into contact with Kaahn. I didn’t know if he could help me, but I couldn’t let Cecile and Rowan win. I couldn’t go down without some sort of fighting chance.” He sighed as he took Melina’s hands into his. They were so much smaller, and they were so soft. He loved how such a simple touch from her brought such warmth to him.

Her eyes grew wide, fucking Kaahn talked to Dames and he didn’t say a word?When Dames took her hands and it relaxed her for a moment, but she was still in shock. Who the hell did Kaahn think he was? “He attempted to fix my programming. Today is the last day before the original’s program was set to erase everything. Unfortunately, Kaahn doesn’t know if his override will work. I’m scheduled to… ‘reset’ if you will, at midnight. It won’t be until I wake up will I know if it worked. ”

Her world was flipping upside down. Her head was spinning, her heart was breaking, what was she supposed to do with this information? She finally had Dames back, but tonight he could be gone all over again. This wasn’t fair , Dames didn’t deserve any of this. He brushed her hair from her face, he wanted to comfort her as best as he could. He had already accepted what might happen to him, but this was all so much for Melina. He didn’t want her to have to endure all this. This wasn’t something she needed to worry about, she didn’t need to fuss over him.

“Stay with me.” Her eyes pleaded, her lips slightly parted in anticipation of his answer. “I know you wanted me to see you today. I know you weren’t expecting me to run like a mad woman into traffic, but …” she licked her lips and Dames let out a soft groan at the sight. “Please, stay. You’re finally here and I don’t think I can let you go.”

“What about Damien?” He questioned, his feelings for Melina meant the world to him, but he could never come between her and the person who he had to thank and curse for all these wonderful feelings.

She shook her head and said, “He’s surprisingly very open to me having intimate feelings for others. I don’t think you would be an exception. And it’s not about Damien right now. It’s about me and you right now, and right now I want to spend what could be last moments in your arms… if you want that too.”

That was all he needed to hear. He slowly closed the space between them, Melina’s sweet scent filling his senses, making his head swim. His lips found hers, they tasted like rum with a hint of peach from her iced tea that she had been drinking earlier. Her moan sent a tingle through his body. He needed more of her, but he was worried of what would come in the morning.  Dames broke away from the kiss and asked, “Melina, are you okay with keeping it light? I want to be with you so badly, but it’s not fair to you if I won’t have any memories in the morning. I …” Dames hung his head low, scared to meet his gaze with hers. Her warm hands cupped his face and she lifted his chin until he finally looked her in the eyes.

“I am perfectly fine with being held in your arms all night long, but don’t stop kissing me.” Dames stood up and brought Melina to her feet and embraced her in a hug. He lifted her up and she hooked her legs around his waist holding on to him like she would never let go, burying her face in his neck. He led them to the bedroom where they laid in bed all night intertwined. Both Melina and Dames fighting the urge to fall asleep. Their eyelids heavy, but their lips still finding each other. Both whispering each others names on their skin, and their lips. They both succumbed to sleep, the mental exhaustion too much for them to bear any longer.

**

When Melina wakes up she’s not sure what time it is. She can feel the warmth of the sun peeking through her curtains. Her face is still buried in Dames chest, her new favorite place to rest her head. She’s afraid to move, not knowing what will happen if she wakes him up. Will it be him? Will he remember her and the enchanting night they just had. Just him and her wrapped in each other, never letting go. She wants to cry, the anticipation driving her mad, she didn’t want this to end. She didn’t want to lose Dames again.

Moments passed and finally, he began to stir. She held her breath, this was it, the moment of truth. What would she even say if he didn’t recognize her - she guessed she could call Kaahn or Keegan and they would know what to do. Fuck. Why did it have to be this way? Why did this even have to be a thought?

She felt pressure on the top of her head. Was that? Was that a kiss? Another, and another on her temple. She couldn’t move, does he remember? 

“Melina.” He whispers in her vibrant purple locks. She looks up, and he’s smiling the brightest smile she’s ever seen. He’s beautiful, he’s perfect, he’s ….

“I remember. Everything.” He can’t stop smiling, his head clear of the fog that was his limited programing. Lifetime upon lifetime worth of memory just waiting to be stored. Kaahn did it.

“Stay with me.” Her voice gentle, she didn’t ask, she wanted him to know she wanted him.

“As long as you want me, I will always be here for you, Melina.” His lips found hers over and over again. They trailed along her jaw and down her neck. She moaned his name and begged for more. Piece by piece their clothes made their way to her bedroom floor. His groans grew louder the lower his kisses wandered. Her skin was soft, she was so beautiful and her taste was like ecstasy on his tongue. Melina’s moans drove him to please her harder and harder until she was trembling against his mouth.

“I want all of you, Dames. Please. I need you..” She begged between her panting breaths.

Dames kissed Melina ever so gently as he made his way between her legs. Their moans mingling as they moved against one another. Melina savored the pressure of Dames’ muscular body on top of her’s. She held him close, not wanting to let go. He was finally back in her life and to stay this time.

Dames is here, he is real, Dames is alive.  

[comeondowntosouthparkrpg-blog]

Jimmy Valmer

Does he like fishsticks?

Welcome back, Sym! You know what to do.💘💘💘

Im back. Real quick before we get into it- I didn’t see anything in the rules but if I wasn’t allowed to re-apply for a character I previously had (in my case Jimmy), I’ll gladly apply for someone else! c:

out of character info Name/Alias: Sympathy Pronouns: she/her Age: 20 Join Our Discord: Yes pls Timezone: PST Activity: 8 Triggers: n/a Password: Jimmy can fast pass my ass 💘 Character that you’re applying for: Jimmy Valmer Favourite ships for your character: Anything with chemistry. c;

in character info Full name: Jimmy Valmer Birthday: May 13th Sexuality, gender, pronouns: Pansexual | Cis Male | He/Him Age and grade: 17 Appearance: Jimmy is of average build and height, standing at 5 feet 7 inches from head to toe, and sporting a healthy figure (though he slouches often, making him a few inches shorter than he is). His hair is a soft shade of brown, trimmed traditionally short yet still keeping a nice messy wave. Jim is fairly strong despite his appearance, holding a bit of muscle in his arms. Battling with Cerebral Palsy since birth, he holds an off balance stance- called an Equinus or Tiptoe Gait- walking on his tip toes and making crutches a necessity in his everyday life. Unlike his left eye, his right eye muscles were damaged at birth, resulting in a “lazy eye”. It’s pointed upward, which naturally causes him to have pretty poor vision. He has been prescribed glasses, but rarely wears them in public since he thinks they make him look dumb. Battling through his stutter sometimes can be a challenge from time to time, but he has gotten better at it.

