#cam is... covered in blood. often. she's my little guy

[daisychainsandbowties]

a light, or a blessing, or a bruise

the Dishonored au

chapter 1: rot? or wildflowers?

Rating: M

words: 4k

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The first time the Outsider appears in her dreams, Camila remembers nothing but her eyes.

Perhaps her hands, too, though it is not possible that the Voice of the Void touched her. That she would want to, or that she would dare.

She is there, the first time, on the night they take her arm.

There is chaos in the Dust District, as Camila treads along gutter pipes and slips past darkened windows.

It is the quiet kind; the panic of a people who are used to closing their mouths or choking on the dust in the air. Camila races above it all, touching the edge of each rooftop before vaulting across, catching the far ledge with her fingers or the crook of her elbow, fetching softly up against the fraying bricks. She climbs the scaffolds hand-over-hand, disturbing discarded tools in her haste.

They are building some great contraption over the district - metal fanning high overhead as ungraceful as a snake.

Beneath it the district itself is a jumble of close-knit streets that jut up out of the sea. It reminds Camila of nothing so much as a whale carcass when it is almost stripped of meat; the great curve of its rib bones, the stiff knobs of its spine, the scent of pain past endurance. The echo of a song.

It is a place all stripped of flesh, bare and gaunt against the endless moan of wind whipping through the narrow streets, folding past the drapes that the residents put against their windows to keep the dust out. They cannot afford glass, but the cloth is a poor substitute, and so there is dust in the water and in their beds and in every word of every sentence they speak.  

The Grand Guard are everywhere; an oil-slick of blue coats and bared steel.

Camila kills four of them before she gets close to Stilton’s Manor, cupped as it is in the heart of the district, and by the time she sees the great vault door, propped open and surrounded by a fan-shape of red-coated men and women, she has blood up to her elbows and dust stuck in between her teeth.

She drops from the fifth storey of a tenement building, slipping down vent-shafts, cutting her fingers on drainpipes, slapping onto the pavement with the easy grace of a talent honed over two decades.

Her knee twinges after the final five-metre drop, but it’s the knee that Daud - Suzanne - kicked almost clean through when she and her Whalers caught up to Camila, after she betrayed them all to the Overseers. It was the culmination of all her ambitions. It was the worst day of her life.

She stayed and watched as the Overseers poured into the Flooded District, as they died on the bridge-crossing, as they played their soft, strange music, which made the bones inside of Camila’s body twitch and twinge, as though longing to make themselves into instruments.

She was glad when they caught her. Glad when Suzanne pressed her blade up against her carotid, angling to slash the artery and the windpipe and leave her head hanging on by threads and sinew and the stem of her spine. Death was her inheritance, one way or another, and it made sense to her that, having been raised as a blade, she would die on the end of one.

But then the Knife of Dunwall let her go. Let her walk free, and it was worse than all the death sentences in the world.

Her knee is a reminder. A foolish one, now, when she is about to make another mistake.

Her pistol is slippery in her grip as Camila steps lightly along the alley, keeping to the deep shadows where rats flit underneath her feet. She should be afraid of them, but they are mostly the white ones, whose bones glow faintly blue when they are split open. They like her, she thinks. One day she will pay for thinking so, probably, but if there are enough of them in that alley for a swarm they do not seem inclined towards it.

Maybe there’s too little meat on me, Camila thinks. It is true enough.

She stops in the hook of shadow that the building’s end throws down into the alley, folding her body into the angle of it. Suzanne taught her this - the geometry of concealment, knowing where and how and why a shadow will fall. Lessons laid out on little sheets of flimsy all strewn over the desk in that broken hotel, in the corner of the room with blueprints tacked onto the walls, whalebone relics singing from inside a locked chest, the bonecharms on Suzanne’s bandoleer whispering shyly to Camila as she worked on the puzzles.

Suzanne sketched them out for her in her haphazard hand. And it made Camila feel queer and clever to be doing mathematical things like translation, talking about vectors and rays and the visible spectrum of light.

That was the first place she learned of the Void, and the woman who lives there all alone.

The Outsider, the name soft-spoken, though all the other Whalers - save the skeleton crew needed to make their hideout safe - were away on their missions. Selling murder for coins, putting dead-drops along Suzanne’s likely routes, seeking rumours and hidden ways and all the secrets of Dunwall. There was a tilt to her hooded head, a puzzle on her mouth, as Suzanne leaned on the desk and said, I think she lets me see beyond the visible spectrum. Into ultraviolet where the wavelengths are short, and perhaps to infrared.

I don’t know what those are.

A pause and a decision before Suzanne said, It’s nothing.

So Camila did her sums and shut her mouth, but she remembers the lessons. She knows how to hide her body inside of shadows even if the Outsider has never spoken to her.

continue on Ao3

[soulmate-game]

Not related to any other prompts

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

Day 4: Habits

Not screwed~

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette swung through the Gotham streets, shadows playing over her maroon-and-black biker’s jacket and the occasional street light glinting off of the chunky maroon goggles she used to obscure her identity.

“Help!”

A quick change of course with her yo-yo, and the teen was hurtling in a new direction. One black-gloved hand came up to touch the spot on her specialized goggles that covered her ear, protecting it from not only weapons but also anything that might utilize sound against her.

“I’m deviating. Two streets to the north, woman yelling for help. Checking it out.”

It also doubled as her communicators.

A click sounded in her ear, admitting the professional, clipped voice of Oracle. “Copy that. I’m gonna see if I can get a look for you first— aha. Barely in view of a street cam. Looks legit, I can only see two aggressors though. Might be more out of sight. Sending Batman your way just in case, Ladybird.”

Marinette grinned, landing silently on a rooftop. As quickly yet quietly as she could, she snuck over to the ledge. “This is my first patrol with you guys, but I’m no amateur,” she retorted softly before peering over the edge of the building. Immediately, she scowled. “Shit. Trafficking ring, most likely. I’m counting eleven hostiles, five women tied up. They just knocked out the one that I heard.”

“Good thing I sent Batman. ETA three minutes.”

Marinette nodded, reaching up to turn the volume on her comms down so that it wouldn’t distract her too much before jumping down. Three minutes was enough time for her to start to make a dent without being in too much danger of something happening before her backup could arrive. Considering this was her first time in Gotham, nobody was quite expecting a tiny woman in a maroon and black motorcycle jacket, maroon high tech goggles that curled around her entire head, and knee-high black boots with charcoal gray armor down the front to land on their leader’s shoulder and knock him out with a yo-yo to the head.

But also, this was Gotham. They shouldn’t have been surprised, either.

Leader down, Marinette focused her attention on the guys that were the most heavily armed, bringing out a second yo-yo to speed up her progress. She was three thugs down and in the middle of swinging a rifle away from its owner when a familiar large shadow dropped down to join her.

The appearance of the Bat garnered much more fear, forcing the traffickers to panic and lose a lot of their combative edge. Seeing as Batman was fresher for the fight than she was, Marinette decided to take a pseudo-break to get the women a little farther from the action. She was just pulling the sixth girl, the one she had heard scream, over to the group when one of the few remaining conscious thugs snuck up behind her, gun aimed and finger on the trigger.

But Marinette was faster, having heard the guy scramble to get behind her. She spun, kicking the pistol out of his hand and grabbing it out of the air. Not having the time to grab her yo-yos from off of her hip, she adjusted her grip and slammed the handle of the gun against the guy’s head before tossing the weapon away. It was too much of a risk for misfire if she tried that move again, once was already risky. The guy shook his head, staggering back with nothing but rage and desperation fueling him as he tried again to land a hit on the small vigilante.

Marinette dodged, burying her fist in his gut. The man retched, but swallowed his vomit and tried again. Marinette sidestepped his sloppy attack and slammed an elbow on his back, forcing him to collapse to the ground. She could see he was still awake though, and scrambling for another weapon. So Ladybird raised her foot, prepared to give the guy one last hit to knock him out.

But she was yanked back by a firm hand on her shoulder, upsetting her balance just enough to make her put both feet solidly on the ground and half her attack. She whipped her head back, seeing that it was, indeed, Batman who had stopped her.

All the other thugs were out and restrained.

“Justice, not vengeance,” Batman grumbled as soon as she looked at him. Marinette barely bit back a squeak of frustration, ripping her shoulder away and slamming her foot down just in time to stop the guy from stabbing into her boot. The steel toe would have protected her, but still.

“Batman, he has a knife!” She growled right back at him, finally landing that kick and knocking him out. “I really appreciate that faith, you know. Thinking I’m gonna cross the line in such a simple situation,” she snapped back at him sarcastically, making sure he saw her furrowed brows even through her goggles before crouching down to tie the guy up with her zip ties.

“Sorry,” he grumbled after all the victims had been taken by the ambulance and the criminals by the police. They stood on a rooftop, ladybird staring down at the towering figure of Batman with her arms crossed. “It’s a habit.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” she replied, shaking her head. “I’m not Damian.”

Batman sighed, crossing his own arms. Unknowingly, that caused the two of them to be holding the exact same pose, down to the very position of shoulder blades and feet, as one another. Twins of differing height, to an outsider. A parent and his child, to anyone who was closer.

“I know that—“

“And Damian isn’t Damian Al-Ghul anymore either,” she interrupted him, finally dropping her arms to take a few steps forward. “He’s well and truly Damian Wayne. It’s been seven years since he was that abused, hurt, ultra-violent ten year old that he was when Talia first dropped him off with you. The fact that stopping him in mid fight like that is still a habit to you is a problem.”

Batman slowly exhaled through his nose, trying to remain patient with the daughter he had only had in his life for the past three years. He didn’t want to make the same mistakes with her that he made with the others, but just like always he somehow found something new to screw up.

“I haven’t had to say it to him often. Hardly at all in recent years. But seeing you looming over a man who was already on the ground brought back that reflex.”

Marinette nodded, but her jaw didn’t unclench. “It’s been more than a few times,” she told him softly. “Damian tells me, ever since we got closer. He tells me when you have to stop yourself from pulling him back. When you bark his name before seeing that he wasn’t going to use lethal force at all. You need to realize that Damian hasn’t taken a single life in six years. He hasn’t caused permanent injury unless absolutely necessary— a total of three times in twice as many years. You need to nip this habit of yours in the bud, now,” she took a few more steps forward, so that she was only inches away as she glared straight up at his face.

“We are both your blood children, but you have only apologized to me about the way you acted tonight. One day, your lack of trust in Damian could get him killed— again. You call out his name too early, and you could startle him or give his opponent the shock they need to make a sudden attack that Damian won’t be able to parry. You grabbing him and pulling him back can stop him from, like me, knocking out an opponent who is still fighting. Unlike me though, his opponent could have a gun. Or a remote to a worse weapon. He could use those seconds you just gave him to take Damian away from us again,” Marinette stopped, shaking her head and taking a deep breath.

“If you’re gonna have us work with you, you need to trust our judgement. If you want us to be a family, then you need to trust us. Period.” With that, Marinette jumped off the side of the building and swung away, leaving her father standing there with a lot to think about.

—*—*—*—*—*

Short, but angsty! I wrote this in an hour, don’t @ me. I took a thirty minute break for a late dinner.

@momothefemur @ladybug-182 @starlightshield @trippingovermyfeet @greatcatblaze @sam-i-am-0222 @bluesimani @ruelukas22 @acoolspacegirl @iamablinkmarvelarmy

[obsidiancreates]

Freezer Duty (Part Two)

"Okay, okay!" Cheyenne shouts. Everyone is gathered in the warehouse, shouting and holding money. "Guys, settle down! This is simple, okay? If you think Jonah is a vampire put your money in this stupid fedora-"

She holds up said Fedora, a hat that Jonah has tried many times to wear and has been relentlessly mocked for each and every time.

"-and if you think he isn't a vampire, put your money in this crazy big mug!" She holds up a novelty mug that says 'My hair is as slick as my moves'.

Bets are placed, and the games truly begin.

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Jonah looks at the customer and nods as they drone on about... something. He's trying very hard to focus on what, but it's just impossible. His lunch was completely unsatisfying, and he's still tired as hell.

"-so then the bagel caught fire-"

He just feels groggy and sick. And he's freezing! He even put his jacket on under his vest, and he's still cold! If only he had one of those cardigans from college with him...

"-and anyway, I just hope this won't turn out the same way."

Jonah nods along for a minute more before registering that the "conversation" is finally over. "Okay, well, good luck with that, ma'am," he says with a tired smile.

"Thank you, um... Joe-neh.”

“It-it’s Jonah, actually- and she walked away. Okay.” Jonah sighs and yawns, stretching his arms. He accidentally swings then out too wide, and knocks something over right onto the ground.

He jumps at the sheer volume of the impact! “WHAT IN THE-”

A barbell in a box smashes against the ground, denting the floor.

“How did- who- where-” Jonah looks around, trying to spot someone who would misplace a barbell into grocery!

He kneels down to take a look. It’s cracked the floor significantly.

He looks at his hand. It’s not even red where he accidentally punched the absurdly heavy weight. He struggles with grocery bags more often than not, and yet this- whatever this even is- happened?!

“Gotta be at an angle,” he mutters to himself. He puts his hands on the shelf, rubbing it, crouching down and examining it closely. “Just slid off at the lightest touch, clearly.”

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“Wow.” Mateo looks at Brett. “How did you even get that over there? It must weigh like, a million pounds.”

Brett gives no reply. Nor any indication that he heard Mateo at all. 

“Fine then,” Mateo says, offended. “Well, that’s a point for the ‘vampire’ better for sure.”

“Totally.” Cheyenne is already marking it down in her notebook.

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Dina watches Jonah on the security cams. “Let’s see how you like this one.” She pulls out her walkie-talkie. “Do it now, Garrett.”

“This is crazy. You know that, right?”

“Just do it!”

At the customer service desk, Garrett sighs and pulls out his phone. He taps an audio file, and holds it up to his mic.

Dina watches Jonah like a hawk.

First his head lifts up, clearly confused, and then after a moment he claps his hands over his ears. Over the camera she hears him shout, “What the hell is that?!”

Customer turn and looks at him with bewilderment, and looks around. 

Jonah looks around too, somewhat distressed.

“Ha!” Dina stands up a little and points at her monitor. “Superhuman hearing!”

“Hey, Dina?” Garrett says over the walkie. “What is this supposed to be doing, exactly?”

“That’s a frequency human ears can’t hear, but Jonah just did,” she says happily.

“Are you serious?”

“Always. He’s freaking out in the middle of grocery,” she says with a laugh.

“Okay, turning this off now.”

“No! I want to see how long he can handle it first, for future reference.”

“Yeah, well, I bet against him being a vampire so this doesn’t benefit me at all.”

Garrett lowers the phone and turns it off. Dina watches Jonah drops his hands from his ears with a small gasp of relief. She plops back into her chair with a disgruntled sigh.

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“Hey, Sandra? Um, so, we got a complaint,” Glenn says, trying to get Sandra’s attention, “Someone said that a bunch of bats flew out of the hole in the ceiling and started trying to rip their hair out? Anyway, uh, we can’t call animal control without corporate approval, so I need someone to handle that...”

Glenn waits for a moment, and then clears his throat. Sandra is still focused on something else. He clears it again, more insistently. Still nothing.

“SANDRA!”

The shrill shout make Sandra jump. Glenn smiles pleasantly when she turns around. “I need your help with something- ... wait a minute...”

Sandra is holding a spray bottle, garlic powder, and real garlic. “Um, I’m... restocking,” she clearly fibs. Glenn raises an eyebrow.

Sandra deflates. “We’re playing a game,” she admits. “To see if Jonah’s a vampire or not. Since garlic might kill him Dina and Marcus are making me wear garlic perfume, which is just garlic in water, to see if it makes his nose bleed or anything.”

“What?”

“I know we shouldn’t be playing a game at work-”

“Who cares?! Jonah might be a vampire?”

“Um... yes?”

Glenn shouts fearfully. “But-but vampires are damned! Jonah’s soul might be damned?!”

“... Yes?”

Glenn quickly runs away. Sandra waits, shrugs, and goes back to spraying garlic-y water on her neck.

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“Jerusha? We’re gonna start up a new savings account! ... Well, Jonah might be a vampire, so I think we’ll need to pay a heavy fee to get him into Heaven! ... Of course we have to do it! He probably can’t even think of Heaven now! OH! I prayed for him this morning, what if that hurt him?! Oh, god... I need to call Pastor Craig about this! Oh- hmm? Oh, yeah, I can bring home Italian, what do you want?”

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Jonah leans away from Sandra. “Yeah, uh, it’s-it’s certainly... pungent.”

“A good signature scent?” Sandra asks meekly.

“It... leaves a strong impression,” Jonah assures. And a strong headache...

“You don’t think it’s too strong?”

“Well, um... now you mention it, it... might, be a little... much. Uh... garlic-ish. Kind of.”

“Oh. Do you not like garlic?”

“I love it! I love garlic, just... not as a perfume.”

“You’re not allergic?”

“I just said I love it, so... no.”

“Okay. Um, thanks.”

Sandra walks away, leaving Jonah thoroughly confused.

“What was that about?” Amy asks, walking up.

“I think Sandra got garlic on herself and is trying to convince everyone it was on purpose,” Jonah says, slightly distracted sounding. He looks at Amy. “That or she genuinely wants to smell like garlic all the time.”

“Huh. ... I bet it was Carol.”

“Oh, that’s a good guess!” Jonah exclaims with a smile. “Why didn’t I think of that one?”

“Mmm, you’re off your game today. Anyway, I asked Glenn and we think insurance will cover a basic checkup if you think you need one.”

"Good, good, because I had another thing happen.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, I started hearing this like um, this-this ringing sound, kind of? But I don’t think anyone else heard it. ... Everyone sort of looked at me like I was that guy from last Halloween...”

“Oh, yikes.”

“... Anyway, I’ll call at the end of the day.”

“You’re sure you don’t need to go home?”

“Well I’d like to but our insurance is so bad our boss thought I might die, so.”

“Right.”

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“Alright, Garrett-”

“Whoa, where the hell did you come from?!”

“The cafe. Here.” Dina tosses a pack of toothpicks to Garrett. “Hold one of these up around Jonah’s heart and see if he panics.”

Garrett looks at her skeptically.

“It’s the closest thing we have to a wooden stake! I mean, I could carve one, but we’d lose a chair or two.”

“Yeah, Dina,” Garrett pushes the toothpicks back over to her. “I’m not doing that.”

“Why? Scared you’ll kill him by accident? You can’t trip, it’ll be fine.”

“No, because this is stupid. And because if he is a vampire, I don’t want him to think I tried to murder him!”

Dina considers this. “... Alright, fair game. I’ll find someone else to do this.”

“Wait, really? Just like that?”

“Yeah. Any idiot could hold a toothpick to someone else’s heart.”

Dina walks away, huffing, as Garrett is left with an odd feeling of dejection.

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Jonah pauses as he walks past patio. He doubles back, and spots Marcus using one of the grills.

Marcus looks up and grins. “Hey! Feeling peckish?”

“Um, are you allowed to be- isn’t that kind of dangerous, actually?”

“No, no, it’s fine. I uh, get special treatment after cutting off my thumb,” Marcus brags.

“Oh... kay. Um...” Jonah looks at the steaks, mouth watering. “I guess... I could use a snack.”

“Great! How rare do you want it?”

“... Do you mean how well-done? Just- usually people don’t start with the assumption of rare...”

“Well, a lot of my friends like their steaks bloody.” Marcus laughs, and then looks at Jonah very seriously.

“Oh, um, that-that’s... cool.” Jonah looks at the steaks sitting on the plate, in a pool of red, metallic-smelling, warmed blood...

He wipes his mouth. “Um, medium rare,” he says quickly. “And I’m just- I’m going to head over to the um, I think I saw a spill! In isle, uh... yeah.”

Jonah quickly walks away, and Marcus pulls out his phone to text Cheyenne. 

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“Hey, Glenn, I was thinking and I think we should send Jonah to- whoa.” Amy stops in her tracks, standing in Glenn’s doorway completely still as her boss tries to quickly hide the fact that he’d been crying.

“Um, go on, Amy.”

“Glenn, are you okay?” Amy closes the door and sits down.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” Glenn waves off. “Just worried about Jonah, you know?”

Amy sighs. “Yeah, I am too. He said he heard a ringing in his ears, so I think maybe we should send him to the doctor and just use the jar method-”

“NO!”

Amy startles at Glenn’s shout. “Why?”

“Because he’s a vampire now, and-and who knows what the scientists will do to him!”

Amy closes her eyes and shakes her head, trying to process that. “I’m sorry, he- what? Why do you think that?”

“Everyone does!” Glenn swings his arm out for emphasis. 

“... So... there’s no evidence, just people spreading rumors?”

“He had the two holes in his neck!”

“Okay, but, vampires aren’t real. You know that, right?”

Glenn shakes his head. “The Devil can do terrible things to good people! And-and one of those things, is turning best friends into vampires!”

Brushing past the fact that Glenn believes Jonah to be one of his best friends, Amy stands up. “Okay, Glenn, how about we go out there and look at Jonah.”

“... I’m scared to.”

“Just come on.”

Amy drags Glenn out of the office and runs into Justine. “Hey, Justine, where’s Jonah?”

“Oh, I think he’s at the grills-”

“Kay, thanks!”

She takes Glenn to Jonah despite Glenn’s protests. “See? Jonah is perfectly norm-”

She stops, and Glenn shrieks.

“Not what it looks like!” Marcus assures, fumbling with a napkin to wipe the blood off of Jonah’s chin.

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*minutes earlier*

“Why do I need to be blindfolded for this?” Jonah asks nervously, fidgeting with his hands in his lap as Marcus covers his eyes.

“I want you to guess which one is cooked right without seeing it.”

“Wh-why, though?”

“Because... it’s a game!”

It’s to see how sensitive Jonah is to blood.

Marcus cuts a slice of steak, and holds it up. Jonah hesitantly opens his mouth, and Marcus shoves the steak piece in. Jonah coughs. “Very aggressive.”

Marcus shrugs, and waits.

“... Medium well?”

“Yes! Noice! My friend knows his steaks. Okay, here’s another one.”

Jonah chokes a little. “You really don’t have to shove it, in, um, you almost stabbed me.”

“Just tell me the steak...”

Jonah chews. “... Medium rare?”

“You are on fire! Okay, one more.”

Marcus shoves the fork into Jonah’s mouth. Jonah hisses in pain, biting down on the very rare piece of steak. Blood dribbles down his chin, both from the meat and his own mouth.

“Oh, shit, I am so sorry! Let me help, um-” Marcus grabs a napkin, and starts trying to unfold it.

Amy and Glenn round the corner at that exact moment. Marcus looks at them with slight fear. “Not what it looks like!”

Jonah coughs, spitting out the steak onto his lap. “This game went horribly wrong!” He takes off the blindfold and grabs a napkin himself, pressing it to the roof of his mouth.

Glenn looks like he’s about to faint. Amy holds her hands up. “What the hell happened?!”

“I was seeing if Jonah could tell different steaks apart and I kind of, uh, stabbed his mouth.”

Jonah looks at Marcus with an incredulous glare (that almost seems to have concern mixed in, but all of Jonah’s expressions look like that).

“Okay, Marcus, go back to the warehouse! Jonah, let me see- dammit, okay, lets go find some kind of antibiotic mouth spray or something-” 

She leads Jonah away as Glenn and Marcus are left behind.

Glenn looks around for a moment, swinging his arms. “So, um... how did he do?”

Marcus smiles. “Awesome,” he chuckles. “That guy is totally a vampire, I’d bet my windshield.”

“Oh.” Glenn’s voice is weak. “I-I think I need to sit down.”

Marcus holds up a plate. “Want a steak?”

“... Sure.”

