#i miss my dead blue space on the left.

[merrilark]

.......why is tumblr desktop laid out like twitter now.

[deadsetobsessions]

“I ate paint once,” Danny nonchalantly threw out in the middle of game night.

The entire table stopped. Heads whipped towards Danny.

“Yeah, me too. Cardamom yellow was my favorite. Ugly as hell but the chemicals just tasted right.” Tim replied, using the distraction to nab some of Bruce’s money. Monopoly money, that is. Everyone’s heads snapped towards Tim, only Cass and Danny (who was part of the scheme) caught him cheating.

“Really? I think mine was those spray can blue cosmos paint. But that might have been more my thing for space than the actual taste.”

“WHY WERE YOU EATING PAINT?!” Dick asked, looking like he wanted to lunge over the table and shake Danny until he puked out paint. Bruce looked like he was about to have a heart attack.

“Yeah, what the fuck, Tim?” Jason snickered.

“In my defense,” Danny grinned. “I was left unsupervised. Also, Steph, you owe me $24 in rent.”

“Ugh! I’m almost out of money! Can’t you loan me some, Alfred?”

“I am sorry, Miss Stephanie, you are not qualified for another loan. In fact, one of your properties is about to be confiscated as per the collateral agreement.”

“Noooo!” Stephanie made dramatic dying noises.

“What was your excuse, Timothy?” Damian asked, eyes glued to the board and determined to win the game.

“Hey, I was probably less supervised than Danny was.”

“Yeah,” Danny perked up. “My parents brought us down to their lab all of the time. Taught us a lot of stuff.”

“Really? Like what?” Duke asked, casually slapping away Tim’s sneaky hands.

“Oh, like what a rocket launcher sounded like up close! And how to build a laser gun! Oh! And what human organs looked like when they’re fresh!” Danny chirped, collecting his money from a stunned Stephanie’s hands. He looked up.

“Oh, don’t worry! I at least learned what not to do when it comes to lab safety. And we wore hazmat suits to protect ourselves from the radiation.” Danny smiled in a ditzy fashion as the table fell silent in a horrified manner. Cass tapped his arm amusedly, but allowed his bullshit to stand. After all, it’s not like he lied.

“Radiation?” Duck’s voice raised a couple of octaves. Oh yeah, Danny’s going to laugh about that pitch for a long while.

“Organs?!” Jason’s hands closed around the plastic house he was holding rather forcefully.

“Do you even know what basic lab safety practices are, Danny?” Damian demanded, finally looking up with brows furrowed. He rolled the dice and grabbed a mystery card. He gets $100 from Alfred.

“How old were you??” Duke asked.

“Like… 8, when they first brought me in?”

“Eight.” Bruce rumbled, slipping into a more Batman like persona. When Danny sent him a confused look, Bruce straightened back into his Bruce persona. “Wow, they must have trusted you a lot!”

“Sure?”

“What were their names again?” Stephanie asked sweetly, Cass nodding at him.

“Jack and Maddie Fenton.” Not that they’ll find them here, considering his parents are dead and in another universe.

“Cool, cool, cool!” Stephanie blinked, beaming as her hands formed lethal fists underneath the table.

Danny blinked and tilted his head in an unassuming way, pretending like he had no idea what Stephanie was thinking of. He sneakily handed over $600 to Cass in order to complete his monopoly on his side of the board.

Danny stood up and spread his hands out, one hand clutching his new found victory.

"Well, lady and gents, you've all been floundering against the inevitable tide of capitalism. I am here, as a reminder that you can never win against the hopelessness that will be your financial ruin! I, Danny Fenton, have obtained a quarter of the board and therefore have won against even your best efforts!" He cackled, holding up his fan of properties triumphantly. He shot a mischievous grin at Cass, who held up a solemn thumbs up in support for his monetary takeover.

"... Danny, are you... planning on a career in villainy?" Bruce asked, after a brief and total wave of shocked silence. Damian looked like he was having a conniption at having been bested, unknowingly. Yeah, Danny was disarming like that.

"Yeah, that was concerning." Tim piped up, nabbing a ten from a shell-shocked Damian.

"Hey! The Riddler gives surprisingly good monologues! And he's really loud, so it's hard not to pick up on things. Duke, your turn." Danny sat back down, pouting. The villainy comment was a little too close to his fears.

"Damn it." Duke, who had rolled, landed smack middle of Danny's territory. He handed over a sheaf of bills to a grinning Danny.

"Wait a minute! You have cheated!" Damian bolted upwards from his seat, finally done running through the purchases he remembered Danny making. "You acquired that property not within the games' rules!"

"Okay, first of all, the rule book is a suggestion, like lab safety rules," Danny saw the others open their mouths to protest, but he quickly shut it down. "Second, there's totally no rules about selling and buying places from a private owner so suck on it. And thirdly? Cass sold it to me, so you all can take it up with her."

"Diabolical!" Damian muttered indignantly.

"... Dammit." Dick sighed, falling back into the chair and balancing on its two legs. He couldn't say anything, considering his current of bankruptcy.

