#and also did light the vehicle on fire with the woman alive inside it

[achliegh]

Golden

Yeehaw Leo… it's all because this song came on one day (I don’t even really listen to country anymore so it really is fate). Leo is based off that song, each chapter is going to be based off a yeehaw song too.

Characters belong to @lumosinlove

Beta: @the-most-slyterin-hufflepuff & @punkkkboi

TW/CW: Smut, terrible yeehaw sayings and jokes, injuries, mentions of past death/suicide, minor character death, underage drinking, mentions of past arrests, cringe

Chapter Songs (listening in order is recommended):

Chapter 14:

Holiday Playlist

Sold (Dance)

Leo was freezing, shivering in the car with the heated seat under his ass and heat blowing on him. He changed his pants from the ice soaked ones earlier and his ankles were sore from his skates but he was happy. He made a good impression on Logan’s sisters, his mom texted him to let him know the sale went through, and he watched Clay face plant on the ice.

All was well in the world.

He was smiling to himself as he leaned back into the heat of the seat with his arms hugging himself, teeth only chattering a little bit. He is listening to Logan chat with his sisters in the back in fairly fast French-Canadian French, he knows Finn is confused. But Leo is listening to him tap on the steering wheel to whatever song was playing in his head. The radio is off because Leo doesn’t want to overwhelm Finn with too much noise in a small confined place. He would be miserable the rest of the night.

They pull up to Pascal's house and the Trembly siblings are the first out of the vehicle, leaving Leo and Finn in the dust. Finn kisses Leo’s temple after shutting off the car.

“Ready?” Leo smiles and nods, he is honestly a little tired but he’s excited to get a little drunk and just relax with the team plus the team’s families.

Leo grabs onto the handle to push open the door when it is suddenly flung open and he topples out face first first into the ground. Hearing someone gasp from above him he rolls over to his back and blinks a few times.

“I think… I broke my teeth again.” Leo runs his tongue over his two front teeth and feels the chip in his tooth is suddenly much larger, but still less than half his tooth so he doesn’t really care.He has broken his teeth way worse before. Ma will get a kick out of it. “That's fun.”

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” Aubry is helping him sit up and is grabbing his still dazed face and looking it over to make sure he’s okay. She looks over to her left and sees Logan looking at her and she can feel the anger rolling off of him. His arms are crossed and his hands are gripping his arms, Sydney takes one look at Logan and steps back a couple of feet.

“Can you let go of my face?” Leo mumbles, causing her to look back at him and smile a little at his squished cheeks. “Also I break my teeth all the time, 90% of my front two teeth are fake so…” He shrugs and smiles at her. She lets go of his face and Finn helps Leo up.

“Again I’m sorry Leo!”

“I feel like I look like Jason Derulo after he tried eating corn off the cob with a power drill.” He laughs at himself as he looks in the side mirror of the car. Rolling his bottom jaw a bit, popping his neck from side to side, then rolling his shoulders. He notices a scrape on his chin and his cheek. “Not gonna lie, I kinda look rugged.”

“Let’s go inside, get you a drink and an ice pack, yeah?” Logan takes his hand and smiles up at him, taking note of his scrapes and his chipped tooth when he smiles back.

“Yes please!” They all make their way inside to find families just chatting on the couches in the living room, people drinking wine and eating little horderves that Celeste and Adele put together. Leo is led to the kitchen where the two chefs were.

“Oh Leo, did you fall on the ice after we left?” Celeste looks at him as she hands him an ice pack wrapped in a paper towel.

“Non, Aubry opened my door with me attached to it and I landed face first on the concrete. Broke my teeth some more but.” He shrugs and his nose scrunches as Logan dabs at his scrapes with a wet paper towel. “Okay! Okay! I’m Okay! OW!” Logan sighs at Leo’s dramatics and goes to throw the paper towel away.

“So you’re the man with the terrible singing.” Adele looks up at Leo from where she is cutting pinwheels. “I wondered if you were ever going to appear.”

“You don’t like my singing?” Leo smiles at her and she smiles back. “Wait, when have you heard my singing?” He absentmindedly starts helping her put pickles on sticks. He remembers catching a glance of her the first time he visited Pascals’ but he doesn’t remember singing when she was around.

“When Logan was really sad after Louisiana, he would only fall asleep to these videos of you singing in front of a fire pit. It was really annoying for a while.” Leo is silent for a moment, Adele looks up at him and notices how he is trying to keep his face blank but the frown lines are still ghosting. “He is better than ever now that you are with him and Finn though, he blabs about you two all the time.” That makes him smile a bit.

“No! Alex! Let go!” Leo and Adele turn around to see an older version of Finn keeping Logan in a headlock. Leo hides his smile by sucking in his lips and holding them between his teeth. “Ah!” Logan is suddenly on the ground with Alex laughing from above him, asshole kicked his feet out from under him. Glaring Logan takes his hand and gets helped up. “Jerk.”

“Hey! You can’t be mean to me or I’ll tell Finn.”

“He would be on my side!”

“He would laugh at you and give me a high five and you know it.” Logan thinks for a moment and then signs knowing Alex is right.

“Why do my boyfriend's siblings bully me?”

“Because we are family, shortstack.” Alex gets punched in the stomach for that nickname everytime. Yet he still calls Logan that any time he gets the chance. After a moment of catching his breath, Alex looks up to see Logan’s face buried into another man’s chest. He was tall and had a couple scrapes on his face but he looked young. Maybe in his early twenties. His hair was barely sticking out from under his.. Cowboy hat… he was wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt… with cowboy boots. Who was this guy!? Does Finn know about him and Logan?

“Leooooo, I got some people I want you to meeeet!” Finn walks into the kitchen with his mother and Father trailing behind and bumps into Alex who is just staring at Leo like he's a ghost. “I promise he doesn’t always dress like that.” Taking a few steps towards his boys he gives Adele a fist bump and then leans his head on Leo’s shoulder. “Mom, Dad, this is Leo. The cowboy I have been talking about for…. A good year now. He is Logan and I’s boyfriend.” He smiles.

Leo feels his heart pick up a bit as the nerves of meeting parents that have authority makes him feel like he shouldn’t be there. He shakes the fathers hand after Logan goes to help Adele take out more tiny foods. He goes to shake Finn’s mother’s hand but is pulled into an aggressively tight hug that reminds him of his Mama’s hugs. He smiles and hugs her back. Already starting to feel at ease.

“I’m Alex.” Alex pats Leo on the shoulder.

“Leo, Finn talks a lot about you. He has your pictures up all around the apartment. I was convinced you two were twins for a while.” Leo smiles and continues to relax as Alex bursts out laughing.

“I’m not surprised, when we were younger people swore we were twins, and I think Finn would let people believe it when he was in elementary.” Alex ruffles Finn’s hair.

“So, Finn tells us you’re a Professional Bullrider. Correct?” Finn's dad looks to have the exact same face as his boys, same eyes as well. But he is much more tan and doesn’t have a single freckle that Leo can see, his hair is dark brown and curly, his eyebrows were so thick that Eliose would have the time of her life shaping them, his nose is also quite large and protrudes from his face with a little crook in the bridge making him subtly look like a bird.

“Yes, I do ride professionally. I actually leave in a couple of months to go travel the country to do it all again. My best friend Clayton ropes calves as well and my Mother was crowned Miss Rodeo when she was younger. So, it’s interesting when Finn tries to talk about rodeo stuff with us and he just has no idea. He’s getting better though.”

“I always had a dream of riding bulls or just being a cowboy in general but I’m from upstate New York! Not many cowboys there.” He laughs in the loud way most older fathers do and pats him on the shoulder just like Alex did. His smile was large and inviting, it reminded him of Finn.

“Country is Country wide, Sir. I have rode with people from New Hampshire and Massechusets. If you want I could teach you some things! I do train children in the two weeks before I leave to compete.”

“Don’t give him any ideas, he may be young at heart but his body is becoming old and crepid.” Finn’s parents share a kiss and it gives Leo’s heart a small painful yank. He can’t help but wonder if his parents would look that happy if his dad was still alive. He takes a sip of the Jack and Coke that Finn made him and swallows it along with his own self pity.

Now is not the time to mope.

He chats with Finn’s family some more until the doorbell rings. That would be his mother.

“Hello, who are you?” Pascal is looking directly into the sharp blue eyes of a woman who is either the same height as him… or taller. SHe is holding two milk crates, both filled with jars full of clear liquid. Odd. She is dressed in a tight red long sleeve shirt with a pair of dark wash jeans that flare at the bottom with matching red boots poking out from the jeans. Something flashes light into his eye and he notices the giant buckle on her belt.

“Oh excuse my manners! I’m Eloise Knut! My son Leo should be behaving here. This is Pascal’s house, yes?” She smiles and her teeth are so blindingly bright that Pascal has to look away.

“Oh yes of course come in.” He opens the door all the way and she struts in. Clayton was the first person to run up to her, Marc is on his back laughing loudly as they were just pretending Clay was a horse.

“Ma! It’s about time you show up! I’ll take this.” Clay has Marc hop off his back and takes the crates from Eloise, walking away lifting them over all the peoples heads who are sitting down or children.

“Ma! I want you to meet my brother. Sirius, this is Eloise. Eloise, this is Sirius.” Reg is looking between them with this excited glint in his eye, his two favorite adult figures in his life are meeting.

“Ravi de vous rencontrer.” Sirius shakes her hand and kisses her hand. Eloise smiles and pats his cheek.

“Si gentil de ta part.” Sirius smiles, cheeks turning a bit pink as she pinches them a bit. “You are just adorable! You and your brother have the most beautiful hair. I would love to just sit down and play with it all day.”

“Mama, stop hitting on Reg’s brother. Hit on his boyfriend instead.” Remus laughs from his spot next to Leo as they walk up with plates piled high with food. Leo’s vegetarian, Remus’ not. “I mean look at him, he is exactly your type! Short brownish hair, giant brown eyes, probably a bottom- Hey!” Remus swats at his plate of food to try and knock it over, making Leo barely have time to balance it out again.

“Leo, you’re gay. I thought you would have been better at seeing who is top, bottom, or a switch in relationships. It’s pretty obvious if you ask me.” Eloise smiles at Remus. “Since you have your hands full I will just give you a wave, Deary.” She waves at him. “I’m Eloise, Leo’s mother. I hope you haven’t heard anything bad about me, Leo likes to tell stories of when I was younger.”

“I can’t help it Mama, you were just so interesting!” Leo speaks with his mouth full and Reg, Remus and Elosie all give him a look.

“Don’t speak with your mouth full!” They all manage to say at the same time, catching Leo off guard. He laughs and swallows the food in his mouth.

“There are so many mothers around me. I’m going to see who Clay has rounded up to try the shine.” He stands up and leaves his plate on the little table in the middle of them, Reg grabs a few pieces of his food and eats them as he listens to Sirius and Remus talk about how they will be celebrating the holidays.

“I’ll go with you, I should probably meet the rest of the boys.” Eloise follows him into the kitchen to find Clay behind the kitchen island with two jars of moonshine in front of him, explaining to the team what it is. Leo walks over beside him and takes the lid off one and smells it.

“I think this one is watermelon.”

“Thanks for interrupting me. Anyway, moonshine is technically illegal because… honestly I don’t remember but we have been drinking it since we were like 13 I think.” Eloise walks up behind the two, reaching over them to grab the other jar, Clay and Leo move out of the way to let her in the middle.

“You two make me look like a terrible person, you know that? Letting my child drink moonshine at 13. I could get arrested.” She is examining the jar as the boys back track their statements about drinking so young even when they are still under the drinking age. She has a little half smile on her face when she looks through the clear liquid straight into a set of eyes that are staring right back.

Dark hazel eyes surrounded by the longest eyelashes she has ever seen. Dark smooth skin wrinkling around the eyes as this person smiles. Her mouth was very dry all the sudden, her stomach had a pit in it as well.

“Leo why don’t you let me have that, Y’all can keep all the rest.” She puts the jar she is holding down and takes the open one from Leo who was about to take a sip. She leaves the kitchen without another word. Clay and Leo share a confused look as they watch her leave.

Timmy follows a few minutes later.

The music played in the house after all these kids left to go spend the night at other houses, leaving the Dumias house open for adult activities like swearing. Leo, Reg and Clay had all moved the furniture around, with permission from Dumo and Celeste. There was just enough room for people to dance.

No one was really drunk persay but a couple swings of moonshine definitely got people tipsy. Elosie was talking with Ollie, Andrew, and Timmy. Who leo was keeping an extra close eye on, because he just felt like he should. He knows a lot of people find his mother attractive, that's why Eloise always wore her ring, to get people to back off, but she was almost… flirting back with Timmy.

It made Leo feel weird. Clay too.

Leo was staring at Eloise and Timmy when Sold (Grundy County Auction) came on over the bluetooth. He hears a gasp from behind him and sees Remus trying to get Sirius to dance with him.

“Re, I don’t know the dance.”

“It’s easy I promise!” Sirius gives his boyfriend a look and Remus sighs, giving up on trying to yank Sirius up off his chair . Leo walks over because he would also like to dance but his mom is flirting, Reg gets dizzy, his boys don’t know the dance, and Clay is laying across Thomas and Noelle on the couch a bit too drunk to really do anything but smile at them and twist Noelles hair around his finger.

“I know it, and all my dance partners are busy if you’d like to dance.” He smiles and nods his head when Sirius mouths ‘thank you’ in his direction. Remus hesitates for a moment.

“I only know how to follow really.”

“And you wanted me to dance!” Sirius tsks sarcastically and shakes his head leaning back in his chair so the two front legs were off the ground. Making sure there was something soft behind him, Re puts his foot under one of the chair legs and lifts up so Sirius falls backwards onto the pile of blankets that were thrown off the couch. “Re!”

“Well, I only know how to lead so that works out perfectly.” Leo takes Remus’ hand and leads him towards the group of dancing people on the wood floor of the living room. “Think there is enough space?”

“I think so, here.” Remus grabs his hands and they swing in a circle so people give them room. Leo just about trips over his own feet. Remus catches him while laughing, putting a hand on Leo’s shoulder and holding his other while Leo rests his free hand on Remus’ waist.

Spinning each other they are lost in the dance, not noticing the two or three people filming them. Sirius is just watching Remus move so smoothly, without a care in the world. His hair was long enough it swished with him, his laugh was loud and sweet. He didn't know how he didn’t get dizzy from dancing.

Finn was also watching them dance, as well as Logan. Finn was just enjoying his friend and Boyfriend dancing, Logan was too but a bit more… possessive. They all trust one another but Logan can’t help the little voice in the back of his head telling him to make sure Re knows Leo is theirs.

They finish the dance and just straight up sit on the floor to catch their breath, laughing a bit as people return to the dance floor. Eloise walks over to them and holds out a hand to each to help them up.

“Last Song! I want to go to bed!” Dumo announces as he turns the music down for a moment, he turns it back up before people can complain. Celeste was starting to put food away in to go containers and in tupperware to go in the fridge. Dumo walks over to help her but gets distracted when he hears someone drop a glass. He sighs and goes to help them, James, clean up.

“I am going to stay and help Celeste tonight and tomorrow morning. I will see you at the apartment and then we can go out for lunch.” Eloise smiles as Leo nods and lets her kiss his cheek. Leo and Remus make their way back over to their lovers.

“You were amazing!” Sirius hugs Remus, lifting him off the ground and smooching all over his slightly red face. “Where did you learn to dance like that?”

“My dad and mom used to go to swing classes when I was younger and my dad would always secretly practice with me so he could wow my mom.” He smiles, pushing Sirius’ hair out of his face and sighing happily. “Let’s go home, I’m tired.” Sirius and Reg follow Re out of the house a few minutes later, waving goodbye to the team.

The drive home in the uber was interesting, Leo and Logan were both sliding their hands up Finn’s thighs making his tispy brain only think about one thing. He watched those two whisper to each other before they left the house, Finn didn’t pay much attention, busy watching for the uber to pull up.

Once they enter the house Finn finds himself pinned against the door as soon as it is closed, Leo is kissing and nipping at his neck while Logan is reaching his hands under Finn’s shirt as he kisses him with maybe too much tongue. Finn lets himself be dragged into the feeling of their hands and lips on him.

“Tonight is all about you, sweetheart.” Leo whispers in his ear, Logan pulls away and tugs on Finn’s shirt towards the bedroom. Leo pats his butt to get him moving and follows the other two, stripping off his many layers and stretching his jaw a bit from his fall earlier.

“Hi, how are you?” Finn is pulled on top of Logan who has lost his clothes sometime in between the door of the room and the bed. He was beautiful; basically glowing from the yellow light of the lamp near the bed. Shadows and light contrasting on his tan skin make him look like a work of art. He can’t help but run his fingertips lightly over Logan’s chest and stomach. Smiling as the muscles move under his fingers, he feels a hand on his hand and two hands cupping his face making him look back up at Logan.

“I love you.” Logan pulls him down for a kiss as Finn feels Leo’s rough hands slide his shirt up, he pulls away just long enough to take his shirt off and then dives right back in for more kisses. Logan is very addictive, he lets Finn take over the kiss when he wants and other times he will take over the kiss just to annoy Finn into fucking him. Logan is giggling slightly as they kiss just because all this happiness is bubbling in his chest.

“I love you too, Lo.” He mumbles on Logan’s lips, feeling the bed dip behind him, Finn pulls away from Logan. Only after he is pulled into one last heated kiss that he can barely pull away from. Sitting up on his knees he turns his head to the side and has his lips met with another set of lips he loves.

Leo is almost always soft, besides his calloused hands, his skin is just perfect and makes Finn want to touch him always. He lightly nips at Leo’s lips, drawing a smile from the younger man. They pull away after a moment and Leo wraps his arms fully around Finn’s bare waist, resting his chin on Finn’s shoulder, humming a bit.

“I want to eat you out, is that okay? I mean your ass is so pale it looks like two marshmallows.” Logan snorts at Leo’s comment and flexes his legs from where they are resting on either side of Finn’s thighs, squishing Finn between them. Finn thinks about it for a moment, running his hand up and down Logan’s calf while Leo's hands run all over his torso.

“I don't know. Are you sure you want to? I mean, I just don’t want to find out I’m dirty or something… I also like never shave so… I don’t know.” He absent mindedly twirls a couple of Logan’s leg hairs together between his forefinger and thumb. Trying to ignore the feeling of an embarrassed blush that is creeping from his ears to his chest.

“Finn, you have eaten both of us out. Did you ever care if we were perfectly smooth or whatever else you are worried about?” Logan sits up, Looking him in the eyes. “We want to make you feel good, but if you don’t want to, that's okay too.” After a couple minutes of the three of them just existing together on the bed Finn starts nodding his head.

“Yeah, I want to try it. I think maybe once I get past feeling all jittery I will like it.” He kisses Leo and smiles at Logan. “I want to feel good like how I make you two feel.” He pushes Logan back onto his back and leans over him.

Leo helps Finn out of his shorts and, “Are these… my boxers?” Laughing as Finn nods, Leo also helps him slide off his boxers with fish on them. “You know Fish is a good nickname for you.” Leo starts kissing down his back.

“You named a fish after us and now you are naming me after a fish?” Finn starts to snicker but is cut off by the feeling of Leo licking over his entrance. His brows pinches together, his eyes close and he feels himself turn bright red.

“Hey” Logan kisses his cheek and nudges his cheek a bit with his nose, “Kiss me.” Finn doesn’t waste a second moving to have one hand holding him up by Logan's head and the other is gripping the back of his head with his fingers threaded into the long hair on Logan's neck. “Leo, you’re making him so red.” Logan mumbles on Finn’s lips.

Finn is losing himself in the feeling of Leo slowly opening himself up with his tongue, he knew this made his boys feel good but he didn’t expect it to make his legs shake. He has lost the ability to kiss Logan back because he is breathing so hard, burying his face in the crook of his neck. Every once in a while Finn feels Logan twitch and move under him.

Leo starts using his fingers alongside his tongue, Finn can’t help but rotate his hips in circles as the pleasure keeps flowing through his body. He feels like a soda bottle that hasn’t been opened, but has been shook. Everything was bubbling up and he felt like he was about to explode.

Leo pulls away when he feels Finn is ready. Looking at his boys, they both look blissed out. Leo notices one of Logan’s hands isn’t in sight, Finn is a complete mess. His hair is wild, his face is red, he is panting and looking more out of it than Leo has ever seen him.

“What do you want next?” Leo kisses up his back, nuzzling into the back of his neck and breathing in the smell that is strictly Finn.

“Leo, fuck me.”

“Yeah?”

“Can I get fucked too?” Logan is staring into Leo’s eyes with his pupils basically taking over his green eyes. Leo nods and leans over Finn’s shoulder to give Logan a quick kiss. Sitting back up, Finn follows his lead and sits up a few moments later. He gets handed the lube from where it is sitting next to Logan and covers his fingers. Logan grabs his hand and shakes his head.

“I already did it.” He smiles shyly at Finn who just blinks a few times.

“Loooogannnn! You know that’s like my favorite part!” Finn is pouting as he uses the lube on his hand to cover his cock. He is still mumbling his complaints as he starts to press in. He is already feeling everything more than normal, so his jaw goes slack and he pauses halfway. “Fucking Christ.” He leans down and presses his forehead to Logan’s as he pushes the rest of the way in. Their heavy breathing syncs up until Finn starts to pull out and push back in, just barely moving.

Leo is watching the whole thing, giving himself a few strokes to ease some pressure. He whispers the question to Finn who slows his thrusts to a stop. Leo slowly starts to press in and feels Finn suddenly tense up, Leo pauses and Finn lets out a noise that he knows like the back of his hand.

Finn just came. Logan moans loudly at the feeling of Finn cuming in him.

“Fuck! Finn~” Leo sees Logans hands grip Finn’s bareback digging his nails in.

“Leo- Please keep going.” Leo takes a deep breath to calm himself from just going to town on Finn. He pulls out and groans as Finn clenches around him. He presses his forehead to Finn’s sweaty back and listens to his plea to go deeper.

“Leo!” Logan calls out to him as his eyes start to roll back and his back arches, following Finn’s example from earlier and cumming between the two of them. Leo continues to fuck them as they moan his name, each others names, and grip one another as if they would lose them if they didn’t.

After finding the perfect rhythm, they all fall into a void of pleasure. Their bodies moving on their own, their voices becoming hoarse from moaning, lips raw from stolen kisses. Everything was perfectly balanced.

Logan suddenly breaks the atmosphere by falling off the edge again. He jerks himself through his orgasm and loses his voice as his vocal cords become taunt. Once the fog in his head dissipates he looks up at his boys.

“Can I watch you two?” The raspiness of his own voice catches him off guard, he clears his throat before Leo pulls out of Finn and Finn pulls out of Logan. Leo is holding Finn up as he has slumped back into Leo’s chest. They rearrange, Logan is laying on his side next to Finn who is lying on his back. Leo is between Finn’s legs and moves them so one is wrapped around his hip and the other is out to the side. With Logan wanting to still do something, he holds the leg that is out to the side and sits up to watch as Leo pushes back into Finn. His eyes wanted to watch where they met and Finn’s face at the same time.

Logan knows that Leo’s eyes when he is fucking is one of the most intense things he has ever seen, Finn tries to look Leo in the eyes but ends up turning his head to meet Logan’s.

Logan's eyes are soft and blown out, beautiful green, calming yet wild. Logan is just a walking oxymoron. He was everything. Finn looks back at Leo who is watching them look at each other. He hits Finn’s prostate just right and Finn cums again as he cups Leo’s face and stares into his eyes.

Leo swallows as he starts to slow down. Finn is still looking into his eyes, Leo kisses him passionately. Teeth and tongue are the main part of the kiss. Finn wraps his arms around Leo’s neck and his legs around his waist, pulling Leo in deeper to him. Leo gets the hint and keeps fucking him.

Finn holds on for dear life as he is fucked into the mattress. He is sensitive from earlier so it doesn’t take long to get him over the edge again. Leo is just about to cum when he pulls out as Finn’s limbs flop to the sides of him, hitting Logan on accident, Leo pulls out. Remembering that Finn doesn’t like the feeling of cum in him. So he jerks himself a few times before he cums all over Finn’s chest and stomach. Mixing with his own mess.

Logan being the impatient boy he is… Fully shoves Leo out of the way, placing two hands on his chest and shoving Leo out of the way. Not meaning to fully knock him off the bed but he does. Logan is between Finn’s legs and licks up his stomach and chest, right through the mess. Taking Finn by surprise he shoves his tongue down his throat.

Leo stands up, watching them making out with the mess and feeling himself start to get turned on again. They pull away and look at him, the softest and sleepiest smiles on their faces.

He loves them.

[anika-ann]

Of Thieves and Queens of Hearts (B.B.)

Type: Reader-insert , SEQUEL TO Of Jewels and Gems               

Word count: 2860

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Medieval AU with thief!Bucky and princess!reader.

You and Bucky ‘meet’ again - is it fate or something more? And what should you do now, when you crossed paths again?

Warnings: mention of arranged marriage and blood, tears and stuff, angst and fluff

A/N: There were quite a few people who asked about a sequel and since the prompts was ‘I snuck in the castle to steal the royal crown but I’m stealing you instead au’, it only felt right to write this 😊

Of Jewels and Gems (previous part)

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Your mind was wandering, gone to a faraway land, far from the present moment for you were not particularly fond of the present.

The bumps on the road didn’t cease to shake the carriage for long moments now, gravel crunching under the wheels and hoofs, the cracking, occasional snorting of the horses, and your own breathing the only sounds keeping you company.

You had forgone interest in the landscape a long time ago, not bothering to revel at the scenery of the lands despite the curtains being open, and while no fabric was shielding the interior of the carriage from the outside light, with the sun slowly setting down, you were engulfed in a comforting gloom.

Too lost to your musings about the future, you missed the shadow lurking around your carriage – until a figure jumped right in through the modest window, causing a yelp gather in your throat in fright.

Before you could release a single sound to alert the coachman and the two guards riding in front of your vehicle, a warm calloused palm covered your mouth, muffling your scream.

All too familiar silver-blue irises twinkled even in the half-lit space, space that suddenly felt cramped.

Your sounds of protest died in your chest, where your heart had challenged your carriage to a duel in speed, beating faster than the hoofs of the horses carrying you towards your fate – whether the fright or the excitement was to blame, you weren’t able to tell.

You stared into the face of a cheeky man you hadn’t seen for almost six months and strangely a man whom you found yourself missing.

His palm reluctantly retreated, smug smile spreading the precious ruby lips as if wishing to irk you right from the beginning – as if the fact alone that he had assaulted you in your allegedly safe space wasn’t outrageous enough.

“Hi, Princess,” Winter said lowly, eyes roaming all over you face, observant and somewhat content.

Your fingers gripped at your skirts as his head appeared to be in scandalous proximity of yours – tempting proximity, but you couldn’t even dare to think that, let alone say it out loud. The interior suddenly felt too hot.

“What in Heavens are you doing here?” you demanded in hushed voice, torn between exasperated and… pleased. There was a strange warmth blooming in your chest and you couldn’t even begin to examine where it had come from.

“Told ya’ I’ll be back for the real jewel,” he smirked, the startlingly red lips peeking from under his beard.

‘Next time… I’m stealin’ the real crown jewel, Your Highness,’ echoed in your ears, an old promise he had given you right before… right before his lips had caressed your cheek.

Daring bastard!

And again, here he was, cheeky as ever, as if nothing could hurt him, free as a bird he could never be caged, only here to tempt you and mock you, no doubt about to tease you about your future.

“How—how dare you! Leave, now!”

His lips pursed, an adorable pout twisting it, eyes turning to ones of a child who just realized their parents didn’t bring any presents from their travels.

“Why?”

Why?

As if an explanation was needed! As if his mere presence in your carriage wasn’t a great offence! As if—as if he hadn’t played with your heart, made a promise and suddenly been in the wind!

“You- you’re a thief and a- a player and-and an outlaw-!” you hissed, managing to stutter marvellously in your indignation. “And I cannot be seen with another man in such close quarters to begin with for I am to be wed soon!”

The corner of Winter’s lips turned downward, his expression clouding further and all of sudden, you felt like the sunset truly had started, stealing all light from the world, and the warmth in your chest seemed to burn cold.

Why were you sad because of this man’s obvious sulking? What he was supposed to be to you, but a confusing memory? What was he even doing here with you?

“Yeah, I heard. I betcha’re all happy ‘bout it,” he noted with generous amount of sarcasm, causing your heart to skip a beat while his eyes never ceased to observe you, as if your face was an open book for him to read.