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Amy takes the plastic off the spray and holds it up. “Okay, take away the napkin.”

Jonah takes it out of his mouth, and Amy shines a light in so she can aim the spray. “Where did he get you? I can’t see any holes.”

Jonah points. Amy squints. “No, there’s nothing. Not even any bleeding.”

They both look at the very bloody napkin.

Amy’s brows furrow. “... Sure healed fast.”

“I-I guess it felt worse than it was.” Jonah runs his tongue over the roof of his mouth. “You’re sure there’s nothing?”

She checks again, and her eyes drift to his teeth. ... Are those two actually sharper, or is she just imagining it?

“... Yeah. Nothing.”

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Jonah heads back out onto the floor, stomach rumbling. He got two bites of steak, which just made him more hungry really.

He passes by the grills. Glenn and Marcus are gone, but a steak remains. The rare one.

He stares at it for a moment, and then gives in. He walks over, picks up the plate-

And the next thing he knows he’s holding the steak in his hands, and it’s bone-dry. He blinks, and looks up and around as though he thinks someone else could have come in and dried out the steak.

He has a metallic taste in his mouth, and he does feel marginally less hungry. Still at a stomach-growling level, but it had been starting to hurt.

He looks down at the now inedible steak. He sets it back down and walks away, trying to figure out what the hell happened and why he had blacked out again.

He passes by Sandra, who’s texting something to someone.

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“Another point to Vampire.” Cheyenne smugly marks it down. “Told you.”

“Alright, alright, I shouldn’t have doubted you,” Mateo admits. “So what do we do? I mean, we can’t keep working with him now, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what if he tries to bite us?”

“Ooooh. ... I guess I hadn’t thought of that. ... He’s probably going to be a nice vampire, though.”

“Sure, for now. But what if someone like, eats his lunch?”

“Wouldn’t his lunch be people now?”

“Okay, so then, what if someone becomes his lunch? ... Should we carry garlic on us?”

“Ew.”

“Super ew, but I think I’d rather stink than be dead. Which is saying a lot, when I run out of cologne I use Febreeze.”

“Which kind?”

“The sea breeze one.”

Cheyenne nods approvingly. “Well, maybe we can get some holy water? I bet Glenn could get us some.”

“Oh, I think there’s some at my house, actually. Tita uses it when we get ant infestations.”

They both smile at their foolproof plan, and keep working.

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Amy watches Jonah from a distance.

He can’t be. It’s just not possible. Vampires aren’t real, they’re just in books she swipes from Emma (and reads herself) sometimes. And besides, Jonah doesn’t look like one!

Well, he kind of does, but he looked like that before this morning. Although he does look a little paler than usual...

No, no, it’s winter, of course he looks paler than usual, everyone looks paler than usual because there’s no sun.

... It was weird how his mouth was completely fine... and he has been acting weird today...

...

She plasters on a smile and walks over. “Hey, Jonah.” She wraps him up in a big hug.

“Oh! Um, hi, Amy.” He hugs back, and Amy shivers a little.

He is freezing.

She pulls away. “Just restocking the freezer?”

“Uh, no, why?”

“Oh. You just, feel really cold.”

“Yeah, I’ve had a chill all day.” He rubs his arms. “Not even coffee helped. But I don’t think I have hypothermia, so I’m not sure what’s going on...”

Now Amy feels a chill. “Well, um, how about we go sit by that heater display, then?”

“Yes, thank you, I need that.” 

As they walk, Amy tries to get a good look at his teeth. He rambles on the whole way over, but she can’t get a good, clear view. 

They sit down, and Jonah sighs. “Oh, that’s so much better. Feel less like a walking corpse now.” He laughs at himself.

Amy laughs too, forcing it out as she eyes his smile.

Those two teeth are definitely longer.

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

The sun sets over the Cloud 9, and Jonah sighs in relief. Finally, almost time to go home. He’s going to sleep right awa-

He pauses his mopping (someone chugged three giant sodas and did not have the stomach for it). 

Where did that sudden burst of energy come from? 

“Must be the relief,” he mutters. He finishes mopping up, and is immediately approached by a customer.

“Excuse me, but there’s a section back there with broken lights. Can you help me find my way around?”

Jonah sighs, hands on his hips, but nods. “Sure! Sure, no problem.” 

He hadn’t even noticed the broken lights earlier, he could have sworn he could see perfectly. He follows the customer over to the dim, isolated area.

And blacks out.

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

“Hey, Cheyenne?” Amy walks up to the cosmetics booth. “I heard you guys did a betting pool about Jonah?”

“Oh, yeah,” Cheyenne chuckles. “It was super fun, everyone was sending me stuff all day and some of the tests were super silly-”

“How about we shut it down?”

“... But, it’s almost the end of the day...”

“Yeah, I know, I know, just, it seems in poor taste.”

“How?”

“Kind of feels like it’s making light of what happened to Jonah, right? And I mean, I don’t know how I feel about gambling about someone who has a gambling problem, you know?”

Cheyenne considers, and nods. “Well, we won’t keep it up, it was just for today. We all know the answer anyway, he’s totally a vampire.”

“No! No, uh, he isn’t, because vampires don’t exist. So he can’t be.”

“Um, he totally is.”

“But he is not, because that’s fantasy.”

“No, really! Look at all this evidence everyone sent me.” Cheyenne pulls out her phone and shows the group chat to Amy. “We would have counted you in but... well, this.” She gestures to Amy, and the current conversation as a whole.

A crowd has begun to gather. Amy turns and looks at everyone. “Okay, guys, it was a fun day but this, vampire betting pool thing is over!”

There’s disgruntled chattering. “So there’s no payout?” someone shouts.

“Nope, everyone should take their own money back and let’s leave this to rest!”

“Like Jonah?” someone else jokes. The group chuckles.

“Not like Jonah, because Jonah is alive and well!”

“Well, vampires aren’t technically alive-”

“Sandra!” Amy snaps. “He is not a vampire!”

Dina scoffs. “Come on, even I think it’s obvious, and I’m not prone to thinking stuff like that. Unlike Glenn.”

“Where is Glenn, actually, he should be putting a stop to this-”

“He went home early. Something about needing to start a fundraiser to buy Jonah a new soul. His pastor is a con artist, but I respect his convincing marketing.”

“... Okay, then, Dina you put a stop to this.”

“Why?”

“Because Jonah! Is not! A vampire! There are no such things, and-and he just can’t be one, okay? Because he is a-a nervous, stuttery, sweet little man and it’s just not possible!”

Sandra glances over into the isles, and stiffens. “Uh, guys?”

“It could all be a ruse,” Dina says with a shrug. “He’s a creature of the night now. Can’t trust him anymore.”

“No, he is not!”

“Why are you so insistent about this?” Mateo asks. 

“Why are you wearing a cross choker like you’re a teen going through a phase?” Amy fires back.

“This is to protect my bodily fluids from your ‘sweet little man’.” Mateo makes a sassy face at her.

“Guys,” Sandra says again, a little louder.

“He’s not my sweet little, I just meant he is in general a good guy!”

Garrett, highly amused, joins in the teasing. “Good looking?” 

“No! I mean, yes, kind of, he’s not bad I-I guess- how did this turn into a thing about me? Stop saying Jonah is a vampire when he is not!”

“Guys!” Sandra’s shout finally draws everyone’s attention. “Look.”

A blank-eyed customer shuffles out of the isles, a worried Jonah following. “Ma’am, please, are you okay? Do you need me to walk you to your car? What happened?”

She doesn’t reply, which seems to make Jonah more frantic. As she walks past, everyone gets a clear view of her neck. 

Two little holes, slightly bleeding.

And Jonah seems to have more color in his face.

“Ma’am, please, what happened in the isle? Did you trip? Did I trip and fall into you? Whatever happened I am very sorry-”

They both disappear out the doors. Cheyenne lowers her phone. “I’m texting that to Glenn.”

Everyone is quiet for a moment, the only sounds those of Cheyenne typing on her phone.

Finally, Dina pipes up. “I think Amy lost the pool.”

[wornoutmouse]

You weren't against soulmates, in general, you were just against yours. Like a few others, your mark was there when you were born meaning that your soulmate was older than you. You weren't upset about them being older you just felt that you would make them uncomfortable or hold them back. Also, your soulmate mark wasn't even fully developed only being a dot which meant your soulmate was somewhere far from you making it less likely you'll meet putting you at ease. Now here you were in Japan in horror as your soulmate mark takes full effect. 

You were traveling with your mom for a business meeting since it was mid-summer the heat was unforgivingly forcing you to wear tank tops. You felt nothing but a slight itch on you back and were startled when your mother threw her shoe at you and told you to take your clothes off. She was now sitting behind you recording your how your mark was spreading. "Your soulmate must have just come back to Japan or something?!" your mom squealed making your ears hurt and silently thanking the gods her quirk wasn't sound-based like this Present Mic you kept seeing on T.v. "What is it, mom?"

"Hell if I know, it's in Japanese!?" you deadpanned, "We are in Japan, but you don't know Japanese?" all you got was a knock on the head as your mom snapped a picture, "I think it's done!" you turn around and hold the phone staring in awe at the picture, "It's beautiful isn't it?" she asked trying to gauge a reaction. You only grimaced, "It's big and it's obvious." you say as you pull your shirt back up. "Oh come on Y/N!"

https://images.app.goo.gl/sE5UoRMFYN2XL21c8 This is the soulmate mark once it develops.

You stand up walking to your closet looking for clothes that weren't too heavy but would hide the mark. "You know how I feel mom!" she sighed, "Yeah but you didn't even give it a shot!" You turn towards her and in a fit of anger, you burst. "Yeah well dad didn't give it a shot now did he!?" your mom smacked upside your head and you instantly regretted your words as you saw the tears in her eyes. "That is exactly why I'm telling you to stop waiting! I waited and he was shipped away!"  You reached out for her only to pull back for you knew you had nothing to say. You scratched the back of your neck and kicked the air, 'I'm...I'm going to go for a walk, give you some space you know?" your mom only nodded as she fiddled with the promise ring your father gave her before he had to leave for 'family' business. 

As you walked you thought of ways to say sorry to your mother. "Flowers won't do since she's allergic, maybe food." you muse as you walked out of the hotel. Walking the route you knew led to a mom and pop dinner, you absent-mindedly kept scratching your neck where you assumed the top Japanese character was. "Why is it so damn itchy?" you asked aloud but you just summed it to the fact that your skin was adjusting to the pigment change. You groan when you realize that your mark was only partially covered.

"No one should look too hard if I'm lucky they'll think it's a tattoo." You made it to the mom and pop shop and ordered some Chicken Karaage with your broken Japanese that you were sure even a toddler would laugh at. As you were waiting you couldn't help but notice a tall, blond, scrawny man staring at your back making you uneasy. His gaze was broken when a young boy with green hair came and sat down with a tray of feed. 'These Japanese people just love their wacky hair colors.' you smirked laughing with yourself.

Once you got your food you took your leave ignoring the skinwalker as you now referred to him. On your way back you hear a loud scream coming from a playground and you quickly run over. There was a strange creature that had ahead of what you could only assume to be a cat with its brain revealed bashing a large globe that held two little boys. Quickly putting the food on the ground you hop over the small brick wall surrounding the playground and take out a sword from your eye before jumping and trying to stop the thing through the back. Before you could land the blow the thing turned around and swiped at you barely missing as it ripped your shirt a bit tearing through the skin above your left breast. "It's always the weirdos with the brains," you growl.

You weren't a pro by any standards but you were a hero, in theory, you just graduated so you were still interning so the closest thing you came to is being a lifeguard of the hero world you jump in when no one else could. "I know I can't take this bastard on my own, but how the hell am I supposed to get a hero's attention?" you grumbled as you pulled a flaming bow and arrow kit out of both your eyes. You quickly took aim as the creature came barrelling towards you shaking the ground under is three-toed feet.

You take slow breaths deciding to aim for the eye, nerves becoming calmer the closer the thing got. You shot the arrow and it hit it's eye making it wail into the sky. As you expected it promptly pulled the arrow out and seemed to regenerate almost immediately. It didn't matter to you, all you were trying to do was get the kids out of there as you situate them on your back. You weren't the fastest but damn it you'd try. Suddenly a shadow cam over you and you looked up to see some beefy guy in red white and blue standing tall and proud in a protective stance in front of you. The kids on your back suddenly got stars in their eyes, "All MIght, All might."

The man threw his head back and laughed, "Have no fear, because I am here!" he announced to the world and you couldn't help but snort at how corny it was. You didn't miss how the man suddenly lost confidence at the sound of your amusement.

"I uh.." he trailed off, tan skin suddenly tinged red with embarrassment.

"Excuse me ma'am!" you looked forward and there stood the green-headed boy from earlier. "Could you please come over here where it's safe, the police are on their way. You look over at the tall man and your eyes widen as you see him use his head to slam into the creature. "Yeah that sounds like a great idea.." you trailed off following the boy. As you sat a distance away from the scene you give your witness statement when the police arrived and showed them your hero license when they questioned why you were using your quirk instead of running, it was a bit hard considering how you fumble with your Japanese but you pulled through. It took the man, All Might, 45 minutes to talk the creature down and for some reason, you could tell that this was not his best performance but every so often he would glance over you like a child showing that they could dress themselves.

You hand the kids over to the police and you head towards the park entrance face lighting up when you see that the food remains unharmed, cold, but unharmed. "Excuse me young lady!" came the broad voice of All MIght. "Yes?" you ask thinking he had more questions for you, "Can I speak with you in private?" you shrug seeing no harm in it only to yelp as your scooped up bridal style into his arms as he leaps about 50 feet in the air onto an apartment complex. "What the hell was that!?" you yelled swaying as you were set back on your feet. "I do apologize but I didn;t want any press involved"

You quirk your eyebrow, "Involved with what?" your eyes widen as the man began rolling off his hero onesie. "What are you doing!? I know Japan has different rules but I'm pretty sure streaking is a no-no!"

Your breath caught in your throat as he turned around and you saw the exact same soul mark as yours. 'So much for no one noticing.' you thought with a small frown. "I'm sure you know what this means." All Might said with a hopeful smile. You nod before snapping your finger realizing you just acquired the perfect forgive me gift, "Yeah can you come home with me?!" All Might suddenly backed up form you, hands up in a defensive position. "Waoh now young lady, I'm just as excited about finding each other as you are but I'm not sure if we should jump to that just yet, are you even of legal age?!" you scoff and stick your tongue out I am 18 for your information!" All MIght relaxed the slightest bit, "That's great but can we wait til a solid 19?!" you doubled over laughing when you realized the problem. 

"That's not why I want you over All MIght! I want you to meet my mom!" All might completely deflate at that revelation and you've never seen someone at peace in such a fast instance "Oh okay."

When you arrived back to your room you open the door shocking your mother from the large man taking up all the space. "Mom this is..." you look at your soulmate realizing you didn't know his name, "Yagi Toshinori." he coughs awkwardly. "Yes, and he is my-" you were cut off as a loud hiss sounds off from Toshinori's direction, and before you can ask there is a puff of smoke and blood and suddenly the large man ou knew as all might disappeared and became the skinwalker that was watching you in the restaurant. "SkINNY MAN?!" you yelled pointing at him. 

Yagi awkwardly scratched the back of his neck and laughed, "I thought that if you have my name you might as well have all my secrets." he said making your heart flutter. "This is cute and all but who the hell are you?!" both ou and Toshinori turn to face your mother. "We're soulmates."

your mother passed out

[alexlabhont]

I didn’t mean to fall in love with you

Chapter Two

Book: Queen B - Choices (Universe)

Pairing:  Poppy Min-Sinclair x Trans!Male MC  (Beck Hughes)

Genre: Canon re-write (Because I can)

Rating: Anyone can read it, really... I think.

I´ll be posting this one over here because Tumblr, for some reason, thinks my secondary blog is a bot...

This is me trying to write by and for the Trans community, specially FTM community, meaning, trans guys, but I actually took the liberty to use They/them pronouns for everyone out there who´s interested (Also, the name Beck was the most neutral one I could find, trying to use the cannon Bea Hughes)

Now, about the PAIRING... I will be using choices style, kinda. If you have any comment, PLEASE BE RESPECTFULL and patient with me. This is also my first english fanfic and english is not my mother language, so... i’m sorry fo the grammar errors

CHAPTERS

The beginning

Chapter one 

ONE-SHOTS

Just a dance (Zoey x MC)

—————————————————————————–

One of their favorite things of all New York experience it's having lunch with Zoey. The girl was funny and interesting and she always had the right conversation to spend time with. Also, she had an incredible taste in music, they both even shared some classes together, working in pair so often that the rest of their classmates just knew they weren't available to them.

So when Beck found out Zoey co-produced the last summer hit, they weren't surprised, what was making some teeny tiny noise in their head was…

“Did you really co-produced Lightning and you didn't tell me?!”

… That.

Beck was impressed, of course. They where proud! That song was one of their personal favorites, so the fact of knowing they were collaborating all this time with such a spectacular talent was an honor.

“To be fair, you never asked” She chuckled.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, Zoey: Hey, my name's Beck, had you ever co-produced a summer hit? Because I haven’t”. Beck ironized. The news were all over The T, and it definitely had to do with a little lunch Zoey managed to have with the same Professor Roberta, making her finally be friends with Beck. “By the way, thank you very much. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Babe, you just bought us a $200 lunch. I think you deserved not to have some teachers bad blood”

“Maybe I did it to be on your good side” Beck winked towards her, making Zoey laugh.

“Such a charmer, aren’t you?” Zoey opened their room door, finally reaching their home. “Careful, Beck. You’re going to make me believe I'm your favorite girl.”

“How says you aren’t?”

“Hum… I don’t know” She tapped her chin with a perfect polished fingernail, pretending to be thinking about it. “Maybe some little bird called Ina Kingsley.

Ow! Low blow

“Ah, gotcha!” Zoey laughed.

“Ok, that’s completely unfair! You know it was one-time thing and we ended whatever that was as soon as we found out we were teacher-student” Which was practically the very next day, by the way… kinda.

“Still… I think you should make it up to me for it.” Oh, that little flirty game between them. Beck was curious about it most of the time. Was it just a joke? Something more? Back at Farmville they never had a friendship relationship like that one, but Zoey was never really clear about the matter neither.

Instead, she always came up with some Ina related topic and it was confusing as fuck. I mean, yeah, they kissed Zoey in front of everyone in that football kiss cam. Beck thought that time that it was very clear they wanted to be more than friends with her. But apparently, she didn't feel the same, so… they won’t be pushing her. Beck would never oblige someone to be into… well… them.

“What can I do? Please tell” They said, playing along with her.

“You're a smart one. I'm sure you’ll find a way to do so.” Damn it, Zoey…

“I already have a few ideas… Scandalous lingerie.” Beck joked some more, a mischievous smile on their lips. “I’m thinking satin sheets, handcuffs, maybe a blindfold…”

“I like this image. You, sprawled out on the mattress, completely at my mercy…” Zoey moved closer to them, trailing her finger up their arm, making them shiver.

“Come on, Zo. Back down already! At least show me something, do something.”

“I might just take you up on that someday.” She said before walking away, teasing them.

“Gwaah!”

Beck hated that. Really, that kind of frustration was no good at all.

“Crap, I'm gonna be late for music theory! This is not good. The prof is a total hardass.”

“Told ya! You should’ve choose professor Liam as I did. You brought this on yourself.”

“And now you’re just an asshole” She said smiling, hitting Beck right on their arm.

“Ouch! Rude…”

“I’ll catch up with you tonight, yeah?”

“It’ a date”

~~X~~

“Are you sure you’re ok, Poppy?” Veronica asked. She looked preoccupied, and she was… But Poppy wasn’t the one in her mind. The blogger was worried for Chloe.

She was number one now, dethroning Poppy so suddenly that it was suspicious, especially knowing the blonde dumb head girl. She adores Poppy since they were kids, Chloe would never betray her, never. But of course, Poppy wouldn’t see that; no, the strawberry blonde was furious, feeling backstabbed, feeling like revenge…

Of course, you couldn´t blame her. She lived all her life between smoke and mirrors.

“Of course I am!” She replied, knotting her white transparent beach dress, covering up a sexy pink bikini. Poppy took a deep breath and accommodated her cleavage so it shows part of her chest, just a little, seductively inviting, but demure enough no to seem made on purpose. She was an expert on it, and she was about to prove her theory right about now. “I´ll take care of that traitor later…” She checked the hour on her phone. She had invited Farmsville to come there around this time. Test number one: They needed to be punctual, no lover –real or fake- of hers is an irresponsible with her time. She had better things to do than waiting around for an asshole. “Now come, Hughes must be here by now”

 “No, I think I’m going to stay right here. Light’s perfect” Poppy rolled her eyes at the way Veronica was trying to find the right angle to make her face look impossible good. She always manages to do so, though.

The strawberry blonde crossed the room, walking through the cabin towards the swimming pool room, she could see Beck there, on time, talking with Michael. Poppy smiled to herself.

“Test passed, Farmsville…”

“… It was built by the Alphas and Zetas as a place to study, party, hook up… Now the only people who come here are - -“

“The people I decide should be here.” She made her entrance.

Test number two: Is Beck into girls? Kissing Zoey didn´t count, Poppy herself had kissed a lot of friends without liking them, she had to prove it herself first hand. So she walked to them with confidence, head up high while moving her hips seductively, attentive to Beck´s every reaction, reading their face, their expressions, the little gulp in their throat, the way their eyes opened wild, checking her out, looking at her boobs…

“Disgusting pervert”

… to her eyes, were Beck fixed their own to stay, always to the face. Beck was trying to be polite, respectful, but the red on their cheeks was exactly the same they had back in the class. They liked what they saw, Poppy knew it. Just to verify, she took a look at the rest of Alphas, who looked away the moment they were discovered. Ugh, gross.

“… but… you have manners. I like it… Second test approved. Well done.”

“Welcome, Farmsville. Let’s discuss our little project, shall we?” An inviting smirk was drawn on Poppy’s lips, willing to test the limits of her new discovery, how much more could she play with Beck today?

“Oh, sure. See ya guys at gym” Beck said, bumping fists and shoulders with the Alphas as if they were good friends. One more of them. For an instant, Poppy found herself wishing they won’t turn Beck into a brainless gorilla. Beck was fine just like already was.

A blonde head caught her eye from behind Beck, saving her of questioning what was that though about because the anger crawled its way up her stomach, keeping her from minding of anything else. “Hold on. What is she doing here?”

The fucking nerve!

The audacity!

Every person in the room was watching Chloe, but nobody had the rage Poppy had. Of course she made them block the entry, how dare she?! After a little scene, that bitch finally went away. To think she considered Chloe her very own best friend! Deep inside, she was hurt, she felt used… The society was right: never to trust anyone, because their always pretending, always faking no matter what they said. Waiting the right moment to strike. That was a mistake she was never going to repeat. Never. She was about to leave, ready to start the project, but of course, Beck was about to ruin her mood one more time.

“That was… pretty rough…” What did they just say? The strawberry girl observed Beck. There was no rest of respect in them, conversely, Beck looked at Poppy as if she was Narnia´s White Witch, what happened to the little lamb look? “I get it if ya’ll are in a fight, but isn’t she supposed to be, like, your best friend?”

God, they were an idiot.

“You´re not here to be my moral compass, Farmsville. Shut the fuck up and walk with me. The rest of you, get out. Now”

Once alone, they both walked slowly around the pool, silence… She didn’t enjoy that. At all. But it was necessary and she couldn´t show any weakness sign to anyone there. Especially not Beck. But… She was now sure of one thing: Beck didn’t care about looks, but actions, or… feelings?

