#and her team help her piece back her weapon together for her

[misstrashchan]

In RWBY weapons are a part of a person, an extension of yourself, as Ruby puts it in V1. So, a weapon can say a lot about a person in how it appears and what it's used for.

Looking at Crescent Rose compared to our other main characters' weapons and it's immediately one that stands out from the size alone, it immediately draws our attention, it usually takes up the screen.

Like Ruby, it's striking, awe inspiring and larger than life. It's beautiful, resilient and strong, but evolves to be more adaptable during the Atlas Arc, when Ruby herself has to be more flexible and think outside the box, and her worldview is consistently challenged. It's also very easily the most intricate and complicated design, by her own admission:

"I guess I did go a little overboard in designing it..."

Which, while on the surface means it looks cool and flashy, it's also incredibly complex, just like Ruby.

And as we know from V9, a weapon like that would also be a heavy one to carry at all times too, and it weighs on her. Just like being "Ruby Rose" means to shoulder all the responsibilities and entanglements that come with being who she is, a huntress, a leader, a hero, a spark of hope and light who inspires others. In the end her resolve as a huntress and in who she is, and her purpose, is renewed and stronger than ever before, and wields her weapon once more with confidence.

That doesn't mean her burdens have gotten any lighter though, in fact upon returning to Vacuo, because of her message, all of humanity is now looking to her. No matter how strong, confident and resolved she is, that's a heavy weight for one person to carry alone.

Which brings me to Oscar's weapon, the Long Memory. Which is a cane, smaller, simple and straightforward, but has it's own hidden light stored inside. A cane is meant to take someone's weight by design, that's it's purpose. To be something that's leant on as a crutch when you're hurting to alleviate the pain by taking the pressure off yourself, so moving forward is made easier. Because everyone needs that support sometimes and it's okay to be weak, it doesn't make you lesser, it just makes you human. And it is incredibly human for us to care for and lean on one another for support. That vulnerability leads to our greatest strength as humans.

The one who carries the heaviest weapon vs The one who has a weapon that can be leant on to take pressure off yourself. Ruby who carries a heavy burden and Oscar being someone that can be leant on for support. ooooooohhhh the cymbal ism of it all.

[aquaticmercy]

Waste a Moment / Part 6

Summary : Bucky had always kept his distance, but seeing you get hurt on a mission changed everything. For the first time, he has a chance to start over with you.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : Mentions of food. Cursing. Memory loss. Head injury. Reader used to work in a museum.

Requested by :  @remoony

Word count : 2.7k

Note : I am a sucker for slow burn, I apologise. Best friend!Yelena is in this one! Enjoy! (I’m still uploading every other day!)

Series Masterlist

“Live Wire”

Thursday.

Rejoining the training sessions was… something.

It felt strange, like stepping into a role that was made for you, if only you were better. 

You knew (or at least everyone told you) that you were a part of this team, that you were once strong and capable. But now you couldn’t recall why or how.

The familiar scent of the training facility, the clang of metal, the faint buzz of conversation from otherworldly superheroes— it felt like a stage, and you were just an actor. 

Every step forward felt like the foundation beneath you would crumble any second. The memories of missions and battles shared with these people were just another fog you couldn’t seem to see through. 

The visits from your teammates, your friends, were nice. They just didn’t help. 

The memories weren't coming back, so they were never gonna help.

But you weren’t here to dwell on the gaps in your mind— you were here to train and fight.

Bucky and Clint took the lead in helping you regain your strength, your muscle memory, and your instincts. They started with the basics: hand-to-hand combat, endurance sessions, and weapons training. 

I should be able to do this with my eyes closed, you told yourself. 

The reality was far more frustrating.

You found yourself stumbling over things that should come naturally. A punch that should have landed easily got lost in the air. A knife that once felt like an extension of your arm now felt slippery in your grip. 

You missed, you faltered. 

Each time you failed, a small voice in the back of your mind whispered: You’re not the hero you used to be. You are not who they say you were.

Every mistake seemed to put a distance between who you were and who you are now. You wanted to scream, to lash out, to demand answers from your fractured memory. But no matter how hard you pushed yourself, the pieces never came back together.

And yet, Bucky was patient.

You weren’t blind to the soft and protective looks he gave you.

“You’re doing great,” he said after a particularly gruelling session. He handed you a towel as you sat on the bench, panting in short breaths and dripping with sweat.

Your brows furrowed. “I missed half my shots, Buck. That’s not great.”

He crouched down in front of you, holding your hand in ressurance. “It’s only your first day.” 

Friday.

The second day felt a little less foreign, though the frustration was still there. You walked into the training room with muscles sore from yesterday’s efforts, but there was a quiet determination there now.

Clint was already there, arms crossed after you took a short water break. He gave you a small, reassuring nod. “Ready for round two?” he asked, his voice warm.

You nodded.

The drill began, and while you still missed more than you hit, something felt different today. You were far from perfect, but every punch and every kick felt a little sharper. 

Wednesday.

It wasn’t long until you began to see real progress. The hits landed more frequently, your stance more grounded, your reflexes sharper. 

This morning, during an intense sparring session, you felt everything click into place. The sound of fists meeting flesh, the heavy breaths, the rhythm of footwork— all of it felt like a dance you once knew all the steps to. 

Then it happened.

With a swift motion, you knocked Bucky off balance. His eyes widened briefly in surprise as he stumbled back, hitting the mat with a soft thud. 

For a moment, you stared at him, stunned, your hands still raised in a defensive position. 

“Did I just—”

Bucky looked up at you, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. It was a rare sight of pure joy that made your heart skip. “You did,” he chuckled, brushing himself off as he stood. 

A wide grin spread across your face, the rush of adrenaline making your heart race. 

You had not believed Clint when he said muscle memory would kick in eventually, but now you might.

Friday.

Over the week, you started throwing yourself deeper into training. At times, it bordered on obsession. The confusion, the gaps in your memory, they hurt in a way you couldn’t quite explain, so you drowned yourself in the physical pain of training to distract yourself.

Working with Rhodey and Bruce became your daily escape. 

Together, they taught you new tactics and strategies, methods that felt both familiar and foreign at the same time. 

They were cautious at first, as if handling fragile glass. But when you kept pushing, they began to push back, giving you a challenge they knew you were ready for. 

You noticed the shift in their eyes— recognition, even respect.

Each combat session left you drenched in sweat and aching everywhere, but there was a satisfaction in the exhaustion. 

It gave you purpose.

Monday.

After a particularly gruelling training session, you collapsed onto the edge of the mat. Sweat dripped from your forehead as you tried to catch your breath. Every muscle in your body welt like it was on fire, reminding you just how much work it took to push past the limits of your body and mind. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Rhodey heading your way. With a half smile, he tossed a towel to you. 

"You're starting to look like the old you," he teased encouragingly.

You smiled softly, wiping the sweat from your face. "I don’t feel like her yet," you admitted.

It was true. The person you once were seemed so distant, like a ghost you couldn’t quite reach. “I don't think I ever will.” You said. “Not entirely.”

Rhodey sat down beside you, leaning forward. He rested his elbows on his knees. 

"You don’t have to be," he said, "If anything, you’re better." 

Better. Could that really be true? 

Friday.

You were in the middle of a heated sparring session with Yelena. Like always, she wasn’t going easy on you. Her precise movements kept you on your toes. She pushed you to your limits, and that was exactly what you needed.

Every dodge, every counterattack she made was technically perfect, and you had to stay extra focused just to keep up.

She ducked under one of your punches, twisting her body smoothly as she lashed out with a quick kick aimed at your ribs. But this time, you saw it coming. 

You blocked the strike with your arm, feeling the force of the impact reverberate in your bones. Without hesitation, you swept low, catching Yelena off-guard. Her feet left the ground as she fell hard onto the mat.

For a second, she stared up at you in surprise.

Then, she broke into laughter. 

“Maybe you are back,” she said between chuckles, the happiest you’ve seen her since you returned back to training.

You couldn’t help but smile as you reached down to offer her a hand. "Maybe," you said, pulling her to her feet.

She was beaming at you.

She was proud of you.

Yelena dusted herself off. “You used to do that move all the time,” she said absentmindedly. “It always caught me off guard.”

You tried to search for the memory she described, but there was only emptiness where it should have been.

Your smile faltered. “I… I don’t remember that,” you admitted quietly.

Yelena’s eyebrows softened.

“Look,” Yelena said, nudging your shoulder lightly. “I’m not going to get all sentimental on you, but you’re still kicking my ass. That’s a good sign.” 

You managed a small laugh, shaking your head. “I guess so.”

She smiled, but it wasn’t just a teasing grin this time— it was softer, more understanding. “Besides, who needs the old stuff when we can make better memories?”

Her optimism was contagious. You found yourself nodding, though the ache in your chest hadn’t entirely disappeared. 

Yelena glanced at you. “What do you say we grab some lunch? I can remind you of all the stories you’ve conveniently forgotten.”

You laughed, the sound coming easier now. “I’m in.”

—

Lunch with Yelena started off light and easy. You both sat in a small diner, the kind of place with cosy booths and mismatched mugs. For the first time in a while, you felt a little more relaxed. The sparring session had left you tired, but pleasantly so. 

“So, do you remember the time I convinced you to try those disgusting energy bars Natasha used to swear by?” Yelena started, a sly grin spreading across her face as she picked at her food. “You gagged so hard you nearly threw up.”

You blinked, trying to dig into a memory again, but it came up blank. “I… can’t say I do,” you said with an apologetic shrug, though her laughter made you smile, despite the emptiness.

“It’s fine,” Yelena waved it off. “Just trust me, you looked ridiculous.” Her grin widened, enjoying the memory enough for both of you.

Yelena launched into a couple more stories, trying to paint you vivid pictures of missions and moments that felt so far away. You could hear the fondness in her voice as she spoke, you could see the gleam in her eyes when she talked about how you used to bicker with her over ridiculous things, like the right way to disarm someone or who was faster at sneaking through security. Of course she claimed she was always right.

It made you feel… connected, even if the memories were missing. It gave you hope that maybe, you could rebuild these relationships from the ground up. 

Just as you started to feel more settled, Yelena’s tone shifted ever so slightly. She leaned back, her voice casual.

“So,” she began slowly, “how’s it going with Bucky? I heard you’re still staying with him.”

It seemed to come out of nowhere. 

You blinked, momentarily thrown by the sudden shift in conversation. Brushing it off as bluntness, you quickly recovered.

The warmth in your voice was unmistakable. “He’s been incredible.”

Yelena raised an eyebrow, her fork pausing mid-air. “Incredible?” 

There was something about her tone—something you couldn’t quite place—but you didn’t think too much of it. Instead, you nodded, your mind drifting back to Bucky. 

“He’s sweet,” you continued, a soft smile playing on your lips. “Caring.” You hesitated, trying to find the right words. “I don’t think I’d be managing as well as I have without him.”

Yelena’s gaze didn’t move. If anything, her eyes seemed to narrow slightly.

“Interesting,” she murmured, more to herself than to you.

You didn’t catch the shift in her demeanour, too lost in your own thoughts about Bucky. But Yelena’s mind was racing, almost as quickly as her heart. 

She knew Bucky well. 

She had seen him around you before your memory loss, had seen the way he’d acted toward you— distant, cold, even cruel at times. 

Bucky had always been in love with you; that had always been obvious to Yelena. But he had never let himself get close to you. He didn’t think he deserved you, didn’t think he was worthy of anything or anyone good in his life. 

Yelena had watched as he pushed you away time and time again, putting up walls whenever you got too close. She’d seen the way he kept you out, how he said things that were hurtful things that had made you question whether he even liked you at all. 

Yelena remembered that night with perfect clarity. 

It had been the night before everything changed— before the mission that took your memories.

She could still see the way you looked when you knocked on her apartment door that night— tired, heartbroken. Your knock had been soft, hesitant, like you didn’t really want to be there but had nowhere else to go. 

Yelena had opened the door to find you standing there, looking like a shell of yourself.

“He said he didn’t want my company.” Your voice had been shaky, small, barely above a whisper. “Bucky said he felt like he couldn’t breathe around me.”

Yelena had rolled her eyes, more out of frustration with Bucky than anything else. 

“Boys,” she had muttered under her breath, motioning for you to come inside, not knowing then that this was the last time she would see you like this—the last time you’d even remember the pain he had caused.

You had slumped down onto her couch, hands trembling slightly as you wiped your eyes, trying to keep the tears from falling. 

She had seen this pattern before. 

Bucky pushed you away, lashed out, cutting himself off from you just when you were trying to get close. 

“I don’t know why he does this,” you had said, your voice cracking. “All I do is try. All I ever do is fucking try, and he just… he just hates me. I just want him to at least tolerate me. We work together, don't we?”

That had gotten to Yelena the most—that wounded look in your eyes, the disbelief in your voice. 

You had slumped back further into the couch. “I swear,” you had muttered that day, voice thick with exhaustion and anger. “I’m not gonna fucking try anymore. I’m done.”

Yelena hadn’t known what to say back then. Part of her had wanted to tell you to forget about him, to let Bucky sort out his own mess, but she’d known you too well. She’d seen the way you looked at him—the way you cared deeply, despite everything. 

She had settled for sitting beside you in silence. 

She had never imagined that the next day, everything would spiral out of control—that the mission you went on would end with you in a hospital bed, your mind wiped clean of so much of what made you you. 

And now, watching you across the table, smiling so easily as if Bucky had always been this kind version of himself, Yelena felt that same frustration.

She wanted to tell you what he’d done, how he had pushed you away—hurt you. But looking at you now, seeing the way you spoke about him with admiration, Yelena bit her tongue. She couldn’t destroy that peace for you.

Not yet. 

But what is this?

Bucky was suddenly different? You were telling her that he was sweet and caring? That he was doting on you? It didn’t make sense. Why was Bucky suddenly so attentive, so affectionate? What changed? 

Now that you didn’t remember, why was he this perfect version of himself, the one you had always wanted him to be? 

Yelena couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something wasn’t right. 

Was Bucky taking advantage of the fact that you couldn’t remember the way he’d treated you before? 

Yelena took a deep breath. She offered you a small, tight smile, masking the anger bubbling beneath her skin. 

She would confront Bucky eventually, but she would give him time to come clean on his own. 

But she wouldn’t let him rewrite the past just because you couldn’t remember it. 

Not when it was her best friend.

Not when it was you.

-to be continued…

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[causenessus]

love notes

part 0.1. I KNOW A GUY

"being stupid and being fifteen, the simple mania of no responsibility"

from the gaping mouth by lowertown, left at inarizaki high, hyōgo

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . three years ago. ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

“huh? sakusa, why do you have a stick in your bag?” she watches in surprise as he pulls out a light brown piece of wood

they’re sitting under a tree (on a cloth, of course, they both agree that sitting on the grass would be unsanitary) unpacking their lunches. it’s their first year at itachiyama, only a few weeks in, and they’re still getting situated in their new setting. but the fall weather is nice, and they welcome the nice breeze from the wind. inside is far too noisy for them.

however, when she looks over, he has yet to pull out his food. instead, he’s wielding his stick like a weapon.

“i just have a feeling…something bad is going to happen soon,” he answers, turning his head to scan their surroundings as if something will come leaping out at them any second. perhaps the wooden stick will come in handy if anything pops out of the blue, like two high schoolers.

putting it like that, it didn’t sound that strange. sakusa and her were high schoolers as well, after all. the difference was that they weren’t supposed to be here. they were from an entirely different high school. she had thought nothing of their discolored uniforms until they started coming closer and closer as if they were heading straight for them.

sakusa had noticed them well before her. she had looked towards him to find his head turned away from her, looking down the field towards two small figures in the distance. from that far, neither of them could make out who they were, but as they neared his face contorted. his jaw clenched and his lips were pressed into a thin line as they approached.

“do you know them?” she asked still watching them while sakusa turned back to look down at his food. they looked identical besides the fact that one had gray hair and one had blond hair, their bangs swept in opposite directions.