Personality: Jimmy is like a shining light in a dark cave. He is nothing but optimistic in just about every situation, always trying to lighten the mood with a good joke here and there. Standing up for and befriending other handicapped students has always been a big part in developing his friendship skills and giving him the opportunity to aid in setting up events at the community center. Comedy is his passion- nothing puts him more at ease (and occasionally stresses him out) than creating a joke he knows people will love. On rare occasions, he can overwork himself if absorbed in his writing too long- usually he’ll just call up a friend to help ease him out. Though he generally is a well mannered boy, every person has their downsides. Jim has shown to be very competitive, resorting to dirty tactics including sabotage and lying if he has a goal he desperately wants to achieve. This also includes taking sides that benefit his own ideals, and changing his mind at the drop of a hat if the situation calls for it. Though this doesn’t mean he will betray his friends. He will stick by his close friends no matter what, unless it’s a friend vs friend thing (then thats just free game).

History: Jim’s childhood was a happy one. Despite the hippies, homeless, and the bi weekly near destruction of South Park, his life was pretty sweet. He had a happy family, some kick ass friends, and something to always keep him busy. His main interests were with his friends, playing Superheroes, or Humans vs Drow Elves and getting into more trouble than it was worth. At around 14 years old he managed to land a steady weekend job at Skeeter’s Bar, doing skits and comedy routines for quite a while until he had to let go to focus on school. In his early high school years, he found it hard to pursue a career in comedy- the reality of a harsh world weighed down on him and it forced himself to focus on school subjects- like math and science- that were deemed more important than the arts (though he did manage to get a good few years in stage management for theater so he had something going for him). He had several on and off relationships, all relatively short-lived. During this, he discovered his attraction to males alongside females. Next to this, he decided couldn’t care less for labeling and his go-to answer for any questions regarding his sexual and romantic partner of choice was always “yes please”- which still holds true to his current self. Currently, Jim is around 17 years of age and finishing up Highschool. He has long since dropped the idea of college and has instead pursued his goal of comedy more up front, scheduling gigs and shows in and out of state. He has been received very well and has been offered a more stable showing and even offers of permanent residency at a few out-of-state clubs.

Sample paragraph: Winter was definitely in the air. Jimmy could feel the cold sting of the morning air through his warm purple jacket (a birthday gift from Token) and suppressed a shudder that threatened to creep up his spine. Despite the cold, the day appeared promising- the fog slowly clearing and giving way to some sunshine. Plus, there was a few things to look forward to- namely the holidays- and if Jimmy could guess, there was no doubt something was going to go wrong. It was pretty much a South Park tradition at this point. How this small town managed to stay in one piece, he’ll never know. Halloween was surprisingly tame this year. His father had gone out for Jack and Crack week (must’ve had one hell of a time too; still asleep on the couch when Jim left.), and he’d managed to get out of passing out candy to go run amuck with his friends. He smiled at the recent memory as he moseyed down the sidewalk, the only sound breaking the silence was the rhythmic clacking of his crutches on the concrete and the chirping of birds. Up ahead was the school. He felt his smile widen as he spotted Timmy and the others out front by the flagpole, mingling amongst one another. Crunching his way through the snow, he merged in with their little posse, entering the school. “Hey guys, what’s crack-a-lah- la- …hey guys, what’s crack-a-laeh-eh- …w-what’s going on?” He greeted casually, thankful that the school was warmer compared to the outside. Colorado was cold as fuck. He really needed to get used to it already.

Headcanons: nah Anything else: Faceclaim is Froy Gutierrez

[pineapple-scribbles]

Bullet Mates (Part 2)

Part 1🍍      Part 3🍍

A/N: I will most likely add a playlist to the chapters, I just have to find some songs. Personally, music and reading adds a nice dramatic factor to stories. 

Rating: Mature

Au: Mafia/Soulmate

Warning: Violent themes, and colorful language ;)

Word Count: +2.1K

I’m awoken to the sound of glass shattering. I quickly put my binding on, scooping up the clothes I wore the night before, then head for the bathroom. Once done, I pressed an ear to my door, closely trying to understand the conversation that echoed through the house. “That Poisonous Bitch!  Hyeona was the one that shot me!? Put up extra perimeters around the base, it won’t stop her but it will at least slow her down” I hear Jooyoung yelled, I freeze at my name being said. “Yes, sir. We found her set up across the street, which means she is definitely close.” the other man stated.  I curse quietly “Fuck! I should have hidden my shit better, so much for stealth.” I scolded myself for being such an idiot. I heard a shuffling towards my door. Then a knock followed,”May I come in?” he asked. I waited a few seconds before I opened the door, he smiles at me.

His face gleamed brighter with life than it had the night before.  “ How are you doing-” he paused realizing he didn’t even know my name. “Daejung. Moon Daejung” I introduced, bowing at him. I was grateful to have memorized that alias before I got into this mess. I couldn’t have him be suspicious, one hint of my real identity and he won’t hesitate to kill me. Jooyoung spoke up again, “If you’d like to join me for breakfast,  we can discuss your reward for your swift actions. I wouldn’t be standing here if it wasn’t for you” He said smiling. ‘Yeah, you also wouldn’t have almost died if it wasn’t for me’ I thought.  I gave him a curt nod, with that he left me.