“Have you checked the student ranking today?” She asked, her voice softened. Beck shook their head. They looked at her phone, and after a while…

“Oh boy. Chloe is…”

“Don´t say it…” She was angry, venom caught in her throat, but instead, she let that out like a whisper. A hurt one. She wasn’t faking it, but controlling her emotions on her benefit. Wanting more test, Poppy slipped off her heels and went to sit at the edge of the pool. A moment after, she felt Beck doing the same.

“Bingo”

“It’s just as my parents told me… You don´t have any real friends, Poppy. Just allies. Hmp! Looks like they were right all this time.”

“Poppy, I…” They said, unsure.

“Such a shame.” She stopped him, going back to the anger. “I don’t know who she thinks she is, or who she had to sleep with to knock me out of my spot, but if she thinks this is over she is so wrong. It’s utter betrayal is what it is. That girl is dead to me.” Silence. Was that too soon? Did she got it wrong, again?

“Poppy, you´re too hot to worry about this”

Yes… now they can play.

------

Next

[cecesxwickedxocsx]

December 2nd — “You look cold. Take my coat.”

Something about Hogsmeade in winter was… magical. Even more so than usual. Alex walked with his friends from the school to the small town, his eyes wide with excitement. All around him there were the signs that Christmas was coming. Snow boots crunching over the thin layer of snow left behind from the night before, the cool crisp air filling his lungs and coming out in puffs of smoke as if he were a dragon. 

“Come on Alex!” Alex looked up and grinned when he saw his friends waiting for him near the Three Broomsticks. He tugged his hat lower over his ears and ran to catch up with them.

Things in the wizarding world were getting bad, really bad. Alex and his family had moved into Sirius’s family home with him because they decided it was safer than their old home. They were all watching as Harry spiraled. 

Alex knew it was taking a toll on his mom but there wasn’t anything that they could really do to help him. But today, Alex wasn’t going to worry about that. Today was about having fun, and shopping for Christmas. 

“Who are you buying for?” Cameron, Alex’s best friend asked. 

“My mom, my dad, Sirius, Jace, Emma and Livvy.” Alex recited. “And of course you.”

“Damn right you’re getting me a gift.” Cameron grinned. 

Of course the only way any of that would work was if he managed to avoid spending all his money on candy, a serious threat as they walked into Honeydukes. 

Alex grabbed a basket and started to walk around the shop, putting different treats into the basket. He had a sweet tooth, always had. He especially loved chocolate, a trait he apparently got from his father. 

Speaking of, he stopped at the chocolate bars and picked up several of them, those were going to be his gift to his dad. Remus Lupin loved very little more than he loved chocolate, that was a fact. Alex often thought the only thing he did love more than chocolate was him. 

They finished up at the candy shop, Alex spending way more than he meant to and moved on. 

It only took a couple of hours to get all their shopping done. Neither of them really had a lot of money, and by the time they were done, they had just enough to get a couple of butterbeers. 

“What are you doing here?” Alex and Cam had walked in and gotten their drinks. They barely sat when they heard the sneer. 

“Having a butterbeer.” Alex replied, holding up the bottle as if it were obvious. Julian Zabini looked down at them, a dirty look on his face. 

“I told you that you weren’t welcoming here, Dog.” Alex’s hand gripped the bottle tightly. It had recently been going around the school that his father was a werewolf, something he denied, but of course, shutting down rumors was nearly impossible. 

“Shut up.” Alex snapped. 

“Or what, you’ll bite me?” Julian smirked. 

“Just ignore him.” Cam whispered. Alex took a deep breath and loosened his grip on the bottle. 

“You should leave.” Julian pointed to the door. 

“Until you buy the bar and make me, It’s not happening.” Alex lifted the bottle to his lips and took a drink. Julian reached out, smacking the bottle out of his hands. 

“What the hell?!” Cam jumped up to keep from getting hit by the butterbeer. Alex saw red, diving out of the booth and smashing into Julian. The pair slammed into a table and the two people that had been sitting there cried out as their drinks flew. The two boys scuffled until Madam Rosmerta appeared, using magic to yank them apart. 

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” She shouted. “Get out. Both of you!” She kicked the boys out, ignoring the back that they were both covered in butterbeer now and it was snowing again. Julian’s buddies followed them out the door, tossing Alex into the alleyway between the pub and the building next to it. 

“You think you’re tough?” Julian laughed, shoving Alex back against the brick wall. 

“Tough enough that you think it’ll take three of you.” Alex replied, glancing over Julian’s shoulders at his buddies. 

“That’s just because they wanna have their fun too.” Before Alex could say anything, Julian’s fist slammed into his face. 

Alex quickly lost count of how many times they hit him, but eventually he ended up on the ground. He opened one eye and saw someone walking past, then running off. A few minutes later, came a shout. 

“Stop!” They all froze as the familiar voice boomed down the alley. 

“Professor.” Julian and his goons quickly stepped back. Alex sat up, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. 

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” Mcgonagall sounded horrified as she came into the alleyway. 

“Evans attacked me in the pub-”

“Get back to the school, Mr Zabini, I will be talking to Professor Snape and we will work out a proper punishment for all three of you, go.” She snapped, Julian and the others ran off and McGonagall held a hand out to Alex. He stared a moment, then up at her, he was not sure that she would actually be able to help him up.

“Oh for the love of Merlin, Mr. Evans, just take the help.” He took her hand and she was stronger than she looked because she hauled him up onto his feet. “Thank you, Creevey.” Alex frowned and looked over, Dennis Creevey stood there, wide eyed. “Can you help Evans back to the school?”

“Y-yes.” Dennis answered. McGonagall nodded and turned to go, leaving the two boys alone. “I saw them hitting you so I found the first professor I could.” Dennis explained. 

“Thanks.” Alex knew he was going to have to go to the infirmary wing, preferably before his older siblings saw his face. 

“You want to go back to the school?” Dennis gestured in the correct direction. 

“No, not really.” Alex answered honestly. “I think I’m going to hang out just a little longer.”

“Great, where are we going?” Dennis asked. Alex frowned. 

“You don’t have to follow me, Dennis, I’ll be okay. Julian and the others are all back at the school.”

“Yeah, I know, i still plan on going with you. McGonagall gave me a job after all.” He smiled. Alex stared a moment then shrugged. 

“Alright, if you insist.”

Alex knew where he wanted to go, he liked to go there sometimes. It was a place he liked to go and just hang out whenever he was able to get out and go to Hogsmeade. 

“The Shrieking Shack?” Dennis seemed a little confused as they walked up to the place that overlooked the old house. Something about the snow made it seem even worse. Alex had never been insided, lucky for him, he hadn’t inherited his father’s curse, but Remus had told him about it once. About the abandoned home that they created tunnels to, about going there once a month, totally and completely alone, tearing up the house and himself. The screams of pain and horror making it back to the town, so bad that Dumbledore spread rumors of the house being haunted to keep anyone from investigating. 

Alex sometimes thought about that deep loneliness his father told him about and knew that it couldn’t be that different from the loneliness that he sometimes felt himself. He wasn’t a werewolf, but he was the only one in his family not blood related to Sirius Black. Plus the feelings that had been stirring inside him for a few years now. The knowledge that not only was he different because of his dad but he was different because the way his older brother went after women? Alex never felt that. Jace was girl crazy, he would flirt with just about any girl he saw. Alex didn’t care for that. No, he had yet to find a girl he was really attracted to. Something he would have blamed on his age. 

Except he had felt it towards others, Towards guys. Alex didn’t know anyone else that was like this, and he didn’t know how to talk about it with anyone, he wasn’t sure he wanted to, but standing there with Dennis, looking at the house that sheltered one of his dad’s secrets for so long, Alex felt more alone than he ever had before and he had never wanted to spill his secrets more than that moment either. To just load everything on Dennis sounded amazing. 

But that wasn’t what Alexander Evans did. Instead he pressed his lips together and wrapped his arms around himself. 

“You look cold, take my coat.” Before Alex could say anything, Dennis had shrugged out of his coat and carefully laid it over Alex’s shoulders. 

“Won’t you be cold now?”

“Not really, I tend to be a very warm person.” Dennis replied. 

Alex nodded, reaching up and wrapping the jacket around him a little tighter. 

“I believe that.”

[someillplanetreigns]

Run: A TMA Halloween Statement

For @pilesofnonsense Halloween collection (I hope I’m doing this right)

Statement of Maeve Stanley, regarding sounds she heard prior to discovering a violent crime. Original statement given 10th April 2012.

Statement begins:

I don’t know where you want me to start. You just get given this piece of paper and told to ‘give your statement’ and... I’m writing this and I’m still not really sure if this is even worth doing. But I wasn’t any help to the police, so... I suppose I want to be of help to someone.

I always run with headphones in. That sentence looks completely irrelevant, but it’s important. Sort of key, actually. They’re really expensive headphones. Wireless bluetooth ones, securely fitted, amazing sound quality – and they block out a lot of surrounding noise. Which is in lots of ways really good – I mean, it’s why I splashed out so much to get them. But it also has a major downside: I can’t count the number of times I’ve narrowly missed being hit by a bike. I run on the canal towpath, they don’t have right of way or anything, but they zoom up to you, almost silent – and if you’ve got your headphones on, totally silent – and then breeze past by the narrowest of margins.

I often turn my head just as the cyclist is about to pass me. I don’t know why. Some prickling sense of the approach, I guess. But right at the last moment, I look over my shoulder and they’re right there, even though I wasn’t aware of them until that moment.

That was what it felt like. The sense that suddenly, there was something right behind me. I was convinced it was a cyclist – of course I was, because it’s always been a bike when that happens. But there was nobody there. No bikes, no other runners, no one walking... Just the empty path, and the row of moored canal boats, looking totally abandoned.

I didn’t think any more of it. I carried on running. I was vaguely aware of the guy running up ahead, but he was a long way off, approaching a bend in the path. He was the only other person around.

The police said his name was Jason Laing.

When I heard footsteps behind me, I didn’t register that there was anything wrong with that at first. I turned round to see where they were so I could let them pass me. The sound stopped immediately. And there was nobody there. And it was only then I realised my music was still going; I wouldn’t have been able to hear anyone running behind me. But I was so convinced I had done.

I carried on running. The runner up ahead – Jason Laing – had rounded the bend by this point, so I couldn’t see him. The sound of pounding footsteps came from behind me again. I turned around. The sound stopped immediately. Again, there was nobody there.

I was... maybe a little freaked out? But not very. I think I just thought it was weird? I vaguely remember adjusting my headphones in case it was them. But I just carried on.

When I heard the running again, I didn’t look behind me. I did tuck myself closer to the edge of the path, in case there was someone coming up behind me who wanted to pass, but I thought... I don’t know what I thought. Maybe that I was hallucinating or something, and I didn’t want to give in to it. I kept running. The sound was like... it was like I was running somewhere with an echo. It was like a second set of feet, keeping pace with mine. Matching me stride for stride, breath for breath, heartbeat for heartbeat... But no one passed me.

And then I rounded the bend, and...

I think I went blank for a moment when I first saw the body. Apparently that’s not unusual. I think I must have just stopped totally dead and frozen for a minute, not believing what I was looking at. It was... There isn’t a word strong enough for what it was. While I was on the phone for an ambulance, I was looking for a pulse on his wrist. I knew I wouldn’t find one on what was left of his neck. I must have known it was pointless, but... I didn’t know what else to do.    

When I told the police about it... It’s not that they didn’t believe me – there wasn’t enough as far as they were concerned to disbelieve – but they didn’t see any of it fitting together like I do. Maybe you won’t either. I don’t know. They thought I’d maybe heard something of the crime, but hadn’t been able to pick it up clearly through my headphones, so I’d just gotten distorted, intermittent sound. But I’m not sure I believe that. I’m not saying I think something... supernatural happened to him, but...

But now I can’t stop hearing the sound of that running. Always keeping pace with me.

Statement ends.

Archivist’s comments:

Follow-up for this statement has been... easy, in a practical sense. If not in any other.

Jason Laing was killed on a popular cycle- and footpath beside the River Cam on Midsummer Common in Cambridge on 7th April 2012. His throat was ripped out. The emergency call was made by Maeve Stanley, who did not witness the crime but had seen Laing moments before.

Ms Stanley gave the police much the same statement she gave us. Her high level of distress is referred to in the notes, no doubt as a subtle comment on the strange emphasis she places on her own seemingly hallucinatory experiences prior to discovering the body.

However. On 11th April, a Jessica Burrows came to the police with information regarding Laing’s murder. Ms Burrows owned one of the houseboats moored in the river there. Her son, she said, had been recording videos of the cows on the Common on his mobile phone, when he had, entirely by chance, captured a vital piece of evidence. He had been so disturbed by what he witnessed that it had taken Ms Burrows some time to get the story out of him and to see the video herself, but upon seeing it she immediately took it to the police. It showed Jason Laing running at a comfortable pace past the houseboat. And then a petite blonde woman, running at what is described as ‘an almost impossible speed’, catching hold of him and with extreme violence... killing him instantly.

The police had previously believed the blood on Ms Stanley’s clothes to have come from her attempts to revive Mr Laing. She now became the number one suspect in his murder.

The arrest report for Ms Stanley notes that when she came to the door, she was wearing ‘exercise gear covered with blood’. She claimed not to know whose it was, and seemed surprised, even alarmed, when it was pointed out to her. The blood was later found to be Joshua Kendell’s, a local running enthusiast whose body was found soon after by a cyclist.

Ms Stanley became acutely distressed, and evaded arrest – apparently she was ‘so fast she hardly seemed human’. In her escape, she ran straight into the path of a car and was knocked down and killed. No charges were held against the driver when CCTV footage was examined.

This statement could be a killer gloating over her crime. So pleased with her success in getting away with it – not knowing the boats were not abandoned – that she wanted to reproduce the falsified statement she gave to the police to us as well. But... well, why bring in the supernatural at all? What is all this about the sound of running?

I’m suggesting this statement be sent on for more serious psychological profiling. Perhaps there’s an explanation there.

End recording.

[mst3kproject]

Elves (1989)

Christmas is a weird holiday.  We all talk about joy and generosity and love, while it’s actually a season full of stress, greed, and hate.  We hate our politically incorrect grandparents, we hate our in-laws asking why we’re not pregnant yet, we hate the expense, we hate the crowds, we hate the traffic, and most of all we hate anybody who doesn’t partake in this flaming bag of holiday. Partly because how dare they actually relax and enjoy the season while we go festively mad, but mostly because we’re white people and we just hate everybody.

That brings us to Elves, a Christmas movie about Nazis.

Three ditzes meet in the woods for a dark ritual in which they officially swear off Christmas.  In the process one of them cuts herself – the blood falls on the ground and naturally awakens some primal horror sleeping below. It follows her home in a POV shot, and then we spend a little time getting to know Kirsten and her abusive family. There’s her German grandfather who slaps her around and enforces weird rules, her mother who steals her money and drowns her cat, and her perverted little brother who spies on her in the shower. All right, these people definitely need to die.  Bring on the evil elves!

But no, instead we follow her to work at the department store, where she gets hit on by a drunken Santa Claus.  This guy at least dies quickly, stabbed to death by the elf while trying to do a line of coke without getting it in his beard (is this a Santa Claus and Coca Cola joke?  I hope so).  Later, the evil elf digs up the body of the cat and leaves it on Kirsten’s windowsill, which gets Herr Grandpa thinking.  He meets up with some of his old Nazi friends, and learns that after forty years, their terrible plot is finally coming to fruition.  It seems that Kirsten is the last pure Aryan virgin, who is destined to mate with the evil elf on Christmas Eve and give birth to the Antichrist!

Are you going wait, what the fuck? at this point?  Don’t worry, so am I, and this is only the first third of the movie.

Meanwhile, we’ve also been following a homeless guy who gets hired to replace the murdered Santa Claus and decides to play detective.  The girls invite some of their boyfriends for an orgy sleepover in the department store, but the boys are killed by Herr Grandpa’s Nazi buddies who are here to offer Kirsten to the elf.  Replacement Santa saves Kirsten herself but her girlfriends get killed, and the elf (and the Nazis) decide to follow her home.  Herr Grandpa tries to atone for the mistakes of his past while Replacement Santa consults some scholars to find out what’s up with the Nazi Rape Elf.  The elf was the product of genetic engineering.  Kirsten was the product of incest between her mother and grandfather. A car blows up for some reason.  The elf has a gun.  My brain hurts.

The upshot is that with Herr Grandpa dead and Santa Claus neutralized, it looks like Kirsten’s got to save herself.  I don’t give that good odds.

There’s quite a bit of foul language and a few boobs in this movie that MST3K would have had to cut or cover, but it would have been worth it because god damn this movie is bad.  The summary above probably makes it sound weird and incoherent but trust me, it’s a vast improvement on actually having to watch this thing.  There is no entertainment value here whatsoever.  Thirty minutes in I felt like I’d already been watching it all day. Not even my incredulity that I was watching a Christmas movie about a Nazi Rape Elf could carry me through it.  This is the Manos: the Hands of Fate of Christmas movies.

Most of the time you can barely tell what’s going on.  An awful lot of important scenes take place in various levels of darkness, and then they pile the distorted elf-cam on top of that.  There are bits where you can’t hear the dialogue and when you can it doesn’t make any sense.  The characters aren’t likable and nobody can act – the nearest thing to an exception is the Santa Claus guy.  The character seems like a really decent person who doesn’t need to get involved in this but does, simply because it’s the right thing to do.  Dan Haggerty occasionally tries to give a performance, but mostly he just stumbles through the film in the same dead-eyed how did it ever come to this? haze as Graham Greene in Atlantic Rim.

Kirsten and her two friends are annoying bimbos.  The friends’ names are Brooke and Amy but I don’t remember which one is which… one of them’s the horny one and the other one is the stupid one, and that’s the extent of their personalities.  Maybe they’re both horny and stupid.  Their boyfriends are absolute assholes, who are thankfully only on screen for thirty seconds total before they get killed.  Kirsten’s mom is a sadistic bitch (I guess at least she’s got a reason), her bother’s a brat, and the bad guys are a bunch of German accents distinguishable only by the fact that Herr Grandpa is in a wheelchair.

The elf is made of disconnected puppet parts so ugly and immobile they almost wouldn’t be out of place in Troll II.  It moves about as fast as the Creeping Terror and kills people by stabbing them repeatedly with a fruit knife.  There is nothing remotely threatening or scary about it.  The only emotion it inspires in me is an urge to punt it across the room.  It looks like a cheap, shitty Hallowe’en decoration that isn’t sure how it wandered into this cheap, shitty Christmas movie.

Every so often the movie tries to be funny, but it never succeeds.  The thing with the tape on the door seems like it’s setting up a wacky misunderstanding, but it’s a joke without a punchline.  The guy explaining the history of Nazi Rape Elves while his children sit there waiting for him to carve the turkey is probably supposed to be a joke, but again, it never goes far enough to get a laugh. The closest we get is with little details that are often more clever than funny, like Santa and his coke – or my favourite, a shot of a rack of guns with a sign that says gift ideas for mom.

I understand the urge to make a Christmas-themed horror movie.  Christmas is, frankly, just begging to be ironically subverted, and plenty of film-makers have tried to rise to the challenge.  Not all of them have succeeded, but Elves doesn’t even try.  A movie that has, say, a serial killer dressed as Santa Claus (examples are numerous) is commentary.  It’s saying something about how we tell children to put complete trust in a guy in a weird outfit who breaks into our houses every year. The Christmas imagery in Elves is completely irrelevant.  If this were a movie about one of Santa’s elves snapping and killing people, it could be about holiday stress and taking advantage of the working class.  It’s not.

The movie can’t even keep its own mythology straight.  One of the scholars tells us that the elves were on Noah’s ark and are supernatural beings that have been around since the beginning of time – that’s why the offspring of an elf and a human will be the Antichrist, and why it must be conceived on Christmas Eve.  The other one says the elves were genetically engineered by the Nazis to be the fathers of the master race… so which is it?  The fact that Kirsten has had visions and the elf is so desperate to get the deed done before midnight speaks for version one, while some of the stuff the Nazis say seems to point to version two.  If this ambiguity is intentional, they could have made that way clearer.  The elf draws a rune by each of its victims but these don’t seem to serve any purpose besides being creepy and giving Santa Claus a clue.

I think some symbolism may be intended by having the guy investigating all this be a department store Santa Claus.  Santa Claus is a lover of children and a giver of gifts.  When he catches the girls sneaking into the store after hours, he allows them to stay and have their fun as long as they don’t steal anything – this might metaphorically be considered a gift for good children.  Later he gives another gift, when he passes the ‘elfstone’ to the little brother to pass on to Kirsten.  This isn’t really developed enough to accomplish anything, though.  It’s more of a motif than an actual theme.

And of course, there’s the ‘it’s not over!’ ending, where the credits begin to roll over a shot of a fetus.  What?  There was definitely no rape scene in the movie, nor any implication that one had occurred and the film-makers, showing more restraint than usual, didn’t show it. While Kirsten waited injured in the woods for her brother to bring her the elfstone, the elf was distracted eating a toad.  Did it impregnate her by passing a hand over her stomach, like the guy in Abraxas: Guardian of the Universe?

Man, do I ever hate this movie.  What a boring, stupid waste of my time.  Who makes something like this?  Who decides to put the words Nazi Rape Elf in that order and then thinks the result would make a good Christmas movie?  I dug this piece of shit up in search of something to watch and review besides The Star Wars Holiday special and I’m actually sorry I did.  I’m not even joking.  Elves is that fucking bad.

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Ohana: Part 2

Pairings: Negan x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, fluff

Word Count: 3,179

Part 1

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

“Do you have anyone that needs prosthetics?” You asked Negan as you walked through the building where you had gotten your prosthetic years before.

“We’ve got a guy missin’ an arm. Don’t know what the fuck you can do with that.” You nodded as you pushed open the doctors office door.

“There’s enough information in here that I can learn how to fit a prosthetic. Won’t be top quality but it’ll be better than nothing.” Your eyes scanned the books on the shelves and you smiled slightly at the titles. “Damn this guy read a lot.” You mumbled more to yourself as you pulled out a book called ‘Procedure desk reference’. “This shit’ll come in handy.”

“Dwight! Come grab this shit!” Negan called out as you pulled another thick volume off the shelf titled ‘Physicians' Desk Reference for herbal medication’. 

“Have you guys checked out any doctors offices around here for supplies?” You asked as you handed Dwight the two books and turned to the desk.

“Didn’t think about it, honestly and Carson was fucking useless and didn’t suggest it.” You nodded as you grabbed the two tablets off the desk and yanked the power cords from the wall.

“Here’s a whole list of doctors that should come in handy.” You said as you grabbed the rolodex off the doctor’s desk. “I know he referred me to a psychiatrist, which means mental health drugs. I know this guy is an orthopedic surgeon and he did his surgeries in the same building his office was in, meaning he could have anesthesia. Oh, this guy is pain management and always had some good under the table samples…”

“Well damn, sweetheart. Who fucking knew that dealing with your crazy ass would be so fucking fruitful.” Your face deadpanned as you looked up at him through your lashes.

“Shut up.” You muttered as you closed the top to the rolodex and tucked it under your arm. “I gotta go find myself my new leg and see what I can bring back that could be useful.” With a simple nod from Negan, you dipped into the hall and headed down to the therapy room. You stepped around members of the crew, who were searching every single nook and cranny for anything useful, and headed to the room that housed all the prosthetics. 

You walked along the line to find the part of the shelf that had your name on it. You were supposed to get a new leg before the fall and dealing with it after wasn’t on your list of priorities after. With a smile, you pulled the polypropylene and titanium from the shelf and gave it a once over. With a nod, you tucked it under your arm and grabbed the new protective sleeve that came with it as a guttural growl came at you.