You attempted to fix your features to ones of a future queen and wife-to-be you were. A responsible crown princess, caring for the good of her people – for that was who you were and should you wed a man twice almost three times you age for it… so be it.

“What—eh- of course I am.”

A woman who was to become a queen one day was meant to be pampered, provided excellent education in both the world’s knowledge and manners and raised outside the filthiness of common people; however, there were always to be cracks in the foundation, little slips, little words you should not know but you did.

‘Bullshit’ was one of those words, as both as a noun and a verb.

The way Winter was watching you at the moment told you with startling obviousness that he thought you were bullshitting him.

So you stuck out your chin in defiance, hoping to sound convincing – to Winter, to yourself. Perhaps should you say it over and over, you shall believe it.

“I am happy to marry King Ronan should it bring together our kingdoms.”

“Mm,” the handsome thief hummed doubtfully, lightly shaking his head, causing the short loose ponytail he wore swing. “Don’t believe ya’. I think ‘dat if I told ya’ ya’ can run with me right now, you’d come.”

Heat rose to your cheeks in shame for he was horribly close to the truth. To cover your shame, you chuckled affectively as if he said the most ridiculous thing you had ever heard in your life. “Aren’t you a funny man!”

His eyebrows rose, losing themselves in his hairline for a moment. “I prefer handsome, but I guess ‘dat’ll do too. So… ya’ comin’?”

All you managed was to stutter an incomprehensible streak of words.

“’dat a yes?” he questioned with a smile, just a fraction shy and very much teasing.

You crossed your arms on your chest and looked away from the beautiful face that was somehow still mere inches from yours – unable to bear the gaze that seemed to burning through your very being and staring right into your soul and seeing the truth you were trying to hide.

You had to marry King Ronan. That was your duty as a crown princess, to bring peace and wealth to your kingdom, even if you should suffer in an unhappy marriage. People did not enter such holy union for love and attraction – no, marriage was a thought-through act of diplomacy.

Who should care for your well-being? Staying alive and serving your people was the truest and greatest reward you could earn.

Of course, you could not say that to Winter, who for whichever reasons refused to leave the topic alone and decided to create your personal hell by tempting you, attempting to lead you astray.

“Why should I, the princess, want to escape with you?” you scoffed defensively and he backed out, leaning to the opposite side of the carriage so swiftly as if he had been burned.

And then he pursed his lips again; but his gaze turned serious, no traces of the previous jests.

“’Cause I can keep ya’ safe and you’ll escape the possibility of dying at your future husband’s hand. Word’s goin’ ‘round… ‘dat he beat his first wife to death. Cheats and kills. Scumbag of a man, really-“

You chuckled bitterly, eyeing him from head to toe sceptically to put out the fire of fear lit inside your belly. He spoke the truth – these were the tales spread about the King all over the Seven Kingdoms and try as you might, you could not pretend to be that brave. Yet, you could not allow yourself a moment of weakness and display such – you were a future queen.

“And I should believe that you are any better? You’re a thi-“

“-thief, yeah, yeah, I didn’t forget ‘bout ‘dat, doll,” he interrupted rudely; nonetheless, a true concern casted shadows over his eyes, forming a worried crease between his brows. “But when I heard ‘bout the marriage… with him, I had to come runnin’ for ya’. I can’t stand the thought of ya’ getting’ hurt or worse.”

A sudden lump grew in your throat as you found yourself taken aback by his care – and moved. He was no one but a stranger and yet, not even your father had expressed such concern for your well-being when you had been leaving the castle with an enormous chest in the back of the carriage, hiding your multiple possessions.

Tears burned in your eyes and you fought to keep them at bay and find your voice, charming a gentle smile for the handsome thief who seemed to steal another piece of your heart by the minute.

“A sweet sentiment that might be, however unacceptable.”

He leaned forward again, gently taking a hold of your hands, engulfing them in his calloused and yet soft ones entirely. A unvoluntary pleasant shiver ran up your spine at the intimate gesture.

“Why?” he questioned quietly, gaze hopeful and shining with honesty, perhaps with a drop of mischief. “Ya’ like me too, I can tell.”

Laughter erupted from your throat and you had to quickly slip one hand from his to muffle the unexpected sound. Tears sprung from your eyes at last, a blend of humour and grief.

“You must be the cheekiest man I have ever met!” you whispered, shaking your head.

He truly was. He was also one of the kindest and most handsome ones – and the only one your heart ever beat for.

“Thanks, doll. But really… come with me,” he pleaded with urgency you would not have expected, let alone from a man you had barely spent few moments with. “Should I get on my knees and beg? I’ll beg-“

He released your hand and went to fall on his knees indeed, not wary at all of the limited space of the carriage.

On instinct, you swiftly grabbed his arm in hopes to keep him in place with a panicked ‘no!’ on your lips.

You shook your head again, this time soberly, when he tenderly manipulated your hand on him to bring it to his lips, gracing the back of it with a brief kiss.

It was an difficult task to attempt to resist his charm, one worth of a future queen, nearly impossible – you could have swoon right at the moment, no doubt ending up in his protective arms should you lose your balance.

Nevertheless, you must have remained rational about this.

“I cannot escape. Even if we could manage such daring thing, we would never be safe. We would have only prolonged the inevitable and the punishment-” your breath hitched as you were staring into the gentle orbits of his, still watching you intently, ”-punishment for you and for my insolence would be great.”

The corners of his lips raised in a minute smile as if you weren’t talking about the inevitable deaths that awaited you both should you take him upon his suggestion.  

“Ya’ worried ‘bout me, doll?”

You supposed he took notice of your exasperated look, however he chose to ignore it and smiled wider, causing you to chuckle through your tears.

He surely was insane— and yet, here you were, nodding minutely, confirming your concern for him for you wished that his smile lightened the carriage further… and that it did.

“Don’t. I have a safe place to come back to, always.”

You felt your eyebrow jump in surprise, genuinely taken a back. Was he pulling your leg now?

“Oh, do you, Winter?”

He frowned and nuzzled the back of your hand.

“It’s Bucky,” he mumbled.

For all your astonishment on learning his true name, you still couldn’t resist caressing his face; his whiskers felt softer than you had expected and you hadn’t anticipated his eyes to flutter shut, a sound resembling a purr vibrating in his chest.

“Suits you better,” you smiled sadly, still in battle which you were slowly losing as Bucky seemed to be prepared to convince you no matter the cost. His kindness and faith had your heart swell in your chest, however—you couldn’t. Could you? No. No the risks were too high and you had a duty to fulfil. “I wish you a long good life, Bucky.”

“Ya’ could live it with me. Please? I promise, I- uhm, King Steven of Brooklin owes me a favour.”

“King Steven of Brooklin?” you repeated, turning entirely sceptical. Now he truly was only spinning a tale. “You certainly are funny.”

“Mock me all ya’ want, Jewel mine,” he shrugged and kissed your palm for a good measure, as if he hadn’t had your heart stuttering constantly already. “But he does. I was able to help his beloved escape from the clutches of HYDRA.”

“Wh-is-- is that so?”

You had heard rumours – of a mysterious man aiding the future queen of Brooklin, of a spy within the HYDRA castle’s wall perhaps – nonetheless, not even in your wildest dreams you would dare to imagine Bucky was the fabled one.  

“Yeah. I saw a miserable to-be queen Margaret and helped her run,” Winter—Bucky shrugged nonchalantly again, dismissing the heroic act. “We met the king in the near woods, he was gettin’ all ‘let’s cut off some heads’ to free her. It was kinda funny actually, when he found out who I was.”

It sounded like he spoke the true… however, you couldn’t seem to shush the suspicious voice in your head, challenging you to ask further questions.

“…what could have you been doing at such place to begin with?”

Cocky. His smile and the raise to his brows only could be described as cocky.

“Ya’ keep sayin’ ‘dat I’m a thief, so…. Ya’ tell me.”

Of course. Of course, naturally. He had snuck in to steal.

Your lips pressed into a thin line upon that realization – nevertheless, you couldn’t force yourself to be mad at him for his nature. After all, it appeared that there was much more to learn about him and it couldn’t all be bad if what he had revealed so far was anything to go by. And who were you to judge, yourself born into privilege?

If anything, he clearly could have been responsible for a woman being alive – and you had never heard about a heist that would end with a single man dead whenever the gossipers whispered about Winter and his visits to the royal treasuries.

And yet, doubts were still playing with your head, rightfully so.

“And I should simply trust you that King Steven, a man famed for his good heart and ultimate belief in justice, approves of your choice of livelihood?” you couldn’t but ask.

“He tolerates it. He knows I steal from the richest and some of it goes to the poorest.”

…oh.

“It… it does?” you stuttered, almost embarrassed at your loss of composure.

Bucky, the infamous thief was doing an excellent work again, claiming your heart altogether. You had simply believed that he was an outlaw, a thug, a thief, a molester maybe—but how could you hope to resist his charms upon learning this?

He had been helping the poor? Such action surely was more than you had ever done… perhaps he was a better person that you could ever-

“Yeah,” he confirmed with a grin, cocking his head to side, visibly content that he impressed you. For once, you couldn’t argue with him for you truly were enamoured with his kindness. “But from now on, I can only take for you. For us. To give ya’ all stuff ya’ deserve, Jewel. Just say the word. Come with me.”

The silence sounded deafening to your ears and Bucky appeared to feel the need to fill it with grasping your hands gently, once again gracing them with reverential kisses. The affection chased more tears into your eyes as you tried to breathe through them and not let them escape anymore… failing.

Yes, the silence was deafening, felt suffocating and heavy on your chest, but you could feel like you were able to breathe again when a calloused fingertip wiped at your tears with tenderness.

You wondered… could he hear the last of your resolve not to be selfish crumble to the ground?

“Do you…” you whispered, voice unladylike hoarse due to the lump in your throat, “…do you truly believe that we would find refuge in Brooklin?”

The proclaimed topazes of his eyes glimmered with their silver lining, ruby lips you had fallen in love with spreading in a genuine wide smile as he nodded, delighted.

“Yeah. I do. Do ya’ trust me?”

“Gods help me, I do…” you sighed, giddiness battling with nerves as you smiled back at him. “Very well, Bucky, Winter the thief. Let’s run away to Brooklin.”

And for all you had thought his face was precious as all the jewels and gemstones of your kingdom, it was the smile he graced you with upon your yes, shining with the power of a thousand suns, that you found worth the world’s greatest fortune.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

B.B. masterlist (…yes, it’s that short)

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Ugh. Not as cheeky as the previous one, but hopefully the sweetness made up for it :-* 

Thank you for reading and special thanks to you, who encouraged me to write this sequel ♥ I’m glad I did ;)

[hellomynameisbisexual]

“Faggot.” “Cocksucker.” “Femboy.” “Abomination.” Gay. The list of names I’ve been called since coming out as bisexual in June 2020 doesn’t stop there — nor did it stop when I went public with my sexual identity either.

From a young age, I knew I was different from my peers.

Maybe it was the way I walked. Or the way I talked. Or the way I dressed. I just knew I stood out to them like a sore thumb — or perhaps a rainbow of color in a sea of dull gray.

My differences became evident to me when other children at the preschool I attended in suburban San Diego, California, would forsake my company in favor of each other, already forming cliques and inciting drama at such an innocent age.

When my family and I moved to dreary Erie, Pennsylvania, I knew my struggles would only get worse.

Many of the children in my kindergarten class had already known each other for several years before I entered the picture.

They quickly noticed differences in my mannerisms, speech patterns, thoughts and ideas. I wasn’t like the other boys, but I wasn’t like the girls either. I was an outlier, a foreigner and a stranger considered dangerous and unwelcome.

Though I made friends the following few years — including some who would become lifelong companions — most of those primary friendships mirrored the kernels of a neglected ear of corn: delicious when ripe but quick to harden, rot and flake off.

By my fourth grade year, I was teased and bullied nearly daily for being too feminine, too weird, too annoying to fit into my school’s social circles.

When I told my teachers about my struggles, their solution was to attempt to masculinize me by placing me in groups of athletic boys in my class, boys I had nothing in common with and who certainly had nothing in common with me.

Even my grandparents — then and now my caretakers — noticed my un-boyish behavior and enrolled me in the local little league baseball team — whether to also attempt to instill in me a sense of masculinity and male toughness or to help me make new friends I knew not.

I would grudgingly participate in the sport for six, nigh on seven grueling years, never making a single lasting friend and crying almost weekly from the torment it caused me.

Needless to say, I felt like a floundering fish without fins in a sea of angry, hungry sharks during those years.

It wasn’t until the final year of my elementary education that I was introduced to the concepts of puberty, adolescence and sex.

I was told that very soon, I would start noticing the girls in my class and would begin to want to form meaningful relationships with them. Eventually, I would become sexually attracted to them and want to have children with them.

But in those coming years, though many girls would pique my interest, it wasn’t them who ignited the fire in my soul and made me feel the burning passion of desire — it was men.

I quickly realized it was this that set me apart from my male peers and resulted in me being shunned by the girls. I was a boy — soon to be a man — in every physical way, but I wasn’t attracted to or passionate about girls like the other boys in my class were. I was obsessed with men.

But I couldn’t possibly be gay, could I?

Growing up in a household of religious relatives, I was always taught that sex before marriage was a wicked abomination and that being anything but straight was a sin comparable to none.

I distinctly remember watching a news broadcast with my family around the time I was transitioning to my middle school years. The ABC World News clip showcased LGBT marriages being performed out west and contained affirming remarks from then-President Barack Obama on the matter.

“The Bible says marriage is between a man and a woman,” I remember my aunt saying in utter disgust at the television, murmurs of agreement echoing her around the room.

I resolved then to hide my feelings and my pubescent curiosity from my family at all costs, lest I be scolded, shunned or worse: abandoned.

During middle school, I relentlessly dug deep within myself and attempted to alter what I thought was but a simple mental barrier to social normality. All thoughts of being with men were forcibly suppressed in my mind before they could even become tangible, and each of my increasingly urgent bodily needs went ignored and unsatiated.

I even resorted to religion, the only weapon I thought strong enough to aid me in the war raging inside myself.

Day and night, I attempted to “pray the gay away,” but to little avail. Much to my chagrin, I realized that even divine intervention could not “help” me: My homosexuality seemed to be an immortal, malignant tumor infecting each and every one of my thoughts.

Thus, the preliminary years of my second decade of life became miserable and unfulfilling — I was engaged in a fierce battle with an integral aspect of my identity and was inadvertently shattering the chains that bound a beast capable of obliterating every fiber of my cognitive being — anxiety.

By my high school years, men — mean, nasty and indifferent but awe-inspiring, mystifying and oh-so-gorgeous men — had begun to control my deepest, darkest desires and fantasies. My lust had grown large enough to thwart even my most furious attempts at diminishing it.

As I slowly came to terms with the realization that nothing in the universe could “fix” me, my mental situation severely worsened. I fell into a dangerous downward spiral of self-doubt and woefulness.

My relationship with my grandparents quickly began to deteriorate, as did my relationships with my friends. Every day brought with it a new reason to hate my existence — the constant verbal altercations, the continued teasing and even bullying at school, the countless lonely nights spent sobbing quietly into my pillow.

And, to make matters worse, the true nature of my sexuality seemed to express itself in each of my social mannerisms. It wasn’t long before despicable rumors about me spread through the student body of my high school like wildfire.

My teachers noticed my strife, and some took the time to speak with me about a few of the different mental illnesses they suspected I had. But not even they could halt the hordes of horrifying thoughts racing through my head or the string of ruthless comments that would assault me in the hallways.

Soon, however, the light at the end of the long, grueling tunnel that was public education began to shine: I was graduating from high school and about to start fresh. Nothing could have contained my excitement at the prospect of escaping the largest source of my daily torment.

As I digested the freedom going to college offered, idealistic daydreams began to flood my mind — I could live how I wanted with whomever I wanted, and no one could judge me or tell me differently.

How wrong I was.

My first year as an undergraduate student at Penn State Behrend was a living hell.

Though the petty and immature teasing of high school was no longer an issue, standing up for my newfound political identity was, as well as dealing with my growing anxiety.

I was constantly engaged in polite yet heated political debates with those in my dorm. I felt like they were blatantly attempting to oppress me with their own beliefs and had grown to hate me for mine.

The same situation occurred with my grandparents, and we grew increasingly distant over the course of that year.

It didn’t help that I was still “in the closet,” so to speak, and contemplating methods of publicly revealing my true sexual identity. I hadn’t yet officially told anyone I was bisexual, and it remained my most closely guarded secret.

Needless to say, my social circumstances and the added stress of my adjustment to college academics and lifestyle allowed my mental state to reach an unprecedented low. I needed help.

That same year, I saw my family physician and then a psychiatrist, who prescribed me antidepressants in an attempt to lessen my now untameable anxiety. I took them with gusto and also began attending therapy sessions to teach me how to manage my thoughts and emotions.

For a small while, I felt better — I was actually happy in my skin and even happy with my bisexuality.

But then, even my long-awaited mental comfort abandoned me, and I slipped into the deepest, darkest pit of my life.

I became suicidal but never acted on that petrifying potentiality.

I didn’t trust myself to be alone, so I constantly sought the company of others, which only made me feel like a nuisance and waste of time, energy and space.

About a month later — in October 2018 — I got into an accident.

I was barrelling down the highway, escaping a particularly heated verbal altercation with my grandfather. It was raining that day, and the roads were slippery.

Going around a curve, I lost control of my vehicle and flew into a small ravine, flipping not once, not twice but three times in midair before landing upright — dazed, but alive.

Escaping relatively physically unscathed from the incident, with only a broken right clavicle, I was not mentally the same for weeks afterward.

I decided at that time I would come out and reveal my true sexuality at the soonest possible opportunity — I blamed my silence on every terrible situation that had occurred in my life up to that point. If I didn’t come out, I quite literally thought I would die.

Telling even my closest friends was difficult, but I managed, and the relief I felt was paramount to that of the titan Atlas in Greek mythology: I felt like the weight of the entire world — sky and all — had been lifted from my shoulders.

Fast forward to the present: I’m alive, well, out and proud. I’m no longer ashamed of my innate traits or of my thoughts.

Being a bisexual man has taught me many lessons, but foremost among them is that the people who can’t accept me for who and what I am don’t deserve to be in my life.

My anxiety made it difficult to let go of toxic relationships over the years — I learned that the primary source of my mental strife is a fear of abandonment by those I care about — but doing so opened the door to newer, healthier relationships that build me up and boost my confidence instead of chipping away at it.

I’ve since improved tremendously, and not even the onset of the coronavirus pandemic was able to pause my progress. Every day is a learning experience, and I’ve grown so much from the helpless boy I was mere months ago that if you showed me a map of my mentality from 2018, 2019 or even 2020, I wouldn’t recognize myself at all.

Revealing my bisexuality to the world didn’t solve all my issues — there were and still are other factors that contribute to my anxiety and mental health — but coming out was perhaps the most profound, life-altering moment in my 21 years. Nothing compares to the freedom I now enjoy, nor will any other experience compare to the relief I felt following my announcement.

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 14: No Call No Show

Characters: Shane Benton (OFC), various other original supporting/secondary characters

Summary: We find out where Shane went Monday after work and exactly why she hasn’t been responding to any attempts at communication…and unfortunately, she’s not just taking some “me time.”

Want to reminisce about when this was just a happy little fluffy romance? Return to chapters past, or look at my other smutty drabbles here!

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings:  SHANE FIGHTS BACK, BUT DEFINITELY GETS HER ASS KICKED, SO FAIR WARNING, IT’S VIOLENT. Language, mature themes, emotional abuse, mention of narcotics (morphine), vomiting, foreshadowing and mention of potential future violent/non-con/dub-con activities, but if those acts occur, they will not be portrayed on the page, but rather between chapter or section breaks, so don’t worry. Also, I use the “R” word, but not to discuss non-con, but rather to add an educational note about why one should yell “fire” when one is being assaulted. Basically no Sy material whatsoever, but he’s mentioned, so I’m tagging it as such! Shane being somewhat blasé about her mortality. I really don’t want to trigger anyone, so please read with caution or wait until you emotionally are ready to deal with our girl going through the shit.

Author’s Note: Really REALLY nervous about this one. This is not the resolution you are looking for, my friends. In fact, it’s not a resolution, at all. Lol. I foresee many people disliking this chapter for some reason or another. That’s actually okay. It’s not a chapter you’re meant to “like” per se. I don’t “like” it. I’m prepared for it to get very few notes, and I’m positioning it anyway. I think it’s some of my better writing, but I hated putting Shane through the ringer like this. It’s just one of those chapters you “get through.” And honestly, if you truly didn’t like it please give me feedback so I can improve and tweak. {For reasons other than “My beebeeeeee!” or “never mention anything less than consensual ever again kthxbye” because a) of all, MY beebee too, and b) of all, that’s what warnings are for and why they should be read.} That being said, I hope it at least tides you over until the next chapter. At least you know where she is…not that THAT’S a big relief under the circumstances! Lol!

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

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@misslaland (apparently deactivated, idk what’s up with that)

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Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

Previously, in Virginia…

"Shane left work Monday and hasn't been back since. No one has seen her. Apart from you, I presume. "

"I haven't seen her in about a week and a half. I'm training out of state for a job. I've been away from my phone since Monday, and I just got back to it now."

"She isn't…with you? I assumed…"

"Well, you know what they say, Susan. I'm coming back early if I can manage it. See if I can do something to help find her."

Three days earlier, in Missouri…

Shane blinked her eyes open to little avail. She couldn't tell where she was, other than what seemed to be the back seat of a fairly new-model large vehicle, like a Suburban or a Tahoe. She thought it was new because the new car smell was still overpowering the nicotine and tobacco odor of at least one of its occupants. She could also smell the sickly sweet stench of artificial cherry permeating the cabin. The source must be very close to her nose as she lay there helplessly restrained while the vehicle jostled down the road. The smell reminded her of the horrible liquid pain reliever her mother would give her as a child when she had a fever or leg pains. She had taken enough of it then to make her averse to most cherry flavorings as an adult. She wanted to retch.

She could also make out the faint glow of a dashboard lit with LED lights, brighter and softer than those of older models. But she soon had to shut her eyes again. Her head was throbbing and her memories were fuzzy. She remembered very little of Monday…was it still Monday? But she was trying to think, despite the pounding of many drums in her cranium where a brain should be.

She remembered staying at work late to finish notes. She remembered heading home…and she remembered forgetting her phone at her desk and deciding to turn around to get it…when suddenly she was surrounded by vehicles and unable to move without having an accident. Had she known the circumstances then, she would have tried to muscle through. The horrific events came flooding back in traumatic flashes like lightning, or the pulse of passing streetlights in an unfamiliar city.

She remembered…

The glass by her left ear shattered. A hooded, hulking figure reached in through the new opening, fumbling for the handle to open the door. She'd had the presence of mind to fight back there. To punch at the probing extremity. But the extremity hit back, landing a solid smack against her left cheek, stunning her for long enough that the cruel apparition found the unlock button, pressed it, and opened the door. She didn't go quietly. She fought like the hellcat her mother always told her to be. Her foot found the odd solar plexus and groin before enough dark nemeses arrived to overpower her. They dragged her away from her car and out onto the pavement of the church parking lot she'd used to turn around. She did not make it easy for them. She kicked and punched and tried to twist out of their grips like vices. She yelled "fire" as she was taught as a young woman, not knowing the men's intentions, but certain they weren't kind, and knowing that yelling "rape" was not always effective at summoning help. Either way, it didn't matter. She could have shouted anything. No one was near enough, or cared enough, to come to her aid. As soon as her soft hands hit the gritty pavement, though, the violence intensified. She lost count of how many times she got kicked in the back, stomach, ribs. One asshole even kicked her in the tit. She'd find out who that was and he'd find himself in a special brand of pain…if she ever got out of this alive. She heard them calling her awful names that she was sure she hadn't earned, and especially not from these guys. About six of them, she thought. She hardly knew six guys. She certainly didn't know six guys that would want her roughed up like this. She heard one of the men start to say "Come on, guys, we better save some for--" and with that, she blacked out to the tune of the distinct "thunk" of a wooden baseball bat making contact with the back of her head.

She wanted to forget…for it to be a terrible nightmare…to wake up.

But she was awake. This was a waking nightmare. The cold leather on her cheek was made colder by the harsh air conditioning blowing toward her from above and below. She shivered from the chill and from the terror she was trying to suppress. Where were they taking her? For what purpose? And for whom were they leaving parts un-bruised…though it didn't feel like it.

She finally felt them slowing, heard a turn signal clicking, the courtesy of which she applauded despite her position in the active abduction taking place, and felt the gentle displacement of her body toward the driver side, knocking her head into the door. A right turn. Not that it would matter too much, but at least when she escaped, and she made herself think "when" and not "if," she would know which direction to turn to get back to town.

The blow to the head had left her sensitive to light and sound. As she was yanked from the back seat, all she could see was the glow of a dusk to dawn light above them. Normally a soft, guiding light, this one just as well have been the sun itself the way it stung her tender eyes. She squinted against it, thankful as she never would have thought to be, when a shroud was placed over her throbbing head. She could still hear the power coursing through the bulb and fixture, though. Normally a dull hum, in the state she was in, it was as loud as accidentally switching your TV to the snow channel at full volume.

"Bring 'er inside." She heard an unfamiliar male voice say.

Two strong, ruthless hands grabbed her by the armpits, causing her to cry out in pain. Such a tender place to bear weight, and why even big strong Sy hated crutches…Sy. Would she ever see him again?

"Shut up, bitch, or we'll knock you out again." She believed them, and being fairly certain she had at least a mild  concussion, she wasn't sure what a second blow of an indeterminate velocity might do to her brain. She dealt with the stabbing pain as the men dragged her across what sounded like gravel, then grass, then something hard and smooth, maybe the slabs of an old, sunken, and somewhat uneven footpath. Soon, she felt the pain of her knees hitting what she assumed were porch steps. One, two, three of them. She was trying to concentrate through the fog now setting in, and maintain consciousness. Paying attention to the sensations, she told herself, was not only helpful for that task, it might help her escape. Remember the scents, too, she reminded herself. She tried to shake off the nauseating cherry and cigarette stench from her olfactory glands and take note of the bouquet around her.

Burnt leaves…gasoline…engine grease…the tang of sappy, just cut firewood…straw…manure…this seemed to be a farm. With a barn nearby…perhaps with horses. She loved horses. If she could find a gentle horse in the night…escape might be easier than she'd anticipated.

Entering the house was a noisy affair. There was a metallic keening from the spring of an aluminum screen door. She imagined it had one of those big swirly cross beams like her grandma's used to have that she always though was supposed to resemble a butterfly. A heavier, wooden door creaked open as the three figures muddled their way in, and the floorboards protested, as well, at the weight of her captors. So, she thought, not only a farm house, but an old farm house.

"Where do you want her?" the man on her left asked into what she only knew as the void, so far.

"Take her to the cellar. I've got things set up down there." a familiar voice chuckled and growled. How did she know the voice? Was he a patient? She couldn't think of anyone she'd treated that would want her abducted and brutalized.

"You got it, E." Ugh, for some reason it bothered her when guys referred to each other by their first initials. Girls, no big deal. But bros…there was something so thoroughly douchey and…familiar about it all…

"Hold on." the man called "E" said, and she heard footfalls approaching her. As he got closer, she smelled…patchouli and incense…and the sea…and it brought back a rush of pain from past trauma followed by literal pain from his punch to her gut. She hadn't been expecting it. Obviously. The wind had been taken out of her. Literally and figuratively. She did know this man…all too well.

"We've got some catching up to do, sweetheart." the pet name dripped like venomous honey from the tongue of the snake before her.

"Elliot." it wasn't a question. She coughed the name out like a pill that had gone down sideways.

Her escorts continued their transportation of her prone body to its destination…she didn't want to think FINAL destination, but the more she learned about her situation, the more she worried that she wouldn't make it out alive.

They had to get creative in carrying her down the narrow staircase to the cellar. They argued for a moment about who would take the top half and who would go backwards.

"How about the one who takes my top half goes forward and the bottom half goes backward?" These idiots. Where did Elliott find clowns like this who needed to be told by their prisoner the best way to sort out their domestic dispute.

She thought she felt them shrug, and silently take her advice as she felt herself being lowered down the stairs, feet first, panic threatening to overtake her restrained limbs.

When they got to the bottom of the stairs, they stood her up to remove her shroud, and cut the zip ties from around her ankles and wrists. She then noticed a small cell that reminded her of the ones in the sheriff's offices in some westerns she'd seen. She started to freak out, anticipating her future in that horrid place.