“omi! are ya happy to see us?” the blond one calls out with a big grin on his face, his other half following behind with a smile that only spelled out trouble.

“what are you guys doing here?” sakusa doesn’t even try to match their enthusiasm, continuing to pick at his food.

“aw, don’t be like that,” the blond continues to whine, “we’re here for our game of course! our school let us out early.”

the two boys both sit down in front of them and she decides to copy sakusa’s posture, paying attention to her lunch instead.

she sees sakusa shift out of the corner of her eye, “no way they let you out this early. it’s like noon.”

she hears a sigh, “yeah, you’ve seen through our little facade…we skipped school and came early, suna’s really pissed we didn’t bring him.”

she’s focused on trying to piece together who the boys in front of her are when suddenly one of them is leaning forward, yellow hair coming into her sight as he tries to peek at her face, “who's the pretty girl here?”

she’s reflexively repulsed backward while sakusa pushes the blond’s face away with his stick. she internally thanks his sixth sense and talent for being overprepared.

“her name is y/n. she’s a photographer for publicity. she’s a good friend and she’ll be taking pictures of the game later today, so back off,” sakusa’s tone is nothing short of hostile, yet she can’t help but give him a smile when he calls her his friend. they haven’t known each other for long, but they’ve bonded quickly over a shared distaste for people and physical contact.

she learns in the next few minutes that the blond’s name is atsumu and his twin brother with him is osamu. they’re both volleyball players for inarizaki, the team sakusa will be playing after school. although initially she was convinced atsumu was the only troublesome one, she quickly learned they were both equally destructive. they'd bickered at least four times in the span of their lunch break, each time being uniquely different and entertaining.

one of her only contributions to the conversation had been making sure the twins had eaten, in which they nodded enthusiastically, explaining that they had stopped at a convenience store before coming here. sakusa had only rolled his eyes, “did you guys even go to school? or did you just come straight here to plague me?”

soon after, she noticed that other students in the grass were starting to pack up and she checked her phone, “oh, lunch is ending soon.”

she’s quick to put away her things, zipping up her bag as she turns back to look at the two boys in front of her. she seems to be thinking the same thing as them, and sakusa is the one to bring it up, “since you guys completely thought through your plan, what are you planning to do while we’re still in class? i’m not letting you into our gym.”

they both place a finger under their chins, looking identical as they ponder the question. “hm, ‘tsumu, i think i have an idea.” osamu wears the same grin she first saw them with and she’s already bracing herself for the kind of plan he’s thought up.

“i think i’m thinking the same thing, ‘samu,” atsumu returns the sly look.

they pause for a moment before they speak at the same time,

“i’m going with dollface.”

“you’re going with omi-omi.”

“come on, ‘tsumu. you’re making her uncomfortable. let her breathe a little before she has to deal with your stinky ass on the court,” osamu scoffs, sticking out his tongue at his brother.

“how dare you! i use deodorant and those hours on the court will be great. besides–” atsumu’s gaze slides from osamu to her, “you’ll get all the good shots of me, won’t ya?”

his stare is intense and it makes her want to curl up. she looks away, trying to cover how red her face is.

“aw look, she’s blushing– FUCK! OMI–” she looks up again and atsumu is holding his forehead while sakusa is once again brandishing his stick. osamu immediately bursts out laughing and has his phone out, taking pictures of his brother.

“you guys aren’t even wearing the right uniform. you’ll get kicked out immediately,” sakusa chides, beginning to stand up and she follows after him, dusting off her skirt.

“don’t worry,” atsumu is quick to recover, bouncing up with a grin on his face, “i know a guy.”

sakusa quirks a brow, but when atsumu doesn’t let up, he groans. “fine, whatever. maybe it’s better that you guys aren’t left unsupervised. but i’m not handling you both. osamu, go with y/n. atsumu, i’ll leave you behind if you can’t catch up.”

the twins share a cheer and high five each other before atsumu runs after sakusa whose already walking away, “don’t worry, ‘samu, i’ll get a uniform and find you!”

he leaves her and his brother standing alone under the tree, and she can’t be bothered to feel surprised anymore at what just happened. sakusa seems like he’s already used to their antics, and she’s starting to feel the same way after one day. when osamu turns to her, she lets him follow along as she walks back towards the school. 

separated from his brother, osamu isn’t that bad. she’s like how he initially perceived him to be, calmer and more observant. as soon as they step into the school, he’s keeping in step with her as he talks, “don’t worry about supervising me. i’m not pushy like my brother. i hate him, and i’ve vowed to never be like him. you know, this may come as a surprise, but no one likes him.”

he smiles when she lets out a laugh, unable to keep it to herself, “you seem like the complete opposite of him when you’re not with him, i was starting to think you guys were just mirror copies of each other and twice the trouble–you bounce off of each other so well.”

he shrugs, hands stuffed in his pockets. he doesn’t seem bothered by the looks some people are understandably throwing his way. his uniform stands out in the sea of green they’re walking through. “it’s a curse and a blessing. depends on the day. hey, by the way, do you make your own lunches? it looked like you were eating tamagoyaki, I couldn't tell.”

she nods, “yeah, now that i think about it, i guess i always like having something to do with my hands. if i’m not taking photos, i like to cook.”

“a woman after my own heart!” he slaps a hand to his chest dramatically before he gives her a grin when she looks at him, “just kidding. i promised not to flirt with you, remember? i think omi would kill me anyway. but i do love cooking, and it’s nice to talk with other people who enjoy it as well.”

she hums in agreement. for how similar he and his brother are, she’s not sure she could ever imagine atsumu cooking something edible, but it fits well with what she knows about osamu. “so, there’s one more of you guys coming?” she asks, trying to keep up their conversation until they reach her class.

he doesn’t answer immediately, seeming to think about her question. “oh, suna? i mean yeah, the whole team will be here later since we’re playing omi’s team. but you’ll definitely meet suna soon. we drag him along everywhere.” 

she doesn’t doubt him. if they skipped school just to wiggle themselves into an entirely other different school, it doesn’t sound out of the question that they could force a third person to come along with them on their adventures. her phone buzzes once they sit down and she’s thankful that the seat behind her is empty, hoping that maybe she’ll be able to block most of osamu from her teacher’s view.

much to her surprise, osamu had gone the entire class without getting caught. he’d taken notes as if this was one of his actual classes and even tapped her on the shoulder to show her a text of atsumu getting his phone getting taken away. she’d had to cover her laugh up as a cough. when the bell rang, she almost left immediately out of habit before remembering she had someone following her.

“i need to stop by the yearbook room real quick to grab my equipment for your guys’ game tonight, is it okay if you follow me there before we go to the gym?” she clarifies.

he nods and she starts to lead him out the door. “and you remember suna, right? how he was mad at ‘tsumu and i for accidentally leaving him behind? he wants food in return…is it also okay if we stop by a vending machine?” he asks, walking alongside her.

“oh, sure,” she answers, “did you want me to drop you off there first instead? honestly, the vending machine with the best snacks is by the gym so we’ll pass by it either way.”

“no, that’s fine. i can follow you to the yearbook room,” he shrugs and she keeps walking. it’s nice to have company as she walks through the halls.

“do you know what he wants? i can pay for it,” she looks at him from the corner of his eyes.

“oh, don’t worry about that. he wants atsumu to pay,” he replies and she snickers. in her head, she can already imagine how atsumu flipped out upon being told that. osamu reaches a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “and he uh…he wants jelly sticks.”

she tries to stifle her laugh with her hand but can’t completely muffle it. “sorry, i don’t mean to laugh. that’s just adorable. your friend sounds cute.” atsumu and osamu were both quiet childish as well. when she tried to imagine what suna might look like, he just looked like another version of the twins. if he hung around them, he was at least probably just as silly as them. 

how wrong she was.

she first meets suna rintaro in the middle of a fight. she’s barely pulled back by sakusa before she gets caught in the crossfire.

it started with osamu and her arriving at the vending machine after picking up her equipment bag. she had said something about buying something for herself too and was digging through her school bag for her coin purse when osamu stepped forward. “here, let me pay. what did you want?”

before she could respond, footsteps came stomping down the hall, “no way in hell you’re paying for her, i am!” atsumu had come out of nowhere once again, sakusa trailing a few paces behind, his face mask doing nothing to hide how severely annoyed he looked.

osamu clicked his tongue, “you have to pay for suna and i know for a fact you’re broke as shit! it’ll be a miracle if you can even afford to buy him jelly sticks!” they began to wrestle, osamu pulling at atsumu’s hair while the blond pulled at his brother’s cheeks,

that was when sakusa had pulled her back just in time for a third voice to enter the picture, piercing through all of them and making them freeze in their tracks,

“seriously? you guys couldn’t even buy me food by the time i got here?”

atsumu and osamu are quick to break up their fight, osamu rubbing his cheeks grumpily. “i have no idea what you’re talking about,” atsumu purses his lips as he turns to face the vending machine again, “i’m buying them right now. see? here they are. your jelly sticks.”

her eyes follow atsumu to the boy he’s handing the plastic package to and her mouth goes dry. he’s nothing like the image she had in her head. what did she even imagine him looking like? surely not this pretty.

shit, he was really pretty. 

the collar of his red jacket hides the edges of his face, but when he turns towards her, she sees his entire face and instinctively shuffles back towards sakusa under the weight of his stare.

“suna! this is y/n. y/n, this is suna,” atsumu follows up, for once (in the few hours that she’s known him) seeming to read the social situation.

“nice to meet you,” she says, not moving a muscle because he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to do handshakes.

“yeah,” he replies, holding her gaze for a moment longer than she expects him to, “you too.” then he turns around and walks back the way he must’ve first come from.

she wants to bury her face in her hands and overthink everything she’s ever done, his yellow-gray eyes still prominent in her memory. osamu’s voice pulls her out of her thoughts, “well, that’s suna.” he states the obvious and no one replies. “anyway, what did you want from the vending machine, y/n?”

“you’re paying for her over my dead body,” she looks up to see atsumu shouldering osamu away from the front of the machine.

“oh yeah like it’s gonna be hard to kill you–”

“you’re both making a fool of yourselves,” sakusa cuts them off and they both immediately straighten at sakusa’s grim tone. 

“you guys don’t have to buy me anything, really,” she tries to add before all three boys look at her and she shuts up.

“no, they won’t let you go until you let them pay for something,” sakusa sighs, and she feels drained. she hasn’t even picked up a single piece of equipment or put her bag down, yet all she wishes she could do is go home and fall asleep, pretending atsumu and osamu were just figments of her imagination. 

but this was reality, and she continued to see atsumu and osamu quite frequently after their first appearance. sometimes they’d show up after school, or visit during school breaks. other times, she saw them during their frequent matches with itachiyama, and she couldn’t help but suspect they were manipulating their coach; there was no way the amount of games between itachiyama and inarizaki was just a coincidence. but their matches were also where she saw suna the most. she had never been able to warm up to him the way she had with atsumu and osamu, but then again, the twins had basically forced themselves into her life. nonetheless, she still talked to him sometimes, and he became part of the reason for the small habit she had formed.

atsumu and osamu complained the most about being starved after games, and she had never realized how draining volleyball must be until she started taking pictures of it up close. it made sense, seeing how attentive everyone had to be 100% of the time, and they were always jumping or running. she saw how it wore even omi (a nickname she had stolen from the twins) and suna down, despite how much they tried to remain their neutral faces.

as a result, she had decided that maybe it was a good time to flex her cooking skills, and to give herself peace of mind that none of them would pass out on their way home. she often made sure to bring food for omi and his cousin komori, but she always made extra when they had a game with inarizaki.

and none of them complained, it was second nature for osamu to come stumbling towards her after every game, looking like a sweating mess unable to even keep his eyes open as he asked her for food. she’d force him to patiently wait a few more minutes as she took shots of the teams packing up which also gave atsumu and suna time to come over as well.

she had told herself she was making food for all of them, but in reality, she knew it was for suna most of all. she was too scared to talk to him as often as she did the rest of the boys, yet she still found herself pulled to him. food had instead been the mutual connector between them. it was something they exchanged without many words, but she reasoned that it was a good thing that they weren’t very close. as much as she tried to play it off, she couldn’t keep her camera off of him. she knew she was supposed to be taking pictures of itachiyama–and she did make sure to take good shots of them–but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t find herself always turning towards the other side of the court every chance she got, following one middle blocker in particular. 

it was always embarrassing to think about, and she tried to push the thoughts away as she rustled through her bag for her container. 

she almost felt like a mother, really. she'd taken in three insatiable foxes plus whatever omi could be considered as–something more passive than his sly opponents. she'd fed them all once and now they'd become attached to her for life. they definitely played the part, looking restless and grumpy while she tried to do her job. eventually, she'd give up trying to take any more pictures and rustle through her bag, finding the rice balls she'd prepared earlier that morning for them. they weren't sufficient as a meal, but something she deemed good enough to last them until they got home.

"y/n, I could kiss you," osamu would confess as he stole the first ball and she'd laugh, seeing atsumu nod eagerly in agreement and the look suna threw their way. neither of the twins ever noticed, too invested in their food to care about anything else.

"back off, she's not yours." omi came to stand beside her, nodding in thanks when she offered the food to him.

"oh whatever," osamu shrugged, "i'll open a restaurant and hire her, then you won't be able to say anything."

"y/n made food for us all, omi-omi. you're just jealous you lost~" she’d grown accustomed to how much trouble atsumu got himself into, seeming to never learn from the beatings omi would give him. she watched the two fight before suna approached her, making her freeze up.

"do you have any food left?" he asked.

sometimes it took her a moment to respond, too caught up in admiring his eyes before she forced herself to respond, "oh, yes. I have a few more. take as many as you want," she held out the box, laughing when osamu snuck in next to her to steal another ball as well. she sent up a silent apology to komori; she had technically made enough to feed him too, but if suna wanted a rice ball meant for him, she was definitely giving it to him.

she was glad he liked her cooking, it was always a worry in the back of her head if he would like what she made. osamu and atsumu would eat anything, and she knew what omi liked. he was the only one she wasn't sure about. whenever he seemed to like something she brought, she made sure to write the recipe down so that she could make it again. she may not have been able to talk to her with words, but if she could show that she cared about him with actions, she was going to make the most of it.

that was how their time through high school had gone, all the way up until graduation. when suna had decided it was time for that to change.

prev. | m.list | next

extras <3

just a little bit of backstory between the friendships of most of the characters! i thought it'd be cute <3 hopefully this wasn't too long and this chapter was pieced together over a few weeks so i hope it flows alright

doing something a little different with song reccs this smau!! i don't think it's very clear although i tried to make it easy to understand, these are basically lyrics that suna left written on a wall in different locations <3 they range in how specific they are and nothing's really important about them! i just thought it was cute to include <3

y/n was put in charge of taking photos for the boy's volleyball team since the yearbook program was stretched thin

inarizaki’s coach, seeing how she took a lot of photos of inarizaki too (bc of suna but he doesn’t need to know that), asked her to send the photos to him

she was so intimidated she made sure she edited them and then sent them his way. he was impressed with her work and asked her to take pictures for inarizaki’s team too whenever she had the time ofc

which also meant she was always cooking to bring something for suna & co. <3

when she got into college, she was offered a job as a photographer for a sports magazine but she declined because she realized it was just not the kind of photography she wanted to do for the rest of her life

this is important for next chapter 😭 but suna is on y/n's private!! most of her friends are, because it's where she posts everything since her main account is dedicated to photography. so that also includes atsumu and osamu ofc

they're all also second years in college in present time

NEXT CHAPTER HAS NO WRITTEN PARTS I SWEAR AND PROMISE ON MY LIFE I'M SO EXCITED FOR IT I JUST NEEDED A CHAPTER TO WARM UP TO THIS SMAU

taglist: @0moonii @iluvmang @bluebeanbee @wyrcan @oyasumeii @froyaoya @gyuijns @nbcvs @milkteade @eggyrocks @guitarstringed-scars @makkir0ll @mylahrins @cherrypieyourface @vivian-555 @sharkerino @r0seandth0rns @staileykout @lunavixia @thvvluvr @elliott0o0 @wolffmaiden @rockleeisbaeeee @toges-cough-syrup @cnnmairoll @ryeyeyer @hibernatinghamster @localgaytrainwreck @lemonocity @bows4life @sereniteav @madiexuberant @eclecticeggknightpsychic @phoenix-eclipses @sonicsolos @httpakkeiji @brkfclub @snail-squasher @starry-magicshop @cr4yolaas @kitnootkat @zzzlevislothzzz @iluv-ace @iluvaquaphor @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @applepi25 @twiishaa @girlkissersco @sleepystrwbrryy @encrypta