“Shit!” You shouted as you lost your balance and toppled to the floor on your ass as one of the dead techs landed beside you. You scooted out of his grasp a little too late and he wrapped his hands around your old prosthetic finally breaking the pylon off the socket. You yanked your stump free and grabbed a limb off one of the shelves.

“Swear to fuck.” You shouted as you ripped off the hand with inhuman strength and stabbed the deadie in the head. Dark brown blood splattered the room as you continued your assault. “Not today, mother fucker. Not- to- day.” When you were sure the asshole was completely dead, you shouted ‘Ooorah’ at the corpse and laid back on the floor with a sigh only to look up at Regina, Simon and Negan.

“I take it back.” Negan said. “Bitch can fucking protect herself.”

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

“Hell does that even say?” You asked yourself as you squinted at the God-awful handwriting later that night as you tried to organize Dr. Carson’s notes into some semblance of order. After a moment, you gave up trying to figure out the scribbles and added it to the growing pile of ‘unknowns’ on your bed to your left between you and your sleeping daughter. You grabbed the  next page off the stack as someone knocked softly on your door.

“Yep.” You called out as you added the crumpled up paper to Cam’s pile and looked up at the door. You gave Negan a weak smile as he glanced down the hall before dipping into your room and closing the door behind him.

“How’s it goin’?” He asked as you grabbed the next piece of paper; a paper towel.

“If this man wasn’t already dead, I’d kill him out of principle for being a shitty doctor.” You added the note to Isabelle��s pile and grabbed the next one. “And on top of that, the amount of shit he wasted is disgusting. This Isabelle girl took seventeen pregnancy tests. Seventeen! Are you kidding me?” Negan huffed as he grabbed the chair from your desk and pulled it up to your bed side.

“Well she’s fucking dead and now you’re in charge of the clinic so you can make your own damn rules.” You nodded as you grabbed the next paper and squinted your eyes to try to find a name. “So we’re moving your clinic to a bigger room at the end of this hall for all you’ve fucking pulled off. Make it a little easier on you so you’re not going up and down the fucking stairs all the time, too.” You looked up at him as you set the paper down on Sherry’s pile and cocked your eyebrow. “We grabbed a bed from the fuckin’ hospital and one of those fuckin’ reclining chairs. That and the exam table you got gives you an actual fuckin’ hospital center.” You smiled at him and said a genuine ‘thank you’ but he brushed you off as he pulled something out of his pocket.

“I had the crew put all the shit in there for you to fuckin’ organize how you want it. I know how doctors are about their shit. Here’s the keys. You got the only copies to the med cart we grabbed but I have a copy to the lock we snagged off one of the fuckin’ doors at that second place.” You glanced at the keys in your hand and paused a bit as you saw not only your motorcycle keys but the hand made ‘I love you more’ keychain from Mike’s keyring.

“Damn.” You whispered as you brushed your thumb over your sister’s handwriting. You looked up at him with tears in your eyes and nodded. “Thank you.” He nodded his head as he reached out and gently placed his hand on your right thigh.

“I don’t know what the fuck it is about you, baby girl. But you make me wanna break all my own fucking rules.” You huffed a laugh as you jostled the keys in your hand before putting them on your bedside table.

“Oh yea? Like what?” He smirked and shrugged as he massaged his thumb into your thigh.

“Well… had any other prick pulled the stunts you did today and they’d fucking meet Lucille.” Your eyebrows flew to your hair line as he studied your face for your reaction. “The bat.” You pursed your lips and nodded slowly as he continued. “You going on a fucking run… no one gets to just fucking do it. But I fucking let you and I have no fucking idea why I did.”

“Usually it’s because people feel sorry for me because I’m missing a leg.” You said simply with a shrug as you looked down at his hand on your thigh. “So don’t beat yourself up over that shit.” You met his eyes again and you could see him slowly accepting your ‘get out of jail’ card.

“Yea… yea, you must be right.” You nodded at him again as he pulled his hand back to his lap. The two of you stayed quiet for a moment before he cleared his throat. “Well anyways, you’re getting a fucking crew. Get your shit settled, figure out what you have and what you still fucking need. Dwight, Laura, and Gary are yours when they ain’t out with me. You get two trips a month; I can’t fucking afford to lose another doctor and I can’t fucking afford them being gone more often.” You nodded your head as he stood up from the chair and headed toward the door. He hesitated for a moment before looking back at you. “Don’t fucking make me regret this.”

——

“Any allergies that you know about?” You asked for what felt like the millionth time as you gave yet another person a quick physical in your new clinic. The man on your table shook his head as you checked his ears, nose and throat and tossed the cover into a box marked ‘clear’ so you could sterilize them and use them again in the future. You glanced up at him and as you ran your temple thermometer across his forehead. “Any pain, any bumps, or bruises? Scars, past surgeries, anything like that?” You glanced up at the man, who was focused solely on your exposed stump just like every other person you had had come in. With a sigh, you snapped your fingers in front of his face.

“Oh! Shit, sorry. No, no pain, surgeries or weird stuff.” You nodded as you entered in the information in his chart.

“Alright, we’re all set here. Nurse Lilo.” You turned to your daughter with a smile and she held up a lollipop with a smile of her own. The man huffed a laugh and took the offered treat on his way out the door. You let out a sigh as you watched him walk out.

“Mommy… why do they keep starin’ at you?” You saved the new chart quickly and looked up at your five year old with a smile.

“Because they are just curious, baby. They’ve never seen someone who was missing a leg before.” She nodded slowly as she tried to understand while you looked back at your list of people who lived at the Sanctuary you still needed to see.

“How come?” You looked up from your list, which now only consisted of Negan and Brenna, and sighed.

“How come what, sweetheart?” She looked up from your leg and searched your eyes.

“How come they wanna make you feel bad for being different?” You smiled at your little girl, who was too pure for this world, and scooted over to where she was sitting on the big chair from the hospital.

“Because they just don’t get that it can be hurtful. But you have to remember… we can’t control other people. So we just have to ignore them when they’re being rude and hurtful, right?” She nodded at you as you reached out and booped her nose before scooting back over to sanitize your table.

“You’re a good mom.” Negan said softly as he came into the clinic. You looked up at him with a  genuine smile and nodded.

“Thanks. I see you got my message to come see me when you got back?” He huffed a laugh and nodded as you scooted away from the end of the exam table.

“That I did. The fuck do you got for me, doc?” You smiled at him, actually glad he had made it back after his two week excursion to who knows where.

“Physical exam. Take a seat. Nurse Lilo?” Your little girl jumped off the chair and went over to close the door.

“The arm squeezer.” She said as she came over to do her portion of the exam. You helped her up onto your lap as Negan took a seat on your exam table. Brenna got a stern look on her face as you handed her the blood pressure cuff. “Arm please.” Negan chuckled as he took off his ever present leather jacket and offered up his arm while Brenna looked for the little arrow on the blue fabric.

“Line it up with the middle.” You reminded her as you pulled your stethoscope from around your neck. Your patient sat very still as you helped your little helper tighten the cuff around his muscular arm. You put your stethoscope in your ears and set the diaphragm in the crook of his arm as you handed her the pump. 

“Only to one-six-zero.” You reminded her as you clipped the gauge onto the holder and put your hand over hers. Negan watched as Brenna pumped with all her might to get the red line to hit 160 like she was supposed to. She smiled proudly when it finally made it and pulled her hands out from under yours so you could get an accurate reading. You glanced at your watch and could almost hear her whispered counting as you got the systolic and diastolic numbers.

“What’s your count, nurse?” You asked with one more glance at your watch as you let the rest of the air out of the bladder and took off your stethoscope.

“Four.” You nodded at her proudly as you put the blood pressure cuff on the counter and grabbed your tablet.

“What was she counting?” Negan asked as Brenna stood on the rolling stool with a foot on either side of your left thigh and held onto your pony tail for balance.

“Your respirations in fifteen seconds. Now, if you don’t mind, we have to take your pulse.” Negan laughed and nodded.

“Well who the fuck am I to stand in the way of my beautiful doctors?”

“Mommy…” Brenna giggled and you smirked and nodded.

“Yep, Negan says the very bad word a lot.” You watched his cheeks pink the slightest bit as you guided Brenna’s hand to the pulse point in Negan’s neck which was easier for her to feel.

“Sorry.” He said, receiving a glare from Brenna as you put her fingers on his jugular while yours went to the pulse point on his wrist.

“You gots be quiet!” She said to him. “I gots to count.” Negan put on a stern face and zipped his lips as you glanced at your watch.

“Ready?” You asked as you wrapped your arm around her middle so she wouldn’t fall over. “Go.” You forced yourself to tune out her out loud counting, which had gotten a lot better since she started counting people’s pulse a couple weeks before. She did mess up when she hit the teens but you knew she still needed a little more practice with those. “Time.”

“Good job, little doc.” Negan said as he held up his hand for a high five. Brenna hit it as hard as she could and he playfully shook his hand as if he was hurt. “Well daaa….ng, little one. You’re really strong!” She giggled and nodded her head as she sat back down on your legs. “What’s next?”

“Flexes.” She said as you placed a small rubber hammer in her hand and held on to it. “Now this could hurt.” She said sternly as she looked up at him. He nodded and furrowed his brow.

“Ok. I’m ready.” You guided Brenna’s hand and let her tap his knee. Negan, being the good sport he was, kicked his leg out a little dramatically and feigned shock. “Whoa! That’s never done that before! How did you do that?”

“Um…” Brenna said as you shifted her to your other thigh. “It’s a doctor secret so I can’t tell you.” You and your patient both fought to hold back your laugh as she did his other knee, receiving the same result.

“Alright, nurse. Your job here is done for now. Go prepare for your next part. This is our super special patient so you better pick the best one you got.” You said as she handed you the hammer and climbed off your lap. She nodded frantically as she climbed onto her chair and started digging through the bag of slightly stale lollipops for what she thought was the best one for her patient.

“So how am I, doc?” He asked as you added the data to his chart.

“Blood pressure’s normal. Pulse is a little high but it’s not concerning.” He nodded at you as you grabbed your stethoscope and moved your chair to stand up at his side. “Deep breath.” Negan let you finish you exam quietly but you couldn’t help but notice that he was constantly watching you unlike your other patients, who were simply watching your leg dangle. As you wrapped up your exam and asked him the standard general knowledge questions, you sat back down on your stool and smiled. “Well, you seem to be all good in my book.”

“Well that is great to hear.” He said as he put his jacket back on. “Is there anyone here that we need to be concerned about that you didn’t already know about?” You sat back in your chair as you finished inputting the last bit of info into his chart and your brow furrowed.

“Well… um let’s see.” You set your tablet down and looked up at the ceiling to recall the past two weeks of patients. “We have one woman that has severe arthritis but she refuses to leave the garden and I think her husband is in the early, early stages of Alzheimer’s so I’m gunna have to keep an eye on him. I’m gunna try to give Cam a prosthetic but Carson did a great job of butchering his stump so I don’t know if I’ll be able to without causing his nerves unnecessary pain. And other than a pregnancy test for one of those ladies in mourning, everyone was more interested in my stump then…”

“What the fuck did you just say?” You looked over at him and your brow furrowed.

“Which part?”

“Who took the fucking pregnancy test?”

“Oh!” You said as you grabbed your tablet and pulled up the chart, not realizing what you had just done. “Shit which one was… oh here it is. Amber. It came back negative but she was still crying so…” Negan nodded slowly as he pulled a leather glove out of his jacket pocket.

“Thank you. I’m gunna need you down in the fucking hall when you’re done in here. Take Brenna down to the day care first.” You nodded at him slowly as he stood up from the exam table and headed toward the door.

“Wait, your medicine!” Brenna called as she slid off the chair and ran over to him with the lollipop in her hand. He smiled at her as he crouched down at her side.

“Thank you Doctor Lilo. You did a great job today, princess.” She blushed violently as he ruffled her hair and stood back up. “Don’t be long, doc. I don’t like to wait.” You nodded at his back as you closed out Amber’s file and turned off your tablet.

“Alright, B. Let’s get you down to day care so mommy can figure out what’s going on.”

Part 3

[boredfilms]

Silent Sounds Horror Stories Ep 1 ‘what my dog saw’

I’m not much of a believer in the supernatural. Nor did I ever think I would encounter it myself. I live in a small apartment where nothing really happens. It’s a college town so I mostly have college kids as neighbors. You would think that having them as neighbors would be noisy but they're either studying or sleeping. It's a  good spot for me, I keep to myself and don't make too much noise either. I’m the type of guy who likes the simpler things in life, I’m not boring I’m just quiet. 

My mom is always telling me I need a girlfriend or something to keep me company as all my friends are online. She worries about me. I guess I can’t be too mad at her since that's just what mothers do.

As a way to appease her I decided to get a dog from the pound. He’s a small jack terrier and his name is Link after the popular nintendo game. He’s actually well tamed and doesn't bark often. I forgot to mention I have CCTV cameras around my apartment that connect to my phone. I’m a logical guy and it would make sense to have some around my apartment since I have a really expensive computer that I use and so when I’m at work I can make sure my stuff is safe. 

A couple of months go by and Link has adjusted really well, one night while gaming late I heard a couple of footsteps rush upstairs. It was about 3 am so I figured it was some college kids coming home from a party. I was wrong, as I heard “POLICE! OPEN UP!”

Apparently they heard screams, cackles and a loud bang coming from the apartment upstairs. 

Using my headphones I didn’t hear a thing. The reason I even knew it was the police was the loud vibrations from their feet running and banging so loudly. 

I kept to myself but I was compelled to see what the commotion was. I open my door slightly and I can see the police mens flashlights clear the room. Then before I can just go back to gaming Link begins to growl and bark. He then runs out of my room and heads straight toward the upstairs door. 

“Hey LINK! GET OVER HERE DAMMIT!!”

I chase after him to the upstairs floor and catch him. what I see next  is straight out of a movie. A huge pentagram is carved on the floor and candles are lit everywhere. Next to the floor carving is a covered dead body. My heart drops, as superstitions as I am this scared me to the core. 

A police officer sees me 

“Hey this place is off limits if you're trying to reach your floor please use the elevators.” 

I replied dumbfounded “Oh no sorry sir I was just trying to get my dog.”

He gives me a look as to say ‘Yeah right you're here for the show’ He walks away and so do I. 

Don’t look back, don't look back. 

It was about 4 or 5 am at night as I laid in my bed. I know this since the sirens coming out of my bedroom finally stopped but that's not what kept me up at night. Something felt ugly inside of me, It felt like something heavy was weighing down my chest. 

I didn’t sleep at all that night, my alarm went off my phone, it read ‘get your ass to work’

I pull up and my co-worker Sandra stops me “woah! You look like a dead dude.” she sniffs “you smell like it too? Everything okay?”

I reply softly “yeah I uhh.. My upstairs neighbor passed away last night.” 

Her face changed almost immediately. “Are you okay?” I replied walking away “yeah i’m fine.’

I didn’t want to be rude but I also didn’t want to talk about it. 

Work was slow, at least it felt longer than usual. I grab my phone to see my CCTV cam, I open my security app. I felt scared for some reason.  I would soon realize why, as I see Link barking at a corner.  He has never done this. My eyes widen and I start to choke up a little. It looked as if a dark shadow figure was in the corner of my  room. Link continued to bark when SUDDENLY BANG! All of my  food, pots and pans come crashing down!

Link yelps with his tail between his legs and scurries to my room. I click my other camera, nothing. Damn. I grab my coat and leave. Before I go to my doorstep something stops me. I’m frozen in fear. Move damn it!! MOVE! 

I force my muscles to move towards my door. When I open it I see Link on the floor hurt. All of my stuff is on the floor as if someone broke into my house. 

“WHO DID THIS!!” I yelled. 

“WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS!!”

Nothing. 

I quickly go to Link and rush him to the hospital leaving my door open.

At the animal hospital they told me he had a couple of bruises and some scratches on him. They questioned me a little more and reassured them that this was not my doing. 

I quickly rented a room elsewhere and decided to contact my  leasing office that I will be moving out immediately. 

A couple of months go by and  I’m at work where I hear a TV report. It was all white noise until I heard it was my old apartment complex. My heart sinks. The person who had rented my apartment was found dead….

The body found  was unrecognizable as it was.. torn apart…  The cops on the news said when they entered the apartment, the walls were plastered in blood. It’s as if someone had painted the walls red. That could have been me.. I turn up the TV to hear more.

There weren't a lot of details since it was the news but I looked it up online. 

One report actually had footage  and a warning sign above it. Do I really want to see this? No. I need to see this. 

A video plays, The cops actually were holding back a lot of the gory details. As the camera pans around the BLOODY RED apartment walls, guts, and what looks to be an eyeball and some brain matter splattered across the same walls. I couldn't believe what I was looking at. I felt sick to my stomach…  

Later on at night Link jumps on to my bed and lays his head on my chest. I pet him as he snuggles deeper on my chest. My eyes begin to feel heavy as I drift off but before I fall to sleep, Link's head and ears stand straight up. He gets up facing the corner of my room. His tail changes at an upward position, I sit up and turn on my lamp. Link continues to growl. Those growls turn into barks.. He becomes Louder and louder. 

I look to my night stand and see my phone. I slowly grab it and open my camera app. There I am with Link… and a dark shadowy figure standing right in front of him…..

[hollywritesinstardust]

Preferences - Squinterns

Finn

·         You’re his little sister by three years and he always protected you from your father when he got violent

·         Caroline talked to you about your brother when he started working at the Jeffersonian to get the full story of his record

·         You hate being outdoors, Finn doesn’t mind it but you hate sweating and he used to get really prissy with you for not going and doing outdoorsy things with him

·         No one thought Finn would go very far or would be smart enough to study something like STEM, so you’re really proud and triumphant to see him proving them wrong

·         You’re a little clingy with each other because of your family history, so you make sure to get together often and text at least a few lines every day

·         Booth kind of took you under his wing a few times, giving you opportunities with a father figure that you never got to have

·         You bond with Hodgins and Sweets quickly because you’re a nerd and Finn was never into the same fandoms

·         You hate hot sauce so you pretend that it really gets on your nerves that Finn successfully made and sold a recipe for it

·         You adore Michelle, Finn insisted that the two of you needed to meet after they’d been together for a few months and you got along fantastically

·         He keeps a photograph of you in his wallet all the time, next to a picture of your mother

Arastoo

·         Arastoo ran from Iran because his safety was on the line, but you couldn’t go with him because he was so worried you would be caught. You stayed in Iran with your family until conditions between Iran and America were more tolerable

·         Everyone was really surprised that Arastoo actually had a sister because he’d only ever mentioned his brother before, not because he didn’t like you plenty but because they were closer in age

·         Arastoo helps you try out different hobbies to help figure out what kind of job you might like to try getting, and if you already know what you want to do, then he helps you look for interviews and opportunities

·         You knew about he and Cam since the beginning and you were so damn ready for them to get married that you were annoyed by the rollercoaster of breaking up, then getting together, but not sure about marriage, etc

·         He shares his poetry with you and writes some out so that you can frame it on your wall, though he’s humble and modest

·         You were so excited to get a pet cat and then you realized that Arastoo is allergic to cats, so you had to use some creative problem-solving to fix that one without losing your pet

·         Angela is your best friend and she asked to use you as a model for her photography when she was starting out

·         Every time you visit Iran to see the family still living there, you bring back recipes for Angela to try, and art for her to keep, and other little things you think she might like

·         You and Arastoo both love to read so you take trips to bookstores and spend hours there each time

·         You both love fireworks, so the first time you were able to buy them, you went to an empty park and played with smoke bombs, sparklers, and other little, generally safer firework toys

Wendell

·         You’re less than a year younger but he never lets you forget that he’s technically older

·         You grew up with your brother boring you half to death because he loved science so much

·         But you chipped in all your savings to help him get through school

·         Once he had his own paychecks and was in a good place financially, he did the same for you

·         He’s your free mechanic, starting from when he passed his first car on to you so you would have one

·         You used to play one-on-one hockey together on the lake when it froze

·         He’s a typical older brother, ruffling your hair, play wrestling and sitting on top of you until you demanded mercy, stealing your hair products and sometimes putting bugs in your room to freak you out

·         But he also helped you with school all the time, from homework to college applications

·         He is super chill about meeting your friends and significant others, he just makes small talk and keeps an eye on you

·         He told you very gently that he had cancer, and then immediately followed up with how dangerous it was, what kind of treatment he was getting, and how else he was managing it

Vincent

·         You’re his big sister and you were really protective of him growing up because he was picked on often

·         When he went on Jeopardy, you recorded the show and burnt it to a disc

·         You’re the reason he started spewing random facts, you thought he would calm down if he concentrated so you would give him random trivia quizzes when he got upset or flustered

·         You, Vincent, and Hodgins go out into open fields and empty parking lots to play with big toys like remote control helicopters

·         Shopping for Vincent was always easy because books, when in doubt, get books, or a gift card for more books

·         Being an indulgent test subject for several “experiments” while growing up, like conditioning and aversion, as well as testing out engineering designs

·         You stayed in England for school but visited Vincent over holidays

·         Booth said he wouldn’t have believed you two were related, if not for your accent and your eyes

·         Having lots of sleepovers together where you watch TV or going out so he can show you things in DC that he likes to see/do

·         Booth gave you the news after Vincent was shot, and you stayed with Hodgins for a couple days because you could barely stop crying

Jessica

·         You’re quite a bit older than she is, so you were never put in the group home

·         You taking her out of the group home to go do something together at least twice a week without fail

·         She was a sassy and smart little brat then and she still is, she had a hard time making friends because she had difficulty learning how to tone it back

·         Getting an Instagram and a Snapchat just because she needled you into making accounts so she could add you to hers

·         She lived with you temporarily while she looked for her own place

·         Dressing up together for Halloween and always going all-out, Jessica made fake blood and learned how to do cosmetic gore

·         Making a surprise visit to her apartment and meeting Sweets in the most awkward way possible

·         You’re really proud of her for getting to where she is, and she keeps urging you to take just a slightly bigger professional risk to put yourself out there like she did

·         You wish that you could be braver and more outspoken like she is, but she wishes that she could be more tactful and thoughtful like you are

·         Making a surprise visit to her apartment and meeting Aubrey in the most awkward way possible

Daisy

·         You’re twin sisters, but you look nothing alike so this surprises most people

·         You’ve always been really close to each other, but neither of you have had many long-term friendships, so it was hard when she went abroad with Brennan

·         You became pretty close friends with Sweets while she was gone because you both missed her

·         As teenagers, you both went and volunteered at the animal shelter every week. On one trip, Daisy took a puppy for a walk and the puppy sniffed out a dead animal’s bones, which is when she got her interest in anthropology

·         You probably have a name that’s kind of floral, like hers, maybe Rose or Violet

·         You got all excited to have your house to yourself, then she decided she wasn’t going to move in with Sweets after all, so you were disappointed you had to keep sharing, then she took the house, then you had to feel bad for being excited when you knew Sweets was out a house

·         Along with all her interest in science, she also really likes makeup and nails, and you save a ton of money by letting her give you manicures instead of going to a salon

·         She is just so laid back and easygoing about your life choices, it’s really cool to know that she’ll support almost anything you decide to do

·         She has no TMI filter so you know a lot more about some parts of her life than you want to

·         You move in with her for a little while after her son is born to help her adjust to being a single mother

Clark

·         You are the one part of his personal life that he doesn’t mind mentioning sometimes at work (example, “I’m very good, thanks for asking, I got to see my sister yesterday”)

·         You’re his older sister and you tease him always about anything you possibly can tease him about without being mean

·         He’s always been quiet and a little reserved, but when he got mad, you would lock yourself in your room and hide

·         You get along with Brennan better than you do with anyone else on the team

·         When there was a really bad bad guy, Clark got paranoid and asked Booth to take you into protective custody

·         The longest romantic relationship he’s had has been with one of your friends, whom you introduced him to casually

·         He got his love of organization from your lack thereof. It always drove him crazy how you had your “system” of things being dropped wherever was most convenient

·         You taught him to be willing to take control and be firm when he needs to be so that he could handle high school, and you’re glad he took it with him into his career

·         He always brings you your favorite candy, your favorite ice cream, and your favorite flowers once every month or to just to show he loves and appreciates you

·         You were absolutely horrified when you learned that he helped cover up manslaughter, but you still did all you could to help him recover his reputation and credentials

[hellsbellssinclub]

Can You See Me Now? Chapter 1

This is my newest Batman fic.