"Guys, please. No. Please don't do this. I don't know what Elliott's told you about me, but I'm a good person. I don't deserve this. I have a job and friends and a family who will worry sick about me. I am begging you to let me go. Please!"

"You're wasting your breath, lady." one of the men said, gruffly.

"PLEASE!" she appealed, desperate to get through. "Don't you guys have wives or girlfriends? Mothers, sisters, aunts, or female cousins? What if a woman you cared about was in this situ---" and before she could finish the question, one of the men punched her for what felt like the thousandth time tonight. She fell to her knees, vomiting. And the world went black again.

~~~~~~~

There were no windows. There was no clock. There was just a small twin mattress in one corner of the cell, and a bedside commode in the other. As accommodations went, it was hardly a Hilton, but it could have been worse. It was all lit by a 60-watt bulb in one of those hanging fixtures her dad had always called a trouble light situated on a hook on the side of one of the exposed joists outside the cell. He'd had a similar one for the longest time. He and mom will be worried sick before long, if they aren't already, she thought. The light was aptly named for these circumstances she was in. Trouble. A heap of it. And no idea of how to get out of it.

And honestly, no idea why Elliott would want her here. How he could do such a monstrous thing as having her kidnapped. How he came to live in this place when he never worked a day in his life. She was so confused. She hoped at the very least, he'd give her answers before he murdered her, if that was his plan.

She had woken up on her side, almost her stomach, with her right cheek on the scratchy surface of the bare mattress. Whoever put her to bed had been wise to position her like this given the likelihood that she might puke again. She noticed a small bucket, presumably for that purpose, next to the mattress. There was a caseless pillow next to her head, but she hadn't found that comfort during her nap of…she couldn't tell how long. Not that it mattered. The more she slept, the less time she'd have to process this horror movie she was currently living out.

She heard the door open at the top of the stairs and Elliott shout at one of his flunkies, "What do you MEAN you didn't get her phone?" a pause while indistinct words came from said flunky across the room, or maybe the house. "Well, find it. Tear that piece of shit Explorer apart if you have to. I want that phone." She took exception to her sweet little Norah getting called a piece of shit. That was her Millennium Falcon. And yes, she'd gotten flack for naming her Norah the Explorer, but she didn't care.

Elliott stomped down the stairs, grinning the most infuriatingly happy grin she'd ever seen on him. She wanted to maul him. To tear those stupid eyes out of their sockets with her own fingernails. But she controlled her anger and resisted even acknowledging his greeting of "Hey, sweetheart."

She ignored him.

"It's good to see you."

Silence.

"I missed you."

She stared right through him.

"I heard you and that meat head soldier broke up."

She scowled at him.

"There she is. There's my girl."

"I'm not your girl, Elliott, and I haven't been in years. Why am I here?" She broke. She couldn't take it.

"We'll get to that why soon enough. First, let's talk about why you and Cap'n Crunch are no longer breakfasting together? Soggy cereal? Limp toast? Was he letting you leave the table unsatisfied?"

"As if you ever satisfied me when we were together." She spat back, calling Elliott out on his notorious selfishness in all aspects of life and relationships.

"I've changed."

"Bullshit." she rolled her eyes.

"It's true!" he insisted. "I can give you references."

"I honestly don't give a shit. We're not together. Sy and I are. Happily. And you better let me go soon. He was expecting me at his place after work. He's probably out looking for me right now." she lied. It was worth a shot.

"Now it's my turn to call bullshit, because I know that isn't true." He looked at her with that patronizing stare he had.

"You don't know shit, Elliott."

"I know that your boy took off over a week ago for Virginia and hasn't come back, at least not the way he left. I believe he's supposed to be gone at least a few weeks. Maybe a couple of months. He wasn't sure at last report."

She was literally willing him to burst into flames before her. Her gaze revealed her hand.

"Told ya. You think you're the only one with connections at the fort? I've got me a sweet little sergeant who works in ATC over there. She can out-squat anyone else on base…and let me tell you, it shows." he lifted his eyebrow, lasciviously.

"You disgust me."

"Why? You never seemed to mind my…sexy imagination." he winked at her.

"No, I'm happy that you're getting it good on the regular from an ass that won't quit. But come on. You clearly only got with this girl because you thought it would give you the upper hand against me."

"Well, that's very self-absorbed thinking."

"Really, Elliott? Do you see where we are right now?" they looked around at the dank cellar and he shrugged, unable to deny or rebut. "And this woman. Does she know about this little scheme?"

He gave her one of his more evil grins. "Who do you think kicked you in the tit?" Okay…she was new levels of pissed off now.

"Why…the actual FUCK am I here, Elliott!?"

"Well, Shane, you embarrassed me with that little stunt at the bar a few weeks ago. You thought you were hot shit, parading your sasquatch of a boyfriend around in front of me, in my town, humiliating me as all of my friends watched. And then that dickhead sucker punched me in the parking lot. I shoulda pressed charges. But him being a veteran, I knew how that woulda gone in this town. I didn't have a snowball's chance. So I waited. And I planned. And I was patient. And I watched for my moment. And it finally came. I've been watching you leave work every night for the past week, and you're always with someone, or headed somewhere else, or going straight home. Last night…last night I knew was the night when you didn't leave until after 7. You were the last one out, and I knew that it had to be then. The plan, not that you need to know, is to plaster your social media with humiliating photos, piss off everyone that you love, including your precious Sy, and alienate everyone you've ever cared about until you're miserable and alone."

Shane was crying now. She thought she might be sick again. She reached for the bucket. The delusion of this man thinking that anyone in that bar besides maybe the ones that were there with him that night gave a shit about him. Thinking that the town was his. He was a nobody there. He hadn't grown up there, he didn't work there, he didn't participate in community events. He was kidding himself if he thought anyone cared enough about him that he should feel shame over her relationship with Sy, especially five years after their relationship with each other had ended.

"How's that for a 'why,' sweetheart?" he boasted.

"It's making my ask myself a lot of questions. Like why I ever agreed to go out with you all those years ago. Why I didn't see the signs that you were a psychopath sooner. And why I put up with your terrorism for so long thinking you'd ever really change. I can't believe I ever slept with you, you absolute barbarian." and she heaved into the bucket, non-productively. She hadn't eaten since lunch, and that had to be well over twelve hours ago.

"Well, ya did. And ya can't change the past. But I'm about to take your future into my hands. As soon as we find your phone, we're gonna have us a ball, little girl."

"You honestly think I'll cooperate with any of that?"

"You won't have a choice." he held up a little glass vial. "Morphine. A tiny dose of this stuff, and you'll do anything I tell ya."

"Please. Just let me go now, and I won't press charges. I won't go to the cops, at all. I'll call in to work with a headache, or something and you can live your life with Sergeant Squats and we can leave each other alone."

"A good offer, but I need to get something out of this. I need my pride back."

"And you're gonna get that by dragging me through the mud online from my own Facebook account? Is that really the way you wanna do this? When you could just show me what a great life you've built for yourself. This is a great place here, it seems, I mean, I only smelled it, and felt how big it was while I was getting dragged around the place. But, Elliott, if you had just told me about all this, I would have been happy for you!"

"This place is Sasha's."

"Oh." she grasped for something, anything to make him see how insane he was being without saying the words. "Well, I'd still have been happy for you finding an established woman with a great job. Why couldn't you have just written me a letter telling me that? An email! Something."

"This is how it's getting done, Shane. Because this is the only way that truly ruins your life in the process. Because at the end of all of this, the backlash is going to be too much for you, and you're not going to be able to handle this life anymore…"

"No. Elliott, no."

"Yes. You're gonna take one last hit of the morphine and drive that shitty Ford right into the lake."

"You used to care about art. About beauty. You used to be sensitive. You used to have a soul. What happened, Elliott? What happened to your humanity?" Shane asked, crying, in mourning for the man he used to be. The one that she used to care for.

"I fell in love. And she broke my heart. And nothing has been the same."

"Elliott, I didn't mean to…"

"Oh, fuck, not you, don't be stupid. No, Kara. I met her right after you kicked me out, and SHE broke my heart." he  turned and started up the stairs, pausing to look over his shoulder and say, "I'll be back when I have your phone. And I'll bring friends." before he ascended, shutting the door firmly behind him.

She had never been so relieved to NOT have her phone in her life. Hopefully, her coworkers had it safe and sound, and locked up at work.

Up Next: Chapter 15-Recon

[imjustthemechanic]

The Price of a Soul

Part 1/? - Agent Russel Part 2/? - The Letter Part 3/? - Miss Lake Part 4/? - The Stewardess Part 5/? - An Assassination

Peggy finally catches up with Miss Lake, but not quite where she expected to.

-

As the sun went down, Peggy found herself with two men, standing outside the cell containing Johann Fenhoff.

He looked very different from the harmless and put-upon little man they’d pulled out of Russia years ago… part of it was that he was now rather better-nourished, but the way he carried himself had also changed.  Peggy had been taught how to read people, and ‘Victor Ivchenko’ had the body language of somebody who was resigned to whatever life decided to throw at him next.

Events since had made her very much less secure in the ability to tell what people were thinking based on how they held their heads, but it was still a very different man who was sitting there in that cell. Even with a muzzle on so he couldn’t try to sweet-talk his keepers, he sat rigidly upright with his chin held high, glaring at her through eyelids half-closed, like a cat biding its time.

“I don’t suppose anybody’s told you why we’re here,” said Peggy.

He could have nodded, shrugged, or shaken his head. His hands were free to gesture. But he chose to give no sign he’d heard her at all.

“We are here, Dr. Fenhoff, to save your life,” she told him.  “Apparently the Soviets have decided you’re enough of a liability to eliminate.”  She held up the drawing of Miss Lake.  “Do you know this woman?”

Fenhoff continued to sit there, just watching her.

She lowered it again.  “Your unhelpfulness will not earn kind treatment from your jailers,” Peggy pointed out.

He evidently did not care.

Peggy turned away from him.  If she could read body language, she could also write it – and she wanted to let him know that if he weren’t willing to help, he mattered not at all.

“You really thought he was going to tell you something?” one of the men asked.

“One never knows,” said Peggy.  “He might have thought he could get something out of it… but I see he agrees with me, that he deserves no better than this.”

And with that, the watch began.

There was one small window in Fenhoff’s cell, through which Peggy could see the sky darken to indigo.  Shortly after, the floodlights outside came on, pouring in to fill the edges of the room with coal-black shadows.  The prisoners were supposed to be asleep now, but Fenhoff stayed sitting up in bed, facing his guardians.  With his face in shadow, Peggy couldn’t tell if his eyes were open… she knew from experience that anyone who’d been through a war could sleep sitting up.

One of the men watching with Peggy dealt a hand of Spades, and they sat down to play by the shaft of light through Fenhoff’s little window.  Time began crawling by.

The prison was a surprisingly loud place at night. There was the sound of the patrolling guards with their heavy boots and their dogs, and boats chugging by on the river outside.  Prisoners would make noise and be shushed by officers banging on the bars of their cells. An owl hooted.  Somewhere a cat screamed in heat.  By day the sounds would not have bothered Peggy at all.  In the darkness, expecting an assassin, they set her on edge.  If her ears could have swiveled like a deer’s to take in the direction each one came from, they would have – she felt as if they were trying.

Her attention was repeatedly drawn to the window. It was too high off the ground to show when the guards and dogs walked by, but with the light shining directly in like that, anyone who tried to use it as an access point would cast a shadow directly across their game of Spades.  It was thick glass on the outside and bars on the inside, too close together for any human being to slip through… but it was still an access point directly from the outside.  If not for the glass, the muzzle of a gun could fit through easily.

One of the dogs barked not far away.  Peggy heard footsteps, but nothing seemed to happen, so she returned to the game.  Fenhoff was still sitting up in his bed, and Peggy suddenly wondered if he were already dead.  She swallowed.

“Dr. Fenhoff!” she called.

He started and turned his head to look at her.

“Sorry,” she said.  “I just wanted to be sure you were still alive.”

He sullenly resumed his former position.

That was when Peggy heard a small noise… a sort of pop, like a piston firing, followed by a soft groan… and then the heavy sound of something soft falling to the concrete floor.  Electricity seemed to run up her spine.  She jumped to her feet, scattering the cards.  “Dr. Fenhoff!”

Fenhoff stood up and looked around, very much alive. For the first time, he looked directly at Peggy, and she could see that his eyes were wide, frightened.  He pointed at the cell on the right.

Peggy dashed over to look.  In the next cell there was a shape on the floor, a mass of limbs and bedclothes where they’d rolled off the cot.  In the light from the widow, a dark stain was seeping into the blanket. For a moment Peggy almost wanted to laugh.  Had Fenhoff really been saved because their Soviet assassin got the wrong room?

But a man had still been injured.  “Get a doctor in here at once,” Peggy told the men, “and sound the alarm!”  Then she ran for the nearest exit.  They were on the river side.  The assassin must have come in by boat, and was planning to leave the same way. Maybe there was time to stop her.

Outside, the lawns were awash with the brilliant white of the metal halide lamps.  Beyond Westerley Road was the gravel bank that ran down to the river.  No boat was visible there, and as Peggy stepped out onto the lawn, she heard the alarms go off.  Guards who’d been having a smoke suddenly leaped to attention.  Dogs began to bark right and left, and the buildings lit up.  Whoever had been here now knew they were caught.  How were they planning to get away if not by the river?  Or was Miss Lake hoping to swim?

You think like them, Thompson had said.  What would Peggy do in this situation, with people alerted to her presence so that she couldn’t make the getaway she’d originally planned?

She would steal a car.

She made a mental note to be annoyed with Thompson later for being right, and ran towards the car park.  There were an unusual number of vehicles there for this time of the night, since there were dozens of SSR men there in addition to the usual guards and employees.  Sure enough, a set of headlights flickered to life, and an engine roared.

With no better ideas for the moment, Peggy threw herself onto the hood as the burgundy Ford sedan backed out of its parking space.

The driver immediately stamped on the brake, but had not been going fast enough for this to dislodge Peggy.  She held on and turned herself to see who was in the driver’s seat. The figure was small enough to be a woman, with her hair tucked under a black knitted cap and her face smeared with charcoal so that her fair skin wouldn’t stand out against the darkness. She looked astonished to find Peggy on her hood.

Peggy was not astonished at all.  Her emotions were, frankly, triumphant.

“Katherine Lake, you are under arrest,” she declared.

Lake then did exactly what Peggy would have done, and hit the gas to try to throw her off.  The car backed up sharply and collided with the one across the aisle. Peggy grabbed the sideview mirror and braced a foot against the hood ornament – the latter snapped off and jingled on the asphalt.  Lake made a hard left, drove right over the grass and onto the little bridge that crossed the train tracks.

Peggy got one arm through the window and a foot onto the running board.  She knew very well that Lake was going to go right through the prison gate and if Peggy were still on the front of the car when it happened she would be crushed. She made it with seconds to spare. Bullets pinged on the metal and shattered the back window as they passed the watchtower, and then splinters sprayed as the gate gave way.  Another right turn took them onto Hudson street, and the fugitive sped up as police sirens sounded behind them.

Peggy climbed through the open window onto the seat next to the driver.  “Stop this car!” she ordered.

The woman glanced at her, then put up a hand. Peggy moved to defend herself, but Lake – it had to be Lake – effortlessly twisted Peggy’s arm back and reached into her jacket as if to pull out her gun.  Peggy caught her wrist, and for a few moments the two women arm-wrestled over the weapon.  The car veered wildly left and right across the road, until Peggy finally got the gun out of her jacket and threw it into the back seat, where neither of them could get at it.  Lake couldn’t use it against Peggy, and Peggy couldn’t get carried away and kill the driver of a moving car.

“I said stop the car!” she repeated.

“Or you’ll do what?” Lake demanded, eyes on the road again.

They were coming to the end of Hudson Street. Peggy grabbed the wheel and forced it to the right.  The car ploughed into the bushes of Sparta Park.  Again, the two of them fought for control of a machine, until the car went right down the incline and into the Hudson River.

Lake kicked her door open and climbed out.  Peggy scrambled after her and jumped on her as she tried to crawl up the stony slope.  Together they rolled back into the water.  Peggy ripped Lake’s hat off and yanked on her hair.  Lake responded by driving her elbow into Peggy’s gut and then wrapping an arm around her neck.  Peggy reached back and yanked Lake’s legs out from under her.  Lake grabbed Peggy’s jacket with one arm to stop herself falling, and with the other pulled a small object out of her pocket.

For a moment Peggy thought this was a grenade.  Then the moonlight caught it, and she saw that it was… a perfume bottle? A fine mist from it sprayed in Peggy’s face.

She just barely had time to wonder what that was for, and then it was as if everything caught fire.  Her eyes, nose, mouth, throat, ears… everything was burning.  Tears poured down her face.  She couldn’t see.

Something hit her in the jaw, hard, and she fell forwards into the river. Peggy wouldn’t have thought it was possible that the pain she was feeling could get any worse, but it did, as if rather than putting a fire out the water just made it hotter.  She clawed her way out onto the shore and scrubbed at her eyes with her knuckles, but that made it worse, too.

She heard a startled cry and a honking horn.  Voices shouted.  What was going on?

“Carter!”  That was Thompson.  “Carter, where are you?”

“Down here!”  Peggy raised a hand and waved it, hoping she was facing the right direction.

The sound of shoes on stones approached her, and she flinched at the feeling of a hand on her back.  “Carter?” asked Thompson’s voice, right beside her now.  His other hand went to her waist, which she would have normally objected to, but if she were going to get anywhere she needed the help. “What did she do to you?”

“I have no idea.  What does it look like?” Peggy asked.

A flashlight light shone in her eyes, which was insanely painful but also somewhat reassuring – it meant she hadn’t been totally blinded.  “You’re bright red,” said Thompson.  “And swollen. We’ll get a medic in here.”

He helped her up the hill and back to the road, where the lights from two or three police cars illuminated a shifting mass of colours and shapes that refused to come into focus.  People were shouting and dogs were barking, and every light and sound seemed to drill into Peggy’s skull.

“We’ve got another for the ambulance!” he said.

“Another?” asked Peggy.  “What happened?”

“The blonde,” Thompson said.  “One of the cops ran into her.”

“See if you can find the perfume bottle.  That’s what she sprayed me with,” said Peggy.

She could tell that Thompson was enjoying the chance to swoop in and rescue her from something, but she was hardly in any shape to protest as he and another man helped her into the back of the ambulance. Somebody offered her cold water for her face, but Peggy refused emphatically.  “I think I need soap,” she said.  “Whatever it is, water alone does nothing for it.”

She could still see only lights and shadows, but sounds told her they were loading Miss Lake into the ambulance next to her. “How badly hurt is she?” Peggy asked.

“She’s unconscious,” a male voice replied, “but she doesn’t seem to have broken any limbs.”

“That’s good,” said Peggy.  “We need her alive to question her.”

The ambulance doors closed, and Peggy sat back, shutting her eyes.  She wasn’t sure if that helped or not, but at least it didn’t seem to make it any worse. It was only as they pulled away that she realized she had no idea who Miss Lake had shot, or whether the victim had survived.  She would have to ask Thompson when he came to see her.

[jungcity]

love, eternal. | iv

genre: reincarnation!au, fallen angel!au

[supernatural-ish, angst, use of blunts and intoxicants, extra asshole jaehyun, smut, vulgar words]

pairing: jung jaehyun x reader

words: 9k

notes: it’s been really hard for me to write these past few days. i don’t know if i’m writing sense into this fic. but i do hope that you enjoy this chapter! please leave some feedbacks (bad or good is appreciated! :) ) it would really mean a lot to me! thank you so much! also, this chapter is unedited, so forgive the errors xx

part i | part ii | part iii | part v

“There is a halo in your mouth

and I like how it burns.”

— Sincerely, Joanna

You lay in bed awake, the kiss you shared with Jaehyun occupying almost all the space in your brain. Tugging on your hair, you forced yourself to sleep and not let yourself drown into the feeling— for the kiss still lingers on your lips, making your chest swell in unbelievable happiness.

The dinged of your phone pulled you out of your fantasy, you grabbed it from the nightstand and saw Soojin’s name displayed on the notification panel.

[Are u ok? R u home?]

You typed in your answer, squinting from the brightness of the screen.

[Yes. I’m home. U?]

But before you decided to keep your phone, Yuta’s caller ID flashed on the screen. A frown slid past your lips, then you slide the red button. You currently do not have the energy to deal with anyone. But you at least owe Soojin a message to let her know that you’re home safe.

You stare at the ceiling, the image of Jaehyun flashing into the white color above. Jaehyun’s lips tasted of tequila and mint— so soft against yours. Out of all the boys that you’ve kissed in your lifetime, the one you shared with Jaehyun stood amongst others. Yes, you’ve kissed boys when you were drunk or sober, but none of their kisses made you feel light yet heavy— like you were flying and drowning at the same time. It thrilled you to the bones. You subconsciously touched your lips just to feel it one last time, and just to prove yourself that it happened. Jaehyun kissed you, and you kissed him back.

The realization of how happy you were of the experience blows your mind, and that how the touch of his lips felt like a distant memory. The caress of his lips, so familiar you started to wonder if you’d ever kiss him before.

But that’s impossible, right?

Dreaming again? The voice inside you asked.

You stare at the queen size four poster bed. Roaming your eyes around the room, you saw a vanity resting at the corner in front of the gothic-styled windows, and a dresser probably bigger than the bathroom you have home is located on the side.

The thick red curtains drapes down, their edges touching the tiled floor. You spotted a vintage hand mirror on the nightstand, the glass reflecting that of a moonstone you wonder if it’s used to mirror things or just a mere display. Shrugging, you placed it back and sat on the bed.

Your butt slightly sunk into the soft mattress, allowing a soft gasp to escape your lips. The mattress was so inviting, you laid on the pillows, and the same happened to your head— it also sunk in the cushion. You could sleep forever if you wished to. For there was no one in the whole room but you.

A sudden tardiness hugged your body whole as you lay still, your mind blank from everything. Not even the kiss you shared with Jaehyun could make you think of something other than the comfort of the room. You wonder who could be the owner of such a classic and magnificent room. He or she must be sophisticated to have owned such grandiose space. Despite the somnolence, you compelled yourself to stand. The room felt suddenly eerie because of its vastness. You would’ve shivered if not for the sunlight that’s infiltrating it through the glass windows.

Roaming your eyes for the second time around, your vision caught sight of the small veranda attached to the room, making you realized that it must be located on the top floors of a house. You pulled yourself up, the cold tiled floor biting on your soles. Barefooted, you walked to the veranda, night dress swaying in every step.

Vast green fields greeted you as you pushed the door open. Tall trees standing here and there with thick foliages. There was one who bends on the veranda: making everything looked like a Romeo and Juliet’s scene.

There was an easel supporting a finished canvas. Paintbrushes and different oil pigments sat atop a table beside it. A separate table with teacups and spoons resides in the nearest corner with two chairs around it.

Everything seems like a fairytale. The whole place felt so removed from the loudness of the society. A dream you once had as a child; serenity, with only your canvas, paintbrushes and pigments beside you. Now here it is, and it felt so real, kindling an ember inside you it could start a fire. You inhaled.

You stepped closer to the canvas. The hues of it being illuminated by the sunlight made everything so marvelous. It was bright, it was alive, and it feels like your own.

“Fallen angel,” you breathed.

It was an angel, falling from the heavens. Wings splayed, like he forgot how to use them and blend with the wind. The artwork gave the impression of an unending fall. His eyes had that horror of being banished, yet when you look at the wholeness of his face, you saw the fury that lies within.

“It is indeed a fallen angel,”

You jumped and turned around to greet the voice. Heart hammering against your chest, you saw a pretty woman standing behind you. Hair black as the night, eyes as the blue of the skies— she’s the one you saw in your reflection in the mirror. How?

“I am Aurora,” She extended her hands. You looked at her outstretched hands before reluctantly taking it with your hands and shaking it. It was so soft. No callouses could be felt.

“I am… Y/N.”

Aurora smiled. You’ve never seen someone as beautiful except for Jaehyun. She looked like a goddess ready to bring peace in to the Earth. Her smooth steps enthralled you, every move of her feet towards the canvas is like a silent wave of the waters in the ocean.

“This is unfinished.”

Her voice. It could lull any crying children to sleep; so soft, so serene.

“Really? What could be missing?”

You both stare at it and you noticed that your dresses are similar to each other.

“A tear.” She smiled at you. “Will you do the honors of completing it for me?”

Even if you don’t understand a single thing, specially her favor, you nodded. What could possibly be the reason of her asking for you if she could paint it on her own? And as if she heard the voices in your mind, she turned to you.

“I… don’t have the ability to finish it anymore.”

There was sadness in her eyes which quickly reflected on you. Almost like you feel what she currently feels. So you grab the paintbrush and started to dip it on the pigments. With Aurora guiding you, she pointed where exactly to put the tear. You oblige and started painting it.

“It’s don…e.”

Where is Aurora? You searched for her with your keen eyes, but there wasn’t any trace to tell you where did she possibly go. The door is silent, a proof that no one pushed it. All that you could hear is the rustling of winds against the leaves.

You longed to touch the canvas, to feel the bumpiness of the paint against it. Hair’s breadth away, you suddenly curled your finger. It was so perfect that you’d feel ashamed to taint it with your hands, even though you touched it with brushes, it feels wrong to let your hand feel it. So you look and look at it until you drank all the details in, with a promise to recreate it once you wake up.

Three knocks, those were the sounds that woke you up out of slumber. You heard the muffled voice of your sister against the door that’s separating you from the life outside.

“There’s a delivery for you,” said she, voice a bit louder for you to hear. You told her you’re awake, and that you’d just compose yourself so she should entertain the delivery personnel for a minute.

Delivery? You rack your brain of anything, thinking of the last thing you purchased online. And that is a new drawer to keep your art materials in place.

With a creased brow, you swiftly tied your hair while still thinking of what could the delivery be. Then the realization slowly hit you, your eyes widened and you ran outside, abandoning your hair half tied into a bun.

“Good morning, miss.” The delivery boy greeted, a soft smile on his lips.

“G-good morning,” You stuttered, heart rumbling.

“We’re here to deliver the painting purchased by Mr. Jung. Is he around?” He was still smiling, eyes roaming around the living room, searching for a man who isn’t there.

You composed yourself by breathing in and out, silently wishing that Jaehyun has already handled the shipping fee.

“He’s not around. But can I… can I receive the parcel for him?” You asked, surprised that you’ve said the sentence without stuttering.

It would cause a lot of trouble if you tell them that you mistyped the address on the mail you sent their company, so it’s best that you accept the package instead of asking them to deliver it to Jaehyun’s house. And you’re certain Jaehyun would kill you one or another.

“Oh, that’s unfortunate. But yes you can, Ma’am. Just show us your valid ID so we can tell Mr. Jung that one of his relatives accepted the parcel,”

You nodded at him and walked back to your room to gather your ID. He must’ve thought that Jung Jaehyun is living in this small apartment and that you’re one of his family members. The thought almost made you laugh and you scoff. Relative? I’m not even a friend, you mumbled.

You handed him the ID then he wrote your name on some paper and on the horizontal line at the end of a separate paper he’s laid on the table. He handed you the pen, then you wrote your signature above the name. He tipped his cap, walked back to the delivery vehicle and when he came back, he’s carrying an average sized parcel. By the looks of it, you bet the canvas is of the standard size. You guided him towards the sofa, where he laid the parcel carefully.

“Thank you,” You smiled, which he answered with the same gesture, tipping his cap again and bidding his goodbyes.

“What is that?” Yuqi asked, scrutinizing the parcel with a mug of hot chocolate on one hand. Sighing, you slumped in one of the sofas, covering your face with your hands.

“I’m seriously fucked up,” You told her.

“Why? What happened?”

“That is the parcel which was supposed to be delivered to Jung Jaehyun’s. Not here. I mistyped the address because of my agitation by Yuta’s arrival,”

“That jerk really couldn’t do anything right, could he?”

Yuqi was still a baby teen when she met Yuta, but her blood did not settle good in him. She warned you about her gut feelings towards him— that he’s bad news who’d shatter your heart in pieces. Guess what, in her young age, she was right.