[soap-brain]

i think one of the nate eliot things is that they're both fucking unhinged. there's something feral about them, something that's capable of disregarding basic humanity. we know eliot is a killer, and a ruthless one at that, and he's not afraid of being in those kind of situations, which in a way dehumanises him, this inability to feel fear.

and nate. nate!! that man is terrifying! get in line, or get out of the way is his motto, and he applies it to absolutely everyone. especially in the earlier seasons, and yes he applies it to sophie (who is unarguably closest to him) too! for maggie he decides that she will get out of the way (because falling in line with him would mean that she would break the law, and she's a Good Citizen, not a Criminal or a Thief, and it never occurs to him that it's not a black and white situation... or that his ex wife matches his crazy).

and if you do neither, he ends you. simple as that. he doesn't kill you and he doesn't physically harm you, but what he does is arguably worse, because he ruins your life in ways eliot can't.

and they very quickly recognise each other as apex predators and both allow the other to use that for their crusade. eliot is a weapon that needs pointing in the right direction, that's what he's getting out of their relationship; and nate needs someone who'll have a go at him and who he can't actually hurt. because nate ruins lives by ruining their reputations, and what reputation does eliot have to lose? and conversely, not even nate ford could convince the world that eliot spencer isn't really fucking dangerous

(sidenote: that's why making moreau watch eliot spencer decrying the evil presidential dog fights is so fucking funny. there's an excellent post about it somewhere on here)

eliot thinks he's further along the path of being something inhuman, and he also thinks nate can still be saved from becoming that too. being an insurance cop, a "good guy" (btw a very laughable concept about how working in insurance makes you a good person. like. if that were the case then how come the same "good guys" let nate's son die so they didn't have to pay for his treatment?), was what kept nate on the straight and narrow before, and now giving him something to do might stop him from going completely off the rails ("how long until you fall apart again? a guy like you can't be out of the game, that's why you were a wreck. you need the chase" is what eliot's saying to convince nate to stay with the team).

unfortunately running with criminals doesn't fix nate the way eliot would like for it to, because the guy suddenly stops recognising any and all societal rules and overcompensates by trying to keep full control of everything all the time. he is so unreasonably mad at sophie for trying to help her friend teresa who got screwed over by marcone.

"she should've known what she got into, her husband working with the mob" and cpl perry from the ep before should've known what he got into, joining the military, but for some reason he's worth helping because he didn't "choose" to become a criminal. did teresa choose to get in with the mob or did she and her husband just not have another chance?

and when the entire team agrees they want to take that job, nate throws a hissy fit. tells them all to walk if they don't like the way he runs the team.

so does leverage fix nate? maybe after five seasons. but at first it makes him worse because between "not having to abide by normal human laws anymore" and the alcohol he completely loses his restraint

and eliot gets that. eliot has been there, has completely lost any and all principles (working for moreau mostly) and is now trying to glue the pieces of himself back together into something that isn't horrible. but nate isn't there yet. nate is still violent and dangerous, and eliot is the only one on the team who isn't disgusted by it. sophie certainly is. hardison and parker are too, even if they don't say it out loud. eliot may not like it, but he gets it.

and in return, nate is the only one who knows about what happened in the big bang job. he can hold eliot back with as little as a gesture or a look and it's not a slight to eliot at all. eliot trusts nate to point him in the right direction because they both need the same thing:

to be a good man.

also:

eliot: what, you think the only thing i know how to do is bust heads? nate: no... well, yeah. eliot: hold a knife like this, cuts through an onion. hold a knife like this, cuts thought like eight yakuza in 4 seconds. screams, carnage... nate: yeah good point actually

like apart from how it's funny, any normal person would react with some version of "that's so fucked up". and nate is just like yeah nah that tracks actually, fair enough, do carry on

also @scotchiegirl something about nate and eliot and violence? sorry for tagging you aslkdjfhasdlkfj i just had ThoughtsTM

[bitchinbarzal]

take care of my baby | S Reid

summary: when maeve goes missing spencer gets help from his ex, the mother of his daughter and she puts her life on the line for his girlfriend.

-

Spencer had told Ruby about Maeve. He had told her Maeve was a friend while he read out her letters, some Maeve had even written specifically to Ruby.

You were happy they were happy, no ill feelings towards your ex and his new girlfriend. Your babygirl was happy and that’s all that mattered to you.

Ruby would come home from a weekend with Spencer, telling you about Maeve and the phone call. That it was a secret and nobody could know except you guys.

You knew the team weren’t aware Spencer was dating again until he stood before you all, begging you to help find Maeve.

You all worked tirelessly, trying to figure out who Maeve was and who was after her.

It was you who figured out what Diane wanted, piecing together her lax use of Spencer’s doctor title without being pretold and then her slip of your daughter’s name.

You were sat at the round table when you off handedly mentioned “Yeah Spence is always talking about Ruby in interviews, that Diane girl was asking about her earlier”

Spencer frowned, eyebrows knitted together while he looked at you “She mentioned Ruby?”

“Yeah, she was asking-“

“I never said anything about Ruby”

You shrugged “Maybe I mentioned her and forgot, she asked me about my husband and I was talking about you being my ex and-“

You cut yourself off, thinking back to your conversation with Diane earlier in the day. Her pushing to know about your relationship with Spencer, more information on Ruby.

“Oh my god” you gasped “It’s her, she’s the unsub!”

In the warehouse you and Spencer stood both pointing a gun at Diane who held hers against Maeve’s temple.

You watched Maeve tremble in her hold, Spencer equally as frightened as he watched on.

You tried to talk her down, Diane was insane and there was no talking her off this cliff.

“Your parents died when you were young, Diane” you started, hands up and placing your gun on the ground. She pointed her weapon at you, hand shaking as she cried.

“We” your finger referenced between you and Spencer “We have a daughter, Diane you don’t want to take away her parents, the people who love her. Maeve is one of those people”

Maeve softened at that, having grown fond of the girl over their correspondence.

Diane’s gun moved between all three of you. She was becoming erratic.

“How about a trade?” You said, earning a crazed look from Spencer.

“Me for her” you suggested, hands up to show you weren’t a threat.

Diane hissed “You’d do that for her?”

You let out a shaky breath “Yes”

The her in question wasn’t necessarily Maeve. You didn’t know her. It was Ruby, it was your daughter having a happy dad, a happy family.

She shook her head. You watched on as she held her gun to her own temple, in line to hit Maeve on exit.

“Wait!” Spencer screamed, trying to grab your wrist as you pounced forward to push Maeve out the way.

You were laying on the floor, Spencer hovered above you before you realised what had happened. The burning sensation in your chest settling in.

Spencer desperately tried to put pressure on your chest, Maeve now joining him as he screamed for help.

Your eyes filled with tears as you smiled softly “Spence, stop”

He shook his head “No, No! You can’t die, you can’t- Ruby needs her mom. C’mon don’t do this!”

You reached up and grasped Maeve’s hand weakly “Take care of my baby”

She shook her head too “No, no! You’ll take care of her Y/N, you can’t, you shouldn’t have done that!”

You coughed, blood coating your lips “Promise me”

She sighed, tears dropping on your face “I promise, I promise - somebody help!”

The last thing they heard you say before your eyes closed was “Tell Ruby I love her”

The two of them sat by you, both in shock. When the rest of the team entered the room they stopped, all just as shocked.

That night they watched Spencer and Maeve meet Ruby in the round table room, her expression ecstatic to finally meet Maeve in person. Then they watched through the glass as Spencer kneeled down in front of his daughter explaining something to her, her face fell before she began sobbing and kicking him.

Maeve stood off to the side, upset and confused. Confused why you’d done that for her and upset for your daughter, your daughter who now didn’t have a mom because of her.

[juanarc-thethird]

Since your doing the DP and Wolverine prompts does this mean that Nora’s used Jaunes dead body as a weapon or just his sword?

Deadpool used Logan's bones because they are metal, so in this case I chose a third option that I came up with. --------------

Nora arrives at a forest where a cross marks the site of a grave.

Nora: (Narrating) For a long time, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be back. VIZ Media bought RWBY, there was a whole boring rights issue, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. But then, it turned out that they wanted me! the one girl who shouldn’t even have her own show! That was all so stupid. Look, we know the title of this thing, so I know what you’re wondering. How are we going to do this without dishonoring Jaune's memory? And I’ll tell you how. We’re not.

Nora then starts digging

Nora: (Narrating) I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Jaune is not dead. Sure, it made for a perfect ending to a very sad story, but that’s not how his Aura boosting thing works. You think I want to be out here in beautiful downtown North of Vale, digging up the one and only Rusted Knight? No, thank you. But the fate of my entire world is at stake. He may not be living his best life, but he sure as hell ain’t dead.

Nora finally reaches the bottom and finds the coffin.

Nora: Bingo... Yahtzee...

She then begins to tear apart the coffin.

*Smack! Tap! Scratch! Bang!*

Nora: Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.

*Crack!*

She makes a hole in the coffin and then…

Nora: Damn it!

She didn't like what she found.

Nora: Son of a bitch! *Hits the cross* Fuck! Motherfucker! My world is fucked!

Moments later....

Nora leaning against a fallen tree

Nora: *Talking to his right while the camera is only focus on her* That was weird. I’m much calmer now. Look, I’m not a woman of science, but you seem incredibly passed away.

The camera zooms out to show a very dead and skeleton-like Jaune, but still wearing his armor.

Nora: But it’s good to see ya. I gotta be honest, I’ve always wanted to ride with you, Jaune. You and me, getting into a Ladypool and Rusted Knight. Just fucking shit up. Can you imagine the fun,... the chaos,... the residuals?

She then starts playing with Jaune's helmet.

Nora: (Mimicking Jaune's voice) That's right Nora. There’s nothing that’ll bring me back to life faster than a big bag of RWBY cash.

Nora: Me too, Jaune. *Gets upset* No, no, no, no. Ugh, he had to get all noble and die for real. God damn it! *Looks back at Jaune* I could really use your help right now.

Suddenly, a group of futuristic soldiers appear out of nowhere. Nora sees them and hides along with Jaune's corpse.

Nora: Wait! I’m warning you! I’m not alone!

Soldier: Nora Valkyrie! You’re under arrest by the Time Variance Authority. Too many crimes with this, come out!

Nora: I hate this guys.

Soldier: Last chance! Throw out your weapons and come out peacefully!

Nora: I’m not gonna give you my weapons! But I promise not to use them. *Looks at you the reader* Did you know that Jaune's armor is made by a lot of pieces together? Here we go, maximum effort.

Nora jumps out of her hiding spot, and uses Jaune's corpse as cover. The soldiers are confused.

Bye Bye Bye by NSYNC It starts to play.

Nora: *Looks at Jaune* Okay, Jaune. I guess we’re getting that team up after all.

Nora grabs a piece of Jaune's armor and throws it at one of the soldiers, killing him instantly. The other companions of the deceased are stunned, but seconds later they run towards them as more soldiers appear.

Nora takes two pieces of armor from Jaune's shoulders and uses them to stab two of the soldiers. One in the back, and the other one she slashes and then stabs him in the head. Following with a kick that makes the piece come out the other side of the guy.

She then uses her leg armor and begins to swing around, hitting the soldiers in the face. She knocks one to the right, another to the ground, and one to the left. She then takes her phone and takes a photo of herself kissing one of the deceased on the helmet.

She then takes both of Jaune's arm armors, bones and all, and begins to slap each and every one of them like it's a game. With what remains of the armor already shattered, she kills the remaining ones. I use Jaune's fingers to stab one of them. Jaune's head to hit another one in the genitals. What's left of the legs to stab quite hard right into the chest of another soldier who was running.

Nora: What is this?

Nora notices a part of the armor that looks like a sword handle and pulls it out. And just at that moment a blue sword blade appears as if it were a lightsaber.

Nora: *GASP!!!!* IT'S THE SWORD OF DESTRUCTION!!!

Nora: I am soaking wet right now.

Nora: (Narrating) To be clear, I’m not proud of any of this. The wanton violence, the whiff of necrophilia, it isn’t who I am, it isn’t who I wanna be. Who I wanna be? Well, to help you understand that, I gotta take you back. My little joy ride I took through space and time, to the day that changed everything.

Nora: (Narrating) But that will be for another day, because the idiot who wrote all this is a little tired.

[0kurakura0]

Case Files Pt.2

Simon Riley "Ghost" x UN lawyer Reader

TF 141 receives a visit from a UN prosecutor working at the ICC. This overworked prosecutor is trying to build a case against war criminals and must team up with them to catch these criminals. Along the way, they may even catch feelings for a brooding soldier. slow-burn, M/F, cursing

>> Part 1

Months had passed since the last confrontation between Task Force 141 and the UN lawyer, who had left their mission in utter disarray by arresting Leopold. Task Force 141, now back in their usual routine, was gathered once again in the same briefing room. The air was thick with the preparation for their new mission. Ghost leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his mask reflecting the room's dim light. Soap sat beside him, tapping his fingers on the table in an impatient rhythm. Gaz, ever the calm one, observed them both while Price stood at the front, casting a glance at the door every so often.

Laswell’s voice crackled over the speaker, as she started the briefing. “All right, gentlemen, today we’re being called in for an operation in Lebanon. Our target is an arms dealer with deep ties to black-market weapon trades across Europe and the Middle East. The objective is to take him down and dismantle his network of contacts and clients,” she explained, her tone steady.

Soap leaned forward. “Right, so what’s the catch? Seems simple enough.”

“Simple?” Laswell chuckled darkly. “Not exactly. This time, the UN wants direct involvement. They’ve assigned an attorney to accompany you. Their goal is to ensure any evidence you gather will hold up for an international prosecution.”

Soap leans over to Gaz whispering “What the chances of it being the li’le lass from last ti-,”

The door creaked open, and in walked ____, the same woman who had arrested Leopold months before. She wore the same crisp suit, her demeanor equally unyielding, though there was a slight tension in her shoulders. As she entered her gaze met Ghost’s, and he narrowed his eyes under the mask, the sense of annoyance already brewing in his mind. He wasn’t the only one; the entire team looked taken aback.

“Thanks, Soap,” Gaz says in annoyance before Price clears his throat towards them signaling them to shut up. “Sorry cap,” both Saop and Gaz say. Once Price turned back to the center table Gaz shoves Saop in the side. 

Laswell continued, undeterred. “Gentlemen, meet _____. She’ll be joining you in the field to help secure solid evidence against our target.”

Soap snickered quietly, leaning toward Ghost with a whisper. “Back again, huh? Bet she’s thrilled to be workin’ with us.”

Ghost rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath. “Don’t see why we need a suit in the field.”

_____’s lips tightened as she caught the comment, and she addressed the room in a clipped tone. “I’m not thrilled about it either, but orders are orders. My goal is the same as yours—to put this man behind bars, not just take him out. I’m here to make sure every piece of evidence we collect is admissible. That’s it.”

Price cleared his throat, attempting to defuse the tension. “We’re all on the same side here. _____, I trust you’ll stay out of the way when things get… heated.”

_____’s eyes flashed, her voice steady. “As long as the evidence remains intact, I’ll give you the space you need to do your job.”

Laswell’s voice broke in again, her tone a bit softer. “Everyone here has their part to play. Work together. This arms dealer has slipped through the cracks before, and if we’re not meticulous, he’ll do it again.”