Sitting quietly on the bed I tried to come up with a plan. I had to make sure that Jooyoung stayed alive, much to my dismay. Other assassins would come shortly after hearing of my failure. If he dies, so will I. It was too late to run away now, I had to make him trust me, but also to give reasoning to the association for not killing him. I was their top assassin, it’s always been that way. So for me to fuck up a mission, brings enormous consequences.  

My burner phone begins to ring in my pocket. I look to see the caller I.D. “Speak of the devil” I laughed unamused. I had to come up with something quick.“ Hyeona, where the hell are you!” My associate yells at me, I was originally supposed to meet back with him to confirm my kill, and get paid.  “I am within the confines of the target’s base.” I started, putting every ounce of authority in my voice. “I’ve made a call that we should infiltrate the Kim mob family.” I could hear him about to have a heart attack. He never goes against policy, it’s the side effect of being the council’s golden boy.

Which means he basically keeps tabs on us and reports any shit back to them. “What! You aren’t supposed to do that without a second consent from the council. You could get killed” He rambled on. Then he mentioned notifying them, and I knew it would be over if he did that. “Look here Ryder, if you tell the Council I’ll gut you myself and have you watch as you bleed out. You forget that I am a council member as well, so shut it before I make you. You’re under my charge!” I yell, so sick of his whiny ass. All I get was a high pitch “yes, Madame” and the call ends.

Tossing the phone back into my bag, I try to straighten up before heading out to breakfast. I hear a second knock at my door once I was finishing up.  Walking over, I open it.  ‘Ah for fuck’s sake.’ There stood the women from before, irritation coiled around me. She was totally oblivious to my change in mood. All she did was smirk at me as if she knew something I hadn’t. She began to speak,  “Follow me, Jooyoung is waiting.” Looking back at me while she walked towards the end of the hall. I trailed slightly away from her. We walk through a few other rooms before I can see a dining table, with an array of different foods.

There sitting at the head of the table was Joohyung looking deviously handsome. ‘Mhmm cut me a slice of that cake’ Almost drooling.  I try to shake these thoughts that seem to hit me full force, but I’m pulled from them when someone speaks. “ Daejung, you can have a seat right here.” Jooyoung motions for me to sit down, which happens to be the furthest away from him. I clenched my teeth at his order, I can’t easily follow commands, it goes against every fiber. I take a seat on the opposite end of the table. The table wasn’t very long, but it gave more space than I wanted from him.

This suddenly brought my focus to how quickly I had submitted to him, just because we may have a bond, didn’t mean there was any way in hell I’d let him control me. I appreciated the distance, It made it easier to think. I’ve disguised myself as a man, quite a few times that I could effortlessly keep in a role. It was a skill that has gotten me this far, otherwise, I would have been dead long ago.

I look down to my empty plate, I eyed the food. If it’s poisonous, I’ll pass out, and my cover will be blown. My gaze rises to Jooyoung and a few people that had taken a seat after me. They all had already dug into the food. I sighed in relief, pouring myself a cup of coffee, scooped up a single egg and some smoked salmon. I ate quickly realizing how long it’s been since I’ve actually eaten something.  

From the corner of my eye I see Jooyoung stop eating, he claps his hands together and waits for me to finish up. Once I down the last of my coffee I look at him, waiting for him to start speaking. Jooyoung clears his throat, “Daejung I’d like to give you a proposal regarding your reward” pausing for a moment, searching my face for any disagreement. “I’d like to recruit you into my..business.” He states, taken me aback. I didn’t think It would be this easy to get in. I internally smirked, at my unintended victory. I brought myself back to focus, trying to respond.  

I put an oblivious expression regarding the term ‘business’ that I knew all too well. “ What type of business do you do Mr.Kim?” I asked, seeing if he’d actually tell me. Jooyoung hesitated for a brief second. Straightening himself, even more, he took on a serious expression. His features became stern and sharp, it was this quick change of mood that kept me on high alert. I had almost let myself forget he was a mob boss, a quite brutal one at that.

His associates had taken notice of their boss’s behavior. He meant business and I was going to get it. “Does this mean you accept my proposal then? I can only tell you the specifics if you officially are in” Everyone looked at me expectantly, then I realized I had no choice. I knew his base location, I was a civilian in their eyes, but I already knew more than I should. “ Yes, I accept Sir.” I had to regard him formally, to show I was set on my decision. I was fighting myself having to speak such a way but like everything else. It was necessary.

Jooyoung shifted to his casual demeanor once more, rising from his chair. Almost simultaneously everyone stood up. I could tell each and everyone respected him. Even the woman, which I despised,  I gave recognition for such behavior.  Jooyoung walked toward the side of the table where I remained.  “Let’s discuss technicalities in my study” He didn’t even turn to see if I was, in fact, following behind him. Which I was, but the nerve this man had. If I could freely act put my impulses, I’d have him in a choke hold within seconds. There was no way I’d let just anyone treat me this way. I took a deep breath in and exhaled out all the ways I wanted to kill him.

Jooyoung stopped at a dark wood door, it had intricate carvings that displayed forest scenery. In the center, it said, ‘Qui fortis semperque erit.’ He walked in, heading towards his desk. I shut the door behind me, I saw a vast collection of books in various languages. In the center of the room was a large black desk, in front of grand bay windows. It smelt strongly of cedar and vanilla, I stood next to a scarlet red air chair facing his desk. My eyes met his, the intensity of his gaze sent my heart racing.  

He motioned for me to sit. “From here on out everything disclosed shall stay a secret. If you are found violating these terms, there will be severe consequences” I sat unmovingly, his threats brushed off me. I wasn’t affected at the least, but I had to show that it frightened me. “Y-yes, I understand sir.” Jooyoung nodded at this. “Before you can start working, you are to train.”  In our line of work, one wrong move can get you killed. You’ve witnessed that.”

As he went on to the specific training I zoned out, all I could think about was last night. ‘The feeling of his skin when I treating his wound, his red lips that looked so kissable I’d just-’  Then Jooyoung asked me a question, calling my name. “Daejung, are you willing to be the family’s doctor? We need one, and you’d be perfect for the job after training.” I got very flustered, but he paid no attention.