“He even punched Jaehyun,”

“Wow! The audacity! Jaehyun could literally throttle him,” Yuqi stated, a scoff leaving her lips.

“Jaehyun did not fight back. Brawling with Yuta must’ve seemed so pathetic to him.”

“I guess so. Rich bachelors like him does not indulge themselves to useless—”

Your phone rang all the way to the room, making you jump in your seat and literally dive for it in your drawers. Jaehyun is calling. You gulped and pray before sliding the green button.

“The fuck is this, Y/N?! One job! You had one job! And you couldn’t even do it right!”

By his shouting, you pulled your phone away from your ear. You could see the veins in his forehead protrude in your mind, adding more to your anxiety.

“I’m—”

He breathed, “I don’t need your apology.” Then paused, “Deliver that here in thirty-minutes, or else…” He breathed again, and you swear your knees started to wobble. “You know what’d happen,”

Then he hang up. You hugged your phone to your chest, recollecting the sanity Jaehyun kicked out of your body. He couldn’t expect you to arrive in his penthouse in thirty-minutes when it’s literally one hour away from your house. But he’s Jung Jaehyun, and he always gets what he wants. It doesn’t matter how you get there, you just need to get there. Thirty-minutes, you dashed for the bathroom. Half an hour isn’t even enough to scrub your body clean. Dissatisfied from the five-minute bath, you rapidly put things in your bag and settled for a hoodie and pants.

Nice, twenty-minutes left. You didn’t even have any time to dry your hair, so you comb it on the way to the bus stop with the parcel tucked in your arms. It wasn’t as heavy as you’d expected it would be, but nonetheless, it was tiring to carry it all the way to the bus stop. Luckily, there’s already a bus waiting when you get there. You climbed on to the vehicle and made yourself comfortable by listening to some music.

It’s impossible to reach his place in less than twenty-minutes. So you disregard his death threats and think about something else. And that something else is the kiss you shared. Your heart suddenly made a jump, realizing that you’re going to Jaehyun’s house. The awkwardness settled in your bones, and the fact that you’ve never been there made you wary. You have no idea what to expect; a model walking out of his house?

Jaehyun doesn’t seem really interested in the opposite sex, but then he kissed you, ravenously. You blushed at the memory of him trying to suck the breath out of you.

The hotel where his penthouse is located loomed over you. You gasped while trying to see the peak of it, so high it made your nape hurt a little. And you frowned by the realization that you need to carry the parcel all the way to the top where his penthouse is located. Blowing out air from your mouth, you walked inside the hotel.

You stare at the canvas resting beside you while you stand in the elevator, wondering what kind of art it is. You’ve never taken Jaehyun to be fond of the arts, but here he is, proving your impressions wrong again. Coincidentally, you’ve also dreamed about a painting. Its memory already printed in your mind that your finger itch to start drawing it.

You stepped outside once the elevator door dinged, carrying the parcel in your hand. There was a single door at the end of the hallway. You have no idea how to tell Jaehyun that you’re already outside, and you don’t want to risk pushing the buttons and scanners in his door, so you sent him a text message instead, hoping that he wasn’t too busy to glance at it.

The door opened, but there was no one who greeted you. Automatic doors? Can’t relate, you whispered to yourself. You pushed the door wider, peeking your head on to the space. The whole house is as silent as a mausoleum. One word to describe the interiors? Magnificent. An expensive looking bachelor pad for a bachelor such as Jung Jaehyun. Everything in sight seems so modernized yet minimal. The hues of the furnitures blends in well with the color of the floor and walls. The ceiling is also high, and of course, a floor-to-ceiling glass windows.

You stepped your foot inside, expecting Jaehyun to appear in the corner to throttle you of your incompetence. Shaking the bad thoughts away, you completely entered the penthouse.

“Sir?” You called against the emptiness of it.

“Jaehyun! Faster!”

Chills ran down your whole body as you heard something erotic. It isn’t what you think it is, right? But the scattered clothes splayed on the sofas and floors told you that it is indeed what you think it is. Another grunt echoed of the whole floor, then a scream followed it. You couldn’t move your body. Maybe you wanted to run, or you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole. Because, Jesus Christ, you couldn’t stand and watch a live porn!

The moans and the grunts halted. And you still stood there, palms sweating with your forehead despite the ventilations.

“You’re here,”

“Holy mother of rectangles!” You jumped, your hand flying to your chest.

“I said thirty minutes,” Jung Jaehyun stated while leaning on the door frame with a glass of liquor in hand. He’s wearing a thin white long-sleeves, its fabric clinging on to his sweat beaded body, accentuating his chest and muscles. You thank God that he’s wearing pajamas, because let’s be honest, you’re not ready to see a limp dick today. God really do have mercy.

A girl slid her hands around Jaehyun’s chest. Despite her bedraggled hair, she is much fully clothed— maybe the clothes on the floors all belongs to Jaehyun. But you’re sure you’ve seen a female underwear— so the girl is not wearing her panties inside that body-fitted dress? You gulped down the thoughts. People could be really wild sometimes.

Wet, sloppy kisses filled the whole floor. You could only assume that the girl was giving open-mouthed kisses to Jaehyun’s back.

“Until next time baby,” She cooed, grabbing his crotch— grabbing his crotch?!— in front of you. She made it seem like there’s nobody standing there with them. You wanted to gag, but there was something in Jaehyun’s eyes as he looked at you while the girl literally shoved her hand inside his pajamas, doing God-knows-what with his penis.

The intensity of his stare suddenly makes it harder for you to breath. You felt something in your stomach uncurl as Jaehyun’s mouth slightly parted by the pleasure he’s currently feeling. Run, damn it. But your body felt leaden and you couldn’t move your feet. As much as you wanted to deny it, Jaehyun’s pleasured face made you feel hot all over. To your face down and in between your legs.

If the girl doesn’t stop giving Jaehyun a handjob, and if Jaehyun, himself, wouldn’t stop staring at you with that gaze, your knees would absolutely collapse any time soon. And as if Jaehyun saw your predicament, he pushed the girl away.

“See you soon,” Jaehyun muttered. Then the girl leaned forward, giving his neck a sloppy kiss.

You tucked the strands of you hair behind your ear, suddenly embarrassed of letting yourself watch the little scene that unfolded before you. The sound of heels echoed everywhere when the girl walked past, completely ignoring your whole existence. Like you didn’t just see her give your boss a handjob.

Jaehyun walked towards you while drinking the liquor in one go. Eyebrow already raised as he stood face to face with you. You didn’t meet his gaze, for the fear that he might see how flustered you were right now. And you didn’t want to give him any satisfaction of knowing that you were affected of his little foreplay exhibit.

You cleared your throat then offered him the parcel, “Here.”

He pointed the sofa with his lips. You have no other choice but to oblige. Heaviness tried to pull on your feet as you walked to the sofa, your nerves still in a frenzy as you lay the parcel above the cushion.

Jaehyun was still standing behind you, watching you like a prey he’s not sure whether to kill or to let go. Either way, you forced your feet to move, and walked past him. You have no more business to do for him, and you badly wanted to go home. The scene the two of them made in front of you is enough to knock your consciousness and put you in a coma. And maybe you’d need a dextrose full of holy water to cleanse your body.

He stopped you by holding your arm, “Where are you going?”

You deadpanned, “Home.”

“The kitchen is there. Make me something to eat,” He pointed with his finger, with the hand still holding the empty glass.

You stared at him, not believing his words. He didn’t just order you to make him food when he literally made some random girl give him a handjob while you’re watching, right? What kind of drug is he inhaling? You badly want to try some. Just to become as detached as him.

“It’s Sunday, Jaehyun.” You reminded him, dropping all the professionalism to make him remember that he couldn’t boss you around outside of work. And that he should probably head inside a church and cleanse his soul of anything ungodly lurking within. But of course, you didn’t say that.

“Don’t make me repeat it again.” He warned, then walked back to his room, leaving you irritated. To do what, you have no idea— maybe he’ll jer— okay, calm down Y/N.

There’s no point making sense with Jung Jaehyun. The man thinks he owns everything and everyone around him. He’s standing on a pedestal higher than your own height. You know you can’t argue with people like that. So you trekked the direction Jaehyun motioned earlier, and then you found the kitchen. It’s a U-shaped kitchen with an island on the center. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the tall buildings outside.

You placed your bag above the island, then you sauntered up to the two-door refrigerator. Of course, even his refrigerator screams ‘rich’, full of goods you bet he doesn’t even try to cook nor eat. You grabbed something that is easy to cook— eggs. Maybe you’ll make a soufflé egg, or a pancake— or maybe a meal that he could eat until dinner. Then you shook your head and reminded yourself not to be frustrated over what he wants. He’s a grown ass man, he could take care of himself.

Yes, he’s a grown ass man who could definitely take care of himself. But here you are, cooking soy garlic chicken for him. Jaehyun was still nowhere to be found, giving your head at least the peacefulness it deserves.

You pondered about what happened earlier. A girl moaning inside his room, then that girl giving him a handjob in front of you. The realization of him kissing another girl after he kissed you hit home. It shouldn’t even hurt you, but it did. Does he badly wants to rub your kiss off his lips? Of course it was a mistake, you know that. But it didn’t feel wrong to you.

What is wrong with me?

You calmed yourself by drinking a glass of cold water, forcing to forget everything like how you forced to swallow the cold liquid. But you know that’s impossible. You couldn’t just forget a kiss like that.

To keep your mind off things, you decided to make a coffee for Jaehyun. The chicken is all ready, but he still locked up on his room. He should really give you a large bonus for your effort of dressing his breakfast plate. You laid all the food in the dining table: soufflé eggs, vegetable salad, hotdogs, soy garlic chicken, rice, and his coffee.

Jaehyun showed up the same moment you gathered your bag to go. He’s wearing fresh clothes on: black shirt with a new and clean sweatpants, hair still wet and his face looking refreshed. Obvious that he just got out of shower. You stopped yourself from asking what could be his skincare routine when you remembered that rich people like him doesn’t need one.

He eyed the foods laid on his dinner table, you’re sure it’s his first time seeing that many dishes for his breakfast. Did you overdo it? The sudden thought of making an effort for him made you blush. You’ve never cooked food for someone other than your mother and Yuqi before. The reality of doing it for the first time for someone— let alone a man— flustered you.

“I left some of the chicken in the oven, you can heat it up later for dinner. Eat well.” You started to walked away, but he grabbed you again when you trudge past him.

You inhaled, closing your eyes. What is it again? Somehow, being this close to him made you feel lightheaded. Because of what? You don’t know and you don’t want to know. The mere touch of his fingers could send electric bolts in your whole body and you didn’t like the way he makes you nervous just by being near.

“What more do you want, Jaehyun?” You snapped.

He doesn’t let go of your hand when he said, “Aside from sipping a nice and warm coffee, maybe I want you to bend over this very table so I can fuck you raw,”

Jesus Christ. The next thing you heard was a loud slap of skin to skin. You stare at him, dumbfounded with a stinging palm. His cheeks turned ruddy by the contact.

His head was still in a sideway position when he smirked. You could hear your own heartbeat in your ears, so loud and so frantic you thought you’d go deaf.

“Do you… do you really want a lawsuit filed against you, Jaehyun?” Surprisingly, your voice box is still working on your throat.

If Jaehyun could laugh because of your statement, he would. But he only stared at you as if you’re the whole circus.

“I’d like to see you try, chérie.”

The caress of his voice made your skin prickle. You dared stare at his eyes, into those dark orbs no one could ever read. Hatred that no one could quenched stared back at you, with the intensity of the storm that lies within fueling it. Convoluted as it was, the hatred isn’t meant for you. It’s more like a tattoo, permanent in his eyes. But hatred isn’t the only thing that was reflected in those eyes— there was something else: desire. You shivered. In defiance of the hate that’s showing vehemently on his irises, you couldn’t deny that Jaehyun’s beauty is not of this world. With his face looking ethereal like that, he could be a deity.

“I’m… going.” You gulped down saliva, trying to salve your thundering heart. He did not say anything, not a word when you turned your back on him and walked away.

But you could swear you felt him looking at your retreating back all the way to the door.

—

Jaehyun stared at the foods lay before him on the table. Unable to process why did you cook so many. He palmed his cheek before sitting, feeling like a thousand ant is crawling on his skin, the others biting. It was well-deserved though, for being so callous of his words. Yet the words that came out of his mouth was not a joke, just ended up lecherous. And the emotion on your face while you watch Mina giving him a handjob flashed in his mind without warning.

There and there, in your spot, with your innocent doe eyes trying not to run from the scene made something in him twitch. But your expression was so priceless— forcing yourself to not give up any emotion as you watch them. It made him feel hotter, hornier even. That if he could pushed Mina away and grabbed you just to kiss you as he did in your living room yesterday night, he would. Yet a force inside him locked him in place, reminding him that the kiss you shared was nothing but the result of his impulsive ass.

He tried to erase it, you know. He tried to erase your soft lips— tasting of everything sweet against the cruelty etched in his— but he couldn’t. The way you kissed him back made him mad— mad at himself for enjoying it, mad at his heart for feeling something familiar. A familiarity he buried together with Aurora.  

He tried to shake it off by grabbing the hips of the unfamiliar girl underneath him, sure it’s going to leave bruises. Her fake squealing and moaning filled the whole house, but it didn’t even reach the emptiness inside him. So unlike the brief kiss you shared that sparked the fire long smoldered in his system.

He fucked her ‘til you arrived, just to let you know that what you shared was wrong. Not because he didn’t want it— heck, if he could claim you here and there, he would— but because he couldn’t taint another human being with the evil inside him. And he couldn’t afford to go down the path of trying to be good, just to be reminded that he’s not. And never will be.

What he felt for you, he couldn’t quite understand. When he sees you, he feels excited— alive even. And he’s certain Aurora would’ve cried of happiness if she knew he’s feeling something towards another girl again, after so many fucking years. After all, it was her wish before she blew out her last breath. For him to never forget love, instead cherish it. Hold on to it. Because it was salvation, she said. Yet Jaehyun couldn’t still believe it, if it was salvation, why does it feel punishment? Because it is a punishment, you fool, he whispered to himself.

He thanked his phone ringing of saving him into his thoughts. The name Johnny Seo displayed in the screen. He slide the green button, turning it on speakers.

“Bastard,”

“Puppy,” He reared back. Johnny is an alpha, and calling him puppy always raged him. Which is why Jaehyun branded him the name, to piss him off.

“I fucking hate you, you know that?” The wolf retaliated. Jaehyun nodded, taking a bite of his food.

“Anyways, you do know that my birthday is in four days, right? Or you don’t?”

Jaehyun could even see Johnny’s brow rising.

“I don’t. Birthdays are dramatic,” He prattled.

“Yes, because you don’t have one dickhead.” Johnny laughed.

If Jaehyun was an emotional wreck of an angel, he would’ve been hurt. But it’s the truth. He doesn’t celebrate birthdays because he doesn’t have one. He came into this world without going through the process of a mother’s pregnancy. But Johnny, and his whole pack of wolf has, being that they were all human once. Chaelin is the only one who shares the same struggle as him.

When Jaehyun didn’t bother to say anything, Johnny continued his sentence. “I’m celebrating it here, of course, in London.”

So the bastard is in London, Jaehyun whispered in his mind.

“You better go or else I’m pulling out my share in your company.” Johnny threatened. He would’ve laugh. Jaehyun is richer than all of Johnny and his pack of wolf’s riches combined. But he’s already planning to go to London for business, and he thought seeing how his comrades are faring with life every now and then isn’t a bad idea.

“I’m coming,”

“Come in my stomach then,” Johnny laughed.

It took Jaehyun a second to realize the joke. “Damn you, Seo.”

Johnny continued to laugh. Jaehyun attempted to pressed the red button when Johnny said something that perked his ear.

“Bring Y/N. Everyone will go. Including Taeyong’s clan and Doyoung’s group of warlocks.” — He said your name like you’re a friend— “Say I’m inviting her. I’ll handle her ticket, I know it’d hurt your ego to handle a pretty lady’s fare.”

“Shut the fuck up Seo, she’s not coming with me.” Jaehyun stated in a clipped tone. The thought of you meeting Johnny’s pack and Taeyong’s clan made his temper boil. At least you’re safe with Doyoung and the other warlocks if ever.

“Shall I call her myself then? She does not need to fly with you. She could arrive first, your choice.”

Jaehyun knows Johnny has his ways to contact you despite not knowing your number. And he couldn’t think straight of the possibility of you flying alone to London. Without him by your side.

“No, she’s my secretary. It’s just right that she flies with me.”

“You’re one hell of a complicated douchebag, Jung J—”

Jaehyun pressed the red button, not letting Johnny finish his sentence. Then he continued to eat, the thought of you going to London with him making him zestful than usual.

Then he remembered the forgotten canvas lying on his sofa. He stood up immediately and dashed to the living room only to slow down when he’s near. Heart thudding against his chest, a reminder that Aurora still have a part of him wrapped around her fingers.

He sat and stare at the parcel for a whole five-minutes. Readying himself to see the canvas inside that he knows too well— like the back of his hand. He grabbed it and slowly tear the thick carton wrapped in it.

Every inch of color sending bolts in his body. The familiar feeling of the canvas in his palms taking the breath out of him. He continued to tear the carton until nothing is left wrapped up around the art.

There it is. Aurora’s painting. In his hands. After so many years, he finally found the courage to stare at it. And the feeling is overwhelming. It’s overwhelming to see his own self, painted in the canvas made by the girl he loved more than life itself.

Of course Aurora knew.

Of course she knew that he was The Fallen.

And she never once judged him. Unlike all the people in the world, Aurora never turned her back on him despite knowing the truth.

That’s why his world crumbled for the second time when she died,— the only person who understood that Lucifer, himself, also needed love— slipping away from his fingers.

The art was wonderfully preserved, with only little to no dents. The pigments weren’t as bright as he remembers, but it’s the art of Aurora nonetheless.

His wings, the glowing of it intelligently captured by her. It made his lips slightly bend into a smile. But it quickly receded when he noticed something on the face. A detail he doesn’t remember noticing when he first saw the canvas one hundred years ago. A… tear?

It was so small, but it’s surely not a dent. For when he looked at it, the pigment stared right back at him.

—

You feel like shit when you came back home. It felt like you trekked a whole mountain from the unrest that you feel inside. Your bones feel heavy, your eyes too. And you blame Jaehyun and that girl for it. Her face, and her lips pressed into Jaehyun’s skin made you unexpectedly irritated. The mere thought of her sleeping on his bed made everything worse than it is.

Sure, she’s maybe a supermodel, or an actress, or an influential person and you’re just a secretary barely hanging on to life— but you could feel that the bond you have with Jaehyun is more meaningful than what they possibly have. Hearing yourself prattle about your vexation towards the girl and your boss, you tugged on your hair. You’re saying nonsense, Y/N. Of course, you and Jaehyun do not have any ‘bond’ to begin with and—

“Are you okay?” Yuqi looked up from her notes to you.

At her words, you realized that you’re already standing in the living room.

“Of-of course,” You blinked.

Yuqi shook her head, “Yes, Jaehyun and you do not have any bond. What else?” She teased.

Oh, so you said the words aloud. Your cheeks heated by Yuqi’s teasing. She’s just caught you thinking about your boss, and heard you blathering nonsense in the air.

Frustrated by everything, you decided to just paint something. The canvas from your dream begging to be recreated. You changed your clothes and readied your materials. Luckily, there’s a remaining canvas resting at the corner of your room, slightly smaller than the one in your dream but that could do.

You tied your hair in a messy bun before securing your canvas on to the easel, placing it facing the only window you have in your room. Light filters through, but not hot enough to make you wince. The weather is perfect with the sun hiding in the thick clouds.

Making yourself comfortable on the stool, you grabbed the canvas again. Hugging it onto the crook of your arm and tracing lines here and there to make the shape of the falling angel. The passion burning in your fingers prevented you from taking a rest, albeit your neck is starting to freeze and cramp.

Craning your neck left to right, you stare at the sketch. You couldn’t proclaim that it’s the same as your dream for the lack of colors it has, so you started to mixed oil pigments, with the hues of the painting from your dreams being your guide. You mixed blues for the skies, whites for the angel’s silk robe wrapped in his waist, blacks, reds, and oranges for the smoldering wings. But the one color you’ve had a hard time figuring out is the iridescence coating his wings. You needed your phone to search how to mix colors that’d look gleaming against the canvas. In the midst of your search, you’ve found out knowledge beyond what you expected.

Lucifer was God’s favorite angel. You could see it in his wings— for it glows unlike any other angels.

So, the painting must be an interpretation of Lucifer? You wondered.

Shiver like no other covered your body, the divine knowledge sipping in your mind. Because of that, you became more eager to finish the canvas. After mixing a lot of pigments and trying it to different papers, you’ve finally succeeded in making a glowing color. You laid the small jar on your study table, careful not to spill a drop, and continued to paint all around the sketch.

Yuqi called for you to dinner, the only time you allowed yourself to rest. You straightened your back and massaged your palms, numb from all the drawings and paintings you did. Before departing your room, you stare at the canvas. It’s not even halfway through, so you couldn’t make out the result in your head yet. You supposed you can continue painting it once you have the time, since it’s obvious that you wouldn’t be able to finish it today despite wanting to.

“What’s that you’re working on? Commission?” Yuqi asked as she swallowed a spoonful of ramen soup.

“Nope. Just… had an idea.”

Still, you remained quiet about your dreams. Not that anyone could understand them. You couldn’t decipher them yourself. And you know it’s best to keep them a secret for now.

Your phone lit up in the corner of the table, a text had just arrived. While munching on your food, you slid it open.

[We’re heading to London in three days. Send me your infos. Got it covered. Don’t ask too much questions.]

You forcefully swallowed your food, not wanting your mouth to spit it. Throat tightening, you drank a glass of water.

“What is it?” Yuqi asked, patting your back and peeking on the screen. “London?!” She exclaimed upon reading the message. You could only nod.

Jaehyun told you to book him a flight to London. It never occurred to you that he needed you to accompany him. The thought of flying to London with him gave you the good kind of goosebumps. But you didn’t allow your emotions to get the best of you. You typed in a reply.

[Okay, Sir. E-mailing it to you now.] But you really wanted to type in all-caps and make sure that you’re really coming with him.

You’re not certain you could get enough sleep tonight.

—

Days went on in a blur, and now you find yourself seated across Jaehyun in a first class plane. You decided not to move much, for you don’t have any idea how should you act around. Jaehyun does not spare you any glance at all. He’s reading a book for an hour now, completely ignoring your presence.

But before you got on the plane, he told you the real reason of bringing you with him after days of not telling you. Johnny’s birthday is tomorrow, and he invited you. The mere thought of him remembering you as you are and not as Jaehyun’s secretary warmed your heart. Unfortunately, you couldn’t buy an expensive watch or necktie for him so you sticked to what you do best— drawing. You drew him for days, leaving the other canvas you’re working on in the corner of your room. You could only hope that Johnny would like the gift.

Many things agitated you the whole hours that you’re sitting or leaning on your seat. Like, what would you wear? It’s not like you could wear your uniform in there. And you have no money to buy a dress. The money you have in your wallet is only enough to buy you, Yuqi, and Soojin souvenirs. As for Yuta, after days of trying to contact you and bombarding your phone with text messages, he finally gave up. You still haven’t had the guts to talk to him about his and Jaehyun’s brawl. Jaehyun never opened the conversation to you, too.

There’s many things that he does not try to address to you; the kiss, the little scene he made on his own house, and his comment about your soy garlic chicken. Yes, you bloody want him to say at least something about the food you prepared. But days had passed, no words came out of his mouth. He’s back to being the most cold-hearted man yet again.

You shifted on your seat, trying to rest your eyes. Jaehyun said there’s still three hours remaining before you land— the only thing he’s said to you. Clearing your mind off your thoughts, you close your eyes. This time, there’s no dream that accompanied the void in you.

You felt a nudge in your arm, Jaehyun’s voice looming around you, waking you up. The sting in your eyes hit the moment you opened them, squinting against the light around you. You noticed a small blanket wrapped around you, not remembering the moment you wrapped yourself in it.

“That… is the attendant’s doing.” Jaehyun pointed out, staring at you. And honestly? He didn’t need to do that. You know his personality too well to even assume that he’s the one who did it.

“We’re landing in five minutes,”

—

You arrived in Ridgemount Hotel after a hectic ride on a limo rented by Jaehyun, himself. Hectic because none of you uttered a word, your mouth has gone dry and jetlag kicked it the moment you stepped inside. You couldn’t even bring yourself to read something for the pulsating ache in your head.

Jaehyun’s hotel room is located across from you. Of course, he would prefer to spend a lot of money that to be wise and stay with you to the same room. Not that it matters to you, anyway. You’re definitely alright being your own specie in your room.

You have no idea how long did you sleep the jetlag away. There were no messages from Jaehyun when you opened your phone. You guessed he’s also getting some rest for the party tomorrow now that will be celebrated at Guildhall. The moment Jaehyun told you the venue, your eyes almost fell from its sockets. You only see Guildhall when you browse the web for medieval halls in London, and now you’ll get there tomorrow evening. The excitement is unbearable. You could literally jump from happiness. But a loud knock on the door stopped you from flinging yourself on the soft mattress.

“Hi!”

“Ms. Chaelin?”

The woman is smiling at you, wearing a white cardigan with a large belt wrapped around her waist. What is she doing here?

“Come in!” You said, letting her precede you to the door.

“Oh, your room is so cozy.”

She scanned the room with interest before sitting on the bed and looking at you.

“You’re probably wondering why I am here bothering your beauty rest,” She laughed. “But I’m just wondering if we could, you know, have some fun before Johnny’s birthday.”

“I— I’m afraid I don’t have…” Your voice faded, the sudden embarrassment coating you. But Chaelin only smiled at you, her face gave up the notion of telling you not to worry about a penny.

“Don’t worry about it! Everything is on me.”

“I can’t possibly accept that, Miss.”

“Just call me Chaelin. Please let me treat you. I wanna make up to the last time we’ve met. I know it wasn’t pleasant.” She wheedled.

She’s talking about your first week at Jung’s Fiscals. You waved your hands to tell her not to worry about it.

“It’s okay… you don’t need to. If there’s a person who should be doing that, it’s Jaehyun.” You told her.

“Yes! That’s right. Jaehyun told me— oh, nevermind. Do you have anything to wear?”

Jaehyun told her what? You shrugged off the curiosity. By her question, you slowly shake your head. That’s a problem you’ve been pondering on for hours now.

“Then all the reason for me to treat you!” Chaelin wrapped her arms around yours, not giving you any chance to argue.

You changed into comfortable clothes, fit for hours of shopping you assumed would take place. Chaelin waited for you, scrolling through her phone the whole time. According to her, all of Johnny’s friends will attend the anticipated party of the year. Not to jump into prejudice, you assumed Johnny is the kind of guy who throws absolutely crazy parties by the way Chaelin anticipates the event.

Knowing about the attendance of Johnny’s friends is the sole reason why you’re trudging the shiny floors and garish interior of a famous boutique near the hotel you’re staying in. You sent a simple message to Jaehyun, informing him that you went outside with Chaelin. As usual, he did not bother to reply.

You and Chaelin had fun. She literally made you her own personal doll, pulling you in and out of boutiques to dig every clothes there is that would fit you. You let her do her fairy-godmother work, being that you are lacking knowledge when it comes to the matter of class and magnificence. And you trust her taste enough to let her on her mission of finding the best dress for you.

Every now and then, she tells you about her friendship with Jaehyun. Not that you ask, but it made you curious nonetheless. According to her, they’ve been friends for a really long time now. It made you think that maybe they’d met in their elementary school. But Chaelin did not give you any specific date of their first meeting.

The day went on, and now you find yourself staring at the dress and stiletto Chaelin bought you. A promise to pay her was answered with a scrunch of her nose, telling you not to worry about the money and that she gave you the things wholeheartedly, not expecting any payment. It didn’t make you feel comfortable, but at least you relaxed by the assurance of wearing something decent tomorrow.

The door suddenly clicked open, and you jumped by seeing Jaehyun. He stares at you for a minute, obviously wanted to say something, but he rubbed his nape and closed the door again.

What was that?

You shrugged but after a second, the door opened again, revealing your boss with his back straightened, ready to give orders.

“Eat with me,”

Jaehyun did not wait for you to answer, giving you no chance to change your clothes. You supposed your current attire was enough, so you trudge outside and followed him to the hotel’s hall.