The room fell silent, each of the operatives turning to look at one another with various shades of reluctance and tension. Gaz leaned forward, breaking the silence with a low voice. “Fine. Let’s just make sure we’re all on the same page when things kick off. We all want the same outcome, so let’s keep it that way.”

Price nodded, grateful for Gaz’s level-headedness. “Well said, Gaz. Let’s get to work, then.”

As they filed out of the room, Ghost’s gaze lingered on ____. She met his eyes, her expression cold but focused. He grunted under his breath and followed the others, his mood simmering. This mission was going to be anything but simple, it was going to be a right pain in his ass. 

~A short while after the meeting~

_____ POV

“Sir, respectfully, I don't understand why I am doing fieldwork, that's not something we do!” I say on the phone to my superior, Clarkson as I stand outside the meeting room in the hallway. 

“I know but we need all the evidence and help we can get on Tarek. He has been eluding us for too long and every time we get any type of evidence he somehow finds a way to destroy it. Just bear with it for now you'll be fine” Clarkson says in a stern but understanding voice. 

Clarkson has been my superior ever since I joined the UN law sector. He is a good man and has always been there to help me in situations. Iv looked up to him in a sense I guess. He always is just amazing with his work never losing a case and always being the most confident person in the room. I just don't understand why he would send me of all people to do this. Like seriously I'm not a soldier! I am a lawyer goddammit! I cry in my head till I answer back with a simple “i understand” in a defeated tone. 

“Just stay safe. I'll be checking in on you to make sure and hear of your progress. And ____ stay safe out there don't put yourself in any unwanted situations.” He says before saying goodbye and hanging up.

I sigh leaning my back against the wall and looking up at the ceiling before giving myself a little pep talk. “You can do this ____, just show these guys that they can't walk all over me.” hump I smile to myself “Not even that brooding skull dude” I keep smiling at myself as I continue to gaslight myself. 

“Just stay out of our way, suit,” a low gruff voice says from the side of me.

I freeze. Without turning my body I move my eyes to the left of me to see the dude I most definitely verbally called brooding a minute ago. 

“HOLY FUCK” I scream jumping at least a foot away from him as I see him just standing there next to me. “WTF you can't just sneak up on people like that what the hell and why are you trying to listen in on my call or something!” I yell at him as I place a hand over my heart trying to find my heartbeat.

“Last time I checked you don't own this hallway and it's your fucken fault for taking a call right outside of the briefing room. And a word of advice: stay out of our way unless the only evidence you and your superior will end up with is a dead lawyer,” he says as he moves closer to me looking down on me to try and intimidate me.

“Is that a threat?” I glare back up at him.

“A warning,” he says as he shoves past me pushing me to the side in the process. As he continues down the hallway.

That asshole…..THAT COMPLETE ASSHOLE. I CAN'T BELIEVE HE SAID THAT TO ME.

As he rounded the corner down the hallway and disappeared from sight. in all my 4 years of law school maturity and glory, I raise both my hands and flip him off before turning down the opposite way. 

“ Just stay out of our way meh meh meh. Prick” I say grumping going down the hallway. I need a raise after this shit. 

Hey all here is part 2 actually came out faster than I thought I would type it out but had a burst of energy lol. chapters will be getting longer from here on out since I can play with it more. The next one will probably come out at Thanksgiving time.

well, I hope yall like it :)

also really love all the support I've been getting from everyone it's so nice if anyone has requests more than happy to do them.

also master list coming soon

[writing-until-i-drop]

Rough Sex | Javy "Coyote" Machado x reader | wc: 1,274

No use of y/n | 18+ Minors DNI

Warnings! rough sex, biting, dirty talk, spanking, lmk if I missed anything

a/n: thank god for @closetspngirl because this piece kicked my ass and I debated skipping it and hoping no one noticed but you convinced me to finish it

Ao3

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

When Coyote transitioned to a two seater jet he knew he’d be getting a backseater. What he hadn’t expected was you. You had walked into the Hard Deck wearing a sundress that had made his mouth run dry and when you had figured out he was your new pilot, you had greeted Coyote with a hug and a key on the cheek. Then the jackals (his friends) had descended. 

Hangman was first up to bat, trying to charm his way into your pants but you had shot him down. Next was Rooster, who’s cheesy pick-up lines were more effective at turning your cheeks pink than Coyote would have liked. Phoenix had you under her spell with a few whispered words in your ear but she still struck out. Fanboy and Payback had kept things light, shooting for the friendzone and hitting their target, and Bob had just given you a wave. It irritated Coyote how much his squadmates wanted your attention which caught him off guard.

Coyote had never been directly responsible for another person’s safety in the air. Phoenix had warned him that it would be a new experience, what he hadn’t realized was just how…protective he would feel over you. Hangman claimed it was more possessive than protective but Coyote denied everything. He wasn’t possessive. He just didn’t like it when other guys talked to you, or put their hands on you, and he wasn’t particularly fond of the way men looked at you when the team went out for drinks. 

He wanted to be the only one you focused on, especially when you were together. And for the most part, you were good at that. In the air you were constantly in his ear, updating him on navigation and the weapons system. Coyote had assumed that having a backseater in his ear would be annoying but he found himself asking you questions just to hear you talk. The fact that you had moved into the apartment across the hall from him was a bonus, Coyote had helped you finish unpacking and offered to car pool, reveling in the fact that even if 

Right now you were sitting with Phoenix, chatting animatedly with your hands, leaning against the wall at the Hard Deck. When he heard what you were saying, he nearly dropped his beer.

“Honestly, you wouldn’t think it’d be this hard to find a guy willing to fuck the shit out of me.” Phoenix cackled, throwing her head back as if that was the funniest thing she’d ever heard but Coyote didn’t find it funny. He looked around, no one else was listening in except for poor Bob whose cheeks were cherry red.

“What about that guy I set you up with last week?” Last week? You had gone on a date last week? You groaned,

“He wanted to be all kissy and affectionate which is weird with a guy you don’t really know, at least for me.” 

“As much as I hate to say it, Bagman could probably get the job done,” Absolutely not. Coyote put down his beer, approaching your table. He liked the way your cheeks flushed pink when you caught his eye,

“Ready to go home, sweetheart?” Your brows scrunched in confusion, normally the two of you stayed much longer, but since we was your ride, you nodded, saying goodbye to the team. Coyote took a chance, pulling you into his side, his grip tight on your waist.

“Jav, what’s going on?” 

“You told Phoenix you needed something,” Your little gasp was enough to break the last of Coyote’s restraint. “And I’m the only one who gets to give you what you need. If you’ll let me.” Coyote pushed you against the side of his car, lips attacking your neck. You said you didn’t want kisses and affection, you wanted something rough, and he’d be damned if he let anyone else do it. “What do you say, sweetheart?” 

You moaned, tilting your head to give him better access, spurring Javy on. He nipped at your neck, savoring the sounds you made for him.

“Is that a yes?” 

“Do you need a written invitation, Jav?” You pushed his shoulders but didn’t let him get far, gripping his shirt. The look you gave him was dark and flirtatious, you had used it on him several times before. Your favorite pastime seemed to be teasing him but he never thought you meant anything by it because you’d laugh it off the second you said it, falling back into normal conversation. “Am I going to have to walk you through this? Should I go back in there and see if Bagman can get the job done?” 

“Get in the fucking car,” Javy snapped and after a second, you complied. 

“Fuck,” Your moans were muffled by the pillows on Javy’s bed as he plowed into you from behind. He was gripping your thighs tight enough to bruise, raising them to the perfect angle that let him hit deep inside of you with every thrust. You would never be able to look at your pilot the same way again, not when he was rearranging your insides while growling in your ear.

“You have been driving me crazy for fucking months, do you know that?” You couldn’t respond, your mind focused on the feeling of his cock filling you completely. “Letting the other guys flirt with you when you’re mine, all fucking mine, arent’ you?” God, being his sounded like a dream. “My backseater, my responsibility, my girl.”

“Yours,” You whined, “Spank me.” Javy didn’t hesitate, bringing his calloused hand down on your ass. He did it again and again, your ass stinging, Javy wasn’t holding back and you couldn’t have been happier. Fuck he felt good. He was doing everything that every other guy you had slept with thus far had failed to do.

“I’m the only one who gets to do this, do you hear me?” He pulled out and you instantly felt empty, crying out. “Tell me what I need to here, sweetheart, tell me the truth.” Javy rolled you onto your back, stroking himself over you. 

“Only you, all yours, please,” You were babbling but you meant it. This was all you had wanted for months, ever since you had first walked into the Hard Deck and found out that he was your pilot. “Javy, please. I need you.” 

“Good girl,” Javy thrust into you, leaning over your body. You were writhing beneath him, desperate for your release. He captured one of your nipples between his teeth and you cried out, scratching down his back. “Play with yourself, sweetheart. I want to feel that pretty cunt squeezing my cock and I want to feel it now.” You reached down, rubbing your clit, and it didn’t take long to send you over the edge.

Your orgasm was earth shattering, you couldn’t tell if you were screaming but your throat was burning. Javy kissed your neck, spilling inside of you, fucking his hot cum inside of you with short, hard thrusts. When he pulled out of you he rolled onto his back beside you, bringing you into his side.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” Javy asked as you snuggled into his waiting arms. You rested a hand on the back of his neck, 

“Can I get a kiss finally?” Javy hadn’t kissed you once the entire time and you were in dire need of his lips on yours.

“I thought kissy, affectionate sex wasn’t what you wanted?” 

“Not with other guys but you’re my pilot,” You pulled his head down, brushing your lips over his. “And I want you to kiss me.”

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[yerimbrit]

WWIB > 8. errand girl (wc: 1k)

y/n jumps when she feels a hand grab her shoulder from behind. when she turns around, haerin is staring at her with a blank face.

"haerin! i thought you went home?"

"hyein went to debate club. i went back to your house but..." she trails off, blinking. y/n waves her hand in front of her face.

"but what?" she furrows her brow.

"your sister is home. what are you doing out here?"

successfully distracted, the debate club member starts explaining her situation to haerin, moving her arms about in an exaggerated manner. and she does make sure to slide in some petty comments about rei and hanni.

the cat-eyed girl hums. "okay."

...then unexpectedly starts walking towards another classroom and leaving y/n to catch up with her.

"where are you going?" she huffs.

haerin doesn't answer, but discreetly brushes her hand against y/n's, locking their pinkies together. a red blush dusts over her cheeks and ears, the action silencing her for the rest of the walk.

they make it to an empty second-year classroom, standing at the entrance in silence.

"um—"

"chairs," haerin clears her throat, "you said you needed chairs right?"

y/n's eyes light up, crinkling as she smiles. the feline pulls away to grab a chair, waiting for the other girl to do the same before cautiously maneuvering herself through the door without bumping into the frame.

they begin walking back, hands too occupied to resume locking their pinkies together but y/n makes it up to herself by stealing looks towards haerin.

many questions are raised in her head, including but are not limited to: why was she waiting outside of the club? why is she so pretty? why is she helping with the chairs?

before she gets a chance to ask, haerin beats her to it with her own question. "what are these for?"

y/n purses her lips, eyes narrowing when she can barely make out a crowd forming outside of a classroom. more specifically, the classroom that is being used for debate club. "i think there's an event...?"

"i can see that," the feline deadpans, frowning at the amount of people gathered. "i didn't know you had so many members."

"we don't," y/n replies dryly, "at least not half of the whole school!"

it's sort of a hassle at first, pushing through dozens of unassuming students with a chair in hand. but then again, the chairs could serve as a weapon and thus the two girls part the sea of students with ease.

once they make it through the doorway, they're greeted with a beaming wonyoung standing between hanni and the new girl, seemingly having a standoff.

the vice-president waves them over. "y/n, haerin! thank you for the chairs, we're having a debate starting right about now."

y/n widens her eyes. they didn't even prepare anything, much less the topic. "now!?"

"yep! hanni against danielle, like a trial run for danielle."

"they're just going to do it alone?"

wonyoung grins. "no. hyein's going to be on danielle's side. and," her gaze trails over to the feline. "if you don't mind, haerin on hanni's?"

haerin nods, effectively baffling y/n. "who's the moderator?"

"you!"

the next few moments pass by in a flash; y/n doesn't remember when or how she got in the moderator's seat, situated between the two teams. she doesn't remember the last time she was the moderator for practice matches anyway—wonyoung put her on a moderating-ban because she never takes anything seriously.

a raffle box is placed in front of y/n, containing folded up pieces of paper that have topics on them. they're mostly for the first few meetings at the start of the semester, an icebreaker of some sort.

she reluctantly sticks her hand in the poorly-cut cardboard box that they have been using for years and need to replace soon. she always gets scratches whenever her hands are near the opening.

the desks have been pushed against the walls to make room for the crowd that was forming outside of the room. it's probably filled past capacity as people are shoving each other around to get a better look, and there's still people watching from outside. wonyoung manages to get them to assemble neatly, forcing them to sit with their legs crisscrossed on the floor. impressive.

and then it hit y/n: wonyoung is taking advantage of the transfer student's explosive popularity gained from just one day. and she's afraid that the club will have more visitors and newbies than any other year.

she unfolds the piece of paper, reading it mentally before preparing to announce it with everyone's stares on her.

it's not a very memorable or iconic question, like if the egg or chicken came first, or if water is wet. it's probably a question lazily grabbed from an ai generator, but there's not really anything she can do about it.

looking over rei's neat handwriting, she reads out: "if you were given the ability to read minds, would you keep it or not?"

yep. totally unoriginal. she sends a tired look over to the culprit, who shrugs as if she didn't know who wrote it, and returns to making heart eyes at jiwon.

eventually, danielle and hyein choose to refuse to keep it, and hanni and haerin choose the opposite. the two sides are given five minutes to prepare their arguments, which are also five minutes of y/n resisting the urge to drag haerin home with her so they can play with miro.

she looks over to the right, where danielle smiles and waves at her, to which she returns. and she looks over to the left, where haerin is already staring at her with slow blinks. hanni tries to snatch the winning flag from the moderator's desk and fails.

y/n sighs. "i miss miro."

the timer goes off, reducing the crowd's chatter to mere murmurs. wonyoung makes eye contact with y/n.

"both sides, are your opening arguments ready?"

"yes!"

y/n thinks she should've skipped today.

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[stories-and-chaos]

Shrike: How to Train Your Exorcist

[Hazbin Hotel reader insert as Alastor’s “darling life and death partner” Ace x ace relationship, both parties are moderately sex favorable.]

[One shot, word count 1425, Cw: mild cursing]

—————

There was barely a month before Extermination Day. The Hazbin Hotel was packed for the first time with residents; cannibals and your avian demons, preparing to defend against the exorcists. The cannibals were used to ripping their prey to shreds. They needed practice hitting weak spots and wielding angelic weapons instead of their teeth and claws.

Your flock had flight and agility but the majority relied on hit and run tactics. They needed to learn not to dash off but continue their attack. Fortunately a couple of your followers had a more hawk-like design and the hunting ability to match. And you of course had the look of a butcher bird; you had plenty of experience taking down opponents.

“Alright you lot! We’ve got techniques you need to learn if you’re going to last longer than thirty seconds on extermination day. Angels are used to being unopposed in the air; they fly down, attack, then fly off to their next victim. So we take advantage of that.” You paced in front of the gathered demons.

You were short, but most of your people weren’t much bigger. “Exorcists aren’t going to be looking above themselves for targets. Even a small fighter diving at high speed can knock their target out of the sky. If we can grab and spin them, we might even break bones when they hit the ground.”

Some of the more delicate members of the group looked at each other dubiously. “Not to mention, they don’t fight together. They hunt down targets individually. Which means we can team up against them.” Now they looked more curious. “We don’t even have to make direct contact; two or more of us diving right next to them at top speed is going to hit them with our wakes. Knock them off balance and they’ll be easy targets for Pentious’ ranged weapons.

“We’re all going to have angelic steel weapons. Slash at them as you dive by, you might hit limbs or a wing. If you’re lucky, you’ll hit the neck. Ultimately, our goal is to disrupt them in the sky and get them to where the cannibals can finish them off. Now, let’s start with diving runs.”