I’ve  thought about it before, about what my role would be if I was to enter the Kim mafia. I naturally swayed towards being their personal hitman, but that would be a dead give away because of my acquired skill set.  A doctor would be the best cover, “yes I would be willing to do so, I believe I could be most successful in that position.” I stated.  I had a few questions, preferably about my living arrangements. I lived in an apartment close by, but I’d only rented it for this job. I’d have to pay another month’s worth of rent if I had to stay.

I barely owned anything to be significant to use anyways. “Mr.Kim, where you I being living while I am trained?” I asked. He was shuffling through papers while he answered. “You can live in the room you’re in now for the time being. Here please sign this.” He handed me a few documents. I looked through them, most were about basic information; Residence, birth date, age etc. The last one was interesting, it disclosed all the rules. It was a little booklet, I signed the bottom and the rest of the documents before handing it back. I had a clean, and efficient allies, the association makes sure it can pass all background checks. Even governmental ones.  

He briefly looks through it. “You’re 22?  Quite young to have such extensive education. You are turning out to be a strong candidate for sure.” smiling, he gives me an access card and a burner phone. His fingers come into contact with mine for a short second and my body turns to fire. Jooyoung gets up to walk me out, I was trying my hardest to keep face. “Thank you Mr.Kim”. I said. He shakes his head, chuckling. “ No. no.  You’re the one I should be thanking. We are even yes?” He asked

I nodded in response. I headed towards my room.‘Yeah, this doesn’t even cover it. Even my ass’ Scowling at the complexity of how this situation is turning out. I knew when I’d meet that certain person, it would be complicated but this doesn’t even fit in the same ballpark of complicated.

Opening the door I see that the room has been stocked. The closet had varies colored suits, dress shirts, and casual clothes. The same goes for the drawers, all the basic essentials were placed in my room. I was missing my usual attire, makeup and overall just being able to be myself. I took off my suit, I scanned the various colors of blazers. The burner Jooyoung gave me began to ring. Answered it, I could hear Jooyoung at the other end. His voice came out deep and velvety. “Hello?” I said. “Training begins at 5 pm, be there dress comfortably, we are sparring today.” He ordered, then quickly hung up the phone.

Removing my undershirt I could see that the bullet wound was healing nicely, but if someone touched it, it will hurt like a bitch. I looked at the clock, 3:30 pm. I had about an hour and a half before I had to show them my fighting. Which meant I’d have to hold back, this dampened my mood. ‘How was I supposed to act weak? I might accidentally kill someone just by sneezing’.  

‘Well, Shit….’

Thank you for reading! 

[sceawere]

another time pt. 7 | alfie solomons

[part one] [part two] [part three] [part four] [part five] [part six] 

“Oh, for fucks sake” Alfie exclaimed and collapsed into the armchair.

“Listen, mister-“

“I was trying to be a good man. I was trying to play it by the book, just once” you sighed and dropped to perch on the arm rest of the sofa, watching his theatrics “and this is the thanks I get”

“Are you done?” he shot you a look, dropping his arm to the rest.

“Yeah, I’m done”

“Good. Because as thankful as I am for the…dead ladies clothes” you paused “I really am going to need some knickers, Alfie”

-

Alfie shut the door behind you and moved back around to the other side of the car. You did a double take, moving your focus from the clasp of your bag to where he was scurrying away.

“Uh…Alfie?” you tottered after him, trying to avoid the puddles in the unfamiliar heels as you stepped off the curb.

“There you go love. I’ll wait here for you. Come get me when you’re done and I’ll pay it off for you. Don’t rush yourself” he replied, opening his door again. You threw your arm out, flattening your palm against the surface.

“I’m not going in there alone!”

He looked up at the building, then back down to you.

“Well, I ain’t coming with you” he scoffed, an incredulous look on his face.

“Alfie! What if I slip up and blow my cover?”

He paused, eyes flicking back and forth.

“What cover? You’re just going to buy some knickers, she don’t need your life story, love – what situation are you possibly dreaming up that-?”

“Alfie, please! I’m very definitely in unfamiliar territory and I feel better when you’re with me. Just…you’re going to need to hold my hand for a few weeks, alright? Just until I find my feet properly”

He sighed, looking up and down the road.

“Alfie, please” you implored and he slammed the door, taking your hand in his. You brought your eyes down to where he was entangling your fingers as he led you up onto the curb.

“Alfie? I was being metaphorical about the-”

“Play along, darlin’. There’s a good girl” he scowled as he shouldered the door open and you flared your eyes up at him, mouth opening to fire back at him. You never got the chance as the women in the shop was on you like a shot.

“Good morning! How can I help you?” she crooned in a tone of semi-sincere chipperness only retail workers can muster at such an hour.

“How you doing? Listen, my wife’s having a right day of it – we’ve just got back off honeymoon and-“it took you a second to register it but you turned your head up to him slowly, your confusion plain on your face “the whole house has gone up hasn’t it?”

“Oh, no!” she exclaimed, Alfie playing along a little too well with his sad little nod, the sincerity on his face. You rolled your tongue into your cheek, cocking your hip so you were turned into Alfie’s side. He wouldn’t meet your eye but you could see that damn glint.

“Yeah, fire in the night, neighbours say. Just-“he threw his free hand up in the space between you and the woman gasped dramatically. You had to roll your lips between your teeth and turn yourself back towards the entrance to avoid bursting out laughing. Alfie squeezed your hand a little too tight when you let out a squeak you couldn’t quite contain.

“See, look what it’s done to her” you coughed as another laugh rolled through your chest, trying to turn it into a half convincing sob.

“Oh, I can imagine! I’m so sorry. And to spoil such a lovely time for you” you hoped she couldn’t see the reflection of your face in the glass as you shook your head, the widest smile on your face as your pinched your lips together. You felt a pat on your back and you cleared your throat, turning back around to meet her eye.

“Yes, it’s…been quite a troubling few days” you made sure to furrow your brow and nod solemnly.