He sat, food in his plate. You followed after mere minutes of filling yours with delicacies you don’t know the name and haven’t tasted yet in your whole life. Jaehyun said nothing, just silently bite and munch his food. This is your first time eating with him, and you noticed that he’s feminine when he eats. There’s nothing wrong about it though, you just found the way he dabs the napkin on his mouth and the way he munches food so quietly, fascinating.

A glut of silence enwrapped the air around you. It could literally suffocate you, so with all your might, you tried to talk to him.

“Why did you let me come with you?” You have no idea why did you ask such questions, but Jaehyun only looked at you as if he’s had any choice.

“Johnny requested,” His curt answer.

“Johnny’s birthday must be so special. You even took your time to celebrate it with him.” When he does not answer, you continued your talking, “How about you? When’s your birthday?”

By your question, Jaehyun dropped his fork on his plate, creating a loud clatter to make the other hotel guests turn on the both of you. But he quickly regained his composure, giving a curt nod to everyone as a way of excuse.

“I don’t— it’s next month. 14th.” His laconic response.

“Okay…” You said, wary of his sudden lack of control.

“Excuse me,” He said, pushing his chair with the back of his knees. You nodded at him. But even after finishing your meal, Jaehyun did not go back to finish his.

You went back on your room calculating if you’d said something to irk Jaehyun. He wasn’t exactly annoyed, just taken aback? Nevertheless, you’ve gathered one information about him, and that’s his birthday. You no longer want to vex yourself by his constant berating, you thought knowing something about him would help pave the way of your bond.

While thinking about what could you give Jaehyun on his birthday, you wrapped the canvas you’d give Johnny tomorrow. After ten-minutes of cutting and ribbon-tying, you changed into new clothes and slept, a smile creeping up your face as you think about the event tomorrow.

—

Spectacular is an understatement to describe the Guildhall. Its chandelier hang high in the ceilings, with curtains draping down around them and with lights illuminating their color against the columns standing as posts of the whole hall.

Tables are decorated with a sophisticated yet manly touch. You assumed Johnny requested for a medieval touch to adorn the venue, which the organizers did an absolutely amazing job on. You feel like you were back the past. The period movies you’ve seen and books you’ve read all coming back to you— every scene and every word you thought won’t come to life is here, in front of you. The overwhelming happiness sits on your stomach, waiting to be unleashed.

“Y/N!” Chaelin waved, then she walked towards you with a wine glass in one hand. Jaehyun excused himself the moment Chaelin arrived beside you. He walked towards a pool of boys gathering around Johnny. Someone clapped his back, a man his age. But the younger ones nodded at him, reverence clear in their faces.

“You look stunning, Chaelin.” You greeted. The woman is wearing a velvet dress, hugging her curves, with a fur scarf wrapped around her arms.

“No, you look magnificent, love!” She cheered, pulling your hand and swirling you playfully, both your laughs joining together.

You’re wearing a tulle long dress, a mixture of champagne and blue fabrics adorning it. The stiletto you wear goes with the same hue as the dress. To be honest, you felt slightly out of place when you arrived, for the people around you wears monotone colors only. And you obviously stand out. But now Chaelin is here, you felt the pressure being lifted off of you.

The event started when Johnny went on to the platform, thanking each and everyone of the guess for joining him on his day. The bellows and laughters of his friends stood out among the crowd, their cheers slightly distracting Johnny. Your eyes automatically searched for Jaehyun, despite not screaming with the other boys, he has an unusual and once in a lifetime smile on his lips which made him more handsome that he already is.

He wears a simple black tuxedo, with his hair neatly parted and brushed up, a cowlick straying on his forehead. The color of his suit accentuated his pale features, making him ethereal in your eyes once again. He shifted, and met your eyes in the crowd.

His beauty locked you in your place with a heart thudding as you continued staring at him. He lifted his glass with a curt nod, a silent sign for you to enjoy the night. The small gesture made your heart swell in happiness even more, so you smiled at him. And he smiled back.

The evening moved on. You remained in your location, Chaelin giving you company. Johnny’s still walking around the venue, greeting acquaintances. And Jaehyun, he’s still talking with his friends.

“Aren’t you friends with them?” You suddenly asked Chaelin. She whirled at you before taking a sip of her drinks. Then she looked at the men surrounding Jaehyun in a sideway glance.

“Oh yes. Been friends with them for a really long time now. I’ve seen some of them grow up into the man they are today.” There was passion and love in her voice that you didn’t expect to hear. “That boy is Jeno,” She pointed at a boy with the warmest eyesmile, “We’re probably the closest, aside from Jaehyun. I adore that pup, quiet but knows when to enjoy.” She has that certain smile with her now, her eyes twinkling. Then she pulled you towards the boys suddenly.

“Let’s meet them!” She cheered. Although you were nervous in every step that you took, you let her sway you towards the men. Jaehyun met your eyes the moment you stood in front of them.

“Who’s this pretty lady?” A tall guy emerged from nowhere, bright smile directed at you. He was nudged by a smaller man.

“Jaehyun’s date,”— then he whirled towards you, offering his hands for a handshake— “I’m Ten.” You took his hand, expecting for a handshake, but instead he kissed it. Loud cheers emerged from the group, making you blush.

All of them shook your hands then, and you noticed they were glancing at Jaehyun as they did so, like they’re waiting for his permission.

“You must be Y/N?” The guy with a red hair emerged from nowhere. You slightly jump from his appearance; red hair, pale features, and his eyes, there’s a little red in his irises. Jesus Christ, he was beautiful.

“I’m Taeyong,” He offered his hand, then you shook it, still mesmerized by his exquisiteness. Taeyong, then, started to entertain you with his stories, never leaving your side until people started to slow dance in the middle of the hall. He excused himself then walked towards a pretty woman. You watched as almost everyone danced. Chaelin was with a boy you remembered named Doyoung. Seeing everyone enjoying themselves, it felt lonely suddenly. Out of place, even.

Then for the third time that night, Jaehyun met your eyes across the room. He’s got a wine glass in his hand while looking at you. Then seconds later, he drank all the contents, leaving the glass to the care of the waitress. Jaehyun walked towards you, every step making your heart beat louder, faster. He walked the earth like he’s a king. His mere steps could make the world stop on its spinning.

Then he’s standing before you, offering you his hand.

“Are you gonna dance with me or…?” He asked, the baritone of his voice sending you shivers. You locked eyes with him then took his hand. His eyes, never leaving yours too.

The slow music lulls the whole place with its softness. Jaehyun held your hip in one hand, and your hand in the other. Your heart maybe thundering, but deep in it, you know you’re in the safe place. You’ve never felt like this your whole life— like you’re becoming something other than the girl you are. There’s an ember inside you as you looked at Jaehyun’s eyes. A small fire waiting to be ignited. His familiar scent whiffed your nose as he spins you away and towards him. The familiarity of his face is staggering, yet you blame your dreams for it.

Your faces were too close, so close in the edge of the music. One push, and you’ll kiss in front of the people. One push it all it takes— then the music stopped. You held on to each other for a bit longer before Jaehyun guided you towards your table.

“I’ll get us drinks,” He whispered.

Your head was still swimming with the feel of dancing of Jaehyun when Johnny approached you, eyes bright. He automatically has his hand lifted for a high-five.

“Hey!” He called out.

“Happy birthday, Mr. Seo!”

“Please, just Johnny Y/N.”

You practiced the name with your mind before saying it out loud, “Happy birthday, Johnny!”

“There! Better!” He laughed but stopped when he saw the wrapped gift above your table, “Is that for me?”

“Uh, yes. I’m sorry this is all I could afford.”

“No, no, Y/N! Whatever is this, I’ll cherish it.” He smiled at you, “What is it by the way? You know, I really get too giddy whenever I receive gifts.”

“Oh, a portrait of you.”

His mouth formed a big ‘O’, asking for permission to open the gift, you told him yes since it’s his now. Johnny’s eyes bore an amazement that made you flustered. He stared and stared at the portrait.

“Wow, I am really touched, Y/N. Thank you for this.” Said he. You waved your hand to tell him it’s alright.

But then his eyebrows creased, his face shows an expression that of remembering something. Then he put his finger on his lips, contemplating the portrait.

“I know someone who had a similar art style as you,”

“Really? Who is he?”

You waited for Johnny to answer, an unfamiliar agitation rests in your bones by every second that passes of not knowing who the person might be. Then he snapped his fingers, creating a sound.

“Yes! I remember now! You have the same style as Aurora!”

If Johnny could clap, he absolutely would. You sat there, speechless. His other compliments were drowned by your screaming thoughts.

Aurora.

He said your art style is similar to Aurora’s.

Whoever she might really be, the mention of her name— specially in real life— never failed to send shivers down your spine.

You gulped and asked Johnny, “Who is Aurora?”

“None of your business,” The man behind you answered. Jaehyun.

You wanted to tell him she’s not ‘none of your business’. She was a product of your imagination, she was. And now the people around you knows her name. Johnny knows her. Jaehyun calls out for her name in your dreams. Your intuition tells you something is going on. But your throat has gone dry. No matter how much you wanted to tell Jaehyun that you dreamed about Aurora often, no words came out of your mouth. Your body feels heavy. And you know, you’re scared. Scared of the answers once you ask.

Aside from night black hair and blue eyes, who really are you, Aurora?

—

[damianwaynerocks]

Zuko & the Waynes - Chapter 3

Batfam/ATLA au

Description:  Prince Zuko, pre-finding Aang, falls into Gotham City. After being adopted by Bruce Wayne, Zuko finds himself enjoying life in this strange world. Zuko Wayne has a family who loves him unconditionally. Zuko Wayne is a hero, saving the innocents of Gotham City every night. But Zuko soon finds himself at the center of a plot that threatens to destroy not only this new world he's come to love, but also the world he's trying to leave behind.

A/N: okay, so the members of the titans and young justice team are different in this au.

Young Justice: Tim Drake (Red Robin); Cassie Sandsmark (Wondergirl); Kon/Conner Kent (Superboy); Bart Allen (Impulse)

Titans: Dick Grayson (Nightwing); Koriand'r (Starfire); Garfield Logan (Beast Boy); Rachel Roth (Raven); Jaime Reyes (Blue Beetle); M'Gann M'orris (Miss Martian)

Chapter 2 | Masterlist

Chapter 3:

"So, you remember the plan?"

"Yeah, we got it," said Cassie into her earpiece, having to raise her voice to be heard over the pouring rain outside. "Don't worry about us, we're fine."

"Good to know," Tim responded into the comlink.

It was the night of the auction. Zuko was wearing a black suit while Cassie was wearing a red dress. Both had their masks on. Kon, also known as Superboy, was sitting in the driver's seat. He was acting as their chauffeur, and was there as backup in case anything went wrong. Zuko rolled his eyes as he heard a slurping sound in his com link, presumably from Tim taking a sip of coffee.

 "That was gross," Kon sighed. "Don't do that." 

Tim ignored him. "Proud of you both. Remember, if the wrong person gets their hands on the magyntite, not even Superman will be able to stop them." He paused. "No pressure, though.”

"Wow, you're great at pep talks." Zuko adjusted the mask on his face, making sure it hid his scar. "You ready, Cassie?"

"I was born ready," Cassie responded with a grin. "Now, let's go, Henry."

"After you, Larissa." Zuko grabbed an umbrella and stepped out of the  self-driving black limousine they'd borrowed from Bruce. He went around to her side of the vehicle and opened her door for her. Cassie looped her arm through his, muttering a thank you as Zuko raised the umbrella above both of them. They walked into the casino.

 Just inside, a bouncer stepped in front of them. "How tall is the eagle's wingspan?"

"That means do magic," Tim said through the coms.

 "Uh," Zuko's mind raced as he tried to think of a spell on the spot. "Fire Dragon Iron Fist!" he finally said, and a ball of fire appeared over his closed fist. The bouncer nodded, and unhooked the red rope, allowing them to step inside.It was bright and loud and flashy, and Zuko had to stop for a moment to get his bearings.

 "You good?" Cassie whispered, placing a hand on his chest to steady him. "It's okay. Let's just go downstairs, follow me." She gently led him towards the back of this casino. Tim had told them that there was a staircase behind the bathrooms, and the basement was where the auction was taking place.They walked past the doors that said 'men' and 'woman' and opened the third door, revealing stairs going down to a concrete basement. "You okay now?" Cassie asked as they began to descend. 

 "Yeah," Zuko grunted. "I'm fine." They walked down a dark and damp hallway, a stark contrast to the bright lights and clean floors of the upper floor. The reached a huge room with a wrap around balcony overlooking the bottom floor. Many people, all wearing masks, were crowded together. 

"It's about to start, Mr. Henry," Cassie said. "Let's go sign in." The pair walked through the people until they reached the stairs leading to the bottom floor. Arms still linked, they walked down the stairs. 

"There's a ton of people here," Zuko mused. "I wonder what they all want to buy." 

Cassie shrugged. "Drugs. Artifacts. Who knows." 

They made their way to the middle of the throng of people and sat down in two of the chairs. The auction started soon after, and the words the auctioneer was saying sounded like white noise to Zuko. Finally, twenty minutes in, Tim's voice in his ear made Zuko flinch. "Magyntite is next," he said. "Be ready."

Sure enough, the man held up a silver briefcase. "Magyntite!" he yelled. "This drug is like Kobra Venom! Bulk up your muscles, lady and gentlemen. Do I hear... two million?" Zuko raised his hand and the same time another man did. The man glared at Zuko, who did the same.Back and forth this happened, Zuko and this man trying to get the magyntite. In the end, though, Zuko and Cassie got it for $45,000,000.

 "Holy crap," Cassie breathed as they walked back up the stairs. "That man wanted to kill you." 

Zuko hummed. "He isn't the only one." 

Cassie gave him an amused look."Is that so, Sir Henry?"

"Indeed it is, Lady Larissa."

Golden eyes gazed into blue for a second, both having small smiles on their faces.

  "Yo, you guys get it?"

"Uh, yeah," Cassie replied, breaking eye contact. "Yeah, we're heading back now." 

Zuko's face reddened. He hadn't felt any feeling similar to that since Mai, when he was thirteen. He shook his head to clear it. Don't be stupid, he told himself. Don't even go there. No chance of that happening.

"You good?" Cassie asked, raising an eyebrow under her mask. Zuko cleared his throat and nodded a little too quickly.

"Me? I'm great. Splendid. Never been better!" he babbled. "Oh Agni, I bet Kon is going crazy! Uh, let's go see him!" He linked his arm with Cassie's and half-led half-drug her through the club and out the door.

"And the lovely couple returns!" Kon cheered as Zuko opened the door for Cassie. "I missed you! Tim told me I couldn't listen to my podcast because I had to stay alert so I've been bored out of my mind."

"Oh, poor baby!" Cassie mocked. "Do you need a massage and a nice cup of tea?"

"I do, actually."

"Too bad, Superbrat."

 Zuko looked out the window. He missed his uncle's tea.

 Only 11 more months. 

___

The next morning, Zuko, Duke and Damian were at the table eating breakfast. Zuko was about to put a piece of bacon in his mouth when he felt eyes on him. Looking up, he frowned as he met Duke's eyes. "What?

Duke's eyebrows were furrowed in disbelief. "Dude, it's 7:00 in the morning. Why are you already dressed?" 

Zuko blinked. While the others were in their pajamas- Duke in an old t-shirt and shorts and Damian in his silk robe -Zuko was in jeans and a Ralph Lauren button-up, his hair in a topknot. He would've put shoes on, if it weren't for Alfred's no-shoes-in-the-house rule. "I'm used to getting up at dawn and getting ready. It's what I've done for three years."

Duke shook his head. "You're making me feel like a slob, Zu."

 "You will not feel that way for long," Damian spoke up. "For I hear Drake coming down the stairs." 

Sure enough, Tim walked around the corner, staggering to the table. He was in an over sized black Superman shirt and his boxers with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. His long hair was a mess, and the circles under his eyes made it look as though he had been punched in the face.  Alfred pulled out a chair beside Zuko, a cup of coffee already in his hand. Tim stumbled towards the chair, looking as though he was about to pass out. He sat down in the chair slowly, and Alfred immediately put the cup of coffee in front of him. Tim blinked slowly, before picking up the coffee and bringing it to his lips. 

"Well," Duke chuckled. "I no longer feel like a slob." 

Damian wrinkled his nose, scoffing at Tim. "You are a disgrace, Drake. Have some self respect." Tim stared at him owl-eyed in response.

 "Just give him like ten minutes," Duke said. "Anyways! So I heard you went on a mission last ni-"

"Master Duke!" Alfred interrupted him sharply. "Might I remind you the rules of breakfast?" 

Duke seemed to shrink into himself as he answered in a small voice, "No vigilante talk at the breakfast table." Alfred nodded in approval before going back into the kitchen. Duke turned back to Zuko. "Later."

Zuko hummed in response. 

--

As soon as breakfast was over, Duke ran to Zuko excitedly. "So!? How'd it go?"

"It went fine," Zuko replied. "I mean, we went in, got the stuff and got back in the car."

"That's it? No fights?"

"No fights."

"What about Cassie? Any emotions?" 

Zuko coughed, his eyes widening. "What!? No! Don't be stupid!"

Duke laughed. "Dude, you're gonna have to get better at lying if you want to join the business."

"Which could start right now, if you want." Zuko and Duke whirled around to see Bruce holding a cup of coffee. "You've been here for a month. You can fight and you're smart. You're welcome to start training today, if you want."

Zuko's jaw dropped. "Uh, yeah! That'd be great!" 

Bruce smiled."Fantastic. Go get changed into something comfortable and we'll start."

Zuko practically sprinted to his room, but before he could change, his phone chimed.

Cassie Sandsmark: good morning doofus

.Zuko grinned in spite of himself.

Zuko Wayne: good morning!

Cassie Sandsmark: how'd you sleep?

Zuko Wayne: great but i don't know if tim slept at all he's barely alive right now

Cassie Sandsmark: sounds like tim

Cassie Sandsmark: so when u joining the hero business

Zuko Wayne: right now,, I'm about to start training

Cassie Sandsmark: YAY TELL ME HOW IT GOES

Zuko Wayne: of course

__

Training, Zuko decided, was difficult. It'd been a month since he'd started, and while he was improving, he was sore and sick of computers. 

"If I have to break another one of Tim's codes, I'll kill myself," he groaned, flopping on to the couch beside Damian, who nodded. 

"Every time Drake speaks, I want to kill myself." Zuko eyed him wearily.

"That's harsh."

"Such is reality." Damian flipped to the next page of the book he was reading. "So, your first patrol is tomorrow?" 

Zuko grinned."Yeah. I'm so excited." He sat up, cracking his knuckles. "Gonna be a blast."

"Are you finally adequate at lying?" 

Zuko winced. "It took me a while but yeah, I got it."

 "Good. We cannot have you exposing our secret." He looked up from his book. "Christmas is next month. Pennyworth instructed me to inform you that he needs a list of what you wish."

Zuko groaned. "I have no idea what I want."

"Well, figure it out," Damian replied. "Because if you do not, I'll have to listen to the complaining."

__

It was the night of his first patrol. Zuko turned to the mirror. His suit was a black kevlar lined jumpsuit with an obsidian utility belt and combat boots of the same color. There was a blue bat symbol across the chest, and a demon-type stage mask of the same color on his face. He looked at the blue gauntlet on his wrist and flexed his arm.

Dick whistled lowly. "Lookin' sharp, Zu."

Zuko grunted in response, but he couldn't stop the corners of his lips from twitching upwards.

"Good to see you suited up," Bruce said as he saw his son. He turned to the Bat Computer and typed something in. "Alright. Nightwing and Robin, you take the east side. Red Hood and Black Bat, you take the west. Red Robin, you take south. Blue Spirit and I will take north."

"You got it, boss man," said Jason with a mock salute. At that, the vigilantes headed out.

"Remember," Bruce began as he and Zuko got into the Batmobile. "Code names in the field." Zuko nodded.

"I won't forget, Batman."

"Good to hear, Blue Spirit." 

After a few minutes if driving, Oracle spoke. "Croc is robbing a store on the corner of North and Order," she said. "Blue Spirit and Batman are closest."

"We're on it," Bruce said, and sped up. 

They reached the corner in five minutes, and jumped out of the car. "Croc!" Bruce yelled.

A huge reptilian humanoid turned toward the voice, and smiled. "Batman!" he chirped. "And who's this?"

"Blue Spirit," Zuko said stiffly. 

Killer Croc chuckled."New kid to destroy? I love that." 

Croc rushed him, snapping his jaws viciously. Zuko jumped into the air, doing a flip over the creature. Fire blasted out of his elbow and he punched Croc in the snout as he turned. 

Croc stumbled back. "Igniting your elbow to increase the force of your punch? Smart. Not smart enough." He ran towards Zuko again, claws outstretched, moving at inhuman speeds. Zuko ducked under his claws and gave an uppercut with the same advantage into his stomach. Croc was thrown into the air by the force. Before he could land, Zuko sent a blast of fire at him, engulfing him in flames. Croc screamed and fell to the ground, charred and smoking.

 "He's still alive," Bruce said gruffly. "Not bad. I'll call Gordon." Zuko's chest swelled with pride, but he simply nodded. 

"There's a robbery at the R&D center of Enterprises," Oracle said suddenly.

"Blue Spirit and I are going to check it out," Bruce answered.

"10-4," Dick replied. "Call if you need backup." Bruce grunted in response and, gesturing for Zuko to follow, jumped back into the Batmobile before speeding off.

"R&D?" Zuko echoed what Oracle had said earlier. "What's that?"

"It's the Research and Development Center," Bruce replied. "It's where we store Batman Inc. tech that's still in production."

"Oh."

“That's right. If anyone succeeds in getting their hands on what's in there-"

"-They'll get their hands on everything." Zuko bit the inside of his cheek. "It's fine. We can do this."

A hint of a smile ghosted across Bruce's lips, so small that Zuko wasn't sure if it'd even been there in the first place.

__

The Research and Development Center of Wayne Enterprises was primarily used to develop advancements in technology. These advancements ranged from more effective cancer treatments to new engines for vehicles.The blueprints listed the building as being eight stories. Unbeknownst to the majority of WE's employees, there was a basement. A basement hidden far below the actual building, so far below than an express elevator was needed. This basement was where the technology for Batman Inc. was developed.

Unlike the secret basement of Falcone's club, this basement was in pristine condition. It had a hospital feel to it, with white flooring, walls, and ceiling. 

Bruce and Zuko had just grappled down the elevator shaft was landed at the end of one of the basement's hallways."The only alarm that's been triggered was the entry alarm," said Bruce. "The rooms where the... merchandise are kept have separate alarm systems. Can you tell me what this means, Blue Spirit?"

"The intruder either doesn't know what exactly is down here, or they just haven't managed to get into the rooms yet." Zuko frowned. "Wait, if they figured out this place was here then that means they definitely know what's down here. So then they haven't found the location of the 'merchandise.'"

"And you believe that to be the most probable scenario?"

"Well... yeah. I mean, unless they managed to bypass the alarm system. But that's impossible, this place is un-hackable ever since that incident with Ra's al Ghul. The security system is invincible. Right?"

"Rule of thumb, Blue Spirit," Bruce grunted, raising his arm closer to his face to he could activate his gauntlet. "Nothing is invincible. Everything has a weakness. Some are harder to find than others, but the only thing that is truly invincible is God Himself. And I don't think He would have any reason to break into Wayne Enterprises."

"Okay, but they tripped the alarm when they came in," Zuko pointed out. "So they must not have been able to hack the system."

"Unless they want us here."

Zuko sucked in his teeth. "So that's what you think? This is a trap?"

"It isn't a trap if we know about it," Bruce countered. "Here, I'm pulling up the motion sensors." Sure enough, the holographic screen coming from the gauntlet showed motion in room 121.

"Is that one of the rooms?" Zuko asked. 

Bruce nodded."Yes." He and Zuko started to run in the direction of the before mentioned room. "There's very dangerous technology in there. We need to stop this intruder now." The two were sprinting, taking twists and turns through the winding hallways until Bruce stuck his arm out, signaling for Zuko to stop. In front of them was room 121, the door ajar.

"Holy crap," Zuko whispered. "They hacked us."

"They hacked us," Bruce echoed. "And now they're going to pay. Manuever 13. Be cautious." Bruce rolled a metal ball into the room, and it exploded into smoke Using the smoke as cover, Zuko and Bruce dashed into the room. 

Using the heat signatures to see through the smoke, Zuko jumped forward, swinging down his broadswords in arc. His eyes widened as they hit air; the person had disappeared."What-" he broke off as someone landed a hit to his spine. Zuko whirled around, kicking out at his attacker, yet his foot hit air as the assailant dodged again.

"A teleporter?" he muttered. A laugh hit his ears, and the assailant landed another hit to the back of his head. Zuko tried to return the hit with one of his own but, of course, he missed.So far, Zuko noticed, they were teleporting closely around him. They were staying in close proximity with him. It would be hard to deduce where exactly they would strike, unless he limited their options.

Zuko stomped on the ground, and a ring of fire flared up around him. The attacker led out a gut wrenching scream as they were caught in the flames.He caught a glimpse of a person in a black suit clutching their arm before they teleported above his head, aiming a dropkick above him.

 But Zuko had anticipated this. He grabbed their leg from above and slammed them on the ground. They landed with a crack and coughed.

"You just broke my spine, you asshole," the person wheezed. They were still now, and Zuko could see she was a girl with long brown hair in a wine-colored robe. 

Zuko gulped, forcing down the rising panic at the girl's words. "Maybe you shouldn't have tried to break my skull."

The girl shrugged. "Just following orders."

"Who are you!?" Zuko snarled. "Tell me! Who are you and what do you want with this technology!?"

"Well, if you must know," the girl said, pain evident in her voice despite her calm tone. "I am but a servant of The Lady of the Dual Skies."

"The Lady of the Dual Skies?" Zuko echoed. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing's taken," Bruce said as he crossed his arms from where he stood behind Zuko. "Nothing has even been tampered with. You clearly weren't looking for anything here. So what did you want?"

"The Lady does not permit me speaking with anybody but you." The girl was speaking directly to Zuko, not sparing Bruce a glance. "She has something she wishes you to know."

Zuko narrowed his eyes behind his mask. "And what would that be?"

The girl grinned wickedly. "She says she'll see you soon."

With that, a portal opened up under the girl and she disappeared in a flash of purple light.

[finaldreams1106]

oh MAN is there going to be a continuation for buried alive? no rush though, just if there wasn’t before i’d request a continuation please and thank you

I can keep it going! It’s one of the few with named characters after all :D I’m not sure where it’s going to go from here, but I have some ideas 🤔

I hope you like it!!

Buried Alive Part 7

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6]

Flore inhaled deeply, dragging the air through their teeth, trying to reawaken their mind. Then, they felt it. The stabbing of a thousand needles spreading throughout their body in a fiery rush as their powers returned. Their eyes flew open, their body arching as muscles, bones, and tendons all pulled together and reknit. Blessedly the flowing power also cleared their mind, soothing the raging pain that had been beating against their skull.

Then, after a few blazing seconds, their body fell limp again. Collapsing against the table as their initial surge of power faded back to its normal levels. Just a sliver of power working through their vessels, repairing tiny tears in their muscles, reinforcing them. Flore panted, trying to focus their eyes as their body returned to its natural state. They had no idea what that had been. They had never been without their powers before, had had not idea that they would build.

Briefly Flore wondered what would happen if they were left in one of those jackets for months, or even years. They stared at the stained fabric, now a deep brown from the mud, and shuddered. They didn’t want to find out how more power ripping through them would feel, it had been almost foreign. A lighting bolt rather than their own strength.

Their stomach twisted, it frightened them, this power that was supposed to be theirs.

Their movements jerky with forgotten strength, Flores gathered the vest and folded it. They would trap Villain in the same vest that they themselves had been trapped in. Then they hesitated, they didn’t have their satchel or anything else to carry it in.

“Here,” Roland said, his voice still strained, “you can use this, take it as an apology.”

Flores stared at him; they had forgotten that he was there. He held a string bag, nothing fancy, it looked like a souvenir from an overpriced event. But it would work, they shoved the vest inside, grateful that it was out of sight, then slung the bag itself over their back.

It wouldn’t take long to get to the city, they ran from the room, feeling their power surge with the movement. They could run faster than a car could drive, their muscles reinforced far beyond that of a normal human’s, without tiring. As soon as they reached the sunlight Flore increased their stride and speed, racing past the young girl holding a bear and what looked like a box of chocolates.

They ran down the highway, taking the indirect but smooth route rather than trying to clamber through the forest, passing cars. They tried to ignore the flood of vehicles leaving the city, and the relative emptiness of the path in.

Their legs burned, sore from the pounding so soon after their healing. Flore wasn’t tired, not really, but they could feel the strain. One ankle in particular started to burn, something about it not quite right despite the healing. Flore ignored it, running doggedly towards the city, and dreading what they would find.

They were nearly there when they saw the smoke, a black plume rising at the city’s fringe. The rank smell of burning rubber started to fill the air, making Flore’s eyes and throat sting as they raced towards the fire.

“Where have you been?” someone asked, their voice sharp with accusation.

Flore stumbled sideways a few steps in surprise before returning to her mad rush, “nice to see you too, Heven.”

The other Hero flew beside her, uniform stained with smoke and blood. He flew in silence for a second, “we don’t know who’s responsible.”

Flore nodded, “It was,” they hesitated not wanting to say Villain’s name out loud, “it was Jazby. She managed to nab me, I don’t actually know how long ago. How long have I been gone?”

Heven looked at them strangely, “nearly a week, what happened?”

Flore started to answer, but instead started coughing as a gust of wind swept more burning smoke towards them.