You ended up holding multiple target dummies aloft with little whirlwinds. The demons weren’t very accurate at first, but they picked up the concept quickly. Before the week was out, more than half were knocking the dummies off their perches and almost all were trying weapons during their dives.

Alastor was doing his own preparations, but he did help setting up the targets. His tentacles held them in place when you needed a break. He also amused himself by making surprise attacks to keep the fliers on their toes.

You hauled Husk over at least once a day to join the flight group. He still didn’t like having wings, but you pointed out he needed every advantage he could get. And you knew how rusty the former Overlord was. So you shoved him right into the lot for practice.

The one you couldn’t get a hold of was Vaggie. She was spending all her time instructing the cannibals, then working with Charlie after. You’d seen her new wings and according to her royal girlfriend, the former exorcist had been in Hell for years. If Husk was rusty, Vaggie likely was too.

Ten days before the early Extermination, you walked up to Vaggie after the group’s lunch break. “Let’s leave the troops to Charlie for the afternoon, ma petite. You’re overdue for some time with me.” You linked your arm in hers and essentially dragged her with you. Charlie tried to come with you, but you waved her off. “Not to worry princess, I’ll give her back in one piece!”

“What the hell are you doing?” Vaggie didn’t really sound angry, just annoyed at your pushiness.

“I am giving you something you badly need.” You brought her to a patch of grass near your flock’s training area. You had told everyone to clear out of the sky in this area; this wasn’t a group session. “You’ve got those pretty new wings, cher. Let’s prove they’re not decorative, hm?”

With that you launched into the sky, hovering about twenty feet above the ground. “I know how to fly, Y/N.” Her voice turned harsher than usual as she joined you. “And Carmilla already showed me how to fight angels.”

You smiled, got a bit more altitude, and raced past her in a dive that sent her spinning in the air. “Carmilla, for all her skill and charm, is sadly limited by gravity,” you said, pulling out of your dive. You grabbed Vaggie’s arm as you passed her again, this time pulling her up with you. You brought her face close to your own. “We are not.” Before she could respond, you grabbed her shirt, spun her in the air and threw her toward the ground.

She managed to get control and brake before she hit the ground. “Allons’y cher. You know how to beat angels?” You summoned a stiletto in each hand. “Let’s make sure you can beat them where they feel strongest; the sky.” Vaggie pulled out her spear before launching herself at you.

She was right; she did know how to fly and fly well. It seemed flying was like riding a bike, you never really forgot. But she was also out of practice and had never sparred with someone like you. Someone willing to fight dirty, with tooth, talon, wings, and every bit of strength in your small frame.

That first day, she could barely touch you. But by the end of the day you could tell she was getting more fluid before the tiredness set in. She had a grin on her face as she begrudgingly said, “Okay, you’ve got a point. I need practice.”

“So you’ll be here tomorrow afternoon?” She rolled her eye and agreed before finding Charlie. You stretched your wings out and Alastor manifested behind you. “Looking like you were enjoying yourself today my dear.”

“I did, cher. Husk refuses to spar with me and none of our followers can quite keep up. Despite the situation, it’s fun to find someone who can.” You smiled up at him and placed your hand in his outstretched one. His shadows enveloped you, delivering you to the hotel suite.

Alastor led you to the table and pulled out your chair. “We’ve hardly been able to spend time together recently. Will you let me have your attention for the night my dear?”

“Gladly, darling.” After dinner (gumbo that reminded you of quiet nights both in the living world and Hell), the two of you relaxed on the couch together. You each had a book to read; the only sounds were the turning of pages and the chirps and drones from the bayou. Just being in each other’s presence helped calm your nerves about the upcoming battle.

The following week was packed with training and preparing the hotel’s grounds for the attack. Vaggie showed up every day after lunch to practice with you. As a former exorcist, she was experienced with various weapons already. She picked up on your style without too much difficulty.

Two days before the deadline, she grappled you in midair. Her remaining eye glowed as she continued her movement, spinning you with her own body as the axis. Like you had to her the first day, she flung you to the ground, her rotation giving the throw more force.

Too close to brake, you resorted to cushioning your fall with wind. Once your head stopped spinning, you looked up at her and started clapping. “Well done, cher!” You rustled your feathers, getting everything back into place before taking to the air again. “Now, let’s make sure you can do it again.”

It turned out she could. Neither of you could manage too many in a row without getting a wicked headache. But Vaggie had a grasp of everything you could show her in those ten days. Much of what you had practiced together was new for her, meaning it was one more way to catch the angels off guard.

Inevitably, Extermination Day arrived. You waited with the rest of the defenders. Vaggie had her wings hidden for now; none of her former comrades knew she could fly again and she wanted it to be a trump card.

Golden light rained down, Vaggie rallied those around her with Charlie, you and yours took to the sky to teach the rest of the exorcists a lesson.

——————

@whitewolfsoldat @edgyboi10000 @ch3sire-blu3 @clearly-awkward @badatpunz @bengewatch @chewbrry

[agirlwithdemonblood]

Through The Shadows: Chapter 1 - Unexpected Backup

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader

Series Summary: A hunter's Journey through despair and recovery is guided by Dean Winchester's unwavering love, leading her to reclaim her strength, voice and hope for their shared future.

Chapter Summary: Dean and Y/N never got along, but after a close call he starts to give her the benefit of the doubt.

Series Masterlist here!! & Main masterlist here!

Dean Winchester slammed the trunk of the Impala shut, muttering under his breath. The hunt was turning out to be more complicated than he and Sam anticipated. The ghost was aggressive, elusive and there had been more injuries than clues. They needed backup. Unfortunately, the backup Sam had in mind wasn't exactly Dean's favourite.

"Dean we need her." Sam stated, his voice firm as he leaned against the car. "She's experienced with these kind of cases. Her research skills are unmatched and you know this."

Dean grimiced, looking off into the distance. "Sam you know she and I don't exactly see eye to eye, I don't get why you're so insistent on this."

"Maybe because she's the best at what she does?" Sam rasied an eyebrow, "And she's my friend. She can help us. And you might try not to be so.... Dean."

Dean stared back at Sam offended before his eyes rolled and he grumbled underneath his breath. "Fine. Call her. But don't expect me to play nice."

"I never do." Sam sighed as he pulled out his phone.

Y/N arrived at the old warehouse, parking her car beside the Impala. Her heart pounded with anxiety, her fingers tapping a nervous rhythm on the steering wheel. She had known Sam for years; they were close, sharing countless laughs and late-night research sessions over the phone.

But Dean... Dean was different. His sharp eyes and gruff demeanor always made her feel on edge. She often caught him glaring, and his short responses only heightened her anxiety. She couldn't help but constantly feel like a disappointment in his eyes.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped out and walked towards the brothers. Sam greeted her with a wide grin and a hug. "Thanks for coming Y/N. We really appreciate it."

"Of course." She said softly, her eyes darting to Dean. He gave her a curt nod, his expression unreadable.

"We've got a restless spirit." Dean explained, his tone short and blunt. "Likes to stab first, ask questions never. Thought you might have some insights on handling this."

Y/N nodded, trying to focus on the case rather than Dean's intimidating presence. "Let's start with the records. There might be something in the history of this place that we missed."

The three of them spent the next few hours combing through old documents and piecing together the ghost's backstory. Y/N found herself slipping into her comfort zone, sharing her findings with Sam, who encouraged her with his usual supportive demeanour. Dean however, remained distant, his eyes flickering to her occasionally, as if trying to read her.

As night fell, the team prepared for the confrontation. The ghost had appeared several times at the warehouse, and they planned to force it into the open. Tension hung in the air as they spread out, each armed with weapons and salt.

Suddenly, the ghost appeared, a menacing figure with a twisted blade. Dean charged forward, aiming to banish it, but the ghost was faster. It lunged towards him, knife shining in the moonlight.

"Dean, look out!" Y/N screamed, running towards him as fast as she could. She pushed him down to the ground just in time, but the ghost's blade sliced across her arm leaving a nasty gash.

Sam fired a round of salt at the ghost, repelling it temporarily. Dean quickly scrambled to his feet, his eyes wide with shock and concern. "Y/N, are you okay?"

"I'm fine." she panted as she clutched her bleeding arm. "Just get rid of that thing!"

With a new found determination, the brothers managed to corner the ghost and kill it for good. The air was filled with the smell of burning ectoplasm, and silence settled over the warehouse.

Dean turned to Y/N, his gaze softening as he was the blood seeping through her sleeve. "You saved me." He said quietly, his usual gruffness replaced by a rare vulnerability.

Y/N shrugged, wincing slightly. "Just doing my job, Dean. Somebody has to keep you guys out of trouble."

Sam grinned as he clapped Dean on the shoulder, "She's got a point!"

As they cleaned up and prepared to leave, Dean approached Y/N, his expression uncharacteristically serious. "Listen, you should stay with us at the bunker. At least until your healed."

Y/N hesitated, glancing between Dean and Sam. "I... I don't want to be a burden."

"You aren't." Sam assured her. "We'd we want you there, right Dean?"

Dean nodded, his gaze fixed on her. "Yeah, we'd like you to stay."

She took a deep breath, finally nodding in agreement. "Okay, but I have one rule, Dean."

"What's that?" He asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Don't fall in love with me." She said half joking, half serious.

Dean rolled his eyes and scoffed, "You wish."

Sam laughed and even Y/N managed a small smile despite the pain. As they headed back to the cars, she couldn't shake the feeling that things were about to get a lot more complicated.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Chapter 2 coming soon stay tuned!

Like, comment, and reblog, feedback is my fuel 💕

[quizzyisdone]

The Colour Red (Pt. II) | Jason Hudson x Fem! Bell x Russell Adler

Chapter Title: Bad Moon Risin' Word Count: 3.7k Pairing: Jason Hudson x Fem! Bell x Russell Adler Masterlist Synopsis: Bell and Adler arrive at the safehouse in West Germany, where she meets the rest of her team, save Alex Mason and Frank Woods. The team gets down to business -- they've all gathered to take down the elusive Perseus, the infamous soviet agent whom they know next to nothing about, save for that he's planning something big. That much, Adler is sure of. To figure out their next move, Adler and Park use a memory recollection technique to help Bell recall Operation: Fracture Jaw, yet another memory Bell had lost due to her head injury two months prior. A/N: Hey! I'm back, totally not inspired by the new Black Ops VI trailer at all. Like, at all. Anyways, here is the next installment of my personal favorite series, The Colour Red. Keep in mind this is a slowburn fic, and sorry about the lack of Hudson in this chapter. I hope you enjoy! Warnings: Strong language, mentions of weapons, canon-typical violence.

**Title inspired by "Bad Moon Risin'" by Credence Clearwater Revival

[Part One] [Part Two]

You don't need to read part one to understand this chapter, btw

The car halted to a full stop as Bell fluttered open her eyes, Adler lightly shook her shoulder, stirring her even further awake. 

“Bell. Welcome to West Berlin” He gave a half-hearted smile, a cigarette between his teeth. Bell groggily roused herself from the passenger seat, watching Adler closely as he held the lighter close to his face, letting a puff of smoke blow back in the wind behind him.

The light from the flame illuminated the scarred half of his face, and she could see that where he had shaven was uneven and choppy, a stark contrast to the close shave on the “normal” side of his face. Still rather handsome, barring his scars. He had a classically attractive, well structured face, resembling that of movie stars such as Robert Redford. Blonde hair, blue eyes and very charismatic. He must have many women wrapped around his finger back in the states, Bell presumed.

Adler took one last glance at her, then began to approach a woman that was leaning against an old, worn garage door. Bell took in her features as well. 

She had an uncanny familiarity about her. She had silky, jet black hair cut and styled into a practical bob, unusually tall but athletically built, and she sported pragmatic yet stylish clothing. She had delicate, feminine features but still yet appeared to be able to keep up with the likes of a black ops legend such as Adler -- a strange dichotomy between graceful and deadly. 

Adler had told Bell that she was a legend in her own rite at MI6, that’s why he had requested her for the op. Apparently, it was true that while she was known for her lethality and pretty appearance, it was her brain, not the obvious honey trap she is, that he was interested in. Adler had joked several times that she was a walking cliche, a classic femme fatale type.  

The more Bell seemed to take in her appearance, her shattered memory would begin to piece itself together again. Her face. A red door. A jungle. Sterile white lights. Televisions. War footage. Then nothing. Whenever she was on the precipice of piecing her memory back together, it seemed it would shatter again.

Adler glanced back. “You comin’?” He said with a slight frown. Sheepishly, Bell nodded, not having realized she spent too much time what would appear to the others as staring into space for no apparent reason. 

Bell hurried to catch up with him, trailing behind Adler closely even as the oddly familiar, yet bitter scent of tobacco filled her nose. That closeness, she wondered, it may be obvious to Adler, which she could live with, but would it escape the notice of the others? She hated that, her clinginess to him, but it made some sense (at least that is how Bell would justify it) -- Adler was the only kind face she could remember after her fall. 

Although she didn’t want to admit it, she preferred to be close to him at all times. His presence was comforting, the anxiety she felt would fade away in an instant -- she could almost forget that she couldn’t remember. One might mistake the connection for romantic, as Hudson, their handler had pointed out rather astutely (and irritably) before they departed from Langley today.

 Bell couldn't help but notice the parallels either, he very much played the part of her knight in shining armor, saving her from sure death, never having left her side while she healed, gently guiding her as she navigated regaining her lost memory. Although she must admit she has lingered on such an idea, Bell recognized Adler very likely felt no such way towards her.

She knew his feelings towards her. They had been through hell and back together, saved each other's ass, and understood each other like no one else. Bell knew where she stood, something more than a friend but less than a lover. It was a strange, blurry purgatory between platonic affection and passionate love.  

He had helped her remember the basics. With his guidance, she now knew that her name was Anabelle Meyers, hence the name “Bell”. She was a cryptographer and a linguist working for MI6, she had spent the better part of a year in Vietnam with Adler when she began working a joint operation with MACV-SOG and MI6 and they’ve been friends for 13 years. Two months ago, on a solo operation, she had taken a long, hard fall, hitting her head. Bell would've died if Adler hadn't been there by random chance. Bell could recall that in perfect detail now, although it was fuzzy just a week ago. 

“Park.” He acknowledged and nodded towards her. He glanced back, noticing how Bell followed so closely behind him and smiled to himself. It gave him some kind of pride that she leaned on him as a protector of sorts. 

“She looks familiar.” Bell whispered as soon as they were out of earshot of Park. 

Adler stopped in his tracks for naught but a second, “Maybe you saw her at the Century House in London back in the day.” She knew that it wasn’t likely they had never been acquainted, nor ever having even met each other, but Bell let the conversation go -- chalking it up as some kind of weird deja vu nonsense. 

When the door opened it revealed a large warehouse-like room with a table set in the middle, a bulletin board with the face of man that was supposedly Perseus and a giant red circle around it (Bell quickly noticed how the picture gave her an uneasy pit in her stomach and her head would begin to hurt), an array of weapons upon a wall guarded by chain link fence with a lock, and all the other stereotypical features befitting a CIA safehouse. 

“We’ll talk later, okay?” Adler whispered to Bell as he approached the gathering of folks around the table set in the middle. “Bell, this is Helen Park, Lawrence Sims who you’ve already met, and Eleazar Azoulay. We just call him Lazar, though.” He introduced her to them.

Lazar gave her a friendly but quiet hello, Park nodded, and Sims simply stared daggers at her before turning his gaze back to Adler. “Mason and Woods are finishing some business in Kiev, but you’ll meet them later.”

“Do I know them?” Bell asked meekly and Park cocked an eyebrow, smirking to herself as she glanced at Adler, silently beckoning him to answer the question. 

“Ah,” Adler chuckled lightly. “No, you know them by reputation, but not, ah, personally.” Bell nodded in response before letting him continue. He turned back to the rest of the group, while Bell stood snug behind Adler. “There’s been a surge in Russian chatter for the past 48 hours. The CIA and DoD are tapping their inside sources for anything substantial, but no leads of Perseus so far.”