Summary:

The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

After some nudging from Spoiler and Batgirl, Tim seeks out the Red Hood to ask the older teen for permission into his territory to follow up a lead. It was a small, innocent action but it was the starting point for both Tim and Jason to get to know each other.

But things are never as they seem and things always get better before they get worst.

Read it here on AO3

(Sorry to mobile users, the read more I put on the post does not seem to be working on the app)

“Look, I’m just saying that there is probably more to everything than what Batman told you. Maybe the now not dead Robin isn’t as bad as you think.” The young woman in the eggplant purple suit said for the seventh time in the last fifteen minutes.

“And I am telling you he broke into Titan Tower and beat me with my own bow staff, Spoiler.” Tim sighed, looking over at his Ex, feeling the dull burn of his broken ribs as he breathed in deep. “I know that Batman isn’t telling me everything about what happened. Neither is Nightwing or Agent A. I am in the dark as much as you. But really, I think there might just be a chance that he holds a teeny tiny little grudge against me.”

Steph shook her head at him. “I know he beat you and I know something went down with the Joker but!” She held up her hand to stop him from saying anything over her. “I have looked into every kill and action he has made. From start to finish. While he has been incredibly violent, and well, bloody and stuff, he has not killed an innocent person. Everyone he killed were violent drug dealers and pimps who were hurting the working girls. Crime has gone down in his territory in the last month.”

Tim gave her a pained look. He knew that Jason Todd as the Red Hood was technically doing a lot of good for Crime Alley, a place that has not had a stable crime lord or hand controlling it since Bruce was still a kid. And with Bruce’s own personal dislike of the area because of what happened to his parents and the GCPD’s unwillingness to investigate anything that happens there, Crime Alley often went unchecked and unnoticed by everyone. The Red Hood had strict rules he was willing to enforce and from what Tim had managed to overhear so far, the people who lived in Crime Alley felt a lot safer with the Red Hood around.

But that still does not change the fact that Jason was completely unstable and willing to murder nearly everyone who got in his way. The former Robin was willing to take that extra step to make his point. There had already been at least fifteen cases of torture reported to the GCPD that they know about.

(Though most of those cases were of convicted paedophiles and child molesters and honestly, Tim could not really fault the former Robin for what he did there; he too occasionally got the urge to do horrible things to predators as well, though he himself never acted on it.)

Red Hood’s official death toll was almost at sixty with the possibility of the GCPD finding more bodies every day. Crime Alley might be safer for the people who live there, but that safety was brought with blood and death caused by Jason’s hands. It was not the kind of safety that would last long. Not in Gotham anyway.

At least Jason’s vendetta against the Bat’s had died down though after whatever happened with the Joker that night nearly a month and a half ago. Bruce was not willing to share what had happened and the older man deleted the Cowl Cam footage before anyone else had a chance to see it. The Joker still lived, which was unfortunate in his own personal opinion. Yes, Tim fully believed in Bruce’s ‘save everyone you can’ view of the world but if he was to be honest, Tim would not grieve if the Joker was to be violently murdered by someone. Because really, that cockroach needed to die and just be stopped permanently.

“While I do agree that the whole, you know, serial killer-antihero thing is working in Crime Alley, it still doesn’t change the fact that he beat me up and tried to kill B and N. I really don’t think he wants me to come into his territory and act like we are friends or something.” Tim kicked a stone off the ledge they were standing on. Yes, he was still holding a grudge. But who could blame him really? He got beaten up by his predecessor while said predecessor wore an absolutely horrid copy of the original, green panties, Robin suit.

“I’m not saying go out and act like his friend, Robin!” Steph waved her hands again. “I am saying maybe you could extend the olive branch to him? Because from what you have told me, the guy was murdered in a pretty traumatic way, woke up in his own grave, dug his way out and then was more or less prisoner of those crazy assassin dudes who are obsessed with immortality? Maybe if you and the other Bat’s give him a chance to talk and stuff without the Joker and explosives involved you could actually get through to him. Everything that he has done to you guys, have you considered perhaps it was a cry for help?”

Tim sighed. “When you put it like that you make us sound like a bunch of dicks you know.” He shook his head and slumped his shoulders. She was right. But only to a point. Jason’s actions at the Tower and his anger at the Bats could be seen as a cry for help, especially given what they did know about the trauma that Jason went through. “But it still doesn’t take away the point that he attacked me and the others and while he hasn’t made another attempt against me, he has fought B and Nightwing recently.”

“He probably fought them because they were the ones who entered his territory.” Steph pointed out. That was also true, if Jason had come into his territory he probably would have attacked the older teen without a second thought. He could see the former Robin doing the same if Bruce and Dick tried to enter Crime Alley. “I get it Tim, I really do. He hurt you and that sucks ass. I am not saying that you have to forgive him or anything. I am just saying maybe extend the olive branch to him. You were saying before that one the leads in one of your cases, the one with the underground alien tech, was in Crime Alley, right? Let him know that you are following up on a lead and that you will not cause any trouble for him.”

He gave a low hum of thought at that. Tim’s original plan for that case was to go out in the day, skipping his afternoon study hall at school and going to look for the tech without his gear. It would have been risky but there would have been a better chance that he would not run into the Red Hood. There also would have been a greater chance that he would have been mugged because he looks like a rich white boy with money (which you know, he is), but Tim was confident he could have taken on anyone who attacked him.

But going and asking for permission? Tim had not even considered that an option at all. And honestly, why would he? Jason Todd had made it clear that he hated his ‘Replacement’ and that he wanted nothing to do with the Bats and Birds of Gotham. How would the older teen react? He wondered. Would he attack Tim? Or would he let him pass?

“Hey, if you don’t feel that you can be near him with without him attacking you then you should just bring Batgirl with you.” Steph grinned at him behind her Spoiler mask. Smiling always looked so strange behind her mask but one can definitely see the outline of it. Tim could not help but roll his eyes at her words though.

“I am not bringing Batgirl with me like some kind of bodyguard. I am a grown ass vigilante, I don’t need a bodyguard.” He wasn’t pouting. He wasn’t. He was nearly fifteen, he could take care of himself without Batgirl babysitting him.

“Oh, come on! Batgirl wouldn’t mind! Would you, Batgirl?” Steph looked over his shoulder, causing him to spin around and glare at Cassandra, who was standing a few feet away. He had not noticed at all that she was there and there was a small shock of panic and fear that went through him at that thought. He hates it when people manage to get the drop on him. Cass was the second best in the Bat family at sneaking up on people, right after Bruce.

“We need to put a bell on you before you give me a heart attack.” Tim groaned out, covering his face for a moment. At least Cass never went out of her way to purposely scare him, unlike Nightwing had when Tim was first starting out as Robin. His situational awareness has improved since he was twelve, thank god, and Nightwing was now not able to jump out of the celling and scare him anymore.

Cass gave him a small snort. “Am not Catwoman. Don’t need a bell.” The smirk looked as strange behind Batgirl’s mask as it did Spoiler’s. “I would be happy to bodyguard for you.”

Tim rolled his eyes behind his domino mask. Steph and Cass becoming friends was a horrible idea. He never should have encouraged it. They were both terrible together. Steph always had something to say or do and Cass was always happy to follow her new friend around, enjoying being a teenager like she should. Steph encouraged Cass to step outside her comfort zone and explore being a teen and Cass was willing to do most of the things that Steph suggested.

They were good for each other. But not good for his sanity, seeing as they roped him into following whatever crazy stunt they had planned.

“I don’t need a bodyguard.” He whined at them both. He didn’t need Cass to hold his hand. He could talk to Jason. And if he gets his ass kicked then he could just blame Steph for the idea and spend a week with the Titans licking his wounds.

Not literally. That would be gross. Why is that phrase even a thing?

“Am bodyguard now. No take backs.” Cass nodded, sounding pleased with herself and he groaned in annoyance. He doesn’t need Cass babying him. He is Robin! Terror of the Night and Batman’s partner. He hated being babied by Cass and Dick. They always pulled the ‘I am the older sibling and you are the baby of the family’ card on him. He can’t wait until he could be the big brother. One day he will give the Robin suit up and then he can be the one babying someone else. “Why is a bodyguard needed?” Cass asked, moving to stand next to Steph.

Before Tim had a chance to say anything, his purple menace of an Ex-Girlfriend spoke. “Tim is going to go and ask the Red Hood if he could go into Crime Alley. We need you to bodyguard him because we don’t know if the Red Hood is going to beat Tim up again or not.”

Tim shook his head. “Names, Spoiler. No names on the field.” He reminded her, closing his eyes in annoyance. Steph was bad when it came to remembering the ‘no names on the field’ rule now that she knows his name. If he didn’t know better he would say that she is doing it out of spite because he didn’t tell her it himself.

And Cass was either going to be all for being Tim’s bodyguard or she is going to be against it and honestly, he wasn’t sure which one he preferred.

On one hand, there are a lot of advantages to having Cass actually guard him while he spoke to Jason. Mostly all of them were that she could kick Jason’s ass. It wouldn’t matter how skilled Jason now is, Cass would win.

On the other hand, if she is against it she could go and tell Bruce which would end up with him benched and on the receiving end of a cold shoulder and disappointed glare for the next month or so. And he would probably have several new trackers placed on his person without his consent. Because B can occasionally forget to use his words and just say ‘I am worried about you, please be safe’ out loud.

Mind you, Bruce is still a lot better at emotions than Jack Drake. Tim’s father only really did emotions in small, but over whelming bursts. Which means Tim usually gets a weekend or two of father-son like interactions and then it is several weeks of ‘we exist in the same house but are mostly strangers to each other’. Which is always fun.

Cass said nothing for a few moments, her head tilting to the side slightly as she no doubt read Tim’s body language and seeing his hesitance and his inner monologue. “What’s in Crime Alley?” She asked finally.

“A lead to one of my cases. The alien tech one that I have been working solo on.” Tim explained. Cass had not yet said yes or no and he was still very much undecided on which way he wanted her to choose.

“Come on! Big bad Batgirl can definitely take on the Red Hood if he tries to hurt our Baby Bird!” Steph wrapped an arm around Cass’s shoulders. “And you guys can extend an olive branch to the guy by being nice and you know, asking to be let into his territory.”

Cass hummed, which once again was not a yes or a no. She gently shook off Steph’s arm and looked at both Tim and Steph. “Why extend the olive branch?” She asked. “He is a murderer. He kills people and makes Batman sad, here.” She pointed to her chest, right above her heart.

Whelp, that’s an understatement. Anything to do with Jason Todd hurt Bruce. When Tim was first starting out as Robin he could barely mention Jason’s name without Bruce completely shutting down. It had gotten better over the years. Sometimes Bruce would mention Jason in passing or would say something about how the young boy used to be. But now that it was known that the Red Hood is Jason Todd, things have gone back to the way they were at the start and Tim did not know what to do other than avoid mentioning Jason or the Red Hood all together.

“Spoiler believes that there is more to the story than what B has said and that there we should hear Hood out and let him tell his side of the story.” Tim explained with another sigh. He wondered how many times he was going to end up sighing in this conversation and thought to himself that perhaps he should stop doing so already because ow, his ribs do not like it when he sighs at all. “She also believes there is a chance that his behaviour and actions could have been a cry for help and that we should perhaps try and talk to him instead of you know, fighting at any given chance.”

“Yep! That is some good summary skills there, Ex-Boyfriend of mine.” Steph nodded and looked at Cass expectedly. The mask made it impossible to tell what Cass was thinking. Not that it was easy for him to read Cassandra without the mask but it was slightly easier without the frankly unsettling mask staring at you in the eyes.

There is a good reason as to why he would never go for a full-face mask when he finally is ready to let go of being Robin. And that reason is that is that he is more than likely going to see his mask in the reflection of a window or something and then forget that it is his mask and then scream in fear. Which you know, would ruin the whole serious vigilante look he would be hoping for.

Thus, he will probably only stick to a domino. Or a cowl. But a cowl is slightly too Batman like and Tim did not want to be Batman. He would have to think on this more in-depth later.

“Cry for help?” Cass tilted her head again. “You believe that the killing is his way of crying for help?” If anyone else had said that, Tim would believe that they were being dismissive or sarcastic. But Cass just sounded curious.

“Well, yeah.” Steph waved her hands carelessly as she began to explain. “I met him a few times back when he was Robin. He was a great guy. He was kind. Sure, he was a little bit rougher than Nightwing was when dealing with scumbags and stuff but he always stuck around to make sure that the victims were okay. All of his interactions with you Bats so far look like lashing out and cries for help if you ask me. I mean, he dressed up in a frankly fucked up Robin costume and beat up Tim. He was apparently angry that there wasn’t a statue of him in the Tower like there was for all the other dead heroes and whatever the hell happened with the Joker and Batman was well…” She trailed off.

Tim shrugged. “No one knows what the hell happened with those three.” And it wasn’t from lack of trying to find out either. Bruce was tight lipped about the whole thing and the Joker apparently only laughed when he was asked what happened. Tim suspected that Alfred knew what went down because the older man had been very stiff and cold towards Bruce for several weeks and has only just started to warm back up to him again.

“You think that we should reach out to him?” Cass asked. “Show him we can offer help?”

Steph nodded enthusiastically at Cass’s attempt to clarify what they were telling her.

“I do think that! And I think that Wonder Boy here is the best person to do it.” She gently punched Tim’s shoulder as she said this, making him rock back a little close to the edge. Steph may not be a meta but her punches, gentle or not, were stronger than she realised.

“Why can’t you do it? He hates me.” Tim pointed out. He really did not understand why she wanted him to do this. Yes, getting permission from the Red Hood could open up a professional relationship between them where they could actively avoid each other unless they needed to do something in the other’s territory. And yes, he could definitely see Steph’s point about how Jason’s actions did seem like a huge cry for help.

But Tim has already been beaten once by Jason and he honestly did not want to have another round with the older teen. The fight between them showed Tim just how much he was lacking in his training and he could not help but feel a deep, festering bitterness that he would never be as good as Jason was. As good as Dick was. It was a bitterness he was trying to push away and forget about but it never seemed to go away.

Tim didn’t want to offer the older teen help and then accidentally drive him away because he could not get a hold of his own mental health issues. Issues that he needed to actually address sometime soon, least he turn into Bruce. Or a supervillain. Either one would be bad for his health in the long run.

Steph punched his shoulder again, this time harder; causing him to wince because ow, why, that hurts. “Because Boy Blunder, you don’t have any history at all with him. Except for, you know, him beating you. And you are more than likely a trigger for him because you are now Robin. But still, you at least don’t have a history like Batman and Nightwing do. And he knows nothing about you as a person! He probably only knows what he has read about you from the assassins he was with!”

“All the more reason why you should talk to him and not me! You are a stranger to him, not me! Spoiler is new and not actually connected to Batman and Robin. And if you haven��t noticed I am Robin and something tells me he does not like that I am Robin.” Tim waved his hands in what he could best describe as ‘I am emphasizing my point and you are not listening to me’. He learnt this gesture from Steph when they first became friends and has used it a lot over the years.

“Look Tim; think about it like this. You are brutally tortured and murdered. You wake up in your own grave, dig your way out and are taken in by evil assassins. You spend who knows how long with said assassins and find out you have been replaced by a younger, better model who comes from the complete opposite background as you do. Your attempt to kill your murderer doesn’t work and your father figure is a dick. How do you feel?” Steph put her head in her hands and sighed before continuing.

“You need to be the one who talks to him because you are a Bat and someone who probably makes him feel like he was replaced by a better, richer model and that you are everything that he isn’t. If you talk to him, show him you are an actual person and not some cardboard cut-out of someone who he wasn’t, then maybe you could actually get him to talk about what happened to him and help him! Yes, I am a stranger to him and while we could get along and stuff he is going to need someone who is a Bat to speak to him at some point and…” She groaned. “I messed up my point. Tim, you are someone who is actually a part of all of this mess. I am not. Just, go and ask him for permission to enter his territory. If he says no then he says no. I will go and follow up that lead for you if that is the case. But please, try at least.”

Tim groaned again and looked over at Cass to see what she had to say about all of this.

“You,” Cass pointed at Steph. “You want Robin to talk to Red Hood. Because Red Hood is hurting. And needs help. Robin means a lot to Red Hood. It was his name, who he was before the Joker killed him. If Robin shows that he is not…” She waved her hand in a very vague but Steph like manner. “If Robin shows that he is not who Red Hood thought he was then the Red Hood will feel less like he is replaced or… unworthy? Red Hood was a good Robin. Now he is not good as the Red Hood. Bad things happened to the Red Hood, made him hard and angry. Extending olive branch might help.”

“Yes! Thank you!” Steph let out a low breath. “Why are you guys so good at summarising everything?”

“Nightwing.” Both Tim and Cass said together. Dick had a habit of not only rambling but also talking fast and without breaks. A habit of both his ADHD and from being best friends with a Speedster. Anyone who works or is with Dick for long periods of time learns how to summarise what he says.

It is a handy trick for Tim to know, seeing as he is also best friends with a Speedster and Steph has a habit of rambling herself at times.

“So…?” Steph trailed off and Tim, though he said to himself that he wasn’t going to do it because ow, sighed and completely ignored the pain in his chest.

“If Batgirl is willing to bodyguard than I will go and ask Red Hood for permission into his territory.” Tim felt slightly defeated.  He wanted to keep arguing that he really wasn’t sure that this was a good idea for either Jason or himself but at the same time he knows he would feel crap if he said no because Steph’s points were more than likely all true and-

And he did not want to be a person who ignores someone else who could be in need of help because he was selfish.

Tim has been lucky. Since becoming Robin he has had a wonderful support network that he has used a lot over the years and would never trade for anything in the world. Jason does not have that. Or at least Tim was pretty sure that Jason does not have that.

“I will bodyguard. Will only interfere if you are attacked. I will stay in the shadows and away from sight.” Cass said. “We do this tonight, on next patrol. It is late now. Time for bed soon.”

Cass was right, it was getting close to four am and Tim was due back into the Cave in less than half an hour. He was thankful that he did not have any classes until nine am because he wanted to have more than an hour sleep when he finally got back to his home.

“Oh wow. Today went quicker than expected.” Steph rocked back on her heels. “I am stuck in class tomorrow night but I expect to have at least three texts telling me how it all went from you both. Got it?”

Tim rolled his eyes but nodded. “Yes, yes. Three texts. If I get beat up you are so making me waffles.” He pulled her into a quick hug.

“Whatever, Ex-Boyfriend.” Steph pulled Cass into a hug of her own and then was grappling away with a careless wave.

“Do you think this is a good idea?” He asked Cassandra quietly now that they were alone on the ledge. Cass looked at him, the eyes on her mask stared directly into his own white out lenses.

“I think… that there is a possibility that the Red Hood is falling without a net. And that his lines may have been cut by accident. By Batman. By Robin.” She paused and looked up at the dark sky. “We can offer him a new line. And a net. Falling without a net or line… It is not good. That mindset. You feel like you are flying, until you hit the ground.”

Tim flinched at that imagery. Jason had been hurt by the Joker and whatever the hell happened with his resurrection and the League of Assassins. The trauma alone from that would be enough to make enough the sanest man go a little wonky. But whatever happened with B that night with the Joker…

Whatever happened might have taken away his line, like Cass said. But Tim was not overly convinced that this is a good idea. Cass must have read his hesitance because she spoke once more.

“He needs to see you as a person, like Spoiler said. Not just as a costume. He needs to see not Robin but you.” She gestured to his body. “When he attacked you, he was looking for reason as to why you were supposed to be better than him. He wanted to see, prove himself and you, that he was the better one. Because if he was not the better one, than him being replaced would have been a good thing.”

Tim frowned at that. He had not thought of it that way. While he could see the attack against him in the Tower as being a cry for help like Steph kept saying, he did not think to look as to the reasons why it was a cry for help. Steph and Cass both were good at getting him to take a step back and look at the full details of the bigger picture. He would certainly be lost (and probably more emotionally stunted) without them.

Tim knows that he should not use them as a crutch for explaining emotions and details that he may have missed about basic human reactions, but Tim was not ashamed to say that he did not connect with other people well and often missed simple emotional matters that should have been obvious to him. According to the internet, this was probably because he missed out on many key interactions with his parents due to them constantly traveling around the world and leaving him home with a nanny who discouraged most emotional reactions he had. Because his nanny believed that ‘boys don’t do emotions like girls and he should man up already’.

Tim really, really needed to get his mental health checked out sooner rather than later.

“Okay. Yeah, I see your point.” Tim conceded. “What about you? Are you going to try as well?”

Cass hummed and nodded after a moment. “Yes. Will try with Spoiler and Oracle. Give some space between us and you. Keep him from feeling trapped.”

He hummed in agreement and gestured to the edge that they were standing on. “I am heading back to the Cave. I take it you are going back to the Clock Tower?” He asked, feeling drained. This whole conversation and everything about it made him feel like he had fought off an energy sucking monster. He wanted to go back to the Cave, get into his own clothes and head back to his own home. Or maybe just crash at the Manor. He will see what kind of mood B was in when he got to the Cave.

“Back to Clock Tower.” Cass nodded again. “Will Comm you tonight. Find where you and Hood are. Go to bed.” She reached up and ruffled his hair fondly and then flung herself of the ledge with grace that only Nightwing could copy. He watched her grapple her way towards the Clock Tower until she was gone from his sights.

His bike was down in the alleyway below him and it would take him only a short time to get to the Cave from his location. Tomorrow, well tonight really, was going to be interesting to say the least. He would like to say that the growing pit inside his stomach was just anticipation and not the low level of fear at the thought of speaking to Jason face to face.

The Red Hood was volatile, dangerous and had a grudge against the Bats. Tim had no idea how this was going to go and it frightened him. Jason Todd could simply say yes or no. Or he could just shoot Tim in the head and Batgirl or no Batgirl there would be no stopping him if he does.

Normally, being in that kind of situation was sort of exciting. Like a free fall off the top of the Wayne Enterprises tower. It was a rush that left a bubbling feeling in his chest that just screamed ‘I am alive!’ but he did not feel that right now. He just felt a low level of fear bubbling away in his stomach, making him feel nauseous.

Jason made it clear that he did not like Tim. Did not want to be near him or see him. The beating he had taken was not the worst one he had suffered through. But it had hurt him. Hurt him badly because this was Jason Todd. Robin. The boy who Tim used to follow around with a camera around his neck hoping to see in action.

What do you say to a person that had once been one of your heroes after they beat the living shit out of you?

Tim did not want to think about it at all right now. He needed to get back to the Cave and back home before B and his dad start to worry. He would think about it before he goes onto patrol. Not now while his head was clouded. But later when he was rested and ready for the night.

[iammarylastar]

The Exception part 2: The run.

He squeezed her hand tighter in his. Shifting his body to scoot closer to her, he wrapped her securely in his arm, keeping them from jerking as the car swerved sharply to the right.

“It’s OK Mieke. Everything’s gonna be fine.” He drew his lips into a reassuring smile. But his eyes told her another story.

Gripping her rounded belly, she tried her best to suppress the grimace from her tired face.

Her back and abdomen hurt like hell but she never would let him know. Stefan was too anxious about the baby and their escape out of England, he could have cancelled the whole thing if he had known. She tried to relax her tensed body but the pain was alarmingly growing higher. Breathe Mieke!