"Danny. Danny, I'll buy a property from you." Jason said, eyeing one of Danny's other properties near his own cluster.

"What do you have that would interest me?" Danny asked, falling back into his Vlad-like imitation.

"Ew, don't do that," Steph reached over to jab him in the arm.

"Yeah, Jason, what do you have?" Duke said, the lovely subtle instigator that he is.

"Red Hood's signature."

The others blue-screen, gaping at the actual audacity Jason had to offer up something that would take him no effort. Danny, prepared with a poker face that came with lying straight to Jazz's ever perceptive eyes about whether he nabbed the last of her ice cream or not, was prepared.

"Red Hood? The condom guy working out of the... um. Upper East Side?" Danny asked, pretending to hesitate. He knows where Jason operated. That doesn't mean he couldn't simply pretend otherwise. For science, of course.

...

...

...

The table howled with laughter, Jason's indignant spluttering unable to say anything against Danny's wide eyed look of innocence. Cass leaned against the table, chuckles falling out of her mouth and eyes crinkled in mirth. Dick had fallen out of his chair, helplessly wheezing on the floor. Duke is hiding his face in his hands, mirroring Bruce's pose as they both shake from silent laughter. Damian is smirking, wicked and sharp as he smugly stared at Jason. Stephanie and Tim are leaning against each other, repeating "the CONDOM GUY" in alternating and increasingly louder voices. Alfred had a smile on his face and a tight grip on the bills in front of him that betrayed his amusement.

"He's a crime lord!" Jason exclaimed, indignant.

"Uh, okay. Well, I mean, why would I want a crime lord's signature? I don't want to be on his radar. Or echolocation or whatever. He's... a Bat, right? That's what you guys call that group, yeah?"

"How do you know the Rogues better than the vigilantes?!" Jason glared at his unhelpful family. Those assholes better prepare for a load of rubber bullets the next time they're on patrol near Crime Alley.

"Hey, it's not my fault the vigilantes here are unsociable. Maybe if they monologued more, I'd know who they are."

"Wouldn't- wouldn't that make them more villain like?" Tim asked, stuttering from his laughter.

"I dunno?" Danny replied, enjoying his the family's unabashed joy. "I mean, they're pretty legit and they help people already so I guess they don't need to be sociable... but still I swear I haven't heard anything about Batman other than that he grunts and is mean towards criminals."

Is mean towards criminals, Duke mouthed at a recovering Dick who was in the process of heaving himself back up. It sent him careening back down to the floor with restrained giggles. Cass tapped Danny, reminding him to eat some food.

"Tt. Of course not. They're efficient at their jobs and have no need to be seen as welcoming to criminals." Damian puffed up.

"Yeah, but they've gotta feel safe, right?" Danny shrugged as he plucked a cookie from the cookie platter. "The... one with the sword, what was it?"

"Robin." Damian supplied, eyes narrowed and trained on him.

"Yeah, the baby bird. The kids think his swords are cool so they trust him. But like, the others? The flippy blue one? Not so much."

"Wait," Dick said from the floor. "They don't trust Nightwing?"

"Nah, they trust him to protect them, but he has a history of bringing the kids to the police, you know?"

"What's wrong with that?"

Danny shrugged. "ACAB. But also because everybody knows that half the guys in the GCPD and CPS are child traffickers."

"Wait, what?" Jason and Tim straightened.

Bruce piped in, the emotional whiplash of amusement to concern to amusement to concern visibly making itself known on the man's baffled face. "I thought Batman and Commissioner Gordon took care of that?"

"Sure, the obvious ones." Danny hesitated. Well, he's pretty sure they think he's a meta so... "There's... a meta trafficking ring that they're a part of. That's. That's kind of what I was running from."

Danny looked up pleadingly. Cass placed a hand on his arm in comfort, not knowing that he was fibbing about running from them.

Danny was on the streets helping his own Alley metas to run from them.

Danny is as feral as she was, and that meant he could hide just as much as she could read off of him. Cass was the best and he felt kind of bad about lying to her, successfully or not.

"Uh. Some people said you know Batman, Bruce. I know- uh, that might not be the case but if you do, could you ask him to look into it?" Danny made his eyes tear up. "And maybe he wouldn't care about me much, I mean, I know he doesn't really like metas but if he helps out, I could totally like, leave the city once the kids are safe, promise."

Ooh, Danny put a little too much sincerity into that. He could practically hear the hearts breaking in the game room as everyone glared at Bruce.

"You won't have to leave."

"... Promise?" And Danny's voice was a little too desperate, too hopeful, because Bruce's eyes tugged down in sadness.

"Promise." He rumbled, all Bruce Wayne and all Batman. Danny's core warmed. Danny also saw the rest of the family's faces darken in pure agreement. And partial wrath.

"Yeah! We'll kick Batman's ass if he even thought about kicking you out!" Stephanie proclaimed.

"He's far more proficient in combat than you are, Brown." Damian immediately leapt to Batman's defense and that was that.