“Never mind, you can tell me later, we need to get that fire out.”

Heven flew faster, darting in front of Flore to leave a semi-clear trail through the smoke. Flore tried to follow it, tried to focus on the fire, and not on what had happened to them. It got easier as soon as the screams started.

Civilians were running, some into each other, trying to get out of the noxious haze of smoke and heat. Flore started darting amount them, pointing them away from what looked like a factory, and scooping the collapsed ones up. They weren’t as fast as Heven, but they were stronger, and started ferrying out uninjured civilians two at a time. The injured went out alone, cradled in Flore’s arms as they tried not to jostle them.

It took almost two hours to clear the building, but Heven called it after checking the last room. They didn’t try to fight the fire itself, instead they backed away to breathe clean air and watch as the building collapsed in on itself. Civilian firefighters didn’t fight the blaze directly, they were soaking surrounding buildings in an attempt to stop the spread of hungry flames.

Flore collapsed on wet grass, staring as the twisting black and orange of smoke and flame, their ankle swollen. They didn’t look at it, at the angry red blood that had been swollen pink flesh a few hours before.

Heven alighted next to them, their light blue cape reduced to a burnt rag of black.

Flore glanced at it, surprised that Heven hadn’t just ripped it off instead of letting it burn up his back.

“So, where have you been?” the accusation was still there but softened after Flore’s earlier claim.

Flore looked down, their face burning red. “Jazby, um. I don’t know how she got me.”

“Are you about to tell me,” Heven asked settling down on the grass next to them, “that you were grabbed in your sleep?”

Flore nodded, “I woke up with a rag in my mouth, it was soaked in something. . . and, she had an anti-villain jacket.”

Heven stiffened beside them, “do you know where their base is? I assume that’s where you’ve been locked up.”

Flore looked away again, picking at the grass. They didn’t want to say it. But, well, they didn’t have much choice. “No. She, uh. She buried me in the forest.”

“Did you say buried?” Heven asked, confused.

“Yeah, in a pit. With a mask so I could breathe. Some kids found me, started to dig me out. I got here as soon as I could.”

“Fuck.” Heven said.

Flore shrugged, not wanting to think of the crushing blackness. “There’s something else,” she whispered, “I, I let a truth-seeker in. It was the only way I get him to trust me enough to get out of the jacket.”

“So the base is compromised then?” Heven was angry now, thinking of the work it would take to relocate. Flore was sure that he hated them. “Or,” he continued, “did this rouge truth-seeker just so happen to be trustworthy? That seems unlikely, since all registered truth-seekers are currently in the city.”

Flore’s eyes filled with tears, they tried to convince themselves it was their body trying to flush the acidic particulates out. They didn’t do a good job. “I’m sorry,” they said, staring down.

Heven snorted, climbing to his feet, they rising to hover just a few inches off the ground. “Sorry,” he repeated, “well, thank god for that.” He started to fly away.

Flore watched him go.

“Well, that certainly didn’t go well.” Jazby said, appearing beside them in a flash of white.

Flore whirled away from the villain, fists coming up defensively as they stared at the unassuming woman. She was dressed in a white suit, it looked like the same one she had been wearing when she buried Flore, but it wasn’t stained with mud.

“Did you say you found a truth-seeker?” she asked, unconcerned with Flore’s aggression. She merely teleported a few feet away as Flore tried to swing.

“That’s very interesting,” she continued flashing to reappear again to Flore’s right, “I thought they were all accounted for.”

Flore grunted in frustration as she once again missed Jazby.

“I think,” Jazby said, rubbing their chin with a white gloved hand, “that I’ll go pay this truth-seeker a visit.” She smiled at Flore, all teeth, then disappeared again.

Flore swore, and tried to take a few running steps. Then stopped as their ankle flared with pain, there was no way they would make it to Roland in time. They stared towards the city where Heven had disappeared, and they didn’t think they would get much help from their team.

[snarkwrites]

Abandoned amusement part for spooky locale prompt

Oooh, thank you for sending this. I love this idea, by the way. One thing came to mind when I got this and that was that I wonder how this would play out in the Walking Dead universe . So, hope you don’t mind! I hope you like this. I also hope it’s actually worth a shit. The idea came to me like this so I went all in with it. And I really, really enjoyed doing it. FYI, I almost went with AHS:Freak Show, but yeah..

I enjoyed doing this, again. Thank you for sending it.

[ send a character name / spooky scenario and location and I’ll write a drabble about it ]

WARNINGS:

uhh.. An OC of mine, Evie Grimes has been revamped. And she may or may not be a little out there in some ways... Like.. Too much. Idk. Lots of swearing. Mentions of gunshots. Me, dicking around with my own alternate universes and what actually took place on the series.... Again, lol.

TAGGING:

@chasingeverybreakingwave 

@kyleoreillysknee 

@rampagewriting 

@missjenniferb 

** off the top of my head, these are the only people I could think might even want a tag.. If you wanna be tagged in my writing on this blog pls see the tag doc link below. Or tell me.]

OTHER STUFF:

[ masterlist - about page - tag doc ] 

My lungs burned but I didn’t dare stop. A chain link fence stood between me and my doom and without thinking, I scaled the fence right as a decayed hand raised and very nearly got hold of the heel of my biker boot. I kicked free and tumbled down onto the other side.

I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t turn back. Give the finger to the horde of zombies I’d been outrunning. Probably wasn’t the smartest idea I’ve ever had, but... I did it. After turning away from the horde and moving quickly past a tattered and worn red and white striped tent close to me, I crouched down and started to work on reloading my gun. Once I got that reloaded, I reached behind me and produced my bow, making sure I still had a few arrows left in my quiver. Satisfied that I had my gun loaded and I hadn’t used all my arrows yet, I took a second or two to catch my breath.

The smell of smoke hung heavily in the air and I noticed it then... The flickering light over by an older model pop up camper. “What the hell?” the words came in a quiet gasp because I still hadn’t gotten my breath back completely yet, but curious as to who else might have taken cover in this empty amusement park, I made my way over to the source of light.

This was probably my first -and biggest, mistake. Before I even got halfway across the amusement park, I felt the cold metal of a gun barrel against the back of my skull.

“Where th’ hell you think yer goin, huh? You the reason them damn Walkers are lingerin outside the gate right now?” - that voice.. There was something so familiar about it. Take away the coldness and the anger in the tone and I’d almost swear on my life I’d heard the man currently speaking before. On numerous occasions.

“First of all, lower your fucking weapon.” I tried to stay calm as I said it. The man standing behind me chuckled. “You’re dumb if ya think I’m gon just put down my weapon. How do I know you ain’t with Rick’s group... Or that other sumbitch, Negan?”

And then, it clicked. Shane Walsh. My former childhood crush. My brother’s best friend and former partner at King County PD. ,, it can’t be. he died. Rick told you exactly what happened that night before you got separated...”

“I said... Lower your goddamn gun.” I repeated myself. “If you’d just let me turn around, you fucking idiot, you’d know exactly why I’m not the enemy. Now you on the other hand... You’re supposed to fucking be dead.”

I could hear him shuffle his feet. Clearing his throat. I didn’t have to be looking at him to know that my assessment shocked him. And yeah, parts of me were wondering if he’d put two and two together on his end of it all yet. Given what I remember about Shane, it’s highly doubtful. Man was kind of a meathead like that.

So it shocked me when he muttered in a quiet and shocked tone, “Evie? ‘At you?”

“Lower your gun and let me turn around and you’ll find out, meathead.” I retorted, tapping a heavy sole against the pavement and shivering at the chill in the air. He lowered the gun as I asked and I turned around, coming face to face with him.

Given what my brother told me before I went my seperate way from his little group, I had a lot of understandable concerns. So the first thing I did was to pull out my Bowie knife and hold it at his throat. He swallowed hard, eyeing me in confusion. “What th’ fuck?”

“Well, you’re alive when Rick saw you die with his own two eyes. Carl told me he shot you to make sure you didn’t come back. So... Until I know you’re not going batshit feral on me and attempting to eat my brains, I’m gonna have to keep this right here. You understand, yeah?”

“Evie, put the goddamn knife down. Carl didn’t finish me off, first of all. He tried but he couldn’t. I told ‘im to tell everybody that. Left and went my own way. Been stayin here, “ he swept his arm towards a particularly creepy clown mouth shaped entrance to a nearby funhouse and met my gaze to continue, “Since. Thangs were goin swell. Til you bought the fuckin Walkers right to my gate.”

He rolled his eyes in irritation and I fumed at him angrily. As I considered the story he presented, I held the knife exactly where I’d put it. A smirk formed as he suggested with a smug tone, “What, you want me to strip down and show ya I ain’t one of ‘em? Because darlin, I wouldn’t mind that one bit.”

“Oh I bet you wouldn’t, you colossal ass... But we have bigger problems right now. I wasn’t just running from those undead shitbags outside... I may or may not have pissed off that Negan guy you mentioned. I may or may not have set fire to some shit... Stolen some things. And he may or may not have been chasin me.”

“Woman, what the everlovin fuck?”

“Look. I went there, determined to get my goddamn revenge, okay? He... He killed someone I... I really cared about them. Then all that shit with my brother and his people and Negan.”

Headlights cut through the darkened night and I grumbled. I could hear Negan’s boys whooping and hollering and I gulped, taking a deep breath. “I’m gonna lower the knife. But if I even think you’re one of those zombies, Walsh, I swear to God. I’ll kill you in your sleep and I won’t think twice.”

“Fair enough... Guessin this ain’t because you’re feelin generous.”

“No. We’re about to be up to our asses in hillbilly dumb fucks. I can’t take ‘em alone.” I hated admitting I needed his help for anything, it left a sour taste in my mouth. 

And his smug smirk didn’t help at all, either.

“First ‘f all, let’s get to higher ground. There’s a control tower back around where you came crashin over the fence at. If we get higher, we can see ‘em. And all my guns and shit are up top.”

I nodded and I didn’t waste any time, crouching amongst the tents. I passed the battered bumper cars attraction and I froze in place when I heard the shuffle-groan-shuffle heading our way. My heart started to race and my stomach jumped clear into my throat. I couldn’t move, no matter how hard I tried to convince myself it was move or get my ass eaten alive. I could hear the trucks getting closer too and that didn’t help. Gunfire was starting to fill the night. This was not a good situation, not by any stretch.

Shane ran up, grabbing me up by my hips, hauling me over his shoulders just as Negan’s vehicle came crashing through the back gate.

“Woman, you brought more trouble than y’ might be worth, y’ know that?”

“Less bitching, Walsh.. More getting us to higher ground.” I muttered as Shane stood me on my own feet and I scrambled up the stairs leading to a control tower. Once we were inside, Shane threw a heavy machine in front of the door and knelt down, loading up his Mossberg.

And outside, the shuffling and groaning got closer. The sounds of revving engines and the sound of bullets echoed through the night.

All I know is I’m not getting a good feeling about tonight, not even slightly.....

[artificialqueens]

The Land Of The Midnight Sun - Shalaska - pureCAMP

A/N - Not particularly festive, but sometimes it’s cathartic to write a sad, but ultimately happy “we’re going to be okay” moment, and so I did. Shorter than I would normally like, but it’s the holiday season so you have to be nice. Here’s my little gift to you xx

Sharon had more regrets than she had adult teeth. The balls of her feet ached, throbbing with blisters from her ceaseless walking. Nettles had been stinging her exposed ankles for the past few miles, and the pain had graduated from irritating to numbing to agonising over time. She smelt bad, looked worse, and was beginning to wonder if she had turned invisible.

  Cars passed without so much as a glance towards her outstretched hand. If anything, they probably saw her haggard appearance and sped up, trying to get away from her as quickly as they could. It wasn’t like she could do anything to them, anyway. She walked empty-handed, her stomach growling, a packet of smokes and a lighter in her pocket as her only belongings. No wonder they assumed she was some kind of runaway junkie murderer, hoping to be picked up and driven off into a nightmare.

  They weren’t far from the truth, but Sharon had no intentions of killing anyone.

  It was a weird time of night, and Sharon didn’t feel sure that she was still alive. As she walked, endlessly walking on a road to nowhere, she studied her hands with a scholarly focus. They were veiny, pale, grimy. Dirt beneath her fingernails. Scratched up. The sky was mauve and the world looked like a bleak 70s horror movie, unusually coloured, unusually silent. Never serene, just unsettling.

  Against the unchanging background of the countryside, the gas station lights seemed too jarring, too bright. Sharon headed towards them, light-headed and thoughtless. Gas stations meant food, water and smokes. Given her lack of money, they could also mean police. In that case, gas stations meant a car, somewhere to spend the night, and civilisation again. It was a win-win.

  Sharon had been walking for so long. It might have been 7pm or 2am. She had no idea what day it was, or the month. She wasn’t even entirely sure of her own name.

  There was an old hunk of junk car hastily parked up beside a pump as Sharon approached. It was dented, a foul peachy-vomit colour, with huge silver scrapes along the rear doors. The thing looked like it had been pulled from the 60s and driven straight into a wall. But it was a car. The driver was busily filling it up.

  The less witnesses, the better, Sharon knew. To her surprise, the door above the small shop didn’t have a telltale bell on it, and given that her location was in the middle of nowhere, the cashier likely didn’t expect customers. Good, because they wouldn’t be getting any. Sharon was a thief.

  She didn’t need much; a few granola bars and an extra packet of smokes slipped into her pocket and then she was done. Funny how when it came to the middle of nowhere, the laws seemed to slip away and melt. Cigarettes should’ve been behind the counter, not lined up in shiny silver rows for Sharon to take as she pleased. She would call herself lucky if it wasn’t such an exaggeration. Being a runaway was fun.

  As she stepped outside, the driver of the shitty old car had stopped pumping gas. She was stood on the other side of her car, kicking the side of it as hard as she could and screaming obscenities.

  “A golf club would do more damage. Or a baseball bat.” Sharon told her, slowly coming closer.

  The driver stopped kicking and looked up, surprised that she’d been caught. Her eyes were warm green, like grass in midsummer. It was a refreshing change from the maudlin sepia tones of the fields Sharon had been trudging alongside.

  “I don’t have either of those.” She responded. Her eyelashes were long, and she smiled prettily as she spoke. Nobody had smiled at Sharon for a long time.

  “Me neither.”

  Sharon wasn’t sure what it was, but it seemed as though a flicker of trust appeared in the driver’s eyes. She was clean and seemed outwardly normal, but Sharon knew she was damaged too. Not a soul who was so far into the land of the midnight sun wasn’t a dented can, damaged goods, a runaway or a no-hoper or a useless junkie. This woman had seen battles, like Sharon. She appeared to think the same thing.

  “I put the wrong gas into this stupid thing.” She kicked the car again for good measure. “I can’t call anyone for help because I stole it from my step-dad, and it’s a missing vehicle. But now it won’t drive.”

  Sharon nodded. “No license plate. You’re smart. Not that there’s anyone around here except us.”

  “You’re right.” The driver agreed. “Help me siphon this out and I’ll refuel and give you a ride. Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  Weirder things had happened. Sharon, on her knees, in a gas station, accompanied by a pretty blonde; in times not too far in the past, yet a million miles away, she had earned herself a modest few dollars in such situations. Only this wouldn’t earn Sharon a penny - just oily, grimier hands and a sense of surreal camaraderie with this stranger. The world around them just stood still, as Sharon and a stranger somehow emptied the tank together as though they had been a team for their entire lives.

  In a way, they had. Sharon saw the hard glint in the driver’s eyes, the firm line of her jaw, her outward strength and resolution. The small patch on her jacket, clearly ripped and frayed from someone’s fit of anger, showing half of what she was sure had once been two interlocking Venus symbols. Whoever she was, she was running away for the same reasons as Sharon. To free herself. 

  They were strangers, and had no reason to trust one another. For all Sharon knew, once they were done, the driver would fuel her shitty car correctly and speed off into the horizon, disappear at the point of no return and fall off the edge of the earth, leaving Sharon in her dust. She would fade away into nothing, in the middle of nowhere, leaving Sharon to question her sanity as well as herself. 

  But she didn’t.

  With a wry smile, the blonde finished refuelling her car and offered Sharon a filthy rag to help clean her hands. Then, after a moment, she opened the passenger door.

  “Get in. I don’t think I’m gonna pay for this one.”

  -

  The luxury of sitting was a pleasure Sharon had almost forgotten. Her feet still throbbed, her shoes sticky with what she was sure was her own blood, but she could finally rest, nestled in amongst magazines and empty cups and discarded wrappers. Around them, the mauve of the sky had faded into a darker, duller purplish-grey, devoid of stars, as bleak and lifeless as the dead cornfields that rolled past the windows on an endless loop. Their soundtrack was radio static, occasionally interspersed with a soothing guitar twang.

  “Who are you?”

  Sharon tried to remember who she was. It was a loaded question, really. Who was she? An innocent young girl - no, not for a long time. A dented can, yes. Damaged goods. A jaded, scarred, exhausted girl, separate from the world, freakish and unwanted and strange. She was a lesbian, a punk, someone’s lost sister, someone’s estranged daughter. She was so many things, and she had no idea who she was anymore. She was a zombie, who had walked miles into the land of the midnight sun and now found herself gazing up at the harvest moon.

  “My name is Sharon.”

  The driver’s voice was unique, and Sharon liked it. “I’m Alaska. Where are you going?”

  The land where the sun doesn’t set. The land where phones won’t take calls. The land of the midnight sun. The land of nothing.

  “Somewhere that no one can ever reach me again.”

  Alaska smiled a second time, pretty still in the diminishing light. “Me too. We can find it together.”

  Her face was so beautiful, smooth white skin and long dark eyelashes and an elegant curvature to every single one of her bones. It was marred only by a bruise on her cheek, which Sharon gazed at unabashedly. Even her bruises were perfect, vividly purple, the only bit of colour in Sharon’s world.

  “Who did that to you?” She asked, too exhausted to bother with propriety and tact. “Walked into a door? A lamppost?”

  She chuckled without mirth, but she seemed unoffended. “Stepdad. Caught me with a girl in my room, starting beating the living shit out of us both. You know what they say.” She paused, her voice taking on a tone of bittersweet sarcasm. “You should’ve seen the other guy.”

  Sharon didn’t offer sympathy. She knew her flowery words would bounce off of Alaska’s armour and thickened skin at this point. There was no sense in offering meaningless comfort to this harrowed stranger. Alaska had been hurt. Sharon knew exactly what she meant.

  “Yeah.” Sharon pushed her sleeve up, her fingers tracing the cross-shaped red scar that stretched from her wrist to the middle of her forearm. “I understand. Made the mistake of coming out in a religious town that already thought I had a demon inside me. Got sick of the exorcisms and white-hot crucifixes, so I left a note and got out of there. I’m hoping they assume I’ve committed suicide and don’t come looking for my body. I left without a trace.”

  “Amen to that, sister.” Alaska bit her lip. The words hung heavy in the dead night air. “Or not.”

  Things seemed dark, morose, grim. Yet - and Sharon was sure Alaska could feel it too - there was a pull, a light switch, a sudden shift in the universe, a change in the wind. Everything had been so bad. But things were going to improve. Running away had felt like cowardice, and giving up, and losing the fight. Running away had been an end, and ever since then the world had felt weird, off-kilter, faded. But this was a beginning, and starting with Alaska’s mesmerising green eyes, the colour was going to return.

  Life wouldn’t be bleak forever.

  “We can stop and camp tonight, if you want.” Alaska suggested. “I have an old tent bundled up in the trunk, and I’m tired of creepy lay-bys at the side of the road. Might be nice to pitch up and light a fire for the night.”

  Sharon smiled. It felt so good to smile, after everything. Despite the dark, Alaska carried an infectious lightness within her that seemed to be spreading. “Well, it’s not like we’ll struggle to find somewhere flat enough to sleep. There’s nothing out here.”

  “Right.” Alaska giggled. “We got an abundance of nothing out here. How spoiled are we?”

  “Practically royal,” Sharon laughed, her voice rasping slightly as she slipped into quiet, jokey song. “I’ve got plenty of nothing, and nothing is plenty for me…”

  It was almost completely black when Alaska came to a stop and started to pull out the tent, deciding they had travelled far enough. It could’ve been twenty miles or two hundred miles later, Sharon wasn’t quite sure. All she knew was that Alaska was enchanting and even though every single fibre of her aching body was screaming for sleep, she would happily defy her own needs if it meant she could look at Alaska for a little longer.

  With only the help of Alaska’s headlights, they managed to assemble a somewhat pitiful tent. Nonetheless, it was a shelter, and Alaska’s assortment of random jackets, blankets and shirts made a pretty decent mattress in the grand scheme of things. 

  “Wait here,” Alaska grinned, her mood heightened by their small success. “You’re gonna love this.”

  She stepped away from their camp and reached into her trunk, pulling out two bags and then slamming it shut. As she came closer, Sharon grew confused.

  “Wood?”

  “For the fire.” She shook her head. “That’s not the exciting part. This is the exciting part.”

  She held up the smaller bag, turning slightly so that the headlights of her car could illuminate the packaging inside. Through the thin plastic, Sharon could make out a bottle of red wine and a bag of marshmallows. 

  “We get to wine and dine?” Sharon asked, only half kidding. “God… I wish I’d found you sooner.”

  She was so beautiful. Her smile alone could battle the warmth of a thousand roadside fires.

  “You have a lighter, right?” She asked, then laughed as Sharon rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Go light the fire, I’m gonna open these up. This is our late-night dinner, like it or not.”

  As she flicked her lighter again and again on the wood, soothed by the hypnotic dance of the flames, Sharon sighed dramatically. “Not. Marshmallows are gross, they’re all sugar. It’s like eating a diabetic cloud.”

  Alaska laughed appreciatively. “I can’t deny that…” She let the words linger, her accented drawl becoming more and more charming. “But hey. This is just… one of those serendipitous moments in life where two strangers who share a common denominator can sit together and roast marshmallows over an open flame and talk about their lives. I think there’s beauty in that, somewhere.”

  It was so difficult not to tell Alaska that she was the reason Sharon could see beauty again. She held her tongue and reached for a marshmallow, skewering it on a stick and settling herself down. The two of them nestled in the entrance of the tent, their knees hugged to their chests, reaching towards the fire to warm them and melt their marshmallows at the same time. With the headlights off, there was nothing but the firelight to wash over them.

  “I wanna know happier things. Things we can both relate to. Something that can connect two girls who love girls who are lost in the land of the midnight sun with no intention of ever going back.” Alaska’s voice was dreamy, slow. Sharon was sure she wasn’t real. She was too perfect to be real, more like a hallucination than a person, and yet she was living and breathing and soft to the touch.

  They were holding hands, toasting marshmallows with the other. 

  “How about… girls?” Sharon suggested, with a quiet laugh. “You have a type?”

  Their voices were low, like it was a secret. Alaska spoke louder, breaking the secrecy of it all. They didn’t need to be secretive anymore. They were safe.

  “Any girl who looks at me twice, really,” She giggled. “I’m kidding. I don’t think I have a type, I wouldn’t know. Just… pretty girls, I guess.”

  Sharon pretended to pout as she brought the roasted marshmallow to her lips, but it was hard. “Oh, shame. I haven’t stopped looking at you, so it only counts as looking once, right?”

  “Look away,” Alaska instructed her, the smile evident in the tone of her voice. “Then look back.”

  “And then what?” Sharon teased, studying Alaska in the firelight. It softened her features, made her look gentler and sweeter and less damaged. Her sweet soul could shine right through her pain, and Sharon knew it. They were healing. “You’ll kiss me?”

  There was no answer.

  Sharon could smell burning marshmallows and fresh night air. She could hear the flame crackling, and feel the warmth of the fire. She could see stars, and skin, and constellations of freckles. She could taste Alaska’s lips on hers, breathing new life into her body, awakening sparks from embers she thought had long died out. She was reborn, renewed, rejuvenated. Alaska tasted sugary sweet, like marshmallows, her lips soft and welcoming and full of promise. 

  They were okay.

[praphit]

Extraction: The Day Sexy Violence Wasn’t Enough

I was hearing a lot of chatter about Thor's new joint - "Extraction".

I originally wasn't interested, because... well...

I look at the rest of The Avengers, right after "Endgame" -

Capt hung out with real thespians in "Knives Out",

 and now on his way to make a real dramatic mark.

(idk what Jacob did... something he ain’t have no business doing, by the look of his eyes, but Capt has got him)

Black Widow - made us feel with "Marriage Story" 

Iron-Man did a movie for the kids... I think... or this is just a typical weekend for RDJ.

However, Thor said "Give me a bunch of guns and send me away to shoot brown people."

You're better than that, Thor! Plus, I don't really want Chris Hemsworth serious. But, like I said - CHATTER. So, I'm onboard!

Plus, perhaps the best thing for us, in the midst of this pandemic, is to stay inside with sexy ass Chris Hemsworth, and watch a dumb action movie. I don't need nothing deep. I don't want to think right now. Just give us sexiness and killing.

Thor wanted to get as far away from Disney/Marvel as he could. From start to finish, he's looking for somebody to kill.

I guess he also kinda looks like he’s looking for the bathroom. I mean, he’s going to kill people on the way there, but he’s looking... and he doesn’t know if he’s going to make it.

It did take a lil work before they could shoot the movie though, so I’ll rewind a sec. The last time that we saw him, he looked like this.

He had to hit the gym, switch to some light beer (Workout Note: You can't cut beer completed; that's something that crazy people do. You also can't completely cut out pizza. I know they say you've gotta cut breads out, but... that's fake news). Some weights, some squats, half a pizza (instead of a whole), and some light beer. And if you're still not getting the results you want - get lots of money, go to the doctor and the stylist, and you too can look like this - 

I believe that we were all created by God, but some were made on a budget, and others look like Chris Hemsworth.

Now, we're ready!

The plot of this movie is simple. A kid gets kidnapped, and Chris Hemsworth needs to save the day.

That's it.

Chris plays Tyler Rake , who's family was tragically taken from him. You can't get much more generic action hero than that.

We find Tyler jumping off cliffs into the depths of the waters for fun/cuz he's a lil suicidal, and sitting down at the bottom to meditate (even at the bottom of the water, his hair looks amazing). 

From the get-go, you know that Tyler Rake is a bit off.

This mold of generic action hero (we'll say "action star", I think after a certain body count, one can't be considered a "hero" anymore) will be keeping liquor stores in business 

(another workout note: unless you've been engineered by the gods as Chris has, don't try working out on a whiskey diet - it won't end well for you)

, having teammates look at him as if he needs help (which he does), and bad guys aren't going to stand a chance. He has lost his family, and decided he's going to be crazy for the rest of his life.

This movie is in the hands of the Russo brothers (directed "Infinity War/Endgame"). They both brought some depth to the Marvel Universe. Fleshed-out Thanos. Made us get in our feelings.

They said "F that! We're just going to shoot people!"

And that's all that this movie is. I'd tell you more, but there's not much more to tell. Ever meet someone who, for better or worse, they are their career? - that's this movie. It's Tyler Rake killing people... lots of people, to save one kid... whom he just met.

Sometimes, they tried to go a lil deeper. There's a moment when the kid (the kid has a name, but no one in the movie bothered to learn it, so why should I?) starts asking Tyler about his family. Chris is crying his ass off, and the boy keeps asking him questions. Can't you see this man is hurting?! Ya jerk! In this moment, I should have felt something for Chris, but I didn't. I think I got up to get something to eat (maybe I'M the jerk). But, that kinda stuff isn't this movie's strong suit. Let's keep it moving!

Back to bullets, knife fights, rockets, people getting hit by vehicles, and blood spray!

As for that kid - parents teach your children how to run. This kid's form was terrible! Every time that he ran, he frustrated me. Chris would shout "Stay low! Stay behind me!" Nope. He couldn't seem to get that right. Plus, he's so lanky. You gonna get Chris killed, sonn!

I guess this is a decent pandemic movie. A good movie to make-out to... if you don't mind screams of dismemberment in the background. Whatever floats your boat. Like I said, the action and gun play in this movie is right on; if that doesn't get your juices flowing, Chris Hemsworth will:) His prettiness def saves the movie a lil bit. 

Whenever he got into a fight, I felt the need to shout "Not the face!" 

When he was close to fire "Chris, your hair!"

Grade: As good as the action is, something is missing in this movie. David Harbour is in this, and he's great, but not in it enough.

There's a guy that matches Chris's skills, who's really good at action, but he doesn't say all that much.

There's a woman in here who matches Chris's prettiness,

but she's just there to tell Tyler that he's gone too far, and to shoot a rocket (which is bad ass though).

I don't think that this movie is "dumb" enough. It's def not smart, but... it doesn't go enough in any direction, and it takes itself just a lil bit too seriously. It's kinda missing a soul.

I can't say enough about some of these slick action scenes, but at the same time, it felt like I was watching a really good "Call of Duty" game starring Chris Hemsworth. 

I could have just played COD and hung a pic of Chris above my Tv.

I give it an unfortunate C-

There are prob some military fanatics that will enjoy it more than I did. 

"Dude, did you see that blah blah blah 17 with the blah blah... clip... latch?"