“Yeah, so she’s going to need to start from scratch. Fully kitting out, the works-“

“I think the lady understands, Alfred” you squeezed at his arm, leaning your head against it, and putting on your best ‘oh, what’s he like!’ face. The woman tilted her head and gave you a sickly sweet smile, an honest one. Bless her. This was turning out to be more fun than you thought. At least it seemed like you were never going to be bored here.

“Well, we’ll do our best for you, Mr and Mrs…” she trailed off.

“Sol-“

“Summerfield” Alfie cleared his throat, interrupting you. You flicked your eyes to him and he motioned to you with a smile “She ain’t got used to not using her maiden name yet”

The woman laughed and turned, fetching something from behind the counter.

“What’s that all about?” you whispered to Alfie as he leaned down to you.

“Can’t have it going round I’m showing up in knicker shops with strange women, can I?” he replied, unhooking your hand from his arm.

“And I’m your wife now, because…?”

He scowled down at you.

“Because I can’t have it going round I’m showing up in knicker shop with strange women” he repeated as if it was the most obvious thing. He had a point. 20th century morality was going to be something to get used to, you noted. He began to free your hand from his while you were distracted and stepped away “There you go, got you set up. I’ll be in the car”

“Woah! No, sir. You’re going nowhere” you grabbed at his hand, skittering after him and yanking him back around.

“Love, I’m not-“

“I’ll tell Esther you abandoned me!” you threatened and he got very serious.

“You wouldn’t”

“I’ll tell her you left me to fend for myself in a strange place, all alone in the big scary city” you made a fake cry face, plumping up your bottom lip. He shook his head at you and growled in his throat.

The woman cleared her throat behind you, bouncing on the toes of her very shiny heels. You turned back over your shoulder and shot her the widest smile you could.

“Do you have your current measurements?”

-

“How long have you been married now?”

You took in a deep breath before you replied but the woman interrupted.

“Oh goodness, sorry. Can you go back to how you were? Shouldn’t have you asked you in the middle of a measurement”

You exhaled, lifting your arms a little more as she adjusted the tape measure.

“Perfect, all done” she stepped away and disappeared off through the curtain and you took the time to quickly stitch together a story in your head. Standing there in your vest and pants like a kid who’d forgot their kit on sports day, desperately trying to come up with something cohesive. You settled on what Alfie had told you – keep it as close to the real story as possible, avoid details and slip ups.

She returned after a few minutes with some samples and you shuffled so she could put them on the hook.

“I got a selection, you can let me know what you like and I can refine it slightly”

You flicked through them, trying to pick the ones that were closest to what you were used to wearing as possible. A few odd but pretty looking ones took a second look but ended up in the maybe pile. When’s the next time you were going to get to buy fancy stuff here? Might as well treat yourself.

“So…how long?” you paused as she asked, flicking your eyes to hers. She was sincerely bouncy, you’d concluded. She was just one of those people.

“Uhh…just a few weeks now” A necessary lie, you told yourself. You were going to have to get good at those, might as well have some practice at something insignificant.

“Oh! How lovely!” she let you go back to flicking through the pile, moving things about as you changed your mind and switched their piles “how long have you known each other?”

You smiled to yourself and inhaled. You couldn’t find it in yourself to be annoyed at her when she was doing her best to be lovely.

“Not long” you handed her a definite no “Whole things been a whirlwind, start to finish”

You weren’t lying.

“How romantic”

You hummed back at her. She managed about ten seconds before she was at it again.

“Where did you meet? I love a good meet-cute story”

“Uhh…I was…” you scrambled for the best explanation and she raised her head when you laughed “I was lost. I was really lost. And Alfie took me home. He looked after me”

She didn’t reply, smiling down at the hangers in her hands. Your tone had dropped as you spoke, settled into a quiet affection. You lowered your eyes, thinking of what you’d been doing at this time yesterday. Picking out your dress, picking out your shoes, oblivious to what was coming. You quirked your lips, taking a clean breath, and handed over the hangers to her.

“Uh…these are the ‘no’s’. I like the…I like the blue, though”

She nodded to you, almost shy.

“I’ll see what we have”

-

Alfie was sat on a fancy sofa in the outer room as you exited. He was leaning back, keeping his eyes on the door. Probably checking no-one could see him from the street. He turned at the sound of your scoff. Emily, as you’d learned bubble-girls names was, made her way out with the armfuls of lace and ribbon and he turned his head back.

“You cleaned me out, have you?”

“Well I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to go without, would you hubby?” you swayed as you spoke, giving him a satisfied smile. His eye twitched before he rose, stepping to you.

“No, see, if I was your husband, I’d be getting a treat when I got home, wouldn’t I?” he near whispered, keeping his eye on the counter where Emily was wrapping and bagging your purchases.

“Oh, I don’t know. Play your cards right, hubby, we’ll see where this goes” you gave him a wink, turned on the spot, and left him nervously shuffling surrounded by pink velvet curtains.

-

You pottered into the kitchen, all cosy in your new pyjamas. Alfie smirked as you walked in, chopping up vegetable for whatever it was he was making.

“You laughing at my jimmy-jams, Mr Solomons?”

“Wouldn’t dare, Mrs Summerfield” he emphasised and you snorted a laugh, making him laugh along. You pulled yourself up to perch on the counter and he shot you a look.

“Where did that come from? Did you make it up on the spot or do you have alias’ just stored away up there?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he teased.

“It’s why I asked”

He smirked again, dropping the knife. He moved in front of you, reaching for your hips and you had no idea what to do. He gripped them, dragging you forward and lifting you to the floor. He shuffled you out of the way and you tutted as he laughed and opened the cupboard that had been behind your head.

“There was a picture on the wall” he said, shutting the cupboard and dosing out herbs into the pan.

“What you talking about?”

“Summerfield. There was a picture on the wall…of a-“

“Summery field. You are kidding me?”

He turned as he stepped back, shrugging.

“I had to think fast, like you could do better”

You let out a breath of laughter and dropped into the seat.