Well, later, as Danny was "sleeping" and Phantom was hovering in the cave, invisible and intangible, he got confirmation that his Alley meta kids were going to be safe, soon.

After all, the entire Batclan was suiting up and baying for blood, with Oracle's all encompassing presence behind them, fingers reaching for their enemies' weak points.

[curly-my-beloved]

“And I can't exist without you” Curly x Reader

i. i've been waiting by my grave

waiting for you to rescue me, my love

come back from the dead

You'd look up at the night sky often. Each night, even. Especially now. Especially these days.

By now, it was routine. You'd go to the balcony of your house (one that he bought) and use the ladder to climb on the rooftop so you could lay down on it, looking at the stars.

... why was the ladder there again?

Oh, that's right. He left it there. He put there for you.

So you could look at him.

Oh, what a fool that man was. And yet, you loved him so damn much... so, so much it hurt. Especially now.

Now that he was gone.

He was supposed to be back a year ago. And yet... he disappeared. And since you didn't get to marry him, they would use that damn technicality against you.

You tried everything, but nothing worked. Not even a lawsuit.

You were stuck. Stuck with a ring on your finger...

And without him.

ii. and i can't exist without you

i can't exist without you

You felt tears falling down your cheeks as you looked at the full moon and all the stars around it. You could almost hear him. Almost feel him.

You remembered it all too well. Your head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around you. You remembered his small chuckles as you confused the constellations. He always seemed to know all the stars so well.

It was so sweet.

You remembered smiling and giggling at the child-like wonder in his eyes. In moments like this, all your worries seemed to fade away. It was just you, him and the night sky.

It was not the same anymore.

It was almost like phantom pain where you couldn't feel his body against yours.

It was almost piercing just how silent the world was without his voice and heartbeat.

It was almost colorless without those damn bright blue eyes of his looking at you lovingly when you woke up.

God, you missed him.

iii. you are my cure

in this infected world

and i can't do this without you

i'm dying here without you

Curly didn't know when he woke up. One moment, he was frozen, drifting in space on the Tulpar, all his crewmates dead... the next, there was a team of doctors above him.

He wasn't sure what was going on. His mind was too hazy, still trying to handle everything that happened to him. To his crew.

His mind kept going from them to you. He never forgot you.

Even with how fuzzy his mind was, clouded by the constant pain he felt, you always remained in his mind and heart. Sometimes he even hallucinated in his agony, seeing you sitting on the edge of the bed, holding his face and hushing him with the sweetest, softest whisper.

You'd promise him everything would be alright. Talk about your plans. You'd remind him about the silly cat or dog debate that never got to reach a conclusion.

You'd wear the beautiful ring he got you, talking to him about the wedding you two were planning once he comes back home.

He'd sob every night, prying to once day get to hold you in his arms again.

The only real cure for his pain. The light in the dark.

God, he missed you.

iv. i don't belong here without you...

Hope is the mother of all fools, and yet, it always dies last.

Your hope never died.

Almost two decades passed since he disappeared.

And yet, as your hair greyed and your skin started to lose it's youthful glow, you never lost hope.

You kept waiting.

You'd rather die a widow than even think about loving another, after all.

And yet, one day, you got a call from a hospital hours away from your home.

They asked for your name and if you knew a man called Curly. Shocked, yet hopeful, you told them that yes, you were engaged to Grant Curly.

He was finally found.

v. i wanna lie with your bones forever...

You'd recognize those god damn bright blue eyes of his anywhere.

From the moment his one remaining eye met yours, you know it was him. As damaged as he was, it was him. Curly. The love of your live.

You had no idea how long you were there with him, holding his burned face and leaving the gentlest, most love filled kisses on it as relieved tears streamed down your face.

You'd rest your forehead against his chest, finally feeling his heartbeat again after all those years, hearing his the fast yet steady rhythm between your sobs.

You could finally feel his arms around you again, even if they were much skinnier, with stumps instead of the big hands you always loved to hold.

It was him. The man you loved so much.

And as you looked into his eye, that beautiful, gorgeous blue eyes of his...

You could see your world was slowly regaining its colors.

Just like his world was slowly regaining the light.

You were together again.

God, you've both missed this so much.

[help-itrappedmyself]

Dead on Main AU 2

Masterpost

Jason blinks and he is not where he used to be. He can already tell he’s shorter and skinnier, and he’s staring at physics homework so he’s probably younger too. It takes him a moment to run all the scenarios. He knows what is most likely, he knows that soulmates body swap at sixteen and... Well, he’s not sure if he was dead or not for his sixteenth birthday, but he had been living on the assumption that he had missed it, whenever it was. 

Now he thinks that he’s the older one in this relationship. If his soulmate just turned sixteen, he’s still a minor. Society gets a little more lax about these things when it comes to actual soulmate relationships, but Jason- despite the age difference only being around two years- is not lax about it at all. So if this is what he thinks it is, he is going to have to have a talk with his soulmate about being just friends for a while. 