“MI6 has come up empty handed as well.” Park added.

“We’ll have to start somewhere, so we’re going back to 1968, Vietnam.” He strode towards to the bulletin board, pointing at a polaroid picture of Sims and Adler sitting side by side, labeled Operation Fracture Jaw. “One our closest encounters with Perseus. Bell, you don’t remember this, of course, but you were there.”

“Fracture Jaw, what a steaming pile of shit that one was.” Sims grumbled.

“Also the first time where Perseus pinged our radar. While you were on the ground, you dug up some intel on him.” Adler continued, he held a folder with a dried, bloody handprint and Cyrillic printed on the front. “We’re gonna help jog your memory so you can crack this. At the time, the CIA’s best analysts couldn’t decode that thing, but we’re gonna have you take a shot.” Adler placed his hand on Bell’s shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. 

“Yeah.” Sims scoffed. “If even Weaver couldn’t crack it, what makes you think she can?” He had said it with such venom, such doubt that it made Bell wonder what had happened between them. She made a mental note to ask Adler about it later, but for the moment, she hardened her gaze, attempting to make herself seem less vulnerable than she truly felt.

“It can’t hurt, Sims. She’s always been one of the best, you know that.” Adler said pointedly. “Anyways, we’re gonna use a hypnosis technique. While our little Bell will be in a hypnotic state, I will be reading the operation report, retelling every detail of what happened when she and you were boots on ground. Theoretically, she should remember it all and be able to decode it.”

Sims shrugged, Park and Lazar nodded in affirmation. The group disbanded wordlessly, Park headed over to the computer by the gun rack with Lazar trailing behind and Sims went over the gate that locked the chain link fence. That had left her and Adler, as he lit another cigarette (his fourth in the last couple of hours, Bell noted) and sat at a chair in front of the evidence board. 

He stared quietly at it, his mouth was set in a frown but his sunglasses had made it impossible to even begin to guess what the man was thinking. 

“Adler,” Bell spoke quietly, tapping his shoulder. Adler smiled ever so slightly, the small gesture was a welcome change from Sims’ behavior just a moment ago. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Anything, kid.” He said coolly, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“That memory exercise we’re doing, we can use it to recover some of my memories?” A glint of hope appeared in her chestnut eyes.

He chuckled, low and husky. “Ain’t that exactly what we’re doing, Bell?” She rolled her eyes but gave a small laugh in return.

“You know what I mean. Like, the memories that aren’t from war or anything like that. Something a bit happier.”

Adler grimaced then sighed, ashing his cigarette and sitting up straighter, and the small smile that appeared on Bell’s face vanished, like she knew he was about to tell her some unfortunate news. The pair sat in an awkward silence as Adler thought about how to break it to her.

“We can’t really.” He reached for her hand, giving it a light squeeze before pulling away. “The memory exercise only works when you have either one or two things; a written documentation of a memory that we can actually get our hands on or someone who was also there that can recall the memory and tell it to ya.”

“Oh.”

“When we found you, you didn’t have a journal or anything on you. Not even dog tags. No one would have been able to identify you if I wasn’t there.” He pursed his lips, offering a small apologetic smile. “Sorry, Bell.”

“Well I mean, we’ve been friends for a while. What do you know about me? Anything about my family?” The hopefulness had returned to Bell’s eyes, and Adler could feel a lump forming in his throat as he thought deeply. 

“Uh, well,” He cleared his throat. “You never spoke anything of them really, it seemed a sore spot for ya so none of us ever really pried.” She glanced down, looking utterly defeated as she sniffled. Adler tried to lighten the conversation at least a little. This wasn’t the place nor the time. “I know that you used to have a nicotine addiction worse than me.”

Bell chuckled. “I still crave them all the time.”

Adler chuckled, clapping her shoulder. “Tell you what,” He said, reaching into his pocket to grab his cigarettes. He handed one to her and she placed it between her teeth, giggling a little as he lit it for her. “I think you deserve at least one. Old habits die hard.” She took a drag, blowing a playful ‘O’ into his face. “Atta girl. I’ll get you a pack tomorrow.”

“I knew I liked you for some reason.” She smiled, the first genuine smile Adler had ever seen out of the woman.

“I’ve always been an enabler of your bad habits.” 

__

January 26th, 1968

Camp Haskins, South Vietnam

0700

“Bell, time to wake up” A raspy voice had startled her awake, the boot of the offender shaking the fold up chair she had practically passed out in. She groggily opened her eyes to find her new teammate with a shit-eating grin on his face. “It’s crank time.” 

“I’m up” She grumbled, rubbing her eyes. He swiped the chair back to the ground where Bell had been leaning, causing the legs to harshly meet the floor and she nearly fell forward. The man chuckled lightly.

“C’mon sleeping beauty, you knew we were doing this.”

“Yeah, I know.” The exhaustion was still evident in her voice as she rose from the chair, grabbing the M16 she had left leaning against the wall. She followed behind him, taking in the scene around her as she left the tent, the morning sun already beating against her skin.

It hadn’t been her first choice, being assigned as an agent working boots on ground with MACV-SOG, and it certainly wasn’t her first choice to be placed in the middle of buttfuck nowhere Vietnam. Her work was typically confined to that of a desk in an office, in the comfort of air conditioning and without the threat of an enemy attack at a moment’s notice. However, given her limited but notable military work, her handler thought she would be wasted back home in the comfort of an office in London. 

Her handler was of course right, but she wished he wasn’t as the stench of gunsmoke, gasoline, and body odor filled her nose. She watched about a dozen shirtless, grimy men going about their business. Most had simply ignored her, but a few had leered at her as she passed by, perhaps bedazzled by the first clean and somewhat attractive thing they had probably seen with their own eyes in months, Bell cockily mused to herself. 

“Camp Haskins, what a sausage fest.” Bell said quietly, chuckling.

“I heard that.” Adler yelled back good naturedly, and Bell half walked, half jogged to catch up with him. “You should be thankful, this place is a fuckin’ oasis compared to the shitstorm out there. Those boys keep it that way.”

“Yeah, yeah ‘God bless our troops’ and all that shit they keep telling us.” She jabbed Adler’s arm and he laughed softly. 

“I know it’s not what you’re used to, but your handler could’ve done worse for you.” They approached the landing zone, her other new teammate, and Adler’s best friend, she had determined based on their interactions, sat on the ledge of a helicopter ready and waiting for them. 

“Finally found Bell?” He hollered out over the sound of the whirling blades of the craft, without looking up from the magazine he was reading. Lawrence Sims was his name, he had dark skin with large, almost doe-like black eyes to match. He wasn’t a looker, but he had a friendly, jovial feel about him. Adler approached him, snatched the magazine from his hand to take a lingering glance at the lewd picture within. 

“That shit’s gonna make you go blind, Sims.”  He threw the magazine back at Sims as Bell loaded herself in. 

“That’s why I want it all right up here.” He replied jokingly, pointing his finger to his temple and shooting a playful, friendly wink at Bell.

“You’re not helping Bell’s accusation that this place is a sausage fest.”

“I’d say she’s made an astute observation, then.” Sims clapped his hand on her shoulder. She returned their grin. However, as the pilots began to load in, the mood shifted dramatically with it, like someone had sucked all the humor out of the situation and brought them back to the real world. Adler took this as his cue. 

“We got a new assignment. FOB 4 Ripcord is holding a vital asset that Charlie wants real bad.” He shouted over the deafening sound. 

“What kinda asset we talking about?” Sims asked. 

“The kind you don't ask about. Ripcord has been taking a hell of a beating, so it's our job to secure the asset and get the fuck out.” Bell began to stiffen and her palms began to sweat inexplicably, which Adler seemed to take notice of. “Relax. We got fast fliers providing combat air support for this mission. It'll be a walk in the park.”

“I’m holding you to that.” She said, putting on her headset as Adler took his leave. He climbed in the helicopter just opposite of them, and with that, about half the armada began to lift off. The chatter rang loud through the headset.

“Badger-niner-one good to go.”

“Badger-niner-two clear to go.”

“Badger-niner-three rotors up.”

Sims shuffled a bit, pulling a cassette tape from his pocket. “You like music?” He asked. Bell nodded, a lump beginning to form in her throat. “Good because I was gonna play it anyways.” He inserted the tape into the helicopter’s radio. He bobbed his head to the beat, singing to himself. His voice sounded muffled, the chatter over the radio began to sound more distant and then eventually, nonexistent. The only sound she could truly make out was the lyrics to the song Sims had played.

I see the bad moon a-risin' I see trouble on the way I see earthquakes and lightnin' I see bad times today

She felt sick, nauseous, the sound of the music only worsening the deep pit that began to build in her stomach, she began to sweat, hyperventilate, her vision became blurry, all the colors merging with the blinding light of the rising sun until-

__

Present Day

“Shit.” An indiscernible voice cursed, and with that, she felt a sharp jab on some unidentifiable place on her body and all faded into darkness again.

__

January 12th, 1968

“You all sitting comfortably?” Adler’s voice quirked up over the radio.

“Why do I feel like you’re about to tell us some bad news?” Bell quipped, noting how her palms were no longer sweaty the way they were just a second ago, calm had overcome her senses once more as she glanced around her. No one seemed to notice her little episode. Good.

“Because you’re a smart girl, Bell. But the news isn't bad. In fact it could be very, very good. The asset at Ripcord is gonna have to wait a little while. We're breaking off from the armada. Taking a detour.” 

Sims raised his eyebrows at this new development. “And... that's good because?”

“A source tipped us off that there may be a heavy hitter from town, a Soviet operative known as Perseus.” 

Bell’s head began to hurt again, the pain teetering on intolerable but she attempted to ignore it for the moment. However, the pain seemed to get worse and worse the more she tried not to think about it, and once again, her vision became blurry and all colors became one again.

“First time Perseus pinged our radar…”

__

Present Day

Bell found herself back in bed, the overhead light shining directly into her eyes again with a pounding headache to boot. She tentatively lifted her head and rolled onto her side, confused as to how she even ended up here. One moment, she was smoking with Adler and the next she was here. 

“Oh God…” She groaned painfully, grabbing the water bottle that had been left on the table adjacent to her bed, gulping down nearly half the bottle in one go. 

After she had come to, she began to hear the muffled voices from outside the door, although most of what they were saying was unintelligible, she managed to make out some words and phrases.

“...too much…”

“...resistance…try again soon” 

“...need something to…won’t be happy…” 

Bell couldn’t make out anymore, and the pounding in her skull overpowered her curiosity and she laid back down. She closed her eyes, yearning to let sleep take over her body once more when the door opened, Park and Adler walked in, both staring at her.

Adler’s eyes were of course, unreadable through his signature sunglasses but his expression was set into that of frustration, while Park’s seemed more confused than anything, her brow furrowed as if she was working out some complicated problem in her head.

“How are you feeling, Bell?” Park asked clinically. 

“Like I got hit by a bus.” She whined, Park nodded in assent as she scribbled something in a notebook.

“That’s to be expected.” Park replied, not looking up from what she was writing. Adler cleared his throat as he sat at the foot of the bed, beckoning Park to put the pen down. “Forgive me, I’ve just been documenting the recovery of your memories.” She smiled. “I have a vested interest in your case, seeing as the methods we are using to help you remember are relatively new and-”

“Cut to the chase, Park.” Adler interrupted, and Park sighed in frustration at his impatience. 

“The exercise we attempted tonight wasn’t as successful as we had hoped.” Park explained, reaching into her pocket to hand Bell two blue-colored pills. “For your head, love. You had some kind of reaction at the mention of Perseus during recollection that disrupted the hypnotic state. Pitiful thing, really. Your subconscious must have fairly negative feelings regarding your time spent with Adler in Vietnam.”

“That makes two of us, Bell.” Adler commented, the distaste evident in his tone as he stared off. “Not my favorite time to remember either.”

“Well, I do believe recollection can still be therapeutic for Bell and is essential to the task at hand. Get some sleep Bell, we’ll pick up where we left off in the morning,”  Park gave a courteous smile and left the small, sorry excuse for a room, closing the door behind her. Silence hung in the air for a moment as Bell and Adler were left alone.

“I’m counting on you, Bell. Get some good sleep, need ya sharp for this.” Adler broke the silence, standing from where he sat and heading for the door as well. As he turned the handle, he looked back towards Bell. “Remember, we’ve got a job to do.”

As she fell back asleep, the lyrics for the rest of that song tauntingly played again and again in her head. 

Hope you got your things together Hope you are quite prepared to die Looks like we're in for nasty weather One eye is taken for an eye

Tags: @mayasnowforest @kult6 -- I know you guys asked to be tagged like two years ago, but here y'all are <3

[layce2015]

The Boys (Soldier Boy x Female!Supe!Reader)

Chapter 2: The Only Man In The Sky

Chapter 1/ Next Chapter

"You sure you wanna go see her?" Bethany asked me after I called her on the phone the next day. "Not really but...it must be important if she's contacting me." I said. "I'm not sure if I like it." Bethany said and I giggled. "I'll be okay, Mom." I laughed, sarcastically. "Hey, I know you can handle yourself but...I still worry." Bethany said. "I appreciate it." I said as I pace along the living room.

*3rd Person POV*

M.M. hears a knocking at his door and he goes to answer it. He opens it and sees Butcher standing there, his hands behind his back, and he lets out a sigh. “All right, mate?” Butcher asked him and Janine, M.M.’s daughter comes up next to her father. “Bloody hell, Janine. You shot up. You remember your Uncle Billy, don't you?” He asked and the girl stares at him before nodding, slightly.

”Here. I got this for you.” Butcher said as he pulls out a box of a Lego set of Vought tower. “You and your dad can build it together. 523 pieces of family fun.” Butcher said and M.M. glares at him.

Later, Janine starts on working on the Lego set while Butcher and M.M. talk. “Okay, one, you don't just pop up here. You call first. And, two, eff Soldier Boy. I don't give a mothereffin' doo-doo how he checked out.” M.M. argued. “Ah, bollocks. He didn't die like no hero. I'll wager he went out on his knees, begging like a right cսոt.” Butcher said. “What the f...” M.M. grumbles then he exhales a she gesture to his daughter, who heard them. “Sorry, love.” Butcher tells her then he continues to talk, quietly.

”Look, if there's a weapon out there that killed Soldier Boy, then it can kill Homelander. And that's got to be worth something. Now, we're working our way through his old team. Frenchie and Kimiko are starting with the Crimson Countess, and I'm gonna hit up Gunpowder and Mystic Shade.” Butcher said. “Sounds like you got everything covered.” M.M. said. “This ain't just anyone. It's Soldier Boy. You could close the book on him once and for all. For your dad. Your family.” Butcher said.

”Fuck off with that shit.” M.M. growls then he starts to breath, heavily, before he continues. “My father died hunched over a desk, obsessing over a dead man, while he was ignoring his two living children. And I almost did the same thing to her.” M.M. said as he gestures to his daughter and Butcher looks over at her then back at his old friend.

”Thanks for coming by.” M.M. said and Butcher sighs. “You're doing a bang-up job with her, mate.” Butcher said and he goes to leave but then M.M. sighs. “Butcher, hold on a second. I might have one thing.” He said then he goes to his room and into his closet and pulls out a file that his father had on Soldier Boy.

Meanwhile, (y/n) and Bethany enter Voughtland and see all the kids running around, laughing and screaming, as their parents try to keep up with them or buy them the overpriced food and merchandise. “It’s crazy here.” Bethany said as her and (y/n), who was wearing jeans and a hoodie with the hood up, walk along the park. “Yeah, Vought has gone more chaotic with The Seven than they did with Payback.” (Y/n) mutters as they walk. 

“You jealous?” Bethany asked her and (y/n) scoffs. “Fuck no.” She said and Bethany laughs as they go to the theater, where there was a poster that advertised the showing of Soldier Boy’s life. (Y/n) stops and stares at it as a memory pops up in her head.