“I went up and had a chat with Esther while you were on the phone”

“Oh yeah? You getting cosy?”

You smiled at him, fidgeting with the patterns at the edge of the table.

“She wanted to check up on me”

“She’s like that” he flipped the pan up and you realised he knew what he was doing here. Alfie Solomons, big bad gangster chef.

“Was Esther living here when you moved in?”

“It’s why I moved in” he replied, throwing a tea towel over his shoulder. He gave you a look and you smiled back at him. He turned to put a new pot on the hob and turned his back to you.

“This’ll be ready in about 5 minutes if you wanna go get sorted, love”

“When you said you bought this place, I thought you meant the flat. But you meant the building, didn’t you, Alfie?”

He gave a little pause, bending to check on the bread in the oven.

“I did yeah”

“You own this whole building?”

“I do” he continued stirring the pot. You turned in the seat so you were across it, leaning your back against the wall and pulling your legs up to hug to your chest.

“They were going to kick the old ladies out” you continued.

“They were”

“So you bought the building so they couldn’t”

“I did”

You smiled, dropping your head.

“You’re a good man aren’t you, Alfie Solomons?”

“I am not. Wash your mouth out or you won’t get any supper” he replied and you laughed, letting your feet drop to the floor. He turned his head slightly as you approached, before looking back to his work. You pushed up on your toes and pecked a kiss to his cheek.

“Your mum would be proud of you” you gave a squeeze to his arm before you moved around him and stepped out of the room. You heard him hum and the sound of pots and pans paused until you were nearly at the bedroom door. There was a sudden pop and crash and you were about to turn and check everything was alright when you heard his shout.

“Maybe make that 10 minutes, yeah?!”

[letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked]

Crazy

Bucky Barnes X Reader

A/N: The song is Patsy Cline’s ‘Crazy’. I sang this at a karaoke bar, recently, and it’s been stuck in my head… so I figured this would be the song I would use for this fic... Hope you like it! ALSO I do the same thing as her... I totally stress bake LOL

Y/N = Your name. Y/M/N = Your middle name.

Not really a song-fic, just includes the song for the plot… unless that still counts… I DON’T KNOW!!

Warnings: She swears, a lot…? Fighting, blood, etc.

Word count: 3,340ish... oops.

 Masterlist

Finally, some peace and quiet, I thought to myself, sitting in the empty Cryo lab that held the frozen Winter Soldier.

Things had been hectic in the last couple years. My sister, Sharon, had recruited me to sit in Wakanda with her “we don’t talk about what we are, but we are” boyfriend, Captain-fucking-America, and I was less than pleased. Before all of this, I was a 23 year old who was just starting training to become a SHIELD agent. Then, things went to shit. S.H.I.E.L.D disbanded, and I was forced to lay low, because I was another Carter associated with them. My sister had joined the CIA as a cover, and I was stuck trying to figure out what else I wanted to do with my life.

I had just started classes at a community college when the Sokovian Accords caused a Civil War. Sharon had made me go into hiding, because she was worried that I was going to get hurt. As if I didn’t know how to defend myself. Then she had to go and get herself fucking involved. She had decided it would be a great idea to help Steve, who was a fucking fugitive at the time. When that shit was over, she sent me to Wakanda to be protected with King T’Challa.

So, here I was, two years later. Sitting in the lab, again, doing online college work under an alias, with my headphones in, trying not to let the frozen soldier freak me out.

“Crazy, I'm crazy for feeling so lonely. I'm crazy, crazy for feeling so blue. I knew you'd love me as long as you wanted, and then someday you'd leave me for somebody new.”

Singing along with the beautiful voice of Patsy Cline for the hundredth time, I tapped my pen, trying to mentally prepare myself for my upcoming paper due.

“Worry, why do I let myself worry? Wondering what in the world did I do? Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you. I'm crazy for trying and crazy for crying, and I'm crazy for loving you. Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you. I'm crazy for trying and crazy for crying, and I'm crazy for loving you.”

I stared at the wall of windows, deciding that procrastination was my best bet, since I couldn’t focus. I hit repeat on my phone, singing the song again. Halfway through, I felt someone tap my shoulder and jumped, ripping my headphones out, “Jesus Christ!”

It was Steve. “What are you doing in here?”

I rolled my eyes, “It’s the only place that is quiet enough for me to do homework. Everywhere else, I feel like I am under constant surveillance.”

He smirked, “It looks more like you are singing and daydreaming, rather than doing homework.”

“What, you don’t like my singing?” I gasped, hand on my chest, feigning hurt, “And I wanted to try out for one of those TV shows. You crushed my dream, Cap. Crushed it.”

This time he rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his broad chest, “You know I like your singing. I just think you should do your homework. Education is important.” He stopped his lecture, grinning, “Somewhere else, though, because guess what?”

I raised an eyebrow, “What? Is Sharon coming? That’s usually the only reason you get that pearly white smile.” I wouldn’t mind seeing my sister…

“Nope.” He crossed his arms, proudly, “Today is the day that Bucky gets out of Cryo.”

_____

Bucky had a difficult time coming out of Cryo. He came out abruptly in Winter Solder mode, and ended up tossing Steve through the wall of windows. I was walking in the hallway when he busted out of the lab, in attack mode. I had immediately defended myself - since he decided walking with just a coffee in my hand was threatening - but his strength was too much for my mediocre training. That was, until I yelled, “Bucky, goddammit, snap out of it.” He hesitated. I had my legs wrapped around his upper arm, with his hand around my throat, but he stopped squeezing, a look of confusion on his face. In his moment of hesitation, they shot him with a tranquilizer, and he collapsed on top of me. Thank god I was flexible, because that was uncomfortable.

That was three months ago. I never told Steve that he hesitated. Bucky didn’t remember attacking me, nor did he even know who I was. Didn’t matter. I had very little contact with him, anyways, because Sharon ripped Steve a new one about Bucky trying to choke me out. I had to remind her that I had been in training with S.H.I.E.L.D before it collapsed, I was a fucking adult, and a Carter who could take care of her goddamned self.