Which should be fine, it’s not like they know each other at all yet. Getting to know each other should take a while anyways. Though, he could start that now.

He looked to the right and saw the door to the bedroom on the same wall as the desk he was sitting at, and the door to the closet on the next wall. The bed is against the wall behind the desk, sitting in between two windows. There’s a nightstand with a lamp on it next to the bed and a chest of drawers against the wall to his left that has a mirror hanging over it. There are space posters on the walls all around the room.

Jason gets up and walks over to the mirror. The boy in the mirror is short and skinny, just like he thought. He has blue eyes and black hair that flops over his face. Jason takes a second to wonder if the kid had plans for his birthday, realizing probably not. It’s tradition nowadays to spend your sixteenth birthday with just your family in case the switch is made. 

So, Jason's soulmate is what appears to be a normal, messy teenager. Posters, clothes on the floor, homework to do. Jason goes over to double check the homework, to see if he can find any that’s finished. There, his math assignment is already done, and it seems his soulmate’s name is Danny Fenton. He takes a closer look at all the school supplies and in his backpack and doesn’t find anything with the school name on it. 

Taking another look around the room, Jason doesn’t see a phone, and it wasn’t in the backpack. Jason tries not to feel weird as he pats around his soulmate’s pockets. He finds a phone, thinks for a second, then types in his own number and calls.

It rings for a second. Someone picks up, but all Jason can hear is shouting until he hears his own voice.

“Um, hello, Jason?”

“Yeah, this is Jason. You with my family?” 

“If the people that were in the room with you before are your family. I really only have confirmation that one of them is your dad.”

“Have those motherfuckers not even introduced themselves?” 

“Sort of. Eventually.” Jason heaves a long sigh. Danny chuckles.

“Right, well your name is Danny right?”

“Yeah! Have you talked to my family yet?”

“No, haven’t left your room. Your name was on your homework though.”

“Oh, please do not judge the homework.” Jason laughs, he does not know how Danny made his voice sound like that, breathy and higher than his voice has been in years.

“Didn’t even look at that part. So, I’m assuming that you guys are coming to me?”

“I think so?” There’s a bit of a commotion. “Stop it, buzz off!”Is said away from the phone. “They said yes.”

“Please tell me they’re not all planning on coming.”

Danny makes an I don’t know sort of hum. “Look, I do need to warn you… about a few things actually. Jazz, my sister, her room is across the hall and she’ll be able to help you if you. I sort of have… like a medical condition. I would rather explain that to you in person, but she’ll watch out for you if you go meet her.”

“I can do that. Anything I should look out for?”

“My parents leave all kinds of weapons around the house, and sometimes they’ll target me-you- at random, so try not to touch anything, and either stay upstairs or have my sister take you somewhere in town. Whatever you do, don’t go in the basement, the lab is down there.”

“Kid, what?” Jason rubs his hand down his face.

“This is really an in-person talk.”

Jason feels like he can relate. There are a lot of things a soulmate should know that Jason doesn’t know if he’s ever going to tell Danny but if he did he would want it to be in-person. “Sure, okay. Find Jazz, preferably leave the house.”

“Yep!” Again, Jason does not understand how Danny makes his voice sound so peppy. “Is there anything I should know?”

“Shit, if I had time I would give you a warning about everyone in my family individually, but for now… I don’t know if this will translate over…” It will, but there’s really no way to explain that. “I have… I guess it’s sort of a health condition as well. My family knows what triggers it, and they should be on their best behavior right now anyways, but if you wouldn’t mind putting someone on the phone I can threaten them properly.”

Danny laughs and Jason hears a beep, before “You’re on speaker!” is called out.

“I swear to god if any of you scare him, hurt him, or anything I’m going to kill you. I know everything you love and if you don’t act normal, just know, it will be destroyed.”

“Yeah, yeah. Jay, this is your soulmate!” Dick sounds way too excited.

“Also, most of us love you so that threat doesn’t work as well as you think it does.” Steph yells.

“Bitch, I died once, I’ll do it again. Don’t test me on this right now.”

The room through the phone quiets down quickly except for Danny’s laughter.

“Oh, wow, same.”

“Danny! You know how we feel about the death jokes.” Jason hears as the door behind him opens. Talking starts up on the other end of the line, but he ignores it for the moment as a tall redhead walks in the room. She stops in front of him and raises her eyebrow.

“You must be Jazz.” Jason says. This gets a hush on the other end of the line. “I’m Jason.”

[ive-been-timebombed]

Part one

Danny is the daddy! And king- same thing.

Summoning rituals are the absolute worst. It happens too often and always ends up with one too many bruises.

Red Hood shifted on his knees and pulled at the rope that held his arms behind his back. He looked to Nightwing who was to the right of him in a similar situation only with more rope and tighter knots, he kept escaping so the cultists improvised. Red Hood looked back to the main excitement in the room and rolled his eyes at the idiotic scene.