Flashback

*(y/n)’s POV*

It had been months since Ben and I were sent overseas with the army to help out what we could. But we also did some film and photography for Vought as they brought a filmmaker and a photographer to get us to recreate certain moments of the war. And in between those moments or fights, Ben and I got to know each other a bit better. He was a bit cocky and full of himself and a bit rude but…he had this charm about him that I was attracted to.

And now the war was finally over and all the surviving troops were celebrating as was everyone around the world. Ben and I were sitting at the busy bar as the troops were cheering, laughing, singing and talking loudly as they all drink copious amount of beer.

I smiled at the scene, feeling relieved that this mess was all behind us. But I was also feeling dread as that meant I had to go back to my bastard of a husband. “You good?” Ben’s voice asked and I shake myself out of my thoughts and look over at him. “Yeah…just…” I laugh a bit softly. “Just still surprised that it is over.” 

“You don’t sound very thrilled about it.” Ben points out. “No, I’m happy it’s over. I just…” I then trail off. “You don’t want to go back home?” Ben asked me and I sighed. “Is it that obvious?” I asked him. “Yeah…” he said and I turn my head to look at him. “You know, we’ve been getting to know each other these last few months and you still haven’t told me about…Adam, was it?” Ben asked and I sighed as I take another long sip of my beer.

”Well, I’m sure you know my backstory is a load of garbage. I wasn’t born with these powers…they were forced upon me.” I explained as Ben listens to me. “My darling husband…” I sneered before I continued. “…he faked a doctor’s appointment for me when really it was for me to get a shot of Compound V and get these powers.”

Ben’s eyes widen at this then it furrows in anger. “He what?” He asked me and I scoff out a small laugh at this. “Yeah, right ol’ bastard. I wanted to divorce him when I found out but…” I stopped then take another drink. “He basically told me I couldn’t do that, be it would ruin my career before it even began.” I added and Ben did look angry after I explained.

”That son of a bitch. I should go have a word with him when we get back.” Ben said and I place a hand on his arm. “No, don’t.” I plead to him. “Why?” He asked me. “I’ve seen what happens when you have a word with people. It would just make everything worse. Besides, I don’t want to put you in any trouble.” I said and Ben raise an eyebrow at me.

“Look, let’s just enjoy this night and not worry about my failing marriage.” I said and he gives me this look then sighs. “Fine.” He mutters as he takes a sip of his beer. The rest of the night went uneventful as we enjoyed the party until it was time to get ready to head back home.

But once we got home and saw the press just swarming the airport to mainly get to me and Ben, Ben did something I was not expecting. Once we got off the plane, we waved at the press as they took many pictures and the people from the news report came out to film us. Then Ben turns to me, takes my chin to make me look at him then kissed me right there in front of God and everyone.

I hear the crowd go absolutely crazy but I was too stunned and shocked at what just happened and what is happening. And the terrible thing is I didn’t want it to end, this was honestly the best kiss I’ve ever had in my life. And even though there was a part of my mind that was screaming at me to tell Ben to stop, to push him away, I couldn’t bring myself to do that.

So, I kissed him back and I could tell that is what he wanted me to do as I feel his lips curl up into a smile as we continued to kiss. Moments later, we break the kiss and I felt breathless once his lips were away from mine and I raise my eyes to look at him and he gives me that damn flirty grin I’ve come to like so much.

”Maybe that’ll help with your little problem.” He mutters to me before he winks then turns to the crowd as he puts an arm around my shoulders and waves at them. I stood there and I’m sure I just looked mystified and confused because my mind was running for miles as I realized what he just did.

And I don’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing.

“What the hell is this?!” Adam asked me as he holds up the paper the next morning. “What’s what?” I asked him. I was sitting at the table in the little kitchen area of my room at Vought Tower and Adam just came in after going out to get the paper. He slams the paper down on the table in front of me and the first thing I saw was a photo of me and Ben kissing. And the title reading: America’s Newest Sweethearts?

”How long?” Adam asked me, angrily. “How long what?” I asked him. “Don’t play dumb! Now, tell me the truth, how long have you been fucking him behind my back?!” Adam asked me and I stare at him, stunned. “Are you crazy?! I mean, is that what you actually think of me?!” I asked him then he slams his hands on the table again.

”I’ve seen the way you look at him! And I know you’re still angry with me for what I did but I never thought you’d go this low!” He yells. “Because I wouldn’t! That kiss was something Ben came up all on his own. I didn’t expect it!” I argued. “And yet, from what I heard, you didn’t reject it!” Adam shouted and I glared at him.

“It’s just a publicity stunt! To make the people go crazy, okay! It’s for the money, get over it!” I spat at him and he looks at me surprised. “Are you serious?” He asked me. “What? I thought this was what you wanted. Me being a Supe to make money for us. You know how Vought works. They’ll do anything to gain the public’s approval.” I sneered and he huffs at me.

Then he turns and starts to walk out. “Where the hell you going?” I asked him. “Out.” Adam growls as he slams the door and I scoff.

*3rd Person POV*

Ben was walking towards his room in Vought Tower, seething with anger. He had just been to see his father and showed off him being the hero. But he didn’t get the hero’s welcome he expected from his father. His father told him he wasn’t a real man, that he took a shortcut and told him he was a disappointment, probably one of the worst things a father could say to their child.

He heard a door slam but he ignored it as he makes it to the door of his room. He goes to unlock the door when he heard stomping footsteps then a voice calls out to him, in an angry tone. “You!” The voice said and Ben shuts his eyes for a moment, really not in the mood to deal with anyone.

”Look, Buddy…” Ben started to say as he looks over and sees it is Adam that is coming towards him. Adam then grabs him by the collar of his shirt then slams him up against the wall. “You son of a bitch! You think you can take her away from me!” Adam shouts at Ben. “I’m only gonna say this once, cocksucker. If you still want your teeth, then I suggest you let go and back away from me.” Ben threatens, in a low calm voice. 

But Adam wasn’t having it. “What gives you the right to kiss (y/n) when you know she’s my wife?!” Adam asked him. “You could have any woman you want, but you go and kiss her! You can’t have (y/n), she’s mine!” 

“You know what I think? I think a piece of shit like you doesn’t deserve a woman like (y/n)!” Ben growls as the sound of a door opening was heard. “And you do?!” Adam asked as hurried footsteps come up and Ben grabs Adam’s hands and shoves him towards the other side of the hall.

”Boys, stop!” (Y/n)’s voice shrieks as she gets in between the boys. Ben was about to walk towards Adam, who continued to glare at him, but (y/n) turns to Ben. “Ben, Ben, Ben….hey, hey, look at me…look at me…” she said as Ben death stared at Adam but then he looks over at (y/n).

For some weird reason, just looking at her calmed him down a little as she places her hands on his shoulder. “Ben? Since when were you two on a first name basis?” Adam asked (y/n), upset, and she turns to face him. “What does that matter? Just be grateful I’m not letting him beat you to a pulp right now!” She exclaims as she glares at her husband. The two stare at each other for a few silence moments before Adam sighs.

”You know what, (y/n)? You’re gonna get your wish.” Adam said then he walks off and (y/n) lets out a sigh before she turns to Ben, who is about to enter his room. “Ben, I am so sorry…” she started to say but Ben shakes his head. “I’m not trying to be an asshole but I really don’t want to talk right now, (y/n).” Ben grumbles and he enters his room and shuts the door.

(y/n) frowns at this as her heart felt broken then she makes her way back to her room. She shuts the door and started to burst into tears, letting out the emotions she didn’t know she was holding in. She wipes her eyes then looks over at the cabinet that held some bourbon.

She normally doesn’t drink a lot but the whole bottle of bourbon was sounding good right now. So she goes to the cabinet, grabs the bottle and begins to drink from it.

Present Day

(Y/n) continued to stare at the poster until Bethany comes up to her and places a hand on her arm. “(Y/n)?” She said and (y/n) pulls out of her thoughts and looks over at her friend. “You ready?” She asked and (y/n) sighs. “Not really…but let’s do it.” She said and they head inside the theater as does Frenchie and Kimiko.

They get inside and take a seat and Bethany pats her friend’s shoulder. “You sure you’re gonna be okay seeing this?” She asked (y/n). “I think so.” (Y/n) mutters, unsure. The lights start to dim and the screen comes on as it starts to play the film.

"Soldier Boy grew up in the birthplace of American liberty. Born poor on the mean streets of South Philadelphia, he learned the values of hard work, tenacity and bravery. He used those values to prove America's exceptionalism to the world." The narrator of the film said as it shows various pictures of Soldier Boy's life. Then it shows a clip of Soldier Boy in the trenches with the American soldiers.

"Okay, boys, let's give these Krauts some hell." Soldier Boy said and he leads the men on out into the battlefield. (Y/n) bites her lips as she remembers those days. "He and his partner, Mystic Shade, defended us against the encroaching Red Menace." The narrator said as it goes to another clip and shows Soldier Boy and (y/n) in the Congress, which takes (y/n) by surprise as she sees herself sitting next to Soldier Boy. "Congress, we have a list right here of avowed Communists." He said as he holds up a file.

"He helped guide America into a brighter future, and along the way, he found the love of a good woman..." the narrator said as it shows Soldier Boy and Mystic Shade, their arms around each other and a smile on their faces. (Y/n) lets out a heavy sigh and Bethany turns to her and places an arm around her. She gives her a concerned look but (y/n) nods, assuredly.

"...which made his sacrifice all the more noble, when he gave his life saving us from a nuclear holocaust." The narrator said as it shows a melted down nuclear power plant. Then the screen goes black. "Please join us in saluting Soldier Boy." The narrator said and there was scattered applause. 

Then a spotlight comes on and the screen slides up to reveal Crimson Countess walk out onto the stage and begins to sing. “Fuckin’ hell.” (Y/n) grumbles, annoyed.

When the night was dark

And the dawn was cold

From sea to shining sea and mountains' majesty 

He did it all For the red, white and the bold

'Cause he's America's son

As she sings, she brings her hands together and uses her power to shootout the red ball of energy she makes. It goes flying over head and the ball of energy explodes and engulfs the room in red light as Countess continues to sing.

A shining beacon of freedom

He's America's son

After the show, Countess was in her dressing room and was crushing up some pills as the door opens. "At your request, Countess." The voice of her manager said and Countess looks up at her mirror and sees the familiar face of her old partner. "Well, well, well, never thought I'd see you here, Misty." Countess said with a smile as (y/n) pulls back her hoodie.

"I mean, you're basically a recluse. Some people even think you're dead." Countess taunts as (y/n) glares at her. "What do you want, Crimson?" She asked as she folds her arms across her chest. Countess turns in her seat to look at her. "Can't I say hi to an old friend?" Countess asked. "You and I are nowhere near close enough to be considered friends." (Y/n) sneered and Countess gives a fake offended look.

"Oh, my dear, Misty...." Countess said, dramatically, and (y/n) rolled her eyes at this. She always hated it when Countess called her this name, it irritated her to no end which she figured that's why Countess does that. "Are you still mad that Ben and I dated?" Countess asked her. "I don't know...you mad that he dumped you to get back together with me?" (Y/n) asked, snarky, and Countess drops the act.

"No, actually. I really don't give a fuck." Countess said as she goes back to her table then starts to inhale some of the crushed up pills she made. "But I will say one good thing about him, he was great in the sack." Countess said and (y/n) rolls her eyes.

"Why the hell am I here, Countess?" (Y/n) asked and Countess turns to her. "Well, seems like that whole Girls Get It Done shit has been a big deal lately. And I figured maybe get us girls back together from the old team." Crimson said and (y/n) glares at her.

"You know, you, me and Tessa. We could show those bitches in The Seven who the real female heroes are." Crimson said and (y/n) shakes her head. "Not just no but fuck no!" (Y/n) said and Crimson was taken aback. "Well, why not? I mean, clearly you're not doing anything! Tessa and Thomas are apparently gonna host Herogasm here in a few days and of course I've had a music career." Crimson said. "And I like it that way. I got out of Payback for a reason, Countess!" (Y/n) shouts.

"Yeah because you were becoming a washed up Supe and Ben isn't around to fuck you senseless like the dirty whore you really are!" Crimson accused and (y/n) snaps as she waves her hand and Crimson goes flying back and hits the wall, hard. (Y/n) starts to breath heavily as she glares daggers at her old partner until she looks down at her hand, which was shaking.

"You can never even begin to THINK what I've been through the last forty years!" (Y/n) growls as she glares at Crimson, who gets up. "Oh boo-hoo, you're boyfriend died and now you live all alone in some farmhouse in Kansas. Get the fuck over yourself, Misty." Crimson sneers. "Fuck you!" (Y/n) spat and the two women continue to glare at each other before (y/n) turns and heads for the door.

"Go fuck a chimp, Crimson." (Y/n) spat and she slams the door behind her, puts her hood up and walks out of the room and down the hall, passing by Frenchie and Kimiko as they get ready for their visit with Crimson Countess.

After dusting herself off of the confrontation,  Countess goes to sit by her dressing table and gathers up more pills and crushes them. "Next!" Countess shouts as she goes to snort up the crushed up drugs and exhales as the door opens, Kimiko and Frenchie enter her room. "You seem a little old for the Countess Tea Package." Countess said once she looks up and notices them. "We're young at heart." Frenchie said as Kimiko comes up to Countess and holds up her phone to show her what she typed.

I like your music

"Oh, sweetie. Can't you talk?" Countess asked Kimiko after she read her message. Kimiko shakes her head, shyly, and Countess smiles at her. "Would you like to hear something new?" She asked her and Kimiko nods. "Okay." Countess said and she leads Kimiko to her laptop to bring up a music video while Frenchie is looking around the room.

Chimps don't cry

No, chimps

Don't cry... 

"You know that chimps are physically incapable of crying? But that doesn't mean they're not crying on the inside." Countess said, dramatically, and she goes to look at the video while Kimiko turns to Frenchie and begins to sign language to him.

She's nice.

She's nuts! 

No, she's not.

Let's get it over with!

Fine.

Kimiko then turns to Countess and grabs her. "Wh-What are you..." Countess shouts when Kimiko slams her up against the wall. "Wh-What are you...Ow!" Countess screams as Kimiko hits her. "Don't let her hands touch!" Frenchie shouts and Kimiko separates Countess' hands. "Ow! Let go of me, you bitch." Countess shouts as Frenchie comes up next to her while Kimiko holds her up against the wall.

"No fireball if your hands don't touch, oui? You stay quiet and relax. She will hurt you." Frenchie tells her. "What do you want?" Countess asked him. "We want to know about Soldier Boy." Frenchie said. "What the fսck do you care about Soldier Boy?" Countess asked, confused. "We want the truth about Soldier Boy, not the merde you've been giving us in your appalling show. How did he die? Who killed him? Talk." Frenchie demands.

"The show is the truth, mοthеrfսckеr." Countess said as there was another knock and the door opens as a kid and her parents come in. "He died a hero." Countess tells them just as they hear the family coming in.

Seizing the opportunity, Countess knocks Kimiko off of her then runs out of the room. Frenchie and Kimiko then chase after her as she runs out of the building and out into the park.

Countess shoves people out of the way then turns around to see Frenchie and Kimiko still gaining up on her. She stops, brings her hands together and shoots her fireball at the duo but they duck and the fireball hits the man in the Homelander costume, making blood and guts explode everywhere.

People and children began to scream but with some of the people near the mascot were protected by a force field. Frenchie and Kimiko jumped back at this as kids and adults scream, cry and run as does Countess.

Frenchie turns around and sees the white hoodie woman again, her arms were stuck out in front of her. They share a look before the woman lowers her arms and runs the opposite direction and it suddenly clicked with him who she was. "Putain de merde! That was Mystic Shade!" Frenchie said as Kimiko looks in time to see the woman run then signs at him.

Should we go after her?

"Butcher said he was gonna deal with her." Frenchie said as he takes her arm and Kimiko looks around to see a few kids still looking frighten and distraught at the man in the Homelander mascot costume, or what was left of him, before she and Frenchie leave the park.