“Cameron easy!” Stefan patted the driver’s shoulder. He too would be more comfortable if their friend could slow down a bit. Not that he wanted to enjoy the view, no, it was the middle of the night, but the relentless rough slalom started to get him sick. And guessing the discomfort through Mieke’s face didn’t help. He needed a smoke, so badly, but he was cursed with bad timing. Again.

“Sorry guys” the man answered “I’m doing my best with what’s left of that damn road. It’s like moles had invaded London and had fun to drill holes every fucking inch.” He glanced in the rear-view mirror and apologized for the curse. “Sorry Mieke…”

She swallowed a smirk, in a lame attempt to forgive him. As if it mattered. Moles. Everyone would have rather liked moles’ holes.

But it wasn’t. London had been under attack for months now. More than a year has gone by since England had declared war against Germany and its insane leader. The situation was going worse and worse not only in England but everywhere in Europe. That’s what motivated them to leave. Mieke didn’t want to give birth to their unexpected first child in a country in war.

War reminded her painful memories. Both her father and her first husband were killed. But first and foremost, she hated that awful Aryan race theory and the inhuman hunt for the Jewish people. Her people. She ceased to believe in God, after all the atrocities she had witnessed and those Stefan told her about the first world war, but Jewish blood was still running in her veins and through their growing child.

Stefan was not afraid by the war, he had been a soldier his entire life, ready to die for the Fatherland. But now that the poor Fatherland had become insane and cruel, his priorities had changed. He was devoted to her wife, body and soul and nothing else mattered than run for cover and offer a safer and saner place to settle his family.

When it came clear they couldn’t stay here, they both decided to try their luck in America. A country with better ideals and aspirations than bombing and destruction. The country of second chance and promised new start.

Through the decision was easy, taking flight was harder, mostly in circumstances of war. They were not the only candidates to exile and finding a boat to New York and enough money to bribe the right pen pusher and pay for the smuggler had been quite difficult. But they had connections. Thanks to Mieke’s job for the English crown, they had been provided with authentic falsified documents in a record time and for a reasonable price. And they had Cameron. He proposed a bunch of names which sounded more English than Brandt. America opened its arms to Jewish people, running for their lives, but unlikely to former German officers under Hitler’s command. Changing their names was the better way to avoid questioning and more troubles, even if it hurt Stefan to agree with the fact his son wouldn’t carry his real name.

Cameron was their neighbour, Wilma’s son precisely. He was a carpenter and often asked Stefan to give him a hand on a jobsite. He was kind enough to keep the hardest tasks for himself, Stefan’s condition kept him from carrying what’s heavy or hammerinĝ for too long. Besides that, Stefan was very capable and handy. He paid well and was always the life of the party. His great sense of humour fit Stefan’s and the pair had Mieke laughed out loud, which was music to their ears. Wilma lived next door, literally and was a delightful old lady, even if the loss of her two younger sons at the battlefield had diminished her. Far away from being a weak grandma, she was a strong, hilarious and loving woman, maybe a little bit too crazy when her brain played tricks. As a former self-made midewife, she showered Mieke with advices and old wives cures and predicted a boy. Which Mieke and Stefan took as fact, since Wilma was known to be unfailing. The aromatic herbs she prescribed to cure Mieke’s nauseas at the early stage of her pregnancy worked magic and since she advised that having sex was good for the baby, Stefan would agree with anything she’d say.

They finally reached the harbour, Cameron driving slowly and lightless along the docks, not to draw attention on them.

He finally stopped at the right spot of the loading area, where the next contact was supposed to wait for them and help them to board surreptitiously.

The cold air of February hit them as they get out of the car and despite her heavy coat, Mieke shivered. Stefan immediately wrapped her to warm her up, gently stroking her back, soothing both her pain and misery. He could have allowed himself that smoke he was craving but couldn’t resign himself to let go of her. She was cold and frightened, he had to be there and protect her.

Mieke felt better with her husband blanketed around her, whispering some comforting words in her ear. She melted into him, savouring this last moment of calm before the storm. Time has come to say goodbye, to England and Cameron. Through she felt thankful to this great country which welcomed her pregnant then married, leaving Cameron behind, unsure of his future and safety, pretty sure to never see him again, left her heartbroken and in tears.

“Take care love ” Cameron just uttered, stealing her from Stefan’s grip. “Travel safe and give us news when you arrive in New York.” He pulled her back just to cup her soaked face and stared at her intensely. “And keep that baby at bay for the next two weeks, so he could be born in America.” He shoved his hand in the inside pocket of his coat and handed her a paper-wrapped package, tied with a thin rope. “Mom did that for the baby. She told me to pass on her wishes of good fortune and happiness. She insisted on me to deliver her exact words. ‘I love you guys like you were my own children. This boy is somehow my grandchild and I want him safe and warm.’ He flatted his hand over her belly. ‘Travel safe my angels. I’ll pray for you every day until I get good news. And Curtis is the name you’ll give him.”

Mieke chuckled between her silent sobs and cries. Wilma harassed them with that particular name, arguing it sounded the utmost English name ever. Cameron laughed so hard at her mother, confessing the couple it was the name of her late dog.

'Yes, but it was the nicest and smartest dog ever. I pray your son to be like him.’ Wilma so seriously answered.

Mieke laughed so hard she nearly peed herself and ran to the water closet as fast as her swollen stomach allowed her. Stefan hurt himself laughing, hitting his scar in the movement. They hadn’t opted for Curtis yet.

Cameron released his grip on Mieke, only after wiping warm tears from her cheeks. “Don’t be sad love. Everything gonna be fine.” He whispered. Clinging to the package he had given her like it was a silver lining, arms tightly crossed over her breast, she nodded, sniffing.

Facing Stefan, Cameron opened his arms, welcoming his best friend inside his embrace. “Bro!” Was all he could say. Stefan hugged him back, patting his shoulder, eyes wide shut to prevent more tears to flow.

“Be careful brother. Make sure your wife is safe.” He advised in his ear.

“Will do Cam’. But be careful yourself and stop calling my wife love, OK ?” he warned, joking.

“That’s fair I guess. But you’re the next on my list. Wouldn’t it sound too viral if I’d call you love? In front of your wife?”

Stefan would have barked a laugh in other ordinary circumstances, but he wasn’t in the mood. He drew an honest smirk on his face and just bit his lower lip, his fierce stare showing his deep gratitude.

Stefan knew something was wrong. The guy was late, and it made him nervous. Mieke was chilled to the bone, her lips turning blue, shivering.

Where the fuck was he?

Turning his back to Cameron, he grabbed the only two luggage they allowed themselves to take for this one way trip.

“Travel light” his wife joked, gathering selected pieces they had to bring: underwear, dresses, some of his shirts and pants. Their wedding pic, because “your smile is to die for” she would say. A book. Nietzche’s “Beyond good and evil” with the note which changed their lives handwritten in the cover page. Two necklaces he offered her, one for Christmas, the other 'for no reason but I love you’. Toiletries. Food. Few items for the baby.

“New life. New start. New stuff.” She sang. “You have me, you don’t need anything more.” He agreed, catching her by the waist and bending her on the bed, him on top of her, devouring her neck with wet kisses while she shrieked and laughed out of loud.

He relaxed at the sweet memory of their past months together, happy and carefree , like any newlywed couple in constant honeymoon should be. Whistles code followed by heavy footsteps startled him and he immediately stepped forward to protect his wife.

“Nathan!” Cameron called in a loud whisper. “OK guys. It’s time. Good luck my friends. I hope to see you again. On this life or the next one. Love you!” His voice trembled and he quickly hopped in the car and disappeared in the darkness of the cold night.

Stefan gathered his thoughts, courage, package and wife altogether and walked towards the shadow standing still, half hidden next to the pile of wooden boxes. Stepping closer, he noticed the frown on the cold face of the man. He didn’t look menacing, but seriously pissed off.

The boat had left hours ago. Authorities had received a message that air raids were feared on the port at the crack of dawn and the American staff decided to protect the cargo. And ruin their plan. Though he didn’t deliver many, Nathan was a man of his words. He was paid to afford them a way out from this shitty war, he had to do so.

“Plan has changed.” He coldly mumbled.

The lady was obviously at a late stage of pregnancy, his first plan to make them climb the ship was definitely out of the realm of possibility. It would have been already dangerous for the man who looked strong but the pretty lady would never have made it. Shit. They have to hurry and move on.

Nathan thought quickly. There was another ship leaving soon to America. New York or Boston. Whatever. He couldn’t remember the name of that damn boat but knew where it was anchored. He had loaded a shitload of whiskey a couple of days ago, Prohibition had its good side even after it ended. Long list of wealthy clients, satisfied by the quality of his products and the trustworthiness of their deals.

“It’s a long way. Watch over your lady.” He grabbed one of the suitcases from the man’s hand and started to walk swiftly. They had a long way to go and he’d better carry the case than the woman. Stefan held his wife by the waist and followed the smuggler’s steps. He would thank him later for all his kind gestures.

Mieke carried her heavy belly and clenched her teeth. The fast pace was hard to handle but she had to make it. Her gaze focused on the man’s steps, her head down her shoulders, she tried her best to ignore the awful pain that cut her legs off. Stefan felt her weakness and tightened his hold on her. His shoulders and arms burned like hell and he’d rather have dropped the case to carry his wife in his arms but they really needed those stuff.

After fifteen minutes of running, nobody was cold anymore. Nathan never stopped walking, glancing nervously behind his shoulder to check on the young couple. The lady had her face closed, frowning. Her husband silently leading her the fastest she could.

They finally arrived at the feet of a monstrous ship of steel. Mieke lifted her head up to gauge the building’s height which got her dizzy. Her knees got weak under her, hopefully Stefan watched her back and kept her from falling.

“Mieke!” He almost cried out, as she fainted in his arms. Nathan froze. That was the worst place to stop, uncovered. He yanked at the luggage still stuck in the man’s hand and resumed walking. Stefan slided his arms under Maike’s knees and back and held her tight against his chest, her head resting in the crook if his neck.

“Down!” Nathan ordered after he made sure the footbridge was free. He rushed, squatting, Stefan on his heels. His arms were stones, tugging on his neck, and his thighs screamed out from the effort they had to endure, pulling Stefan’s and her unconscious wife’s weight up the rail. A sharp pain stabbed his abdomen, making him put one knee on the ground. Panting, hissing, he bit a scream back, shutting his eyes tight, adding more flashes and stars behind his eyelids. He won’t allow himself to fail so he tightened his grip on Mieke and stood up again. The wound on his belly tore him awfully, his forces leaving him thoroughly. Grunting deep in his throat, swallowing the jerk in his stomach and he forced himself up. Fighting for balance, he kept moving forward, step by step.

In this early morning, it was highly unlike they meet anyone from the staff, but they were not safe from a morning pee or a sleeplessness walk. Crouching, Nathan glanced quickly at the empty deck.

“Alright?” He whispered to Stefan. No. It wasn’t alright. He wasn’t good. Sweating and trembling from the unsustainable pain that wrecked his abdomen, he nonetheless nodded. They were nearly done, he had to handle the last meters which would lead them in a safe place.

Then he could rest, cry and breathe. But not now. Bad timing again. He followed the man through an endless maze of straight and empty corridors. His whole body was betraying him, the pain creeping through his veins. Each step was the very last he could bear but he kept walking, fighting the urge to throw up. Mieke started to writhe and moan under his neck, coming back to life. Mieke. He had to fight more for her. He would have given anything for his wife and that’s exactly what he was doing. Fighting for her and the baby she was carrying. Fighting for his family.

Nathan cursed under his breath. He was lost in this inextricable labyrinth of closed doors. He couldn’t recognize the right way to reach the room where he had stored a hundred boxes of the precious Scotch goods. Time was running and he had to find out somewhere to settle his clients on the run. The lower deck. Downstairs. There was always abandoned places near the encore room. And the woman would be kept warm. They were all soaked to the skin from their run and that freezing cold in the winter air would surely kill her from fever. He doubted the bags he was holding and warm blanket or dry coats in them. Not that he cared that much, but he was paid for a job and he always had the job done and well done. Which include having his clients on board and alive. Plus the lady was pretty and already exhausted from both her pregnancy and the flight. He smirked. He cared, somehow.

They passed the door of the engine room and Nathan opened the next one and eyes inside. Empty room as expected. He pointed his chin, glancing towards the room and the man walked inside, finally allowing himself to lift his wife down her feet.

Stefan sighted heavily, made sure Mieke was safely settled on her feet before kneeling down, one hand flat on the wall whilst tightening his grip over his wound. Groaning and hissing painfully, he shut his eyes, his face twisting in an awful grimace. Mieke lightly stroked his head, wrapping her hands lovingly around his face and pulling him closer in a sweet hug. A loud grunt ran through his throat and he let out the tears that waited under his eyelids for so long.

When he was finally able to catch his breath, the pain fading away and now more bearable, he stood up and wrapped his arms around Mieke. Hugging her body the tightest he could without harming her still weak self, he buried his face in her hair, tangling his fingers inside. Once her scent and her breath in his neck finished to strengthen him, soothing the pain in his abdomen faster than expected, he pulled back a little to stare at her, his eyes roaming all over her beautiful face. Cupping her wet cheeks, he wandered his thumb along her trembling, almost blue lips. He gently captured her mouth in a slow kiss before reluctantly pulling back again.

“Take off your clothes.” He whispered, his tone unwillingly more sulky than he meant.

Mieke gasped, then chuckled. Stroking her full rounded belly, she jokingly teased :

“Look at what happened last time you asked me that…”

Stefan paused, confused then laughed lightly.

“Naughty you. You’re freezing woman. I just wanted to warm you before you get sick.”

She even hadn’t realized she was shaking with cold and grinned at her husband, already busy to undress. He then gave her a hand to get rid of her coat he dropped to the side before working on the buttons of her dress.

Standing still, Mieke let her husband pulling her dress over her head and melted into his embrace, her forehead resting against his broad, bare chest. His warmth deliciously invaded her as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer.

“Warm me up you, big stud.” She teased, racking her nails up his spine.

He laughed heartily; relieved to hear she was fine. Mieke always teased him, she was good at it and always had him turned on. Their little game often ended under the sheets -or anywhere else- they made a good match. She wasn’t shy in bed, from the very beginning, much to his delight. But it was not the right time. Bad timing for the umpteeth time today. They were both vulnerable and exhausted. They really needed to rest. He felt Mieke suddenly stiffen against him and became aware she was crying. Coming back to his sense, he rocked her gently and kissed the top of her head.

“You’re safe now. We’re safe.”

The door flew open, startling them both. Stefan tightened his grip on Mieke, who shyly covered her breasts, barely hidden by her slip. Nathan rushed in, an armful of blankets he dropped at their feet. None of them had realized he was gone.

“Quiet.” He snapped. “The ship is waking up. Brought this to keep your lady warm.” He smirked. They’ve found their own way to do so.

“How did you get those?” The woman inquired as her husband grabbed one woolen blanket to cover his half naked wife.

He didn’t bother to elaborate a sentence and just grunted. His job was to do things like that. Not really, but he felt like he had to do this. He had walked so many boats he knew where to find what he needed. Years of smuggling, people or goods, taught him to stay low and unnoticed. He met a bunch of sailors, looking for the blankets, even asking where to get them, and he was pretty sure none of them would remember they had a chat with him. The men were busy to fill their belly, quickly swallowing their breakfast before resuming their tasks, getting the boat ready to put out into the deep/clean off. He had to go.

“Good luck. Take care of the lady.” He mumbled before turning his heels to exit the room.

“Nathan!” The woman shouted. Stopped in his tracks, he slowly turned around and faced her. She stepped forward to him, getting so close their chests almost touched. She sneaked a hand out of the blanket and grabbed the collar of his coat. Tugging it down, she pressed a kiss on his hairy cheek before letting go off of him..

“Thank you Nathan. You’re a good man. Thank you. For all. Thank you. ” she repeated the unnecessary words of gratitude. He wasn’t getting used to be -so kindly- rewarded for his efforts, he earned money for that. Adding the pretty lady’s kiss and Nathan felt his cheeks blushing and his heart pounding faster in his chest. For what seemed to be the first time in his life, he cared. Shit, that’s not good for the business.

The lady stepped back and the man grabbed his hand and shook it, his other hand patting his shoulder.

“Yes, thank you so much. We owe you.” He said.

“Welcome. Just stay low for a few days, until the boat is on open water. Just take care of your wife.” He mumbled to the man. He never had spoken that long to anyone before.

“I’ll pray for you and the baby Ma'am.” He wondered where this came from. He even didn’t believe in God and whatnot, but he would do. He wanted them to travel safe, he wanted her to have a healthy baby. He even felt sympathy for the man.

Shifting uncomfortably on his feet, he nodded his head to the couple and left.

At this moment, the thought of naming their son Nathan crossed his mind. Quickly replaced by the image of this rough, mute caveman. Talks little, does much. Accurate. But it was definitely a no no. Curtis at least was fond of strokes and kisses and cute as Cameron told them. He chuckled to himself and led Mieke to the ground.

“Come here, sit down.” He sat down, leaning his back against the wall and settled his wife in his lap, wrapping a blanket around him and another over their legs. She curled her legs up and melted in Stefan’s warm body, humming. Sitting down and feeling secure made the pain in her back and the storm in her belly stop. It must have been the anxiousness of their rush that had had her uterus hard like stone. Now she felt relaxed, rocked and warmed by her husband’s strong arms. She closed her eyes to savour the moment and sighted.

He shifted under her and reached out to grab his coat, bringing Mieke with him to the side. He shoved his hand in the inside pocket and dug out a matchbox. Mieke rolled her eyes and whined. Though he deserved this smoke, she’d rather like to stay in his arms, his scent was way better than his cigarette’s. What he pulled out from his pocket next surprised her. A candle. Not his pack of cigarettes. Stefan crossed his arms in front of her to light the candlelight.

“I planned to celebrate our new start, and take you out for a romantic dinner in your favorite restaurant.”

Another digging in his pocket and he showed her the menu.

“Your favorite chocolate bar!” He laughed in her ear, kissing and nipping at her neck.

Mieke squealed and yanked the bar from his grip.

“How did you manage to get it?” She shrieked in excitement, tearing the brown paper that separated the sweet goodies from her teeth. Chocolate was a rarity by those times of war and she had been craving a crunch for months. Typical pregnancy craving.

“Love, find this was way harder than organizing out trip to New York. But you know l would give you the moon. ” he nuzzled into her hair, while she more than happily took a bite.

“Mmmhh!” A strange sound racked through her lungs.

He’d never have thought she would appreciate it that much. He somehow noticed something weird. She was tensed like hell and slammed her hands on her belly.

Stefan shifted to the side to study her wife. A frown crossed her face, her eyes closed tight, her fingers dug into her abdomen, her breath held.

“A kick?” He happily asked, he always loved to know his son was healthy and sporty.

Mieke opened her wet eyes, her look worried. The calm she had been feeling since they had settled down was short-lived. And the renewed awful pain that stabbed her core was the ultimate clue.

Trembling in fear and pain, she reluctantly spit it out.

“No. It’s a contraction. Stefan, I’m in labor!”

Bad, bad timing.

@cajunpeach @red-diary @frecklefaceb @oddsnendsfanfics @societalfailure @bookwarm85 @pernilleals @kenzieam @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995

@singingpeople

@jaicourtneyseyes

@beautifulramblingbrains

[ma-jinnie-blog]

Still Here - Chapter 1

Genre: Smut, dom!reader, sub!jin, romance, comedy, Ghost!AU

Word count: 2.3K

Warnings: A Porn Star and an Erotica Author, both with very perverted minds that are two different kinds of species. You have been warned.

I've been able to see ghosts since I was little, and a lot of them were so scary that I became the best at resting bitch face. Honestly I wasn't born with it, but when I was five or so my parents were in an accident. Sadly, they didn't make it and neither did I. However a miracle happened where my soul was sucked out of my body, but I was able to go back into my body. Once I woke up in the hospital, I saw my mother's and father's ghost hover over me, crying their invisible tears. With heads cracked and blood pouring endlessly like a stream. Their bodies so mutilated that it was frightening to see them. I remember screaming and running away from the endless crowd of ghosts.

Since I didn't have any parents or relatives that would take me in, I was sent to orphanage to live the rest of my childhood life there until I finally went to college. However during my stay at the orphanage, I found a wonderful way to escape the madness of ghosts. Granted this was an escape for a boy or a pervert, but it worked wonders for me. I read my first erotica novel and became entranced by the things that wasn't in a normal novel. I would often get punished when the woman that took care of us found it under my bed.

However that didn't change the fact that now I am a famous erotica writer. 26 years old and published 20 short novels and 5 series lengthy books. The ghosts would would still be there, but it was easier to ignore them and have a steady cold face. I was devoted to my work and there was one porn star that I was very fond of for my inspiration. He was a very beautiful man with grand shoulders and full lips. Exotic and perfect in every way possible down to his crooked fingers. He started out as a regular cam boy that would masturbate for the views. Eventually catching the eyes of some directors and putting him in better porn videos.

It was dirty watching them, but I couldn't help watching them again and again to be surprised each time. Sometimes my mind would be blank and sometimes full of ideas, but it was always from him. Sadly, he was never in another porno after last year. No matter how much I would look for them, no body would have them. Even my manager couldn't find anything, and he was the best at finding information for my novels.

With a sigh, I leaned back in my chair and took my glasses off to rub my eyes tiredly. Yawning as my eyes moved to meet a pair of dead looking eyes and sighed again. Another one, how many are there now? I questioned myself and shut my computer off to get some sleep, hoping that I could get some wet dreams to get some ideas on my series. I walked to my bathroom to take a shower as the ghosts would follow me there.

They would often try something dirty when I would take a shower, but they couldn't touch me and I would just ignore them. Dirty people now dead dirty people that haunt a dirty writer, what a small world. The ghosts that would haunt me were harmless and were often perverts that knew about me before they died. However no matter how much they tried to catch my attention, I would be unfazed. The only person that I knew that could make me blush or wet was the porn star, but it's been so long since I saw any new content from him.

The morning I woke up, I wasn't greeted with peering dead eyes. Surprisingly there wasn't any ghost in my house. I walked around the house and grabbed a cup of coffee to check if a ghost would pop out of nowhere to scare me. Delighted at the lack of company, I went outside to breath in the chilly air as the sun barely peeked out from under the horizon of the sea.                    Living on the coast was nice and the sea waves would be peaceful and calming on the days that would torment me with ghosts or deadlines. I never really had a problem with deadlines but recently it's been the leading cause why I've been standing here with a cup a coffee and and a shawl to keep me warm.

Finishing the cup as the sun rise and pierce my eyes with its rays in the darkness, I turned around to head back in, but I meet the eyes of a rather familiar face. He didn't look dead, but he wasn't standing there a while ago, but his blank eyes did give it away that he was not living. Once our eyes locked, his expression would lift as he realized that I was looking straight at him. His plump lips parted as he tried to cover the sun and look at me from another angle to see my eyes. T-that, this can't be true. He's dead?!

I was shocked that my grip on my cup of coffee loosen and the cup shattered at my feet. Jumping at the crash, it knocked me out of my surprised expression. I cursed under my breath and resumed as a normal not seeing ghost human and cleaned the mess. However the ghost followed me like any other ghost. Often making a face in front of him to change my expression.

"I knew she saw me... Maybe she is just playing me..." He spoke to himself as I dumped the bag of glass in the garbage. Trying to ignore him, but I couldn't stop that my heart was pounding so loud. Maybe if I do what I usually do, maybe I can stop my heart from pounding so loudly. Pulling out my chair to my table, I took a seat and turned on my computer. However the ghost popped his head out of the screen with wide eyes. Scaring the life out of me, which made him smile in delight.