A big circle of intricate lines and displays of many items. There were five displays, which Jason can only assume were offerings, one had a bag of food that looked similar to batburger. The second had what looked like a child’s school project on the solar system. The third held a map and a.. baby’s doll.? Jesus, what is this idiot summoning? The fourth was of a bright green liquid... Lazarus Pits? It was brighter than the actual pits and looked cleaner. Not to mention the bubbling was also missing from the vile of the pits. The last was a plant and a bag of sand... Jason gave up on trying to understand whatever the hell the fugly dude was trying to summon.

Speaking of.. the man that was scurrying around the circle looking at it making sure everything was good. He looked insane, with almost bright blue skin, black hair, and cultist-type robes. Not to mention the slight transparency of the man. Jason decided his name was gonna be Wickham.

“Oh finally! I’ll get to summon my king to this blasted world” Wickham stepped back from his summoning circle with a wicked grin, “If only my king didn’t have such strange needs to be summoned..” Wickham looked over to the vigilantes and moved in front of them his hands folding behind his back

“I guess you guys don’t know what I’m summoning do y’all?” Oh great.. he’s about to go on a rant.. “Don’t worry! You’ll find out soon!” Wickham turned to his circle again and stood in front of it. He got down to his knees bowing his head and bringing his hands together. He started to speak, a language Jason had never heard, and by the sounds of it neither had Dick.

The circle started to glow the Lazarus green. Jason felt like he couldn’t breathe. The weight of the ritual was suffocating, and despite feeling like he could grasp Wickham's words, they remained nonsensical.

Strangely enough, Jason couldn’t understand what he was feeling. It felt like longing for something that he never had.. like a warm hug from his father, Willis. He could feel excitement and yearning for the green to overcome the room and cover him in the comfort of.. the distant memory of singing and the cold of a rooftop.

_______________

Despite what many had assumed of Danny, he quite enjoyed the summonings. They weren’t too often and gave him an excuse to leave his boring meetings. When he felt the pull of a summons he grinned and waved to the idiot ghosts that were arguing in front of him and disappeared.

He opened his eyes seeing the usual scene of his summonings.. ignoring the strangely dressed mortals that were tied up near the wall.

“King of the Infinite Realms, Ancient of space and the unknown, Defeater of Pariah Dark, Honored of the Far Frozen, Knight of-“ The summoner listed off. Danny sighed he should really get rid of most of the titles..

“Blah- Blah- Blah. What do you want, Mortal..”Danny asked looking down at the summoner and hesitated at the end seeing the slight transparency of him..

The summoner stopped speaking and bowed further to the ground, “My King! I ask that you cleanse this cursed world and take it for your own! With me as your trust-“ Danny once again interrupted

“I’m good, already own this dimension. It’s only one of the infinite-“ Danny groaned before he froze.. this dimension.. it was his home dimension. The very same he was born in and dead. The same he protected with his undead life when ghosts invaded his town.. The same he left his child in to live in..

“My liege?” The summoner spoke up hesitantly glancing up at the halfa.

Danny didn’t bother to acknowledge the mortal. He was to distracted by the small very similar essence to his own only a few steps away. He looked to the tied up mortals and stared at the one that had a red helmet. The red helmet stared back his core begging for help and the support of its paternal core essence.

When Danny was first introduced to the idea of being king he was put in lessons by the many leaders around the realms. First was with Frostbite, the Leader of the Far Frozen, who taught him the biology and science behind ghost. Embarrassingly, he also had to sit through the sex talk once again. But from what he was taught when a ghost has a child or Ling short for Ghostling. That Ling would be connected to its parents or parent for ectoplasm as it would be to young to absorb ectoplasm on its own. The steady stream of ectoplasm would be used to power the young ghostlings core and nurture it to start absorbing ectoplasm on its own. The connection also helped the parent when they needed the location of their ling or just wanted to check up on them. The connection was like a cellphone that only connected to the child to the parent. It told them the location, needs, even if the Ling needed extra ectoplasm. It could be used for a call to come or even a scream for help.

When Danny was younger he had a kid.. the baby was an accident that he didn’t know about till it was left on his doorstep with a letter saying it was his. He called the kid his Baby JayJay short for Jason. He couldn’t feel a core inside the child so he assumed that Jay didn’t inherit his ghostly habits. So he didn’t form the connection between their cores, he didn’t want to hurt the still living soul of his baby by feeding it unneeded ectoplasm. Danny couldn’t stay in his dimension however.. due to the active laws against his kind. And he didn’t want to drag his child into something he didn’t need to be apart of. So he forced down his core wants and said goodbye to his baby JayJay. Then left for the infinite realms to be crowned and ever wondering what happened to his baby.

_________________

Jason couldn’t describe the feeling when he saw the being Wickham had summon finally appear.

It was a human body despite the many not human things. Their hair was a snow white and their eyes glowed a bright green. The clothes they wore had similarities of kings clothing it was a black with gold accents and a star covered cape. The cape floated like it went beyond gravity which Jason assume it did. The man had sharp canines and pointed ears. His hair floated similar to his cape, defying gravity. The feet of the being faded to invisible as it reached the floor. The glowing green flickering off to blue crown on the beings head drooped back a the being landed on the ground.