Bucky’s room was down the hall from mine, but I barely saw him. I barely saw Steve, anymore, either. We used to eat dinner together, unless he was on a mission – but he was nowhere to be found, anymore. I had sort of relied on those dinners for human interaction, because I really didn’t know anyone in this compound. He had stood me up on at least six pre-planned dinner dates, and I was starting to get really lonely. I wasn’t allowed to leave, I wasn’t allowed to communicate with any of my old friends or go on social media, and I wasn’t allowed to call anybody. Sharon was too worried that I would be traced to Wakanda and they would find Steve. The only interactions I had were on some discussions for my online classes, and that was school topics.

One of the things that I always did when I felt lonely was bake stuff. Baking calmed me down. I spent an entire day in the kitchen. I made muffins, pies, cakes, cookies, scones, and even tried making Divinity. I was bored out of my fucking mind. It was about 9 O’clock at night before a single person walked into the kitchen, and it was Bucky Barnes.

I didn’t notice him at first, because I was bent behind the counter, looking in the window of the oven, checking on some cookies. Until I heard someone humming a familiar tune. I turned around and saw him sitting at the kitchen table with a book in his hand, munching on one of the muffins that had been on the counter. “Oh, hey, Bucky!” I said cheerfully.

He jumped, knees hitting the table, whipping his head over to where I was standing. I laughed, “Did I scare you?”

He nodded, “I didn’t think anyone was in here.” He took another bite of the muffin, “You made all these?”

I glanced at the counter, “Yeah, I went a little overboard. I had nothing better to do, today, and decided to make some sweets.”

He smirked, raising an eyebrow, “Some?”

I shrugged, turning around to take the cookies out of the oven and add the next batch. “It was either this, or continue working on my paper.” I moved the cookies to the cooling rack, “I’m procrastinating.”

He grabbed another muffin from the over-flowing counter, “Education is important.” Sitting back down, he grabbed his book, again, “From what I gather, education has gotten better over the years. You should utilize that.”

“Jesus, you sound like Steve. He gives me that lecture all the time.” I rolled my eyes, “If it isn’t education, it’s my health. He lectures me about making and eating all of these sweets, then secretly eats half of them.”

“I do not.” Speak of the Devil. “You’re the one who eats all of the sweets you make. You’re lucky you have the metabolism of a humming bird.” Steve grabs a cookie and sits across from Bucky, giving him a small smile before taking a bit of the cookie.

“Oh, my God. He is alive.” I say, crossing my arms over my flour covered tee shirt, “Captain A-fucking-merica finally has time to grace me with his presence.” I raised an eyebrow in annoyance, “Six cancelled dinner dates makes a girl very unhappy, you know. Thankfully, I’m not your girlfriend or this would have been one violent conversation. You’re lucky I don’t call your girlfriend and tell her that you have been neglecting her poor little sister to the point of stress-baking.”

“That might be my fault.” Bucky cut-in, soft blue eyes filled with guilt, “I’m sorry.”

I smiled sweetly at him, “Oh, Honey, don’t apologize. You aren’t the one who cancelled six dinner dates.” I glared at Steve, “Well? Anything to add?”

The giant shit-head was smirking at me, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you missed me.”

I narrowed my eyes, “I don’t miss you.” Yes, I do. “I just hate being stood up. Makes a girl feel unwanted.”

He frowned, standing up and walking over to me, “I’m sorry I neglected you, and made you feel unwanted.” He wrapped me in his giant arms, but I refused to hug him back. He looked down at me, “You really aren’t going to hug me back? Do I need to grovel?”

“Yes.” I pouted, even though I had already forgiven him.

“Fine.” He sighed, hugging me again, but picking me up this time, “Y/N Y/M/N Carter, I am so sorry for being a terrible best friend, and standing you up for our amazing dinner dates. Can you ever find it in your loving heart to forgive me? Please?”

I squealed, “If you put me down, consider yourself forgiven!” Jesus Christ he was suffocating me!

He laughed, putting me down and sitting back at the table. Bucky was chuckling, eyes back on his book. The kitchen was quiet, again, as Steve read a newspaper and Bucky read his book.

I finished baking after about an hour and started packing everything into Tupperware, when I heard Bucky humming that song, again. It sounded familiar. I couldn’t place it, though. “Hey, Bucky, what are you humming?”

He looked up, embarrassed that he had been caught humming, “Uh… I don’t actually know. It’s just stuck in my head.” His eyes went back to his book. “Sorry. I won’t hum anymore,” He said, quietly.

I walked over to him, handing him a cookie that wouldn’t fit in the Tupperware, “I don’t mind your humming. It’s relaxing.” Walking back over to put the last piece of Tupperware in the pantry, “I’m going to go to bed. Night, boys.”

“Night, Y/N.” Steve said, eyes still on his paper.

“Night.” Bucky said, still quiet.

           ________

               I woke up to a man screaming. It was an agonized scream, and made my heart pound. Jumping out of bed in a panic, I ran down the hallway and followed the screams to Bucky’s room. The screaming had abruptly stopped when I reached the door, and I threw it open, flipping the light on. Bucky was crouched next to his bed, breathing heavy.

               “Bucky?” I called softly from the doorway, “Are you okay?”

               His head snapped up, and I realized that I was not looking at Bucky. I was looking at The Winter Soldier. His eyes were the same hard blue that I had seen the first time he was out of Cryo, not the soft blue ones that I had seen earlier that evening. His eyes flicked around the room, calculating, before they landed back on me, “Who the hell is Bucky?”

               My heart rate picked up, and I tried to appear as non-threatening as possible. I probably shouldn’t call him Bucky, again. He might attack me. “It’s Y/N. I live down the hallway. I was worried when I heard yelling, that’s all.” I tried to keep my breathing even, looking as small as possible, but ready to defend myself if he attacked.

               His eyes narrowed, but they appeared a little confused. He stomped over to me quickly, pulling me into the room and slamming the door shut. “Why do I know you? Who are you really?” He shoved me roughly against the wall – cold, metal hand pinning me by the neck – his eyes scanned me for weapons.