"So you can see me." He stated and smirked. "What a relief to see someone that can see me." He smirked soften sadly as he looked into my shocked eyes. Even though I was shocked that he was dead this whole time, I had to keep my powers a secret. So I faked my surprised expression.

"Oh my god! It didn't save!" I yelled in frustration and began clicking furiously at my desktop where my recent file would be saved at. True that it wasn't there, which me much more madder than what I expressed. He looked at me and back at the screen with a questionable face, trying to figure out what I was furious about.

"W-what happened? You didn't save your stuff?" He asked as he moved behind me and look over my shoulder at the screen, reading one of the files on my folder. "The Lockpicker? Are you an author, miss?" I blushed at his question, know that The Lockpicker was the book before the one I was currently writing. The story was about a thief who was an excellent lockpicker and fell in love with the wealthy woman. Point is there was a lot of erotic things in the story. Quickly clicking to make a new file, I stretched my fingers out and began typing.

The man behind me watched as I was typing the contents out. Sometimes even reading the sentences out loud, before he yelled out.

"I know you! Your that writer, that famous erotic writer!" He exclaimed and peeped at my face, beaming in happiness. "I wanted to mee to you so badly, I'm such a big fan of your work!" He giggled happily and jumped up and down, running around the room happily to have met the person he was a fan of. Repeating the same sentence that he couldn't believe that he gets to meet his idol. What a strange ghost, being a big fan like this and even acting like such a cute boy was too much for me, especially since I was a big fan of his work as well before he died.

"Miss. Oliver, can I get your autograph!" He peeked at me again with a bright expression, the most brightest of any ghost I've seen. Only to frown slightly when he realized that he couldn't pick up anything. I knew that if he tried hard enough he would be able to move objects in the living world, because the ghost lived in a dimension that border the living world and the worlds beyond. The ghost realm where I could see the ghosts was like a thin veil, and if used enough will power and force even the pure strength of the ghost's emotion could affect the living world. Even I would be able to feel him, if he put enough effort in, instead of having his hand pass through mine, I would be able to hold his hand.

I gazed at my screen as my fingers wandered the keyboard, knowing that nothing was coming out. With a cry, my hands slipped from the keyboard into my laps. Writer's block was horrible and it would get me so angry, I would be able to solve the problem if I watched my idol's porno, but he was here as a unlucky ghost. Making me much sadder at thought, I shut my computer off and threw myself on my bed. The back of my hand covering my eyes as I sighed deeply.

"I can't believe it, nothing..." I whispered to myself as tried to imagine a scenario in my head, only to be met with the blank empty room. "If only I could watch him again." I regretted my words as I remembered that the ghost in my house was him. Biting my tongue, I stood up to see the ghost peering at me with concerned eyes and his eyebrows furrowing together.  I walked to the bathroom, know that a shower always calmed me. Little did I know that my habits of acting like a normal human living by herself would bite back at me.

My idol was standing my the door as I stripped my clothes off. I couldn't put them back on, but I didn't want to show him everything. I cursed myself and decided to fill up the bath, putting extra bath soap to make it extra foamy so he wouldn't see me completely naked. I quickly stripped the rest of my clothes off and jumped in the bath in the same second. I hum as my body was warmed by the water and felt quickly at ease.

He was still standing there, not saying a single word as he watched me bath. He clearly saw everything not matter how quick I was, but luckily he was standing at a distance. Hoping that his eyes was not 20/20 and he didn't catch everything. I could feel my face rise in temperature, feeling like a small girl again that was with her crush for the first time. It didn't help that he was a ghost either. I prefer my guys alive and healthy, not dead and gloomy. I cursed at myself for not meeting my idol sooner before he died. Which rose a question in my mind, how did I not know about his death, not even my manager figure that one out.

My head began to ache as I thought about it, that I groaned out loud as I laid my head back over the side. Shutting my eyes, I wanted to imagine something, anything. Thinking back how long it was that I last masturbated or saw a porno. I bit my lip as I thought about my idol and he sexy sweaty body as he would thrust into a girl and tell her sweet things that would unravel her. Secretly wishing that I was that girl too. I didn't realize that I was rubbing my thighs together at the thought, as my hand went down my thigh to rub myself.

I shiver at the contact of my fingers touching me, slowly spreading my legs apart to allow me room to rub my clit with one hand and slide a finger in with the other. Softly crying out, the imagine of him fingering me came to my mind. His crooked finger thrusting in and never stopped brushing his tip against my walls. His lips latched to my breast and sucking my nipples in, while he took care of my pleasure was something I dreamed off many times, but none of them felt this real.

When I opened my eyes slightly, I saw a full head of black hair that tickled my neck as he nibbled at my nipple softly. I jumped surprised once again, but only to realize that I could feel him! He had his finger inside me as he smoothed his thrusts and looked up at me with smirk on his plump lips.

"I knew you could see me, Miss. Oliver." He spoke softly as he his finger slipped out of my clenching walls up my thighs to under my chin. "There isn't a need to be shy or surprised, I will take good care of you." He grinned as he spoke with his silver tongue. Eyes locked on mine, he leaned in to kiss me and it assured me that he was in fact touching me, and that he was actually a ghost too. Just how strong is Jin's desire?!

[cupnoodle-queen]

CHASING SUNS: Chapter 16 Detach

3,377 words

No comment.

WARNING: Graphic violence, death and mention of gore.

Tagging @nifwrites, @blindbae and @themissimmortal

“I lied to him, Prompto. And now I don’t know what to do.”

Cam fidgeted with a scrap of label from her beer bottle, twisting the paper into a tight bind. Across from her Prompto had his chin in his hand, looking lost in thought, perplexed as to how he could offer support. He knew better than her that Gladio, though often claiming to be a simple man, was in fact quite the opposite despite his demeanor. He gnawed on a fingernail, turning the beer bottle in his other hand on it’s base, the warm stale remnants at the bottom passed drinking quality. His eyes flicked back to hers and she looked defeated. 

Prompto sat upright, worked a kink from his neck and spoke his mind. “I really think you should tell him the truth. It will suck, bigtime, but it’s better than him finding out through someone else, or by accident.” He made eye contact with her and held it. “Pull him aside when the time’s right and he’s not a raging mess, just calmly tell him the truth and all you can do is hope for the best. If you tell him exactly what you told me-why you wanted to help her, and that she called you and asked-maybe he’ll see it as a good thing.”

“Doubt it,” Cam replied, exhaling as she leaned back against the booth. She swung her foot absently and accidentally hit Prompto’s leg, to which she tucked them back against the seat. “Even just seeing Iris here was enough to have him shouting…” 

“Doesn’t take much for him to holler, Cam.”

Prompto was smiling, his statement intending to do the same for her. She allowed a small grin, and dropped her hands to the table, the paper label flakes ploofing upwards and scattering across the surface. “Alright, I’ll talk to him sooner than later. Thanks, Prompto.”

In a gesture that Cam hoped was of friendship and nothing more, Prompto placed his hand on top of both of hers, his fingers brushing her palm. He was trembling and she couldn’t be certain of his intentions, knowing only how out of place it was, yet it offered comfort that she so desperately required and so her hand tightened around his fingertips. It didn’t help that his gentle smile was warm, endless kindness in his violet eyes. “Anytime,” he murmured, barely audible… 

A blaring noise from outside startled both of them, two heads snapping to look out the window for the source. Gladio’s Jeep was back and Cam could see him leaned in the driver’s side, fist pounding the steering wheel and hitting the horn repeatedly. Something was wrong.

They bolted out of the bar and towards Gladio, being the first two people to come to his aid as several others joined. “What’s going on?” Prompto asked.

Cam could tell before Gladio reached the passenger’s side door that something wasn’t right, making out the silhouette of a man through the tinted windows, sitting very still in the front seat…

The door swung open and several people gasped, a bloodied and severely wounded young man almost rolled out as Gladio caught him and Cam was at the ready to ease him down to the ground. He was already bleeding on her, blood gathering in the folds of her armor. “Someone get Dino!” Gladio yelled above her. “We need a stretcher!”

A handful of people rushed off towards the first aid station while others were transfixed in shock, staring at the horror unfolding before them. Cam pushed some stray hairs from his face, matted and caked with sweat, dirt and blood 

She inhaled sharply, recognizing the man instantly.

It was the initiate she caught in the armory with Steph. 

He was delirious, catatonic as his lips quivered violently and his eyelids twitched. Cam tried to speak to him. “What’s your name? W-what happened to you?!”

No response, just increased twitching and involuntary movements. Cam gave him a once over, his body riddled with cuts and slashes, his armor doing little to prevent the brunt of them. Whatever had attacked him must have had massive claws, or weapons…

Suddenly his body convulsed and he grabbed her arm with an almost painful grasp, people coming closer to see what the commotion was. He was almost having a seizure, eyes rolling back in his head and his breath raspy and uneven. Before Cam could react, he’d stopped moving, body going limp, his hold on her arm released. 

“O-oh my god,” someone mumbled in shock standing above her as she cradled the now dead man’s head in her lap, his pupils like tight pinpricks in his glazed-over irises. Dino and the people who’d run off to get a stretcher had arrived to the scene, but they were too late. They all were; there had been no hope for him. Gladio kicked the back tire of the Jeep, his hands raking back through his thicket of hair, expression pained and defeated.

Ceremoniously, Cam closed the man’s eyelids.

They agreed not to talk that night. 

It was all too formal and cleancut, multiple bystanders around given the events of the young man’s death. “Plus I need to scrub the floor of the Jeep,” Gladio added, darkly, “glad I went with leather seats at least…”

Cam turned over in her bunk, grabbing her phone from underneath her pillow and opened the gallery, scrolling all the way down to the bottom. The photos of hers and Nolan’s trip to Galdin Quay warming the glow of her phone screen. She smiled, letting her mind drift back to those days, memories so long gone and swallowed by the darkness that they were a stuttered film reel, bits and pieces left for her to recall. She knew dwelling on the past was unhealthy, her soulmate marking gave indication to that by initiating a dull ache at her hip, but sometimes she couldn’t resist letting the sun from years past back in, desperate for the light, desperate for a familiar comfort.

But then in a moment of sick irony her phone died, the screen going black, and the darkness encroached around her once more.

“Can’t talk long, batteries almost dead on this thing.”

Many miles from HQ, Steph paced around near her car, trying to keep the already faint signal of her call. She held the phone to her ear as she gathered her scarlet locks into a ponytail. “Consider that ‘loose end’ of ours tied up.” 

The person on the other line responded with a deep, tenor chuckle. “Certainly don’t waste any time, do you?”

“Let’s just say I’d rather nip things in the bud before they blossom into an ugly flower.”

“Fair enough,” the voice offered. “Now, about your targets…”

Steph swallowed. “Right.”

“Do you have a time frame in mind? Certainly I trust you’re working to the best of your ability whilst maintaining your proper guise,” the voice’s eloquent accent took her down a peg. “Just remember, I saved you with purpose.” 

“I know, I know.” She felt the bile in her throat rise, the reminder of her existence a low blow. She pressed on. “I’ve...hit a small roadblock, that I need to clear before I can continue. Remember that girl I mentioned when we last spoke?” 

A pause, then the voice answered her. “Right, I can recall. What about her?”

Steph inspected her long fingernails. “She’s coming up in my cross hairs time and time again. Not to mention she’s making it hard for me to...accomplish my task.” She opened her phone’s gallery whilst putting the call on speaker. “Figure I may have to add her to the list, if you don’t mind.”

“Me? Abstain from destruction and despair?” The voice on the other line imposed a sarcastic tone. “Be my guest, dear. Do take photos. You know how much I appreciate them.” 

Steph flicked back and forth between the newest set, secretive shots of Cam with a younger girl, handing her two pistols. “I have some of her alive that I’ll send your way, if you’d like.” 

“Please do,” they responded. “I’m a sucker for before and after comparisons.” 

“Oh, you won’t recognize her when I’m finished,” Steph muttered, barely loud enough for the caller to hear. “But first, let me have some fun with them.”

The voice laughed darkly.

“That’s my girl.”

Steph ended the call and sent Gladio a text message.

“So, what’s next?”

Iris was practically bouncing in her seat, two blue hunts down for the count and a couple other flyers splayed out on the bench seat of the truck. Cam couldn’t help but feel giddy, the girl’s excitement infectious despite the events of the night before. She decided during her shift of sharpening blades that continuing Iris’s training was important, now more than ever with the death of that initiate.

Cam’s skin crawled, flashbacks of him dying in her arms assaulting her tired mind. She shook her head before replying to Iris. “Think we can make quick work of that pack of flans just outside of Astor Slough, may eat your ammo though as they’re a pain to take down with physical attacks.” She flipped on the heat, the early evening chill starting to seep into the truck’s cabin. “But the gil from this one alone will cover both your restocking of bullets and you should have enough to afford your first piece of armor.”

“That’s great,” Iris peered out the passenger’s side window, ripe with anticipation. “When do I get one of those cool bandanas?”

“I think we can work one into the deal,” Cam smirked beside her.

They drove on towards Astor Slough, a short silence fell between them until Cam decided to ask about the night before. “He wasn’t too harsh on you, was he?” “Oh, no not really,” Iris replied, though Cam could detect a hint of bitter undertone in her words. “He was mad at you, though. Did you guys fight last night?”

Cam frowned, unhappy to hear he was so upset with her but not surprised. “No, we...didn’t get a chance to. Probably going to after his patrol tonight, though. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

They parked in the lot off the side of the road and got out, Iris reloading her guns and counting through her stock of bullets. “How many are there in total?” She asked Cam.

She scanned their surroundings, feeling unusually on-edge. “Flyer said about six, but flans aren’t known for their speed. Just gotta keep their spellcasting interrupted and you should be able to kite them while I attack from behind.” 

“Gotcha.”

Cam tightened her messy ponytail, adjusted her armor and shifted her swords in place behind her back. “Ready?”

Iris gave her a quick nod. “Ready as I’ll ever be!”

 I’m ready to talk, whenever you’re free xox

Gladio frowned at the text message from Steph. Off his patrol shift early, he figured now would be better than later. He found her number in his phone and dialed. She answered after the second ring. “Hey, sexy. Missed you, how’ve you been?”

“Fine,” He answered, coldly, all business. “I’m free to talk, where can I meet you?”

Steph glanced over her shoulder, two figures leaving their truck parked on the side of the road in the distance, hopping the guardrail to head into the forest. “You know that little pitstop near Astor Slough? I’m there right now, if you’re nearby.”

Gladio knew the area well. “Alright, be there in fifteen.”

Only two left...only two left….

Cam mentally hyped herself up again, her breathing ragged from chasing the flans for several minutes in a row. She felt weakened, as if her muscles were atrophying from lack of use, but she persevered and drew deep from her energy stores, catching up with one of them in time to hack a gelatinous hunk off the daemon blob. Iris was firing away, still missing with most of her shots yet she’d kept up the pace, kiting them around the small clearing as Cam had suggested she do, becoming the master of reloading on the run. She jammed a full clip into her pistol, fired twice at the flan almost flanking Cam, holstered it before retrieving her other gun and reloading the spent chamber. Once both were ready to go, she fired on all cylinders, each shot hitting paydirt and she grinned wickedly.

The flan Cam had chopped a part off of disintegrated into a puddle of strange goo and she hopped over it, nearly colliding with the last one as it turned to counter her attack. She raised her blades in tandem and brought them both down in one sweeping motion, hacking a considerable gouge in it’s head just as four well-placed shots pierced through it’s face. It jiggled before keeling over into a molten pile of gel, defeated.

“Wahoo!” Iris cheered, holstering her guns and almost skipping towards Cam, who was still catching her breath. She was sloppy, her skills feeling rusty, and had it not been for Iris’s barrage of bullets Cam may have actually had difficulty completing the blue level hunt. Add to that, her wrists were on fire, something she’d only experienced when first swapping her guns for swords…

Still, she kept positive; they’d downed another hunt and Iris was on her way to her first piece of armor. She’d have a full set in no time. “Good stuff, we make a pretty good team.”

Iris’s eyes lit up. “You think so?”

“For sure,” Cam replied, turning to walk alongside the girl as they made for the trail out of the woods. “I can’t wait to see you handle a sword-”

Iris stopped cold and Cam realised why a fraction of a second too late. 

Gladio was standing at the edge of the clearing, teeth gritted and fists balled, completely still yet violent rage rolled off his shoulders in waves. Cam’s hip singed with a furious heat, his own anger coursing through her bloodstream and her vision tinted red. Despite his fury, his voice was low when he spoke. “Iris,” he bellowed, “come with me. Now.”

She protested in response. “Why? Gladdy, I-”

“NOW.” 

As with the night before, Iris’s shoulders fell and she gave Cam a defeated look. “S-sorry, Cam,” she mumbled, her lower lip quivering as she shuffled towards her older brother, away from Cam and leaving her to fight the madness on her own.

It wasn’t right. How did he know they were here? She’d checked before they left to ensure they were alone, to ensure there were no enemies waiting in the sidelines to take them out. He must have followed them, or knew they would be here somehow…

His anger was influencing her emotions, swaying her guard and she hollered at him, letting the rage have it’s way with her. “You can’t protect her forever!”

Gladio took a step forward, his chest rising and falling hard with his shredded breaths. “You lied to me!! Who the hell gave you the right, Cam?! She’s still a kid!!”

“Poor excuse, Gladio,” Cam replied, her voice going up an octave from the unrestricted anger in her system, “the end of the world doesn’t care how old you are, only if you’re alive or dead! I’m only trying to help her live!”

“By putting her in danger and giving her a loaded weapon?!” Gladio’s voice boomed back at her.

“Excuse me?! I was only doing what you did with me!! How else will she get the practice?!” Cam exhaled, one hell of a retort staining her tongue in volatile oil: “You don’t have the strength, the will, to train her yourself.”

Her words cut through him, she could tell even over the many yards that separated them and she regretted it instantly. But the damage was done.

His next words would be her undoing. “Go to hell, Cam. Leave us the fuck alone.”

An almost physical snap hit her heart, the tension surmounting the connection to her soulmate marking and it broke free, the almost ever-present warm, tingling sensation faded away entirely leaving nothing but a hollow void that grew colder by the second.

Gladio turned and Iris followed him out of the clearing while tears blurred Cam’s vision. Everything became a muddled mess of color, strained from the darkness surrounding her, but she could faintly make out a slight smudge of crimson red, her least favourite color in the entire world, trailing behind the two Amicitia siblings and out of the woods.

Cam drove back to HQ alone, the stack of hunts shoved under the seat of the truck and out of her line of sight. Her head was pounding, one hell of a migraine coming on, and her chest was sore both in combination to the exertion of the fights and Gladio’s sandpaper words. Driving through the blackness of the tunnel leading into HQ, she received Prompto’s replying text: Sure, I’ll wait outside for you to get back. We can talk all you want :)

She needed someone, anyone to talk to, the loneliness creeping up from the most pitch parts in her psyche, the parts that had their hold on her when she lived in Lestallum shortly after Nolan’s death so many weeks ago. They were familiar acquaintances, missing her company. She needed light. She needed a friend.

She drove out of the tunnel and into HQ, finding a place to park Greyson’s truck. She’d clean it of the flyers and empty bullet casings later on. Right now, she was a shell of a person, so cold even though the nighttime chill could barely be called that at all.

Prompto approached her as she got out, dusting off her armor and letting her windswept ponytail down, messy curls falling around her shoulders. “Thanks, Prompto.”

He seemed short of words, rosy lips parted as he looked her over. “Anytime. What’s up?”

“You’re going to think I’m crazy, but…” She trailed off, considering her next words before she spoke them. “Do you -”

“WEST GATE! ENEMY AT WEST GATE!”

A loud air horn resounded after the megaphone announcer blared out. The two of them snapped their heads in the direction of the entrance on the opposite side of HQ. They shared confused looks and decided to investigate the cause for disturbance, a handful of other hunters following suit.

It was hard to tell in the harsh spotlights, but there was a single being, almost humanesque in stature, limbering aimlessly into the HQ grounds, though none of the gunners had fired yet. What were they waiting for?

Prompto and Cam were close enough now to tell it was definitely human...or at least once was, it’s badly decomposed and almost mummified state akin to a creature from horror films, or something from a nightmare. A blackened substance was oozing from whatever open cavities it had, staining the tattered pants they wore.

A few steps closer...And Cam’s stomach wretched. She recognized the face.

The face of her very dead fiance.

Nolan.

Cam’s knees gave out and she dropped to the ground, the wind knocked from her lungs and a strangled, inhuman cry clawed up her throat. Prompto dropped next to her, asking what was wrong, what happened, trying to get her to look at him but she couldn’t respond, fixated on the zombified, demonified form of Nolan as it shuffled slowly towards them and the group of hunters. It growled and reached out a partially skeletal hand as a string of black goo shot out, singing the pavement in front of it: acid.

“OPEN FIRE!” one of the guards shouted, and they proceeded to unload their automatic weapons on Cam’s dead fiance, his body jutting frantically from the recoil as multiple gunners fired at once. Both red and black blood flew in violent sprays as the body was torn to shreds from their assault. No sooner had it made it’s entrance did it fall, defeated, into a pool of it’s own decomposed innards, dead for good.

Cam latched onto Prompto and held him painfully tight, fingers clawing at the lapels of his jacket, her body wracked with sobs as her entire world came crashing down. Still confused, he wrapped his arms around her as she pressed her face into his chest, her muffled scream echoing out into the endless night.

[clevernewdimension]

Inhumans Part Five

Parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine,

Genre: A/U, Angst, Violence, Fluff, Romance, more in the future.

Pairing: Yixing x Reader

Word Count: 5.4K

Summary: Inhumans are people born with powers, feared by most all over the world. Inhumans are often killed before the age of three or kept locked up and tested on. EXO is a rogue group of Inhumans who broke free and are now looking to free fellow Inhumans as well as get justice for their kind. However, with their powers come limitations. With these limitations, they sometimes need a helping hand.

“Are you sure about this,” I ask nervously, “We could just fix it easily, you know.”

Baekhyun shakes his head, “Look, he already said I could try since it’s not that bad, right?” He turns his head to Minseok, giving him playful, pleading eyes.

“I’m going to regret this,” He mutters. Looking up, he finds my eyes, “Besides, some of us should learn to do this just in case we can’t get to you in time.”

I sigh, handing Baekhyun the needle with the thread. “I don’t see why you’re learning first. You’re always in here giving instructions!” I point all around me, computers buzzing and screens taking up almost every inch of the walls. One was end to end, completely covered which, when not using it to look at security cameras, made for a pretty damn good movie watching screen. Cables all neat until you get to the desk, where there are some tech torn apart and a number of laptops that Baekhyun was slowly going through and hacking. The floor was completely plain, smooth concrete. We were all seated in chairs in the middle of the room. Three computer chairs that were kept here, two that were often pushed into the corner.

“It was MY idea,” Baekhyun says grinning, taking the needle from me, summoning the ball of bright light closer to Minseok’s arm, making it even brighter. “Here I thought you’d think it would be a great idea, since it would help keep Yixing safe!”

“Anyone else, yes. You with the needle? Not so much. You’d probably hurt anyone you’re stitching up more,” I tease, looking at the cut on his arm. “Clean the cut!”

“Rude,” Baekhyun pouts, pouring rubbing alcohol on the wound in a very ungracious manner. It pours it onto Minseok’s arm, as he lets out a hiss of pain.

“OW! A little warning next time,” Minseok yells, glaring at Baekhyun, yanking his arm away on instinct.

“Your bedside manner is atrocious,” I sigh, “Alright, now that the bleeding has slowed, you can begin AFTER you put on gloves!”