“King of the Infinite Realms, Ancient of space and the unknown, Defeater of Pariah Dark, Honored of the Far Frozen, Knight of-“ Wickham started before being interrupted by the being.. King Phantom?

“Blah- Blah- Blah. What do you want, Mortal..” The kings voice was echoey and smooth, Jason swore he heard the voice before.

“My King! I ask that you cleanse this cursed world and take it for your own! With me as your trust-“ Do Wickham was a stereotypical cultist. Only wanting one thing that will likely never gain. The being interrupted him again.

“I’m good, already own this dimension. It’s only one of the infinite-“ The king rolled their eyes before they froze their voice stopping with them. They were looking off into the distance so Jason could only guess the being realized something.

Wickhams voice felt muffled when Jason heard him as the being looked straight at him and Jason stared back.

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part eleven —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 2.6k tags: death. blood. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: here ya go

A dry mouth and a symphony of aches awaken you.

Ambery light spills through the cracks of the hunting cabin, catching the silvery glint of dust particles in the air. It must be morning or possibly even noon based on how rested you feel. As your eyes peel open, you can see everything better than last night. The cramped space is mostly barren. There are some rusted animal traps in the corner and a faded poster with dancing bears and cheesy lettering: NATURE BE OUT HERE WILDIN'. Blue's head lays upon your shoulder. Gently, you maneuver it off, but her lashes flutter open despite your efforts. 

"Twix?"

"Hey," you whisper. "Everything's okay. You can go back to sleep."

"Can you... get me some water?"

Ghost's backpack is likely off-limits, but you go through it, anyway. Beneath cigarettes and tools you don't even know the name of, you retrieve the canister of water and usher it to her lips. She sips weakly. The blanket covering her falls to her waist, revealing a bare, bandaged leg. Ghost must've taken off her blood and urine-stained jeans. You tuck the insulated blanket back over her and touch her forehead, relieved to feel the skin is cool.

"How are you feeling?" 

She lays back down, wincing. "It hurts. And... and I'm tired."

"That's normal. Your body is working hard to heal. Do you need anything else?"

There is the smallest shake of her head before her slack eyelids lower back down.

Ghost is leaning against the side of the cabin when you slip outside. He must have a tolerance for the cold to have stayed out here all night without his jacket. Only a black thermal hugs his chest, a dried stain at the side where you nursed his wound. His stare instantly finds you, alert yet ringed with faint lines of fatigue.

"She's doing good," you announce quietly. "Still sleeping and no fever. Did you see anything out here?"

Ghost clears his throat before speaking, voice rougher than usual from the hours of disuse. "No." His eyes flicker down to your legs. The jacket, although leagues warmer than your own, falls above your knees, leaving them shuddering against a crisp gust of air.

“Should be dry now," he says, motioning to a nearby tree where your clothes are draped over a branch. He must've put them there because you have no memory of doing so.

"Oh. Thanks."

Begrudgingly, you change behind the cabin, your muscles and joints groaning. Despite the dip in the river, your clothes still bare faint stains of blood and whatever fluid came out of that dead Grey. They don't offer the same physical comfort that his heavy loaner did. You can't say you don't miss it when you hand it back. 

"You should sleep, too."

He shucks it on, eyes glued to the distance. "I'm fine."

“You think there’s more of them, don’t you?”

He takes a moment before answering. "I took out five, then there's the two that attacked you. Big group. They would've left one or two behind to watch their camp."

It's true, and the thought grazes your teeth against the inside of your cheek. Either they will realize something happened to their companions and go looking for you, or they will be wary of the threat and keep to their turf. You aren't too concerned with Ghost here, but if they’re stocked on military-grade gear like he said, then it's better not to let your guard down.

"Look, you won't be able to keep her safe if you pass out from exhaustion. I can stay out here."

Finally, he exhales deeply, his chest moving beneath all the gear. "Wake me up if you see anything."

"I will."

You watch him go before a sudden realization hits you.

"Ghost, wait—"

He halts, eyebrows raising in question. 

"My bow... I think I lost it. In the river."

There is a long pause of thought before he reaches for the handgun at his waist, offering it to you with a firm look.

"Just for now, in case there's anything."

Keeping watch is far from enjoyable. Every little movement makes your fingers curl tighter around the gun. You keep your gaze up and alert while making a small fire to purify some water from the river, drinking until your stomach feels tight. Then, you settle on a tree stump by the cabin and take out the single dried squirrel you brought. But when you bite in, a strange taste floods your mouth. Blood. Cartilage. Human flesh. You spit it out, your stomach expelling more watery vomit. 

"For later, then," you whisper, wiping your mouth.

The plan was never to stay here for more than a night, but with Blue's recovery, you'll have to find more food. It could be three or four days before she’s ready for the long trip back. You ponder how you can make do without the bow, and figure you can use those animal traps. There's also a bush by the cabin that, if Paul's teachings did you any good, appears to be unripened salmonberries.