*(y/n)’s POV*

Bethany pulls up to my house as I sigh. “You okay?” She asked me, for what had to be the hundredth time. “Yes, I’m fine. Just…wasn’t expecting any of that.” I said. “It looked like she was attacking those two people. Did you see them?” Bethany asked me and I nod.

“But I don’t know why. That’s what’s bugging me.” I said as I think. “Well, I’ll talk to you later.” I said as I get out of her car. “Okay…” Bethany said as I shut her car door and head into my house.

I entered the house and give a sigh of relief before I head to the kitchen. “You have a lovely house.” A male voice, with a cockney accent, greets and I jumped a bit to see a man with black hair, a beard, jeans, black shirt and a long black leather jacket, sitting at my kitchen table.

”Who the hell are you?” I asked him, angrily. “Billy Butcher, love.” He introduces as he nods to me and I realized this is the man that Maeve told me she was working with on capturing out of control Supes. “I just thought I’d pop by and ask you a few questions.” Butcher asked me as I go over to my liquor cabinet and take out a bottle of whiskey.

”I thought I told Maeve that I didn’t want to be bothered.” I said with a growl as I grab a couple of glasses. “She did tell me that but…I thought different.” Butcher tells me and I glare over at him. “So, from what I understand, you and Soldier Boy were close, right?” Butcher asked me and I begin to pour a glass of whiskey. “Okay, to save you time, yes, Soldier Boy and I were a thing. We had been on and off through out the years. In hindsight, we kept breaking up because of just stupid petty stuff but he would always find a way to win me back. Anything else you want me to answer, re-read that file I gave to Maeve.” I tell him.

”Well, before I go, there’s something I want you to elaborate on.” He said and I sighed, realizing this man is not gonna leave, and I pick up the second glass. “Would you like a drink?” I asked him as I hold up the whiskey bottle. “Oh, how very courteous of you.” Butcher said, in a bit of a surprised tone.

”Just being a good host, even if you were a surprise guest.” I said as I pour him a drink. Then I pick up my glass and his glass and I walk over to the table and hand him his glass. “Thank you.” He said and he takes a sip.

”Maeve’s told me about your rivalry with Homelander and how you think all Supes are bad. But I will tell you this, Mr Butcher, not all of us are like Homelander. I know you don’t want to hear it but it’s the truth. All I want is to live a normal life and put that life behind me.” I said and Butcher rolls his eyes towards the ceiling. “I appreciate your honesty, but it’s the actions of many of those cunts against your word that makes it hard to believe you.” He replied.

”Believe whatever you want, Mr Butcher. As for me, all I want is to be left alone.” I said, taking a sip of my whiskey. “You know I visited your old teammate, Gunpowder.” Butcher said and I lowered my glass, glaring at him. “And let’s just say, things didn’t go well.” Butcher said and I feel my heart sink. “Did you kill him?” I asked him and he nods.

I gasped and closed my eyes as I turn my head away. “Not the response I expected…” Butcher said and I turned back to him. “He was a kid when he joined the team. Poor boy.” I said, sadly. “Huh? See, I heard you didn’t really like any of your teammates.” Butcher said. “Yes, some of them I didn’t get along with but Gunpowder was just an eager kid, trying to prove himself. I looked after him, made sure he didn’t fall down the same rabbit hole a lot of young Supes do.” I said. 

“And yet, he put in a complaint about Soldier Boy’s abuse.” Butcher tells me. “I did the best I could with Soldier Boy. He would get in a few hits on Gunpowder but I always intervened if I saw he was about to go overboard.” I said as Butcher takes a swig at his drink.

”And did he ever abuse you?” He asked me. “No! He never did.” I replied, firmly. There was a long bit of silence between us before I go back to my drink. “Look, all I want to know is what happened to him? How did he die? Because I know that crap Vought pushed out is a load of bullocks.” Butcher said and I sighed.

”If I tell you what I know, will you leave me alone?” I asked him and Butcher stares at me then nods. “I don’t know what killed him. I was knocked out and when I came to, the others told me he was killed. We were in Nicaragua, '84, working with the CIA.” I said and Butcher furrowed his brow. “CIA?” He said, confused, and I nodded. “Who was the case officer?” Butcher asked me and I had to think. “Oh, fuck, what was her name….uh, Grace? Uh, Grace...Grace Mallory, that’s it!” I said, snapped my finger, and Butcher looked surprised by this.

”Judging by the look on your face, I’m guessing you know her?” I asked him. “Yes, yes, I do.” He said, determined, and he gets up from his chair. “Thank you for the drink and the talk. As promised, I will leave you be.” Butcher said and he leaves the kitchen then walks out the front door of my house.

I let out a sigh of relief and run my hands over my eyes. “What a fucking day.” I grumbled.

That night, I was cleaning up Ben’s old shield as I had the TV playing, which is broadcasting Homelander’s birthday. I didn’t really give a shit but I needed something playing in the background. “So let's give it up for Starlight and the man of the hour himself, Homelander!” A-Train said, who was wearing this colorful version of his old suit. I guess from the colors he is representing Africa; which from what Maeve told me about him, he is the last person to do something like this.

Music plays and cheers were heard as Starlight and Homelander go on stage as Homelander and A-Train shake hands then he leaves. “Wow, I'm so honored to be with you guys tonight to celebrate my dear friend and mentor Homelander. I'm here to do more than wish you a happy birthday, though. I'm thrilled to be announcing a project that is near and dear to my heart.” Starlight said and I snort as her saying Homelander is her mentor.

Yeah, I bet he is. I thought as I finished polishing the shield then look up at the TV.  “The Starlight House is a nonprofit foundation dedicated to helping homeless and at-risk youth.” Starlight starts to explain until a voice shouts. “Hey, Homelander! Your Nazi died!”

”Well, damn.” I muttered as the crowd murmurs. “Homelander...He's just, he's a human. He's just like the rest of us. And we all make mistakes, right? But we all deserve second chances. In that spirit, Homelander has agreed to donate $10 million...” Starlight said then she laughs softly. “…to the Starlight House, which is, I mean...” she said and there was applause then Homelander says. “No.”

”Give...Come on. Give it up.” Starlight said as Homelander shakes his head. “No.” He said. “Give it up for this guy.” Starlight said as she was trying to control the situation but Homelander looked like he was done. “No. No. No.” Homelander said and the applause stops and the crowd goes quiet. “Starlight lied to you just now. She did. I don't make mistakes. I'm not just like the rest of you. I'm stronger. I'm smarter. I'm better. I am better. I'm not some weak-kneed fսcking crybaby that goes around fսcking apologizing all the time. And why the fսck would you want me to be?” Homelander said then he looks straight at the camera.

“Don't you dare stop rolling, Roger!” He shouts and I just couldn’t believe what I was seeing. This man is losing his mind. “All my life, people have tried to control me. My whole life. Rich people, powerful people have tried to muzzle me, cancel me, keep me impotent and obedient, like I'm a fսcking puppet. You know what? It worked. Because I allowed it to work. And guess what? If they can control me, then you can bet your ass they can control you. They already do. You just don't realize it.” Homelander said and I nod a bit as I was kinda agreeing with him there.

”I'm done. I am done apologizing. I am done being persecuted for my strength. You people should be thanking Christ that I am who and what I am, because you need me. You need me to save you. You do. I am the only one who possibly can. You're not the real heroes. I'm the real hero. I'm the real hero.” He said and the whole place stays silent and I shake my head. “And you lost me, crazy asshole.” I muttered and I shut my TV off.

@winchestergirl1720 @deans-spinster-witch @mimaria420 @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @kitsun369 @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @deangirl96 @demodemo909

[halobirthdays]

Happy birthday to The Weapon!

Today is her -536th birthday!

When Catherine Halsey flash-cloned herself to use her brain as the blueprint for an AI, she made multiple copies, kept in a sealed lab under CASTLE base on Reach. When Reach fell, she abandoned the copies until the rise of Cortana and the Created forced her to send Blue Team back to retrieve them.

Halsey used an extra clone to make an exact copy of Cortana, one that could mimic her and infiltrate her defenses on Zeto Halo. That copy would become the Weapon, created to contain Cortana for retrieveal and destruction by Master Chief. Key information about her origin and the mission were kept from her to prevent corruption. Once her mission was complete, she would automatically be deleted.

The Weapon was deployed just as the Banished attacked the UNSC Infinity. She was able to find and isolate Cortana, believing that the mission was complete after Cortana was destroyed. In reality, Cortana self-destructed after she came to regret her actions, stopping Atriox from taking control of the ring. However, she was also able to infiltrate the Weapon without her knowledge, deactivating her deletion programming. In this way, Cortana hoped that the Weapon would take her place. The Weapon, unsure why she was still alive, waited to be retrieved.

Six months later, she was discovered by Master Chief, who also did not know why she was active, but chose to keep her functioning. She accompanied him on Zeta Halo, providing intel and helping piece together the previous six months while also combating the Banished presence on the ring.

Despite her enthusiasm and naiveté, Chief struggled to trust her, still wary after the loss of Cortana. Along the way, they recovered old data clusters left by Cortana and eventually the Weapon realized that she was an exact copy. Having seen the atrocities that Cortana committed, the Weapon understood Chief's reticence to trust her and asked to be destroyed. Instead, Master Chief once again refused to delete her and decided to keep her active as he faces old and new dangers and learns to trust his new companions.

In canon (~2560), she is turning 1!

[itsbasil]

Okay I guess we're talking about one of my many alphabet team blorbos today

Rain

Rain (serial no. 62-09-32905)

she/her

At the size Alphabet Team and its parent PMC has reached, it helps to have a Spartan on board who excels at being more than just a weapon. Rain is a decisive, selfless, and dedicated leader, brought on board Alphabet Team as an external hire for her well-known leadership skills and mastery of small-team tactics. She's part of the "glue" Nyotatu-Lanhu is betting on to hold Alphabet Team together, turning them from a messy gang of rowdy corporate supersoldiers into a cohesive, hyper-competent titan of a team.

More than anything, Rain is defined by a tremendous sense of responsibility for those who choose to trust her. No matter the teammate, no matter the cost to herself, she takes it upon herself to get everyone out the other side in one piece. She's often the first to stand up for her teammates and the last one to back down; she wants her teammates to do their best, and she's well aware of how infectious her confidence can be.

Rain's status as a near-archetypal leader figure gives some people the idea that being a stoic, steely-eyed weapon is a full-time job she never clocks out of, so it's a surprise to many regular personnel just how much she likes to smile. Being among the more pragmatic and composed members of Alphabet Team doesn't stop Rain from being an affectionate ball of charisma around her friends; those close to her know to expect little shoulder punches and endearingly bad jokes from her when she's in a good mood, and the team's jokesters know she has enough sarcasm and dry wit to go toe to toe with any of them. As seriously as she takes being a leader, letting her hair down a little is something she will still allow herself when she can. It's the least she can do to take the edge off.

On the flip side, she takes her self-assigned responsibilities very seriously, and can come across as a hardass to the rest of Alphabet Team when they take what she sees as unnecessary risks. Her teammates don't seem to mind this, though; the more she does it, the more it's obvious she does it because she cares about them, and that care clearly runs a lot deeper than Rain is comfortable letting on. Like most other corporate Spartans, Rain has a hard time keeping her emotions under wraps, and even with her helmet on it's hard for her to hide what she's feeling.

Uncommonly among corporate Spartans, Rain's sense of duty to keep those around her safe extends to baseline humans; it doesn't matter if she's leading a fireteam of fellow Spartans or ordinary personnel, she remains just as selfless and supportive a teammate as ever. This has earned her a glowing reputation among the PMCs she's worked with, with Nyotatu-Lanhu's SPECWAR division adopting her as their unofficial mascot.

This popularity has always been a double-edged sword for Rain: she's deeply appreciative of the trust regular personnel place in her over other Spartans she sees as equally capable, but being surrounded by them quickly reminds her that she's just that– a Spartan– and is terribly out of her depth as anything other than a tactical asset to ordinary people. Her sociability falls apart in "normal" social situations, and she often ends up slipping away to return to her team.

As terrific a leader as Rain is, however, the things that earned her that reputation are the things that worry her teammates the most. Keeping others safe, shouldering burdens others can't, these are what Rain is for, what she's always been for, it is what and who she is, and she cannot fathom being anything else. Every injured teammate, every KIA report, every dead friend and fireteam in her past twists the knife in her heart a little deeper, each one a failure she knows she could have prevented if she just pushed herself harder.

It eats at her. It weighs on her. The foundations have been cracking for a while now, but she can't allow herself to fail again, not with people she's starting to really care about. She needs to make sure everyone is safe. She'll make sure everyone lives, she'll make sure everyone gets to go home.

Even if it ends up killing her.

[xysidhequeen]

I know in your Red Knight AU, Jason when on the rampage in another realm, after finding out that Batman replace him with another Robin.

Did Danny manage to be there for him during that time?

He did! Danny was always there for Jason. He actually wanted to chase after Jason immediately, but luckily, the first thing he did was panic call Jazz, absolutely out of his mind. Jazz promptly told Danny to let Jason have some space for a little bit to process.

Which was for the best, really. Jason needed to not feel like he was trapped and that he could be angry. He never really got that before. But the most important thing is Danny came after him and brought him home. Jason needed to feel like he could be angry, but also, like his anger wouldn't mean he'd be punished or abandoned. It was a very delicate time for him, but Danny, Jazz, Sam, Tucker, and all our favorite ghosts made sure Jason knew he was very much wanted still. And that he was utterly irreplaceable.

Skulker handled this by breaking all of his weapons and suits overnight and saying he didn't know how to fix them. (Jason very much knew what he was doing, but the time spent on fixing things helped ground him)

Ember handled this by announcing that she couldn't possibly ever sing ever again unless her only other band member was there (Still very obvious, but music time with Ember usually devolved into very necessary crying time. A lot of ice cream was consumed)

Johnny and Kitty handled this by getting into a MASSIVE fight and refusing to speak to each other unless Jason mediated. (This actually was far less obvious, as the two tend to get into fights often. No one is actually certain if the fight was fake or not to this day, but they also haven't broken up once since and Jason is incredibly proud of that)

Fright Knight handled this by.... well, actually, he took the blunt approach and told Jason there was no one in any realm dead or alive he'd ever consider worthy to be his apprentice besides Jason. (This was highly effective as Frighty has always been bluntly honest with Jason. He didn't wholly believe it but it was a comfort. Frighty then beat his ass in a spar and he didn't think of much else)

Basically, everyone was there for Jason. Not just Danny. Jason was made to feel like his anger and hurt were valid, because they were. But he was also not just told, but shown how precious he was to every life he touched. He didn't get it, not at first and he struggled to really believe it.

It wasn't until later, after Danny opened up more about his own trauma and the effects it had on him that Jason actually began to somewhat understand more of what Jazz meant when she said Danny was getting better. He pieced more of the story together from the others to paint a better picture, and that's when it clicked for him. As much as he needed Danny, Danny had needed him just as much. (Clockwork may have had a hand in this as well, but whatever those two talked about, no one will ever know)

Also, as an aside, once everything calmed down, Danny was very pleased to learn the rebelling realm was now back under control and quite terrified of the Ghost King and his Knight. It saved him so much paperwork.

So yeah, this was a bit all over the place, but hopefully, it answers your question. Team Phantom and the ghosts are basically a very large family, and they might fight and bicker, but they seriously pull through and muster together if anyone is hurting. They're a bit clumsy sometimes with it, but the love they all feel is very obvious. I really, really wanted to give Jason a much more healthy origin story into becoming Red Hood than he got in canon. The poor boy went through enough. It was past time for him to get to heal.

Jason still has some hangups. His abandonment issues are still there, and his fear of rejection. But it's not as bad as it was, and because he'd been allowed to express his anger without being punished(or enabled, anger is a fine emotion to feel. But you should never let it consume you) for it, he figured out how to manage it.

He might still slip now, and then, he has trauma, and that won't go away. But Danny will never, ever let him fall. Neither will the rest of the weird little eclectic family they've built.