“Why? Why? I’ve washed my hands!”

“I don’t want to catch something from you,” Minseok explains, a smirk on his face.

“Like what? A sense of humor?”

“’Pain in the ass syndrome’ is more likely,” I laugh.

“That’s not a real thing,” He yells as he pouts. He puts on gloves, snapping them to his skin. Over the next few minutes, I instruct him on a basic suture, explaining calmly and slowly, just to be sure he’s learning right. His hands were quite shaky, showing that behind his jokes, he was actually fairly nervous.

I look over his handiwork, nodding, “A bit of a mess, but overall it does the job. Though try to keep the spaces between each stitch even.”

Baekhyun spins in his chair, holding up a V sigh. “Being a doctor is easy!”

I roll my eyes, shaking my head. I’d love to see him say that to a brain surgeon.

The screens all suddenly come to life, making a calling sound. Baekhyun slides over quickly, picking up a headset. “This is Baekhyun, the greatest doctor to ever live, who is this?” A second he pauses, taping on the keys quickly, bringing up multiple cameras, “Take a left now!”

“Whats happening,” Minseok asks, looking worried as he rolls his chair over.

I stand, moving next to them both, worried.

Baekhyun points to Minseok’s left. Minseok reaches over, getting two headsets, he hands one to me, putting one on himself.

I place it over my ears, hearing tires screeching and the sounds of guns.

“They’re gaining,” I hear Sehun yell over the coms.

“Get ready to take a left when I tell you,” Baekhyun instructs, bringing up something that looks like a jumbled mess of words and numbers. He clicks around, typing fast as he finds what he’s looking for. “Now!”

I watch on a security cam as they turn, barely beating the railroad crossing gates. They use to be just posts that come down, but now they’re like full blown walls that come down or, sometimes, up. The cars that were following them slam into them causing a huge accident.

“Alright,” Baekhyun says, “You might want to find a new vehicle, they’ve got the word about the van you're in now. They’re watching the cams. I can buy you time by playing previous footage of you on different streets to confuse them, but you have to make it quick!”

“We’re carrying small kids,” Yixing yells, “We can’t exactly switch cars!”

“Fuck,” Minseok yells and clenching his fists, “That was today?!”

“You’re close to a drop off,” Baekhyun explains, ignoring the man to his left, “Two rights, under the bridge, you know the one. The door is Neon’s. She can smuggle them out the country to freedom. After, you have to ditch the car and get somewhere fast, I can’t stop them for much longer. Seems like they’re getting use to my tricks.”

“How did you manage to get them out,” Minseok asks, “I thought their security was at it’s best at sundown.”

“They were hiring a new security team today,” Kyungsoo explains calmly, “It was the only chance we’d get to free them when their security was weakened.”

I hear Yixing speaking in another language, softly. A smaller, barely there voice speaking the same. The person he was speaking to was clearly scared. I sigh, trying to keep my heart rate even. I was worried, hopeful they’d be fine.

“Alright,” I hear Sehun say, “We’re almost there.”

“Playing footage from last night for the security cams near there,” Baekhyun says, “Don’t be seen, you’ll blow Neon’s operation and she’d kill us.”

I see on one screen, the footage from yesterday that the people chasing them would see, and next to it I see their van pull up, watching as Sehun jumps out, ushering children out. I see Yixing hop out, holding a small girl, hearing him still muttering words I couldn’t understand. They got them all inside quickly. I see a woman with bright green hair come out, saying things to Sehun. I gather that that is Neon, and that neon is her code name. He nods and I hear Sehun thank the woman. Barely a minute and they were speeding off once more.

“Alright,” Baekhyun says, “Now, ditch the car and have Jongin teleport you guys here. They’re shutting the city down trying to keep you all contained, you won’t be able to hide and drive off.”

“Right,” Junmyeon says, “Will do. Be in the main entrance soon.”

I took off my headset, beginning to walk to the entrance, Minseok quickly following my lead.

“I should have went today,” He complains, “I wanted to be there to help.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m glad it went well.” I say, our footsteps echoing in the hall.

He laughs, “Didn’t just go well, it went completely better than expected. Last time we tried to free those kids was… well, the night we went and got you. Needless to say we failed last time.”

Soon, five men appeared in sight. They all looked tired, and some of them with blood on them, but if it was their own, they’ve already been healed. Yixing had a nasty cut over his eye I didn’t notice in the security cams. The other four men were happy and grinning, while he looked lost in thought. Sehun was smiling and laughing, “We finally did it!”

Jongin grins, “About damn time, too! Calls for a celebration!”

“First showers,” Kyungsoo says, nodding towards the bathrooms. “You smell awful.”

Sehun crosses his arms, “Pretty sure you’re smelling yourself, Hyung.”

I stepped in front of Yixing, making him bump into me. I lose balance, about to hit the floor but he catches my arm, easily pulling me up. “Oh,” He says, “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“You need stitches,” I point to the opposite direction, “To the medical room. Now.”

Baekhyun who joined in, who was hugging Sehun, “Can I do it?!”

I see Junmyeon put a hand on Baekhyun’s arm. He mutters something to the younger man, quietly. Baekhyun nods, “Um… nevermind. I’m going to do… stuff…”

“What is going on with them,” I question, looking to where Yixing was, only to see him halfway to the medical room. I couldn’t help but wonder how someone so tall could be so quiet. I frown, wondering why he’s acting weird since getting back. These past couple weeks since the day I was almost killed, we’ve been talking and friendly. A lot better than before when he was avoiding me. That only meant that Sehun and Baekhyun’s teasing got worse, bringing Jongdae and Chanyeol in on it too. They were relentless.

I walk into the room, seeing him hold a rag to his eyebrow, a bottle of disinfectant in his hand. “I’m cleaning it,” He says, his voice which is usually happier now dull and almost emotionless, but there was a tiny hint of emotion there.

Sadness.

He sits on a stool that’s fairly tall, but I could see his cut easily from a standing position. I silently stitch his cut up, trying to go slower than normal to see if he was going to speak first. I know it’s quite painful, since he had no anesthesia, we had none. He didn’t flinch at all, his eyes avoiding looking into mine.

“The little girl,” He says, finally breaking the silence. His voice more timid than usual. “She… she’s from where I’m from. Changsha.”

“China,” I say, “So, you were speaking Chinese…”

“What,” He asks, looking at me confused.

“Minseok and I were listening in on the comms,” I explain, walking to find a new, clean rag. “And… well, when I first got here and showered, I hear someone singing in a language I didn’t know. I heard you singing. Now I know it was Chinese.”

“Oh,” He says, looking down, a blush forming on his cheeks, “I didn’t know you heard that. I should have put it together.”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” I smile, “You have a really nice voice! It was very calming.”

“Thank you,” He says, looking to the right. “But… she was taken from her family and sold to the Kiyoung corporation. They illegally buy Inhumans from other countries where it’s legal to be one.”

“What kind of an asshole would do that to people? Ugh. I’m glad you got her out of there, then,” I say, walking over with a new rag and wiping off blood from his face. “I can’t imagine what they do to them… to you all.”

He still avoids my gaze, “That happened to me. I was taken from my mother and sold here. To the Hyunsik’s company. I was alone and scared, just like her. Thankfully she was only there for a year, but… that’s still too long.”

I examine the stitches I did on him, “It is too long. I’m done, by the way.”

He looks up at me, “I’m glad you never had to go through what we did. It’s… like living a nightmare you can’t escape from. Now it’s like I’m living in a dream in comparison.” He stands, towering over me, smiling. “It just just a bit weird, like I was looking into the past in a way.”

“Yixing,” I start, “I… I want to ask you something, but I don’t want to upset you.”

“I doubt there is anything you could say that would upset me,” He says, stretching his arms.

“You said you were taken from your mother so... how come you haven’t gone back to China? To your mom?”

I see him freeze, tensing. I instantly knew that it was a very sore subject, one that was like a fresh wound. His hands turn into tight fists, but his face didn’t show anger. It showed pain. “You… you can’t return to someone who is dead.”

“How do you kn-”

“I just do,” He says, his voice growing stronger. It wasn’t mean, and he wasn’t yelling. He was just hurt. He turned away from me, taking a few steps to the door.

I frown, reaching out to him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t me-”

“I should go wash up,” He says, quickly exiting the room before I could touch him.

The air was forced out of my lungs as I laid there, looking up at the ceiling. I was panting heavily, sweat on my forehead. I see Minseok smile from above me, holding his hand out, pulling me up. “You’re getting much better. Stronger, too.”

“Yeah, she’d actually beat Baekhyun now,” Jongdae says, laughing, leaning into Baekhyun who was pouting. Chanyeol was laughing hysterically, also leaning into Baekhyun as he was sandwiched in between two people making fun of him.

“Remember, keep your feet apart, and knees bent a little,” Minseok instructs, “Your fast and excellent at dodging, but sometimes speed can’t beat someone who is a lot stronger than you.”

“Well, seeing as how I haven’t ever beaten you, or even Sehun for that matter, doesn’t seem as if speed helps at all.” I get myself ready, doing as he instructs. Taking a deep breath, I watch as he gets himself ready.

A second later, he steps forward, taking a swing, I move to the right, catching his wrist and hit him in the side as hard as I could. Before he could react, I step away, out of range of another one of his swings. What I wasn’t expecting was for him to swing his leg around. It hits me in my stomach, making me bend over. Before I knew it, I was, once again, looking up at the lights. I groan, grabbing my stomach, “Damn.” I frown, I can’t even beat them when they’re taking it very easy on me. How could I beat someone who was trying to hurt me?

“What’s going on here?”

I turn my head to the door from my spot on the floor, seeing the five who went out today coming in. They were clean, all of them with wet hair and smiles on their faces. Except one. He was still upset, but Yixing had a look of worry on his face.

“Junmyeon hyung,” Sehun says, “Remember, we’re teaching her to defend herself.” He glances at me from the floor, “Seems like it’s all been in vain, though.”

I frown, “I’m trying. I just… I don’t like hurting people!”

Sehun, who was now crouching over me, rolls his eyes. He glances over at Minseok, giving him a knowing smile and a wink. “Yes, yes, we know. But what happens if you’re taken and they try to kill you? What then?”

“I mean, it wouldn’t effect me really, if I died,” I say, taking a deep breath, closing my eyes.

“What does that even mean,” Kyungsoo asks. I glance over at him and he was giving me a confused look as he sat down on the edge of the trampoline.

“Well�� when you die, it’s just over. No more pain. No more sadness. It’s just done. Dying is the easy part, it’s living that’s hard.” I say, my voice becoming softer. “Being the person left behind when your loved one dies is the worst, and my mom is already gone so there’s really no one to miss me.”

Everyone was quiet except Sehun, who scoffed. “‘No one to miss you’? Bullshit. We would miss you, idiot. You hate hurting people, right? Getting killed would hurt us all. More than you even know. So, learn how to protect yourself so that doesn’t happen.”

I sigh, sitting up, “Fine.”

Sehun smirks, looking over at Minseok. “She’ll be fighting me.”

Minseok shrugs, walking over and taking his water to the trampoline, where he hopped up to take a seat.

“I’m just going to lose again,” I mutter, putting my fists up.

“Feet apart more,” Minseok yells.

I shift my feet, looking at Sehun who just stand there and smirks. “Oh, you’re going to fight,” Sehun confidently says. “Though, you’re so weak it’s a wonder how you can do anything.”

I roll my eyes, taking a swing at him. He moves to the left, smirking even more.

“I’m not even sure if you were captured if you’d even be able to save yourself,” He grins, “You’d probably just take the easy way out and let yourself die.”

I go to kick him, but he just catches my foot and shoves it back, making me stumble. Before I could regain my balance, I feel a fist connect with my face, sending me back more, but I was still on my feet. Sehun wasn’t taking it as easy on me as he normally does.

“Hey,” Yixing yells, “You’re suppose to be teaching her!”

Sehun ignores him, grinning wickedly at me. “What happens if one of us was captured and it was you who had to save us? What then? Would you be too scared to move? Would you be so terrified you’d piss your pants?”

I glare, trying to keep myself calm as I regain my posture, dodging one of his punches and punch him in the gut. If it hurt Sehun, he didn’t show it. He kicked me in the chest, sending my flying backwards. I hit the mat the a loud thud, my head colliding with it. My vision blurs for a moment, a weird metal taste in my mouth. My ears ringing, as I look up and see him standing over me. It was like I had tunnel vision, feeling anger rise up. My hands were shaking as I continued to glare at him.

“You’d probably be selfish and let us die,” He taunts.

I move to get up, but he shoves me down, crouching over me. I glare at him, “What?”

“You’d have to be willing to fight for us, Y/N. Hell, we’d all do it for you. We probably don’t matter to you at all. You’d let them take us so we could be tested on again!” He yells down at me.

I shove at him, “No! I’d never!”

“What happens if they get us? What if they kill us? Me, Minseok? Junmyeon? Baekhyun?” He sneers at me, “What if they attack Yixing? Threaten to hurt him? Would you run in, knowing you’d have to possibly fight in order to save him?” He was smirking, knowing he was pushing a button. Sehun takes my shoulders and slams me down, “Or would you be selfish and let him die? Because, honestly, it seems like yo-”

I bring my fist back and slam it into his jaw, getting him off balance as I shift back, kicking him in the chest. He falls backwards and lands on his back. I struggle to stand up, seeing him getting onto one knee. I rush over and punch him in the face, “I wouldn’t do that! How could you think that?!”

Sehun, despite having a bloody nose, was smirking. He grabbed my ankle, pulling me down on one knee before I feel a fist hit my face. I heard some yelling from behind me, but I was too angry to care. I was quicker to stand up, getting over to him and kneeing him in the face, causing him to fall. I kick him in the ribs, tears of anger falling from my eyes, “I wouldn’t let that happen! I wouldn’t! You have to believe me!”

I feel two hands grab me and pick me up as if it was nothing. Looking back, I see Kyungsoo holding me.

Sehun was smiling, blood pouring from his nose. He sits up as he laughs, “She did it, Hyung! It’s not that she can’t fight, she just doesn’t want to hurt us!” He stands, grabbing at his ribs with a hiss, “Fuck, that hurt, Noona.”

I watch as Yixing walks over, looking at Sehun. “You’re nose is broken, and you have a fractured rib,” He says, before even touching him, his voice tense. He grabs Sehun by the shirt collar, “What in the hell was that?”

“I had to make her angry,” Sehun explains, looking at him. “She’ll be fine. Split lip and a few bruises is all. I was still holding back.”

“Try a concussion, idiot,” Yixing exclaims, glaring at the youngest member. He sighs, placing his hand on his arm for a second before he turns to me. Kyungsoo was still holding me in their air, so that I was eye level with Yixing. “How do you feel,” He asks, looking in my eyes. They were softer than before, but still upset.

With my rage subsiding, it was hard to focus on anything. “I kind feel like I’m drunk.”

I see Yixing turn to glare at Sehun, who shrugs, “You can fix her, it’s fine.”

“That’s not the point,” Yixing growls at him, before turning and placing his hand on my forehead. I shiver at the cool feeling, closing my eyes as Kyungsoo sets me on my feet. I stumble slightly, grabbing Yixing to keep myself steady as I regain my balance. The world was clearer now, that was obvious. The taste in my mouth gone and my head was no longer spinning.

“You don’t believe what you said, right,” I ask timidly, glancing over at Sehun.

“Actually,” he says, standing up with a grin, “I believe the exact opposite. I thought you would have noticed I was lying when I was saying it seems like you would.”

“My head was kind of all over the place then. When people lie to me, I get this warm feeling all over the inside of my head. I couldn’t really tell if I felt anything or not.”

“I’m sorry,” Sehun says sincerely, “I didn’t mean to actually hurt you. I guess I’m so use to fighting people like Minseok that when I wasn’t taking it completely easy on you, I went a bit harder than I thought. I forgot you're a bit more fragile.” He turns, walking towards the door, “Besides, I have a feeling that if it ever happened again, SOMEONE would beat me to a pulp.”

“Yeah,” Beakhyun yells angrily, “Me! I can’t believe you did that!” He rushes after him.

“Baek, I forgave him already, stop,” I say with a sigh, knowing they’re too far to hear me. I look up at Yixing, “Thank you, again. I should go stop them before Baekhyun gets himself hurt.”

Kyungsoo laughed at that as I bolted past them, running to catch up.

After I managed to keep Baekhyun from antagonizing Sehun, we had dinner. It was a lot of rice, pork belly, and a multitude of sides. What’s different this time is a couple bottles were being passed around in celebration of freeing the children. Two soju and one wine, though there were also some beers in the refrigerator. Other than the one shot they had me do with them in celebration, I declined the rest. I was a light weight and i’m really embarrassing when i’m drunk.

Many of the five that went out today are getting completely wasted. Sehun, Jongin, Chanyeol, Yixing and Jongdae were all completely drunk. Minseok was like me, didn’t drink besides the shot, so he was the most sober besides me. As the night went on into the early morning, everyone was getting separated, sober ones helping drunk ones to their rooms.

Junmyeon pulled Sehun’s arm around his shoulders, lifting him to his feet. “Come on, let’s get to to bed.”

“But Suho,” the maknae whines, calling him my his code name. “I just wanna stay and talk some more.” His words slurring into each other.

“Not happening,” Junmyeon says with a laugh, looking over at me, “Think you can handle Yixing?”

“I’ll try,” I say, putting my hand on his arm, “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

He smiles with his eyes closed, standing before stumbling a bit, “Ohhhh okay!”

I get his arm over my shoulders as we start to walk slowly to his room. If I wasn’t here he would have ran into a wall. He leans on me, resting his head on mine. “Where are we going?”

I pull him up as he was almost falling to the ground, “We’re going to your room. Got to get to your bed safe and sound.”

I hear him laugh, pushing himself away from me to look me in the eyes, His face was flushed and his eyes hazed over from the alcohol. He smirks at me, leaning close to my ear. “Y/N, that’s a bit forward, don’t you think,” He asks in a whisper, his words also slurring together.

I blush, “Um… that isn’t what I meant!”

I hear him chuckle. “Are you sure it’s not?” He stumbles and I barely hold us up as we finally reach the door to the clock tower stairs.

“I’m not going to take advantage of you,” I says as we slowly climb the stairs. “I don’t want to do that while you’re drunk.”

“What about when I’m sober,” He murmurs in my ear before pulling away and smirking.

My face was burning red as I ignore him. “I wish someone would have warned me you were a horny drunk,” I mutter to myself.

We continue up the stairs, him mumbling in Chinese words I can’t understand. It took another 15 minutes, but we finally get into the room as I help him onto his bed that’s up the stairs. I push him onto the bed, taking a deep breath. He’s really fit, but he was still heavier than I expected. “Goodnight Yixing,” I say, turning.

“I’m sorry,” He says, a small hiccup following right after. “I didn’t mean to get upset at you earlier…”

I turn back, looking at him, “Yixing, it’s fine. You don’t owe me any answers if you don’t want to give them.”

“It’s just painful,” He says, looking up at the ceiling. His bloodshot eyes filling with tears. “I understand what it feels like to lose a mother, Y/N. I did all I could and I still couldn’t…” He closes his eyes. I sit next to him on his bed and watch as tears fall from his eyes.

“They had her,” He says, his voice trembling. “I know she died because they had taken her from China and brought her here. I refused to use my power. They did so many awful things to others, but I still refused. Minseok still has the scar from when I didn’t heal him one time in there.”

I lean forward, wiping away his tears, “You don’t have to tell me this Yixing. You’re drunk and not thinking straight.”

“I made the decision to tell you before I was drunk,” He says, looking at me. I don’t feel the warmth in my mind, knowing that was the truth. His breath smells of beer and soju, words still slurring as one of his hands takes mine. “I drank that much because then I’d have the courage to talk about it. To think about it.”

“Then I’ll listen,” I say, rubbing my thumb on his cheek, wiping away another tear.

“I refused, so they took her from China. My own father helped get her here. He didn’t know I was an Inhuman until I was six. He got a really bad cut on his arm, and I put my hand on him in worry and it just happened. Once he found out he was disgusted,” Yixing says bitterly, glaring at the ceiling. “He hated mother after that, knowing she had the Inhuman gene. Fucking hypocrite. It takes both parents to have it.”

I stay silent, rubbing his shoulder comfortingly, trying to make it easier for him to speak. My own eyes were filling with tears as I listen to him speak. I was afraid that if I spoke right now, I’d scare him away like I did earlier.

“They told me ‘If you won’t heal them, you’ll heal her’. Then they shot her in the chest. They kept me chained up just far enough away so that I could barely touch her. They didn’t want me to shield her with my body.” He clenches a fist, “And every time I heal her, they did it again. Again, again, again, again!” His fist hit the mattress every time he said again as he did everything he could not to start to sob.

Tears fell freely from my eyes. My mind only filled with worry for him.

“It went on for days. Every minute of every hour,” He yelled, “I kept healing her, and she’d kept getting shot. She’d scream every time. It’s one of the worse sounds I’ve ever heard.” He started to sob, sitting up with his head in his hands. “I often wondered if she hated me for trying so hard to keep her alive. The pain she must of felt each time… it would have been more merciful to have just let her die the first time.” His hands grip his hair as he shakes, “I was so cruel to keep her alive to suffer that. And in the end it did even fucking matter. I passed out due to exhaustion after healing her one last time, and when I woke up, they shot her again, only this time, I was chained away where I couldn’t reach her.”

I pull him to me, hugging him as he rests his head on my shoulder, wrapping his arms around me. I rub his back as he cried uncontrollably. My heart hurting for him as I cried silently, whispering to him sweet words and trying to take the pain away, knowing that it was impossible. He squeezed me tighter hugging me as if I was the last thing keeping him on earth.

Soon, his tears slowed and stopped as he looked up at me. His eyes redder from crying. “I’m sorry for making you cry,” He says, wiping my tears away.

“Don’t worry about that.” I take his face in my hands, “Yixing. I want to ask you something.” He simply nods, removing his hands from around me. I close my eyes and hope this wouldn’t upset him. “What… what was the last thing your mother said to you?”

He closes his eyes, trying to turn his head from me, but I kept his face where it was. “She said, in Chinese, ‘I love you, my little lamb. I always have and I always will.’”

“A mother’s love is unconditional,” I say, making him look at me. “She told you she loved you. Never doubt that. Why would she waste her last words on something that she didn’t truly feel with her whole heart?”

He looks at me, trying hard not to cry once again. He sits up completely straight, leaning forward. He pulls me towards him, his lips meeting my forehead. The skin there warm as I blush. My heartbeat going faster as he pulls away, looking deep into my eyes. “Thank you,” He whispers.

I hug him tightly again, rubbing his back. It wasn’t long until he’s asleep in my arms. I gently lay him down, pulling the blanket over him. I sit there a few moments more, smiling at the look of peace on his face. Soon, I get up, quietly going down the stairs as tears flowed down my eyes once more. The second I open the door that leads to the clock tower, I see Minseok and Baekhyun standing there, looking at me sadly.

“We know,” Baekhyun says quietly, “We know he told you.”

“He told us he would,” Minseok says sadly.

For the first time that night after hearing what those awful people put Yixing through, I pulled them both to me as I broke down sobbing. They both calm me much like I did with Yixing, and as they whisper sweet and kind things to me, I couldn’t help to wonder what they have been through as well.

An hour later of them talking to me, I finally made it back to my room.

“Are you sure you’re going to be ok,” Minseok asks, worry on his face.

I couldn’t bring myself to speak, so I nod. After a few more moments of them asking if I was fine, they left me with my thoughts. I flopped down on my bed over the blankets, pulling my knees to my chest. My thoughts filled with thoughts of Yixing as I finally start to drift to sleep as the sun started to rise. My rest plagued with nightmares as my mind creates what he confessed to me a few hours earlier.