Hours drone by, each one more tedious than the last. The scent of moisture in the air begins to grow stronger. It's not until dark, swollen clouds roll in from the north that Ghost reemerges from the cabin.

"I didn't see anything, but I think it's going to storm." You gesture to the sky.

The abrupt arrival of sharp lightning and pillaging rain brings both of you back within the shelter. The storm clouds quickly swallow all the light, which leads Ghost to start another fire with the dry wood he has left. You find a few candles dressed in cobwebs and ignite them with your newfound lighter. It's not long before Blue wakes up, likely unable to sleep with all the sounds and the steady leak of water that begins to drip from the ramshackle ceiling. 

Ghost may have brought a lot with him, but he doesn't have anything to patch up a leak, which leads to a small puddle taking up space and pushing the three of you uncomfortably closer. Of course, Blue is the only one lying down. You tuck your knees under your chin while Ghost bends his long legs into a crossed position. He's wide enough that his knee and shoulder brush against you no matter how much you try to inch into the corner.

Though, you secretly can't complain. There seems to be an everlasting heat that radiates off him, even here, as the fire struggles to sustain itself and the rain thrums incessantly. 

He shifts around to fish something out of his backpack. Crackers. 

"Here, kid."

"I'm not hungry."

"You need to eat something."

He has to practically force little bites into her mouth, cradling her head up with his gloved hand. The sight makes your stomach howl, but you refrain from eating the squirrel in case you throw up again. You don't suspect either of them would appreciate that.

Blue goes back to staring dully at the wall after she eats, and Ghost continually peeks out a crack in the boarded-up window. The whole thing is quite miserable, even though, at the very least, you are all alive. The look in her eyes reminds you of how Joseph would get sometimes, and you hate it. 

At some point, you take out the book you found.

"Hey, Blue. I... I found this. Want me to read it to you?"

Her gaze shifts to you. "Oh. What's it called?"

"Um." You glance at the cover, cringing when a male model and corny title stare back at you. That's right. It was the only book in the store for a reason. "Well, maybe not. It doesn't look very good."

"You could tell me a story," she suggests in a murmur. "Ghost isn't any good at that."

You glance at him. He must be listening, but he pretends not to. Rather, he fiddles with the magazine of his rifle: taking it out, counting what's there, putting it back in. 

Under the roar of thunder, you murmur a story to her. That one your mother used to tell you. Then, you move on to memories. The happiest ones you can recall, mostly about your sister. You tell her about the time your parents surprised the two of you with a hampster, and how you argued over who got to name it, only deciding after a fierce battle of rock-paper-scissors in which you won. 

"So what did you name him?"

"Frank."

"Frank," she repeats. A weak smile. "That's a terrible name."

The storm ebbs on for another day. You and Ghost set up a silent routine of taking turns to sleep, though with how he leans against the wall and clutches the rifle with his eyes closed, you wonder if he is even really sleeping. Blue is only awake to eat, drink, and listen to a few stories. You steal peeks at her wound when he redresses it, pleased to see no evidence of infection. 

You finally bring yourself to eat, taking small bites and forcing it down. The pain in your limbs starts to fade, and the cuts on your face and hands are already scabbed over. When the rain clears, you set up the traps. Paul used to have ones like these. It's not long before you've got yourself another squirrel to eat. The salmonberries are terribly sour, but you wolf down a bush's worth.

Two days. You've been here for two days, and no one has snuck in an attack. There hasn't been a trace of rot in the air. You should feel relieved, but something in the way Ghost behaves makes you wary. He keeps looking through his backpack, fiddling with his guns. Perhaps over the past month, you've grown so used to his mood only shifting between hostile and indifferent, that it's easier to pick up on the signs of his unease. 

Before you can decide to question him what's wrong, he confronts you.

"Twix. We need to talk."

He's caught you with berry remnants around your mouth as you sit on the tree stump and finish your meal. You swipe your tongue across your lips, staring up at him. It's sort of awkward, craning your neck as he towers above you.

"What is it?"

"I need to leave."

You inhale sharply. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," he takes the rifle off his shoulder, "I've got five bullets for this one. And," he juts a finger to the handgun, "One magazine for this one."

Understanding sinks to the pit of your stomach. He's running low. Of course. Between the people and all the Greys, he must have used up a lot.

"That's not enough to get us back?" You tuck some hair behind your ear.

"If we run into all those fucks like before, then no. I don't feel comfortable with this much."

"So what are you going to do? Go loot their bodies?"

"I already did that," he almost growls, frustrated. "This is what I've got including what they had on 'em."

"Their camp, then. You want to go find it?" When he nods, you glance behind you at the cabin where Blue rests inside. "No. No— I don't like this idea. I have nothing to protect her with while you're gone."

"I'll leave you a gun."

"I'm not good with a gun," you protest, curling your fingers into your palm as you frown. "She can barely walk, and I can't carry her if shit happens."