"Yeah, bro, that blah blah blah was awesome... blah blah blah."

But, I need a lil bit more, personally.

Though I guess it's still a good make-out movie. Although, I would have had to stop periodically.

*kisses* "Baby, stop a sec. See, that was a perfect opportunity to build some character... to make me care about what's going on. The praphit needs connection."

*kisses* "Wait, wait... Chris has a close-up."

*attempted kisses* "Not when he has a close-up, ok??! We talked about this!"

I had higher hopes, but... still decent.

Ok, so SPOILER ALERT

2 things:

1) There's a villain in here (I didn't mention him, cuz they didn't do much with him). The pretty woman that I mentioned sneaks into the bathroom where the villain is. The villain is finishing up peeing at the urinal, and next to him is the pretty woman, who shoots him in the head.

I wonder though... was she there peeing at the urinal? - like... does she have something going on down there?

2) Tyler Rake dies... or does he?

The kid survives, and is at the bottom of a pool, meditating like his "hero". When he comes up for air, he sees a blurred image that looks a lot like Tyler Rake.

Possibilites:

a) Maybe he gets adopted by someone who looks like Chris Hemsworth (as if)...or who got surgery to look like him.

b) It's one of the other Hemsworths who adopted him.

Kid: "Were you the one who was with Miley Cyrus? Yeah, that's pass for me. I can't have a guardian with such poor judgment."

c) The kid is crazy

d) Ghost Rake! Yes!

e) Tyler is alive! And he was resurrected by witches.

Regardless, I'd be up for a sequel. I'm rooting for "Ghost Rake" and something going on down there with the pretty woman.

[wolf-555-writer]

Target On My Back

Hope you guys like this!  

Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow x Reader

Summary: Takes place before Natasha joined SHIELD and Avengers, hence the name Natalia Romanova instead of Natasha Romanoff. Reader is an Agent at SHIELD.

Word Count: 2,676

Casually walking on the sturdy pavement with a relaxed pace like there’s no worry in the world. A strand of her red hair playfully swings back due to a man in a cheap suit rushing by her, probably too late for his boring appointment. She simply continues her path with a calm and friendly look in her beautiful, sparkling green eyes. A ray of sunlight manages to break through the tall skyscrapers and shines on her face, causing her to close her eyes for a moment while a subtle smile of enjoyment emerges. Reaching the end of the block, she makes a sharp turn around the corner, passing a hipster coffee place that’s likely filled with freelancers and their laptops. She’s in casual attire, wearing skinny denim jeans and a black leather jacket that’s unfastened with a basic black t-shirt underneath. Losing sight of her for only a second as a large garbage truck drove by. It has become quiet on this part of the street, no other persons or cars around, it’s just her, Natalia Romanova.  

“I’ve got a clear shot. Permission to take out the target, Coulson?”, you affirm, staring through the riflescope, fully concentrated and locked on. How can this woman be so deadly? You wonder, considering you followed her for a while, patiently waiting on this rooftop for the perfect opportunity to arise. You’ve taken a good look at her. She seems so innocent and doesn’t look like a cold-blooded killer at all. You’ve read and studied the files, seen her pictures- well, the limited amount thereof, because there’s not much information about the Russian spy. It’s mostly a lot of speculation about her involvement in a significant amount of cases, but has never been proven.

“Confirmed Agent (Y/L/N). Take the shot”, you receive back. Seeing her in real life makes it different though. It shouldn’t, you know that, but you can’t help it. Doubts have flooded your mind, is this really the Black Widow? However, you got your orders and cannot ignore them. Actually, you never would, ‘cause there’s nothing and no one else you’re more loyal to than SHIELD.

Quickly snapping out of your thoughts, can’t get distracted now. Your finger is on the trigger, ready to pull and you squint your eye a little more to get a better visual through the scope.

“Wait… What the hell!?”, you shout out unwittingly. Shocked, yet still actively in shooting position with your fingertip fairly pressed against the trigger. “H-how did she-”. 

A pair of green eyes are staring right at you from afar and a provoking wink with a matching grin shows up on her face. But only for a brief moment since Natalia already started running towards a more crowded area on the sidewalk, where she skillfully evades innocent pedestrians. You almost had her, almost…

“My position is compromised, I’m going in pursuit!”, you state while jumping up from the stake-out post. In a moment of not clear thinking and haste, you leave the sniper rifle behind and sprint towards the fire escape at the corner of the rooftop.

“No Agent (Y/L/N)! Stand down!”, Agent Coulson orders through the comm with a loud and authoritative tone. You ignore him blindly, ‘cause you are the closest one and probably SHIELD’s last chance of catching her this time. ...Right? Well, that’s what you told yourself anyway.

Sliding down the rusty staircase as fast as you can so that you won’t lose her. Once back on solid ground, you hop on your bike parked nearby and put on the helmet. Okay, once in a while you do ignore a direct order, but it’s for the greater good, for SHIELD, for… um, yeah, the exact reason is not that important at the moment. You tighten your grip on the handlebars and accelerate as you speed out of the narrow alley. Beating yourself up for getting distracted back there, you can’t fail this assignment, because you never fail. So this sure as hell ain’t gonna be the first slip-up of yours. Gotta keep your head in the game. 

Turning a sharp right, you end up on the road and immediately notice a covert SHIELD SUV in your side view mirror. I guess not so covert after all. Your attention is quickly shifted towards a woman up ahead, also on a bike, passing an intersection and driving through a red light at full speed.

The results of her little stunt are the least of your problems right now, however the situation could have been better… Multiple collisions, smoke formation under the hoods and honking cars with angry drivers inside, loudly cursing while making offending gestures to one another. The road is blocked and a traffic jam is preventing you from continuing the chase. It’s a total mess and Black Widow got away. There's no other option. You rapidly steer to the right and bulldoze over the sidewalk tiles, almost hitting an innocent bystander who dove aside just in time. The adrenaline is now rushing through your veins, it's a feeling you haven’t felt in a while. Though it has become so addictive that you're always craving more. Back on the road again, you proceed with the hunt and enter the busy highway. The black, armored SUV is gone now that you don't notice your fellow agents anymore, probably forced to take another route. 

Highly focused on safely passing the cars, you use dangerous maneuvers, switching your weight from left to right. You're on her tail, but it takes a lot of effort to keep up. She's fast… really fast. And she knows that too, because there hasn't been a single moment she looked back over her shoulder. Or is she always looking over her shoulder? Anyways, you can't keep this up for long, so you have to find a way to stop her. Grabbing the Glock from the holster on your upper leg, you aim precisely and fire. The bullet pierces through the thick rubber back tire. Natalia doesn't even flinch and immediately reacts when hearing the gunshot. 

She hits the brakes powerfully, a trail of smoke behind her, and pushes herself off of the leather bike seat. She shoots high up in the air, only to make a perfect backflip and lands on both feet right after. Meanwhile the motorcycle has tilted on its side and the metal body scrapes over the asphalt, making an awful, high-pitched sound while leaving dark paint marks on the road. 

After putting the handgun back fast, sight partially blinded by the smoke, you instantly hit the brakes too and stop. Opening the helmet cap and using your left foot to push down the kickstand. “Coulson, I've captured the target. My position-”. Before you could even finish that sentence Natalia already ran towards the concrete edge, slid over the hood of a stopped car first, and jumped from the bridge. “What the fu- Again!?”.

“Copy. What is your position Agent (Y/L/N)?”, you hear back, a voice much calmer and not as loud as before. “Um… 4 kilometers south of the primary location”, you reply a bit unsettled, not sure about the state Romanova’s in, because -let’s be realistic- she just flew off a bridge...

“We’re 8 minutes out. Suspect is secure? In custody?”

“... No, um, not really… But I'm close. Well, kind of”, you mumble as you dashed to the edge and watch her on the road below, apparently all alive and well. “I still got a visual”, you declare, starting the engine again and closing the helmet visor as you’d run back to your motorcycle. First, you need to exit the highway. The closest one was a couple of hundred meters back, so you make a 180 with skidding tires and go against traffic. Always choose the shortest route, which is possibly also the most dangerous one. You gotta hand it to her, she has got a serious amount of determination and doesn’t get caught easily. Something you weirdly start to admire about her. She’s also not getting rid of you that easily though, 'cause you’re not done yet either.  

“Can I expect a report back? Hello?!”. Judging by the tone in your ear, you apparently missed his question the first time, or the second time? Maybe even the third, you don’t know. She's seriously messing with your head, in more ways than you dare to admit. “I’ll report back when I have her detained”, you assert while driving head-on towards oncoming traffic that you bypass with ease.

Once you safely exited the highway, you race towards a dark alleyway between some abandoned and degraded buildings where you last saw Black Widow. The headlight on your bike makes it possible to spot Natalia fleeing in the distance. She’s still on foot, which is a disadvantage for her as she’s way more slower than you are. Eventually you have her boxed in. A high fence with barbed wire on top is preventing her from continuing her course. You give a short update about your current location to Coulson as a precaution before coming to a halt with screeching tires. Rapidly jumping off the vehicle while you grab your gun.

“Stop! There’s nowhere else to run!” 

She slowly puts her hands up at the sound of a click, knowing the Glock’s safety is off. Knowing that you’re ready to pull the trigger. 

She turned around, now face to face, and you stare into her eyes, still with the gun pointed at her. “The previous SHIELD Agents would have already given up by now”, she says with a calm voice, “but not you”, while she checks you out from head to toe.

“Aw, I'm not your first?”, you taunt back, in a more relaxed state since you've finally completed your assignment. Third time’s a charm, right? A grin appears on her face. “You're cute”. Without breaking eye contact you reach for the handcuffs on your belt, you can’t let her distract you. Not again. 

In a flash of a second she kicks something your way. Don’t know what it is but it gets you startled as it grazes your forehead. Before you even know it she’s in front of you and slams the gun out of your hand. Trying to follow its trajectory with your eyes to see where the gun drops, but your field of vision doesn’t let you because Natalia has grabbed your extended arm and throws you over her shoulder onto the dirty ground. It’s an unpleasant landing but you quickly push yourself off and stand up again, only to catch her leg mid-air with both hands since she wanted to land a brutal kick to your left side. This doesn’t stop her though. She hooks onto your shoulders with her hands and pushes herself off to swing her other leg around your head. Both her legs are wrapped around your neck tightly, her thighs are choking you now that you can’t breathe anymore. You want to free yourself from her strong grip and swing your arms about but lose balance. Due to the weight, you fall backwards and touch down on the hard ground again. The restriction around your neck disappears. Gasping for air you get up once more and your jaw meets with Natalia’s fist. You luckily counteract the next punch and slip and block while retaliating with a fast, but powerful left hook. Directly after you pivot and want to do a roundhouse kick, but she smoothly ducks down and sweeps you off your feet instead.

“You ready to give up?”. She’s even letting her guard down. Now she’s just drawing you out and taunting with you. You look up at her and scoff. “I got this completely under control, okay”, wiping the blood from the corner of your mouth. There are drops of sweat on your forehead and your breathing frequency is faster than usual. Natalia is a worthy opponent. It’s a challenge, something you haven’t had in a while as most of your missions are routine jobs and have become boring. You’ve missed this, it feels so good. Your heart rate is rising and you get that surge of adrenaline once more.       

Natalia blows a strand of red hair away. “Oh, okay. You sure about that?”, she answers with a light chuckle and moves one eyebrow up. 

You get up from the ground, once again. Sensing some painful, nagging spots scattered all over your body, but you suppress it, ignore the aching parts, and defensively put your hands up high to protect your upper body and face.  

“Yeah, I’m totally sure about th-”. Barely able to finish that sentence, you get floored again by Natalia. She has used her legs to grab your neck and moves you downwards. With a great impact you end up on the asphalt, head first and flat on your stomach. Natalia has got you pinned down while she’s forcing you in this position with her knees buried in your back. Not the most comfortable situation you’ve been in... 

You move your head to the side and let out a deep groan. A bit disoriented due to the smack on your head, but suddenly, hidden in between some pieces of trash nearby, you notice your handgun. Without hesitation you grab it and roll onto your back with all the strength left to hold her at gunpoint. Natalia backs away and puts her hands behind her head. 

“I've got her Coulson”, you state, speaking through your comm while you painfully stand up. “Coulson?”. Still pointing your gun at Natalia. “Are you there?”

“You lost this?”, she taunts, now opening her left hand which she’s moved from behind her head. It's your earpiece. “Wait, how did you-”. With a puzzled look you glare at her. How did she do that? You have to admit, you’re kind of amazed by her skills. The way she fights and moves, it’s impressive. She’s impressive. 

Although, it pisses you off that you keep losing.

“So…”, she drops the communication device on the ground and crushes it with the ball of her foot, “it's just you and me now”  

“Yeah, I guess so…”. You’re out of words since you don’t know what to say next and deeply stare into her intense, fiery green eyes. There's something holding you back. She could have killed you, several times already to be fair, but she didn’t. It’s like a game. A game you seem to enjoy very much. Still aiming the handgun at her, yet it’s like you’re in a frozen state. What should you do? Take her in and complete the assignment, keeping a spotless record, which actually doesn’t seem that important anymore. 

...Or let her go. So that there will be a chance of seeing her again, hopefully in the near future. No, I can’t… My loyalty is with SHIELD, you keep repeating in your mind. Convincing yourself. Or better said, trying to convince yourself. Is it working?

Slowly lowering the gun and turning your head away as you gaze at the ground. “You don’t have much time before the other Agents are here. Go. Now”, you suggest with a low, hoarse voice. Natalia doesn’t need to think twice and takes this opportunity for granted as she jumps on your motorcycle. It feels as if you’re not in control of your own actions anymore. What are you doing?! Realizing you let your target escape, willingly, and on top of that, on your bike. How will you explain this? 

There’s something about her… something that makes her special, that makes this all worth it somehow. No regrets at all. She’ll still have a target on her back though, because SHIELD will not stop. But as of now you got one too. You watch her put your helmet on and she winks at you again, with that same signature grin too. Before closing the visor and driving away full throttle, she locks eyes with you one last time and softly speaks:

“Till next time, Agent (Y/L/N)”   

PART 2

[heavenbarnes]

ohh val in the 'my other ride is your wife' makes me think about being a deprived housewife forced to marry a man i have no interest in who cheats on me every other day and my only happiness is my best friend val and one day she asks if my husband has ever even made me cum and i shake my head sadly and she shows me the fucking time of my life

oh my fucking god, this is going to be very AU, very dramatic so don’t take life too serious x (it is also way longer than i expected)

“I know you’re not happy, my peach.” Val spoke, her soft voice cradled by the crackle of your fire place.

You frowned into your wine glass, swirling it silently as you looked into your best gal’s eyes. She was right, you were many things in life but happy was not one of them. You really only seemed to be happy in these moments.

The moments your best friend stood on your doorstep, bottle in hand with a knowing look. You let out a defeated sigh, looking to her with the eyes of a young puppy. You looked for guidance? For sympathy? You looked for help.

She reached out and took your hand, walking you to the french doors on the side of your penthouse apartment. You both walked onto the balcony, night air whipping a cool chill across your body. Val slung her arm around your shoulders and pulled you in tight.

“You’re so young, you don’t deserve to be made to feel this way.”

“But, I just-”

“No excuses, (Y/N). I’ve known you the longest time and if I know anything about you, you were born to run and this is standing still.”

You hid your face in her shoulder, knowing she was right. You used to be such a bright spark until you married Elijah. He had managed to drain all of your light, taken it all for himself and handed it out generously to the other women of this town. Val simply wanted to light that spark back inside of you, any way that she could.

“I’m just so scared of disappointing my family, I feel like if I leave him I’m failing.” You finally let a tear escape from your eyes, Val quick to catch it with the sleeve of her sweater.

“Nothing you do could disappoint them, they’ll be proud you aren’t lying any longer.”

You looked into those beautiful eyes, so round and doe like. Her button nose, the clean slope of your jaw. Your confidante without complaint. You slowly nodded your head, allowing yourself to believe what she was saying. Allowing yourself to shake off the the shame.

You looked to your left hand, touching the pear shaped diamond with your fingers. That ring alone cost more than your childhood home, and it was the polar-opposite of that place. It did no such thing as represent family, love, warmth. It felt more like a weight, weighing you down to a place you didn’t want to be in.

You caught eyes with Val again, your mind ticking over. She could tell you were thinking and as she worked to find out what you were thinking of, you caught her by surprise. You slipped the ring off your finger and threw it straight over the edge. A hard throw, too. A throw that said “I am more powerful than people give me credit for.”

Watching it soar into the night, over the rooftops and into the nothingness. You hoped someone less fortunate found that, pawned that, got themselves a better start. You getting rid of it was getting you a better start. You turned to gingerly look at Val, afraid of what she might say but were met with that gorgeous grin.

“I personally would’ve pawned it, but I’m still proud as fuck.”

You giggled softly, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“I don’t want his money, I don’t want anything from him.”

“And that is the girl I know and lov-”

The front door opening inside caught you both by surprise. You nervously turned to Val, you were ready to throw your ring but maybe not tell him to his face you wanted to leave him. You were going to need baby steps. It was like your best friend knew your thoughts before you voiced them.

‘Baby steps are fine, Rome wasn’t built in a day.” She whispered as she followed you inside.

Just her mere presence was enough to make your nerves and stresses melt away. You stepped to your husband, already feeling yourself shrink smaller in his presence. The difference between the two.

“Evening, my dear,” He smiled towards you. “Valerie.”

“My name is Valkyrie.”

“Not a real name.”

“It’ll be real when I make your wife scream it.”

“Sorry?”

“It’s real even if you don’t see it.”

The two were always in a stand off. A woman who couldn’t stand a weak man that hurt her best friend. A man who couldn’t stand a strong woman that took better care of his wife than he. You stood nervously in the middle twirling your hands over themselves.

“Well I’m ready to go to bed, are you leaving Valerie?”

She let out a deep sigh but nodded none the less, turning to give you the tightest hug. She graced past Elijah, stepping back slightly as she did. The air created by her movements caused a waft of scent to rise from his clothes.

“Eliza, didn’t take you for one to wear Chanel No. 5 perfume?”

Your eyes shot up between the both of them, knowing good and well what Val was implying. You knew her implications were correct also, too tired to fight over it any longer. Your gaze on your husband was waiting to see how he lied his way out of this one.

“It’s Elijah, and I don’t wear it but my client does.”

Her finger extended and came up to swipe at the collar of his business shirt. He ducked away from her but she still studied her digit carefully.

“Client also wears plum lipstick?”

“You need to leave.”

You saw your best friend to the door, giving her another hug before she departed. As you closed the door she heard the curt exchange between the both of you.

“I don’t want to hear excuses, I wan’t to go to bed.”

“Fine, but I- (Y/N) where is your ring?”

“M-must have left it by the sink.”

A house built on lies.

“I cannot take you anywhere!” Val giggled, leaning forward to wipe the soft-serve off your lip.

You giggled too, pushing your sunglasses up your nose and taking another long lick of the treat. The sun beat down on the both of you, a spot on the park bench by the water. You watched other people, sometimes making up life stories for them to help forget about your own.

Val wasn’t too focused on the people today, she was watching you. The way your tongue wrapped around the ice cream, molding it into different shapes as you licked your way through it. She felt herself swallow thickly, trying to tear her eyes away.

You stayed watching the people of your neighborhood, joggers, mothers, friends. What was happening to them and did any of them know what was happening to you?

“Ooh, Val! What about them?” You asked, snapping her gaze away from your tongue in action.

She followed your nod towards two men, stood with a younger brunette woman. The girl and the taller man were smiling, but the other man had more of a grimace on his face which switched when his companions looked towards him. Val took a swipe of her ice cream before speaking.

“He’s in love with his best friend, can’t say it cause he knows it’ll ruin the already standing relationship,” Val said very matter-of-factly, as if she’d already asked them. “Plus, it’s harder when the significant other is right there.”

“How long do you think he’s been in love with her?”

“I’m not saying it is her that he’s been in love with.”

Your eyes widened and you looked at your best friend over your sunglasses. She gave you a knowing smirk which threw you into a fit of giggles.

“Valkyrie said ‘gay rights!’ didn’t she now!”

Val tipped her head back, arm extending along the back of the bench to pull you into her. She’d never admit it out loud but when you two were out, there were times she’d make certain movements, say certain things, just to have the passersby think “are they dating?”

“Do you think other people look at us and wonder about our life stories?” You asked nonchalantly, bringing the cone back to your mouth.

“And think, ‘wow they’re so beautiful and talented I bet they’re on their way to break hearts’, or something?”

You let out a hearty laugh at her humor, leaning harder into her and nodding. You could always count on Val to brighten your eyes, put the light back into you.

“Or do they say, ‘that one, she looks like she is in a relationship where her husband actively cheats on her despite him never making her come once’ yeah?”

Val spluttered, coughing at the melted ice cream that got caught on the back of her throat. You hid your giggle behind your own treat, licking it quietly as she calmed down. She gave you an incredulous gaze, asking if what you were claiming was true. You nodded slowly.

“(Y/N) why didn’t you tell me this was a state of emergency!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, even when you wanted to cry she would bring you the sunshine. She pushed her own sunglasses down before doing the same to yours so she could look you in the eye.

“You mean he has never once made you come?”

“No, it’s usually just over when he does which is usually quite quickly.”

“I mean, I don’t know why I’m acting surprised.”

You chuckled again, nodding along with all that she was saying. You’d been aching to tell someone what was going on. This had haunted you a long time and you just knew that if anyone would side with you, it’d be Val.

“Have you ever come since you got married?”

“Yeah, else I wouldn’t be alive!” You explained. “I just do my own DIY’s.”

Val nodded slowly, relieved expression across her face. That expression was hiding what she was feeling inside. Of course she was relieved, but there was also a hot coil twisting tight within her stomach. The thought of you having to get yourself off, knees up with head in the pillows.

“Earth to Val, you there?”

She shook her head looking back to you. She saw your phone in hand, a text from him asking you to get home. She let out a sigh, standing from the bench and ready to drive you back. These times never lasted long enough. Once you got to the car, she lent on door looking at you across the vehicle.

“Tomorrow, be ready by 10 in the morning cause I’m picking you up.”

“Ooh, what are we doing?”

“I don’t know, but I will by tomorrow.

You smiled, accepting it simply cause Val said it. She could tell you she’d lead you into the woods in the middle of the night and you’d go cause she was your person.

“Out again? It’d be nice to have a wife who spends time with her husband!”

“I’m home all the time ready to spend time with you, where are you at those moments?”

“In the office!”

“Whose office?”

He looked at you in shock, had the timid wife finally bitten back? He didn’t answer your question, just rolled his eyes and stuttered a bit. There were several offices that he’d frequented recently, too many to remember.

The knocking at the door broke you apart, you moving to answer but were pipped by Elijah. He swung the door open, not having a moment to invite Val in as she was already crossing the thresh-hold.

“Valerie.”

“Jeremiah.”

You ducked your head out the bedroom door, smiling towards your best friend. She beamed at your gaze, giving you a small smile.

“I won’t be a moment!” You called to her, darting back inside.

Elijah cast his gaze up and down Val, taking in her appearance. Her baggy top, tucked into cut-off denim shorts. That paired with the ratty vans and denim jacket, not to mention the backwards cap.

“You dress like a young man.”

“And I fuck like one too.”

“I’m sorry?”

“And what am I supposed to do?”

“Maybe wear something a little tidier?” He offered, hand extending to flick back her jacket. “Rather than a shirt that says “My Other Ride Is Your Wife”, I guess?”

She gave him a deadly smile, pulling her jacket back across and raising an eyebrow. She wasn’t afraid of him.

“And where is the fun in that?”

Your stepping into the room cut your husband off before he could fight back. You gave Val an even brighter smile, taking in her outfit.

“You look so cool!”

Elijah simply rolled his eyes as Val darted a daring grin at him. She said the same about you, taking in your button up sundress and platform sandals.

“Are you ready to go?” Val took her car keys from her pocket and grabbed your purse for you.

You smiled graciously and nodded, trotting to her. She extended her elbow for you to loop your arm into. This was always Val’s power move, being the gentleman your husband never was. She knew how you ought to be treated, and she’d treat you as such.

“When should I expect you home?” Elijah asked from the door way, watching you head towards Val’s car.

“Sometime in the near future, don’t worry!” Val finished for you, earning a giggle and a smack to the shoulder from you.

She held your door open for you, a hand ushering you in before walking around to her side. She tapped her fingers against the top of the car, soon to be rolled down as you both drove, she knew you liked it that way. She looked over the vehicle, thinking to herself before raising her eyes to Elijah.

“Would you look at that, both of my rides in the one place.”

The comment ticked over in your husband’s head before he finally caught on to the reference. He could’ve asked you, everything Val does, she does for a reason. He opened his mouth to reply, but it was no use. Val had fired up the engine and the roar was loud enough to drown out anything he could’ve hoped to say.

Pulling into the parking of the diner, the dust flew up around the tires. You smoothed your hair down, a mess from the wind the coursed through it. You giggled quietly, imagining what you must look like after the 40 minute ride.

“Don’t sweat it, you always look pretty as a picture.” Val once again reading your mind.

You winked at her, back of your hand under your chin. It was her turn to giggle now, shaking her head as she left the car to come open your door. The diner was a nice escape from the heat outside, the air-conditioning wrapping you in it’s arms.

Finding yourselves a quiet booth at the back, you reached across the table to grab onto Val’s hand. She looked from the connection to your eyes, doing her best to take in what you were thinking. There was definite pain, but something else there was starting to make itself known. A feeling she thought you’d forgotten.

“I don’t thank you enough for everything you do for me, pegasus.”

“I don’t do those things for thanks, peaches.”

Your eyes lit up, squeezing harder on your best friend’s hand. You understood the term “ride or die” when you looked at that girl. The things you two had done together, had gone through together, will do together. From the time you stood staunch behind Val, as she came out to her parents. To the time you both cried together on your fire-escape when you first thought Elijah was cheating on you. 

There wasn’t a thing you two wouldn’t do for each other.

“I’ve spent a really long time looking for love,” You started, ducking your head to tuck a strand of hair back. “But I should’ve known I was looking at it all along.”

A gloss cast over Val’s eyes, her content smile glowing radiant on her face. She squeezed your hand right back, running her thumb over the skin. Sometimes your destiny isn’t waiting to be found, it’s waiting to be noticed. 

Your thoughts were broken apart by the waitress, bringing you both your orders. Thick slices of cherry pie were laid down in front of you, accompanied by a milkshake each. You both thanked her, quickly turning to dig into the meals.

A content silence drifted over the both of you as you ate, your eyes firmly fixed on your plate and Val’s somewhere else. Her gaze would constantly draw up to you, the way your lips wrapped around a fork. The way your hand would grasp your glass. She shifted her hips forward in her seat, taking another mouthful.

“This is delicious, almost as sweet as me.” You said to her, giving her your second sly wink of the day.

She shook her head, finishing her mouthful and dabbing her napkin to her lips.

“Hell will freeze over when we find something sweeter than you.”

“Too bad Elijah never cared to find out.” You gave a roll of your eyes.

Val’s nearly fell out of her head, incredulous look at the mere concept. 

“You’re saying he’s never-”

“Never gone down on me? That is exactly what I’m saying.”

“Once again, not sure why I’m surprised, but you poor girl.”

“I just want to know what it feels like before I die.”

“So you’ve never ever been eaten out?”

You shook your head before picking up your milkshake, taking a long sip from the straw. You pulled back and a dribble left your lip. It fell straight down, to the valley between your breasts. It rolled down a tad, before a long finger came to swipe it up.

You watched the way Val caught it, before bringing it back to her lips and wrapping them around it. You found yourself unable to look away, the way her tongue swirled around her digit and left it clean. Your cheeks again to burn, you lowering your gaze as if you weren’t meant to see something.