               I kept my hands at my sides, trying not to move as I felt the panic shoot through my veins. Where the fuck is Steve? “I live here. I am just a neighbor who heard you yelling and came to check on you, nothing more.” Don’t look at him. Don’t look threatening. “Are you okay?”

               “Why do you keep asking me that?” He growled, hand tightening a little. I panicked a little bit and brought my hands up to his wrist, but didn’t squeeze. “Why do I know your voice?”

               My voice? I looked up at his eyes, confused, “What?”

               He threw me onto the floor, my head hitting the bed frame. I yelped, crumpling into a heap as black spots danced across my vision. I felt something trickle down my face. Shit. I was bleeding from a gash on my head, hot pulses coming from that spot down my head. “Bucky, please!”

               “Who the hell is Bucky?” He yelled, pinning me to the floor. Both of his hands were around my neck, squeezing hard enough that I couldn’t catch my breath. I grabbed his wrists with my hands, pulling my legs up to knee him between the legs as hard as I could. His grip loosened, and I wriggled and thrashed my way out from under him, choking on my breath as I scooted myself back. I tried to yell for Steve, but he was advancing on me, again. Using the momentum from his tackle to roll us so I was on top, I tried punching him in the face. His flesh hand came up and blocked the hit, and I used the distraction to bring the heel of my other hand to his nose. He swore, grabbing my ankle as I tried to crawl away, but I cried, “Bucky, goddammit, snap out of it!”

He froze, eyebrows pulling together, and I used that opportunity to kick him in the face, stunning him. I backed up to the other wall as he sat there - with a bloody nose - looking at his hands, confused. I took that opportunity to bring my hand to my pounding head, hand coming away sticky. My breath was coming out in pants, but I was able to talk to him calmly, “Your name is James Buchannan Barnes. Your friends call you ‘Bucky’. My name is Y/N Carter, and I live down the hall from you. I do not intend to harm you, okay? Please stop attacking me!” It came out as more of a croak, but it was calm enough.

He looked up, hair in his face and eyes shining, “Y/n? What happened? Did I… I hurt you?” Tears fell from his eyes, and he backed up to the bed, hand slipping in a few droplets of my blood from my head. “I’m so sorry.” He brought his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them and rocking back and forth. He kept whispering “I’m sorry” over and over again, as the tears dripped down his face.

I crawled over to him slowly, trying not to scare him. I pulled myself up to my knees next to him, placing my hand on his knee, gently. “It’s not your fault, Bucky.” Leaning towards him, I wiped the tears from his face, “It’s not your fault.” I brushed his dark hair out of his face, saying it again. He grabbed my hand, gently pulling me towards him and wrapping his arms around my waist. I shifted so I was straddling his thighs, and his head was buried in the groove between my shoulder and neck. His tears were sliding down the skin on my chest and I realized how little I really was wearing, with my boy-short underwear and tank top. I paid no mind, though, as he kept his arms tightly wrapped around my middle and continued to cry into my shoulder. I brushed one hand through his hair, the other along his back, and did what my sister used to do for me when I was upset: sing.

“Crazy, I'm crazy for feeling so lonely. I'm crazy, crazy for feeling so blue. I knew you'd love me as long as you wanted, and then someday you'd leave me for somebody new.” Patsy Cline’s Crazy was the first song to pop into my head. He visibly relaxed as I continued to sing quietly, still running my fingers through his hair and along his back. His arms were still tight, but he was no longer crying. He just needed some gentle human contact. When the song was finished, I pulled back, cupping his face in my hands, “Are you okay?”

His red rimmed eyes didn’t meet mine, but he nodded. We sat like that for a moment before he looked up at my head, “We should clean that up.”

“There is a first aid kit under all of the sinks,” I said, pulling myself up and holding out my hand, “Come on. Let’s get cleaned up.” I pulled him into his bathroom and dug under the sink for the first aid kit, motioning for him to sit on the edge of the bathtub. “Let me check out your nose, then you can clean my face.”

When we were both cleaned up, I gave him a moment alone in his bathroom, cleaned the blood off the floor, and fixed his bed. Then, I ran to my room to grab my phone and put on some pajama pants. He was just walking out of the bathroom as I walked into his room, again. I smiled at him, “I’m not leaving you alone, so get comfy.”

He shook his head, “I don’t want to have another nightmare and hurt you, again.”

I held up my phone, “If it makes you feel better, Steve is on speed dial. I will call him if it happens, again.”

He nodded, too tired to fight me on it. He got into his bed, and I shut the light off. The glow from the window lit up the room enough for me to navigate to his bed, setting my phone on the night stand and slipping under the covers. I shifted so I was facing him, “If you want to talk about it, you can. Otherwise, goodnight, Bucky.” As I closed my eyes, I felt him shift closer to me, reaching out and pulling us together. My back against his front.

               He was silent for a moment, arms around my middle again, and head resting between my shoulder blades. Then, he murmured, “That song you were singing… that’s the one I was humming. It’s been stuck in my head since I woke up.”

               I frowned, “When you were in Cryo, I used to do my homework in the lab, but I would usually sing and procrastinate, instead.” I ran my fingers gently along his arm, “I sang that song over and over again for months. I wonder if you heard me.”

He shrugged, “It calms me down. I hum it when I start to feel too stressed or anxious.”

I clasped my hand in his, lacing our fingers together, “Well, if you want me to sing it to you, all you have to do is ask. Anytime, anywhere.”

“Will you sing it, now?” He asked, voice strained with exhaustion.

“Crazy, I'm crazy for feeling so lonely. I'm crazy, crazy for feeling so blue. I knew you'd love me as long as you wanted, and then someday you'd leave me for somebody new. Worry, why do I let myself worry? Wondering what in the world did I do? Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you. I'm crazy for trying and crazy for crying, and I'm crazy for loving you. Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you. I'm crazy for trying and crazy for crying, and I'm crazy for loving you.”

The end.