That same hand came up and under your chin, fingers tilting it back up to look your best friend dead in the eye.

“Y-you’ve always said you’d take care of me where he wouldn’t, right?” Your voice was so ginger, so quiet that you yourself could barely make it out.

“I want to hear you say those words, peaches.”

You sucked in a deep breath, taking her hand in yours and bringing her fingertips to your lips to press a kiss against each. Your eyes rose slowly to look deep into hers.

“Valkyrie, I want you.”

The car parked in the back of an overgrown field, the sun still streaming down hard. Your hand grabbed at the door above your head, your whole body stretched out and open. Val looked up at you from between your legs, hand sliding the thing material of your dress up your waist.

She quickly drew her eyes back down, the most devilish smirk you’d ever seen taking over her features.

“You’ve been wearing no panties this whole time? Had you planned this.”

“You say that like you’re wearing a different shirt.”

She shrugged her shoulders and giggled, earning a sweet chuckle out of you. Val finally allowed herself to take a look at your glistening cunt. She’d dreamed of what this looked like, what it smelt, tasted like. She wasn’t prepared for it to be better than imagined.

She pressed her lips to the start of your slit, pressing kisses all the way down to your entrance. You shuddered at the feeling, goosebumps rising despite the heat of the day. You allowed yourself to relax, knowing that Val would truly take care of you.

“Pegasus, that feels so nice.”

She hummed to herself, darting her tongue out slightly to taste you. A long stripe right from your entrance to your clit. You cried out, one arm coming out to take the hat off her head and grab onto her hair. She carried on, her tongue moving gently against your clit to get you worked up. You didn’t know anything could feel this good.

You lifted your left leg, draping it over her shoulder whilst your other foot was firmly planted on the floor. Val gripped your left thigh, kneading at the soft skin and pulling you even closer. You involuntarily bucked your hips into her mouth, only encouraging Val further.

Any sign that you were enjoying this as much as her, drove her absolutely wild. She’d dreamed of this moment for a long time. She would have never acted this way unless she’d heard it from you first, there was never any overstepping. She dove her tongue into your wetness and flicked it up, earning a cry from you.

The sounds were sweet music to her ears, getting to hear what you sounded like when you were truly and properly being pleasured. She pulled her mouth away for just a moment, running two fingers along you gently. She dipped the tips in slowly, moving past each knuckle until she had them deep in you.

You cried out, gripping onto her harder as she filled you. She moved her hand gently at first, speeding up at your command. Your commands were only quivering moans of “yes” and “please” and “Val” but they meant everything to her.

She brought her tongue back to your clit, continuing her motions against the most sensitive nub. You ground your face down against her, working hard to chase any of the pleasure you could. She was so good to you, curling her fingers up against that spot and flicking her tongue just right.

“Oh, Valkyrie!”

“That’s it, baby,” She pulled away for just a second. “Say my name.”

You called it out again, body tensing as you rode her fingers. Her eyes flickered from your pussy to your face, watching the sweet faces you made as she wracked you with pleasure. Chest tightened with each flick of her tongue, curl of her fingers. You gripped on as hard as you could, as if you were scared of slipping away.

Her laps wrapped around your clit, sucking firmly on the nub and making your back arch. You couldn’t believe you’d been missing this, your husband almost deserving a sentence for keeping you away from this. You rolled your eyes back, Val’s name slipping off your lips like prayer.

You couldn’t see from your angle, but her hips were moving steadily against the edge of the seat. The seam of fabric in her shorts was rubbing nicely against her clit, spreading the wetness you were creating in her panties. She was a generous lover, making sure you were well cared for before even thinking of herself.

Your thighs tensed around her head, toes curling and your head pressing back into the seat. You tugged at her hair, earning the most rewarding moans from her lips. Her fingers sped up, scissoring inside you slightly as her tongue never relented. That heat rising within your belly was start to spread, the feeling dissipating as it was readying to leave your body.

“Valkyrie, you’re gonna make me come.”

“Come in my mouth, pretty baby.”

You let out a strangled cry as she removed her fingers and replaced them at your entrance with her tongue. She rolled it round easily, reading to catch each drop of your sweetness. You tightened, body rising up before the clouds inside you opened. A sweet cry of her name sounded as you came for her, all of the tensions inside of you seeming to melt.

She never let up on the motions of your mouth, your thighs in her hands as she worked eagerly to give you the best time of your life. Her head moved wildly, your hips bucking up much the same. You saw white and you saw stars, feeling your head spin with the amounting pleasure.

You let yourself come back to earth, hand placed over your heart. You looked up slightly to see Val licking her lips, before placing her fingers in her mouth to get the last taste of you. You took her wrist in your hand, pulling yourself up and into her lap, once she’d shifted.

You wrapped one arm around her neck, pulling her face to yours for a kiss. It was more than a kiss in that moment, it was a release. She held onto your waist for dear life, never wanting to let you go again. You held her to you, feeling her heart beat against your chest.

You hadn’t even noticed in the time you’d been out there, the sun was on it’s way to setting. You both pulled back from the kiss, looking out at the open field towards the purple and orange sky. You sat in Val’s lap, her arms still snug around you and yours around her.

She nuzzled into your neck, breathing in your scent and holding it in her memories. You looked out as if looking at a new world, for this would be the start of a new life.

“Honey,” You whispered to her. “I’m home.” 

[extroversive-introvert]

#BlackLivesMatter, #SayTheirNames

1. 𝐀𝐢𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐌𝗼’𝐧𝐚𝐲 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐥𝐞𝐲-𝐉𝗼𝐧𝐞𝐬

killed sleeping on the couch. a flash grenade was thrown through her window and was shot in the head. she would’ve been 17 years old.

2. 𝐏𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝗼 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐞

killed reaching for his driver’s license. he had warned the officer that he carried a gun and told him he was reaching for his license. he leaves behind a daughter who witnessed her father being killed

3. 𝐀𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝗼𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐉𝐞𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐬𝗼𝐧

killed playing video games in her home. an officer had not identified himself, yelled for to put her hands up, and immediately shots are fired. she cared for her nephew and mother.

4. 𝐀𝐤𝐚𝐢 𝐆𝐮𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐲

killed walking in a dark stairwell. an officer had drawn his gun, discharged, and the bullet ricocheted off the wall into Gurley’s chest. he leaves behind a daughter.

5. 𝐌𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞 𝐇𝗼𝐜𝐤𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐲

killed defending her home. an officer fired 20 seconds after they entered the home. she leaves behind three children.

6. 𝐓𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐫𝗼𝐯𝐞

assaulted by police and attacked by a police dog. she was mistaken for a male suspect. she was 19 at the time of the incident.

7. 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐡𝗼𝐧 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐤

killed carrying an iphone. shot 8 times by police, 6 were found in his back in the back of his grandmother’s home. officers believed an “object” was being pointed at them. he leaves behind the mother of his children and 2 sons.

8. 𝐄𝗺𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐅𝐢𝐭𝐳𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐝 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐟𝗼𝐫𝐝 𝐉𝐫.

killed due to racial profiling. he was shot three times in the back. officers have repeatedly changed the story, yet it remains that he did not shoot anyone, was there to protect people, and had a license to carry.

9. 𝐀𝗺𝐚𝐝𝗼𝐮 𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝗼

killed due to racial profiling. he reached for his wallet, and the plain clothed officers started firing. he was shot 19 times. he would’ve been 45 years old today.

10. 𝐓𝐚𝗺𝐢𝐫 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐞

killed playing with a fake gun. he reached for his waist band and was shot twice, the entire incident happened within two seconds. Tamir would’ve been 17 today.

11. 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐯𝗼𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧

killed due to looking “suspicious”. trayvon had come back from buying skittles and a watermelon arizona when a volunteer neighborhood watch person shot trayvon. he would’ve been 25 today.

12. 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐥𝗼𝐬 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐉𝐫.

killed for carrying a knife. officers had placed him in a van giving him a rough ride, where they drive erratically while the detained has no seatbelt, broke his legs, and was put into a coma. he died of a spinal injury.

13. 𝐉𝗼𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐧 𝐄𝐝𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬

killed for being at a party. an officer had fired three rifle rounds into a vehicle, shooting him in the head. Jordan was described as hardworking, smart and always smiling.

14. 𝐉𝗼𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐅𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐥

killed asking for help. his car broke down so he went to a neighborhood and knocked on doors for help. he ran towards police for help and they opened fire shooting him 12 times. he was a football player for the Florida A&M University Rattlers.

15. 𝐊𝗼𝐫𝐫𝐲𝐧 𝐆𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

killed attempting protect her child. she had suffered from lead poisoning and there was no mobile crisis team called in to de-escalate the stand off at her home. she leaves behind two children.

16. 𝐀𝐥𝐭𝗼𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠

killed for selling cd’s and exercising his 2nd amendment right. officers tasered him, forced him to the hood of a sedan, then to the floor and shot him six times while he was underneath them. he was known as “cd man”.

17. 𝐉𝐚𝗺𝐚𝐫 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐤

killed for wanting to talk to his girlfriend. he had attempted to enter the ambulance she was in when officers arrested him on the ground and was shot. he had hopes of attending college.

18. 𝐉𝐞𝐫𝐞𝗺𝐲 “𝐁𝐚𝗺-𝐁𝐚𝗺“ 𝐌𝐜𝐃𝗼𝐥𝐞

killed exercising his 2nd amendment right. officers were called because jeremy had suffered from a self-inflicted gunshot wound. he struggled to put his hands up in his wheelchair and shots were fired, killing him.

19. 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐚 𝐀𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝

killed for not using her turn signal. during a traffic stop, she was forced out of her car, tasered, had her head slammed into the ground, and feared her arm was broken. she was found hanging in her cell. Sandra was passionate for BLM.

20. 𝐋𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐏𝗼𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝗼

killed because she could not afford bail. she was arrested on minor assault charges and sent to riker’s island complex. two months later she was found dead in her cell, she suffered from a seizure disorder. she was apart of the House of Xtravaganza.

21. 𝐓𝗼𝐧𝐲 𝐌𝐜𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐞

killed for defending themselves. several men attacked him earlier in the day so he went to get revenge and was shot by police after he pointed a bb gun. Mcdade was a trans man and people in his community are asking for justice.

22. 𝐌𝐮𝐡𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐚 𝐁𝗼𝗼𝐤𝐞𝐫

killed for accidentally backing into a car. the driver of the car held her at gunpoint when a crowd gathered and they started to assault her. Muhlaysia was found dead near a golf course. her cousin said “she was picked on because she is transgender."

23. 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐞 𝐉𝗼𝐧𝐞𝐬

killed for directing officers to the suspect and negligent officers. she had been standing behind a suspect holding a baseball bat when the officer shot at the suspect and accidentally shot Bettie. she leaves behind grandchildren.

24. 𝐓𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫

killed for needing help with his vehicle. Terence kept asking for help as he thought his vehicle was going to blow up. officers tasered and shot at him. he was a father and was studying music at tulsa community college

25. 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐚𝗺𝐚𝐫 𝐒𝐜𝗼𝐭𝐭

killed for a non-functioning third brake light. Walter has ran from the officer on foot when he was tasrered and shot eight times at him from behind. he was handcuffed facing down on the ground, dead. he had been studying massage therapy.

26. Oscar Grant

shot and killed by an officer while handcuffed and pinned on the ground.

27. Jule Dexter

shot and killed while attempting to pull his pants up.

28. Belly Mujinga

UK railway worker killed on the job after being spat on by someone infected with COVID-19. no justice has been served. the case has been closed 7 weeks after her death.

29. Charleena Lyles

shot and killed inside her apartment in the presence of her four young children after she called law enforcement to report a burglary. she was pregnant and leaves behind her soon-to-be 5 children.

30. Alejandro Vargas Martinez

shot and killed on his way to school. he was 15.

31. Shantel Davis

trailed by two police officers and murdered. she was 23.

32. 𝐀𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐉 𝐖𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐫

shot over 10 times because officers 'beleived' he had a weapon though after shots been fired. no gun OR weapon was anywhere to be found. he was 16, leaving his family, including his daughter behind.

33. Tanisha Anderson

restrained by two officers while having a mental illness episode. they claimed it was cardiac failure; her case was dismissed. she couldn’t breathe, and died before she got to a hospital.

34. James Byrd

killed by three white supremacists who beat him, urinated on him, then dragged him behind a truck for miles. evidence showed he was alive and conscious until he was decapitated and dismembered at a culvert. he would be in his 70s today.

35. Emmett Till

accused of coming onto a white woman in 1955. Kidnapped from his home later that night, beaten to death, body tossed in a river. his mother had his body displayed in an open casket at his funeral. in 2012, the 'alleged whistleblower' confessed it never happened.

36. David Felix

killed by police after being called to building. they were told that the building housed people with mental illness. they were also told that David had been given a diagnosis of paranoid schizophrenia.

37. Aura Rosser

shot by state police. the court deemed her homicide as “justifiable self defense”. the officer who murdered her was never charged. 38. Kenneth C. Smith

went out to hear his music, and gunned down by off-duty cop. he was 20.

39. Jordan Davis

shot and killed over loud music at a gas station. he was 17. his mother is now a congresswoman for Georgia's Sixth Congressional District.

40. Sean Bell

police fired 50 shots on him and his friends as they were leaving his bachelor party. he was killed the morning before his wedding. he was studying to be an electrician.

41. Christian Taylor

shot and killed in 'suspected' burglary. he was unarmed. he played football at Angelo State University. the trainee who killed Christian pursued him without alerting his supervising officer.

42. Samuel DuBose

shot and killed for missing front licence plate and suspended drivers licence. officer who killed him said he was dragged because his arm got caught in the car, but bodycam footage showed otherwise. released on bond without trial, ended in mistrial after jury deadlock. retrial also ended the same way. charges were dismissed with prejudice.

43. Breonna Taylor

shot eight times in her sleep by plainclothes narcotics officers in unmarked vehicles serving no-knock warrant.

44. Ahmaud Arbery

executed on camera by white supremacists while going for a jog. his killers remained free for 74 days before arrest.

45. George Floyd

executed on camera by police officers for allegedly using a counterfeit $20 bill. the killer kept his knee on George's neck for 8 minutes and 46 seconds, of which 2 minutes and 53 seconds George became unresponsive. he leaves behind two daughters.

[rhinozilla]

Whumptober Day 23: Bleeding Out

Summary: The squad has successfully rescued Connor after he was abducted by a red ice ring. Now they just have to keep him alive.

Connects to my fic “Protect and Serve.”

--

God, it was a lot of blood. Wilson had never seen an android covered in that much blood that wasn’t shutdown. The thick, dark blue thirium had coated Connor’s entire chest, pooling in the open cavity where his chest panel was missing. It didn’t look like he was actively bleeding anymore, but the damage had been done. They had covered the exposed biocomponents with Person’s jacket, until they found the missing panel or the technicians arrived to take over.

Kneeling outside the warehouse, where gunfire was still erupting as the DPD tried to get the situation under control, Wilson held Connor’s head and shoulders across his lap, working with Hank to try and get him to drink the second pouch of thirium to replenish what he’d lost. He’d barely managed to swallow the first pouch, and Wilson could feel him getting slacker and heavier in his arms by the second.

Ben was on his feet beside them, waving down the technicians arriving on the scene. Person was holding Connor’s feet up off the ground, elevating his legs to direct the remaining blood flow back to his main biocomponents. Chris had been pulled away to help Tina with the situation inside with Gavin and Fowler.

“Ha…nk…” Connor wheezed weakly.

The skin projection had been deactivated across Connor’s entire form, but even through the adrenaline rush and the panic, Wilson and the others had easily been able to recognize him. If asked, Wilson wasn’t sure he could describe how, but it didn’t seem to matter if his face was skin and freckles or white plastic casing…They knew this was Connor.

“Hey,” Hank said, softer than Wilson had ever heard the lieutenant speak. “It’s okay,” he was saying, one hand holding Connor’s, the other hand resting on the top of his head. “I know. We’ll see you when you wake up. You’re gonna be okay, son.��

Then Connor went limp.

“Lieutenant?” Wilson asked in concern, shifting his hold as Connor’s head tipped back slack over his forearm. His LED was a steady, pulsing red.

Hank exhaled hard and sat back on the grass. “He’s gone into emergency stasis mode.”

“That sounds bad,” Person said evenly by Connor’s legs.

“It’s not great,” Hank replied, tucking the jacket around Connor’s sides. “But it’ll keep him stable for the time being. It’s also protecting his higher functions from the shock.”

Wilson looked from Hank down to Connor. His eyes were closed, and Wilson could feel the whir of the biocomponents still functioning under the plastic casing. It wasn’t exactly a pulse, but it was a sign of life. Beside him, Hank was grimacing, starting to feel the bullet wound to his own arm now that the immediate danger to his partner had passed. There was a patch of red on Person’s leg as well where she’d been grazed during the raid.

Wilson glanced up and saw Officer Harrison walking past, still in full tactical gear covering him head to toe. He was walking away from the warehouse, so Fowler must have gotten control of the situation. Harrison was a former EMT. He could help—Wilson was distracted from the retreating officer as Ben reappeared with two technicians, each with a satchel over their shoulders and toting a collapsed gurney between them.

“We got him to drink one pouch of thirium,” Ben was explaining. “I didn’t see any visible damage to his biocomponents, but his chest panel has been removed.”

Hank looked up as the two technicians knelt down to assess Connor themselves. “He went into emergency stasis just now. He was lucid and responsive up until then.”

One of the techs, a stocky, bald man with very little neck, nodded, opening his satchel while his colleague, a woman with buzzcut brown hair, gently lifted each of Connor’s eyelids, shining a penlight in them.

“Optical units responsive to light,” she reported, pocketing the penlight and placing two fingers of each hand at the points just under Connor’s jaw below his ears. Satisfied with whatever she felt there, she looked to Wilson. “Lay him flat.”

“Starting a line,” her colleague said, unpacking an intravenous kit and straightening out Connor’s nearer arm.

Wilson carefully shifted his hold on Connor, lowering him to the grass. He felt like dead weight, and the tech moved her hands under his head to keep his neck stable. She produced a small handheld device the size of a phone, switching it on and running it over Connor’s body from his head to his knees and back. She glanced at the results of the scan.

“Thirium level is at 52 percent and holding. Stress level measured at 80 percent. Internal temperature is within normal parameters, and ventilation system is functioning normally. No structural damage or system instability detected. He’s safe for transport.”

The bald tech had opened a panel in Connor’s upper arm, connecting an intravenous tube to one of his thirium lines. Blue was draining from the bag that Ben was holding up, flowing down to enter Connor’s system.

“You, you, and you,” the other tech said, pointing quickly to Person, Wilson, and Hank. “Lift on three.”

Wilson slipped his hands under Connor’s shoulders. Person kept her hands around his legs, and Hank moved his uninjured arm under his lower back. The bald tech grasped his arm with the IV in it, and the other one moved her hands under Connor’s head.

“One. Two. Three,” she counted down.

The four of them lifted up, clearing Connor’s body roughly one foot off the ground. Simultaneously, they all shifted to the right, laying him down over the gurney.

“Hey!” Gavin came screaming out of the warehouse, running toward the street. “Stop that guy!”

Wilson glanced in his direction and saw a car peeling away from the scene. Nearby cops were swiveling around to follow Gavin’s order, but the car was already gone.

“Up,” the tech said, and then she, her colleague, and Person lifted up the gurney.

Person wobbled slightly, her injured leg protesting, and Wilson hastily moved to the foot of the stretcher.

“It’s fine,” she hissed through her teeth. “I got him.”

“Let me,” Wilson stated, grasping the edge of the gurney. “C’mon.”

Her jaw flexed, but she relented, limping out of the way to let Wilson take over. He got a firm grip on the stretcher and nodded at the techs. On the gurney between them, Connor was motionless, and it made Wilson’s insides twist uneasily with the same anxiety that he always felt when a fellow officer was down.

“Let’s go,” the woman said, nodding toward the waiting ambulance.

She, Wilson, and the bald tech carried the gurney toward the back of the vehicle, while Ben carried the thirium IV bag alongside them. Hank and Person trailed behind. They loaded the gurney into the back, and the woman removed Person’s jacket from Connor’s chest, exposing the open panel and the glowing biocomponents inside. She ran her scanner over him again, found him stable, and then set the device on his lower belly to continuously monitor his condition. The bald man took the IV bag from Ben and hung it on a hook inside the ambulance.

Wilson stepped back out of the way, grasping one of the doors to close it for them, and watched them work on Connor.

C’mon, he inwardly pleaded. Hang in there, man.

The bald tech was rattling off more information that might as well have been a second language for all that Wilson could understand, and the other technician was pulling open a drawer on the wall of the ambulance, looking for something. She looked back at the cops standing at the open end of her ambulance.

“You two need medical attention,” she said pointedly to Hank and Person. “We’re taking him to Detroit Alpha Facility. What’s his designation?”

“Connor, RK800. He’s my partner,” Hank said, stepping past Wilson.

“Sir, you need—“

“You can either let me ride along, or I’m getting in my car and driving myself there,” Hank firmly. “I’m not doing anything else until I know he’s okay.”

She paused, then quickly conceded. “Up front.” She looked to Wilson. “Doors.”

Wilson closed the doors of the ambulance, and then Hank was barreling around him, heading for the front of the ambulance to ride along. Ben smacked his hand on the back of the ambulance, signaling them to go. As soon as Hank was inside, the vehicle pulled away, onto the street and toward the nearest facility.

Paramedics were approaching Person now, despite her trying to swat them away, and Ben turned to her to convince her to submit to care. Wilson noted that Gavin was gone, in pursuit of the other car that had fled the scene. Fowler was standing on the sidewalk on the radio, firing off orders into it. Chris was beside him, but Tina was jogging over to Wilson and the others.

“Connor?” she asked.

Wilson looked down at his hands, sticky with thirium and shaking slightly. He tried to wipe them on his pant legs.

“AES is taking him to Detroit Alpha. Hank went with them.” He glanced in Fowler’s direction. “What was that?”

Tina’s eyes narrowed. “Bastard got away. Fuck, I swear…if we’d only just—“

“Hey,” Ben chastised lightly, where Person had finally sat on a gurney near a human medical ambulance. “Now’s not the time for that. We got three injured, and the suspect is in the wind. You have your orders. Get back to them.”

That said, his face softened a bit, and he sighed.

“Connor’s a stubborn one. He’s gonna pull through this just fine. Now let’s go get the bastard that did this to him.”

Wilson nodded, and Tina gave herself a shake and then a hard nod as well.

“Yes, sir.”

[guyveranimefan87-blog]

The thing about old cartoons...

Lately I had watched some YouTube video talking about few nostalgic cartoons from 80's and 90's, and it made me think.

Most of those shows that we call classics, fondly remember and talk about to this day were shameless cash grabs, created solely to promote some new toyline, that somehow got popular enough on their own, sometimes eclipsing the stuff they were supposed to promote.

Is this still a thing?

I mean yeah, series that started like that, for example “Transformers”, “The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles” etc, are still getting new cartoons, but at this point they are a cultural phenomenon on their own, that would sell new toys regardless of the cartoons.

And when thinking about new shows based on that idea, off top of my head I can only recall cancellation of "Young Justice" since toys did not sell, and "Stretch Armstrong and The Flex Fighters" from Netflix, since it was kinda-sorta based on a toy that was rather obscure for modern audiences.

So, IMO probably it is not a thing anymore, but maybe we should give this idea a chance once again?

I know it sounds kinda weird, but we don't get so many creatively insane cartoons today, as we did then.

For example let's look at...

Inhumanoids (1986)

We have a trio of ancient monsters with frightening powers awakened in the present times... well at least present at the time of the show's airing... threatening to destroy the world, and a group of brave scientists clad in advanced powered armors, and using various vehicles to fight them, sometimes with the aid of other, more friendly monsters.

Seems standard, eh? I mean, a group of good guys, a group of bad guys, battle for the sake of the world, etc, with a lot of options to add new characters or vehicles to sell as toys later on. 

And then we get to see the clips from actual show, and start to wonder how the heck not one Concerned Parent Organization protested about it...

As a bonus we also got some blood, limbs being cut or crushed... 

Heck D’Compose was a different class of being non-kid friendly in itself, since aside from changing people into monsters, and ruling over an army of undead, he also trapped enemies inside his chest, with internal organs visible... 

You know... For kids!

But aside from that, it was actually quite a well-written show, at least for it’s target demographic and standards of the time, since it had resigned from self-contained one-episode stories, instead building longer story-arcs, with numerous subplots etc.

Sure, it did get silly from time to time, especially in later episodes, but when it did, it was at least silly to an insane degree, which actually made it enjoyable, and memorable.

For example in one of those later episodes we got a plot about a love potion, that caused Inhumanoids leader Metlar to fall in love with... Statue of Liberty.

He then uses his powers to bring her to life... only to regret it later, as she turns out to be a high-maintenance, overtly demanding harpy, who loves to shout at him... 

Yeah... 

80′s were weird. 

OK, or maybe something a bit less obscure, and a little less bizarre?

Jem and the Holograms (1985 - 1988) 

So...

A young woman inherits a failing record company and an incredibly advanced, sentient A.I. that can create a hard-light holograms, and instead of selling the tech and becoming obscenely rich, she uses it to create a second identity for herself, and becomes a music star.

OK, why not?

Now, regardless of what I had written above, I really admire this show, for perfectly embodying the times it was created in, for example taking cues from the growing popularity of MTV and music videos in general by creating their own song, and accompanying videos.

Which in my humble opinion still held up quite well, despite the fact that series itself is over thirty years old.

Yup, still awesome.

Aside from that we had a strong cast of diverse characters, longer story-arcs, and quite a lot of heart, which seems quite nice for a series intended as a commercial for a line of Totally-Not-Barbies...

OK, let’s get into obscure and bizarre again :)

Mummies Alive! (1997)

Yup, a superhero series about a team of resurrected Egyptian mummies with power to transform like Power Rangers or Kamen Riders, to protect a kid from San Francisco who is apparently a reincarnation of the pharaoh they had served in the past from an immoral ancient sorcerer.

Things like that could only happen in the 90′s...

Still despite how bizarre the whole idea was, the show did took time to introduce viewers to some aspects of Egyptian mythology... even if it was watered down a bit, and kept “kid friendly”, characters had their story-arcs, and well... it kinda looked cool, I am not going to deny it. 

I mean, mummies doing henshins through “Strength of Ra”? How could it not be cool? 

What I am trying to say, is that those cartoons created solely to sell us stuff were quite often very original and distinct, and more often than not, writing teams had to be very creative to sell viewers bizarre concepts they were forced to work with, resulting in interesting products.

I mean, they could either try harder, to justify the weird stuff, or just embrace it by not treating it too seriously. 

And it worked somehow.

Plus, those show usually looked a bit better than their counterparts, since toy producers could afford to pay animators better than usually, since if it worked out as planned, they would still earn more on the toys.

And I mean, could You imagine someone green-lighting some of those classic shows today? Exec who would push for it would probably be fired...

I mean, show about anthropomorphic rodents from space who rode bikes and fought evil greedy corporation led by a guy who was a space fish in disguise couldn’t possibly be popular, right? 

Or maybe a series about a group of “radical” kids obsessed with junk food, skating and so on, who were changed into humanoid sharks by mad scientist?

Nah, that’s just sounds dumb, it would never sell...

And don’t tell me You can make a good, engaging, and kinda dark show based on those Polly Pocked rip-offs for boys, that pitted a kid with a baseball cap against various monsters?

Now, I am not saying we’re not getting good cartoons nowadays, quite the opposite, but I kinda miss this mad, unrestrained creativity that could only be achieved through corporate greed and unreasonable restraints put on the creators...

So, maybe we should try this again? 

Edit:

Since it was fun to write, I had uploaded a second part. Cause why not?

The thing about old cartoons #02.