"Well, I can't get us all back safely if I don't have fucking ammo. You think I want to leave her? I have no choice here."

Everything he's saying makes sense, and yet, you hate it. You just barely protected her the first time he left you alone, the memory of desperately biting that guy's nose off being evidence of that. Admittedly, you don't know what to do once someone gets close. If something were to happen while he was gone, you’re not confident that you could keep her alive again. But he needs this. The trip will be a waste if he doesn’t get this ammo— the risk to all your lives would’ve been for nothing.

"What if—" Your eyes slide shut as you swallow thickly. "Fuck— what if I go get it?"

Immediately, he scoffs. "That makes no sense."

"Your priority is keeping her safe. You stay here and do that."

"You have no bow," he reminds you, roughly shaking his head. "Don't be stupid."

"You said there's likely only one or two people guarding it. I don't have to fight them. I just have to find their place and steal from them, right?"

"Why?" He demands, eyes narrowing from their typical half-lidded state. They sweep over your face, from your forehead to your chin. "Why would you do this? Risk your life?"

It's a fair question, and you realize how ridiculous you must sound even suggesting this idea. Looking at the ground, the first answer comes to you quickly. You value Blue's life more than your own at this point. Like you told Ghost, you don't know why you even bother fighting. She's a kid. A piece of light in this world. He can protect her better than you can, and he needs the ammo to do so. But there are a few other reasons you find yourself willing to do this for him, and those are the ones you decide to share with him. 

"Because like you said, you need the ammo to get us all back safely. Plus," you look back at up him, "They probably have some things I need, too. Like more medicine." It's something you've pondered quite a few times since realizing how healthy and populated their group was. You lucked out in the village. There will never be another opportunity for medicine like this. "But... if I can get your ammo, then you owe me."

A deep breath expands his chest, then he huffs it out. "What would you want?"

You mull it over. "The couch," is the first thing that comes to mind. You imagine having to sleep in a flooded shed, which will undoubtedly happen with this northern weather, and the thought alone makes you miserable. "When we get back, I want to sleep inside on the couch from now on. And a new bow. You can make me one."

He stares at you for a few seconds before shaking his head to himself, grumbling something under his breath. He slings the rifle back over his shoulder, and you think he's ready to rightfully tell you how stupid you are again, but instead, he grits out, "Anything else?"

"A few shirts and your jacket," you breathe out, eyeing the fabric that fits his broad shoulders much better than it did yours. "And..." a flush threatens the base of your neck, "I also want you to teach me how to better defend myself. Once someone grabs me, I panic."

There's something detectable that passes through his eyes, maybe the memory of how helpless he rendered you not so long ago. He looks at the cabin, shaking his head again, before returning his stare down at you. 

"I'm going to tell you exactly how to get this done. You're of no use to me dead, Twix. Get me a backpack full of ammo, and we'll have a deal."

[yanderestarangel]

౨ৎ ADLER RUSSELL X MALE READER || "RETURN"

♡ ┆TW : few spoilers, v!sex, ftm reader, fingering, overstimulation, orgasm denial, angst, make-up sex.

♡⁠┊It had been so long since you last heard of Adler that you thought the man had been a figment of your imagination, and that every touch, kiss, hug, and intimate moment had been a dream too good to be true—you were just a deluded man. But the ring on your finger, shining like a star, said otherwise.

♡⁠┊Since the mission with Bell and Adler's unhealthy obsession with finding Perseus, your husband had left you alone, with only a missing person’s report hanging over you. You tried to live your life normally, even though your mind and heart were trapped in an empty space of loneliness and isolation—after all, he hadn’t been declared dead, just missing. Everything only got worse when they unexpectedly declared your companion an enemy of the state and put a bounty on his whereabouts.

♡⁠┊The CIA looked for you, and as always, you didn’t know where Russell was... Even though you were his husband, he had simply disappeared like tears in the rain—if the former agent was alive, he was well-hidden from everyone and everything, even from you. Your hopes had dwindled, and you were already giving up on the possibility of him seeking you out again—until that night.

♡⁠┊The knocks on the window startled you from your restful state—the sound of the rain had drowned out any previous noise. You cleared your field of vision and saw the unmistakable shadow of Adler standing outside, a practically invisible smile on his lips and scarred face. He was still just as you remembered. A mixture of frustration, joy, anger, and everything else filled your chest as you immediately ran to open the door for him.

♡⁠┊Adler walked in silently, his heavy boots making noise on the floor as he dried the drops of water still clinging to his clothes—he still smelled like cigarettes, gunpowder, and strong, citrusy masculine cologne; it seemed like he had stopped in time.

♡⁠┊"I can explain everything..." Adler began with a soft sigh. But you didn’t let him finish; you pulled him into a kiss, filled with hunger and pain. As much as you were overwhelmed with mixed emotions, you had missed your husband's touch. You needed to feel Russell as much as possible and be sure that he wasn’t just an illusion in your mind.

♡⁠┊The kiss was messy with moans from both of you and desperate touches from both of you to feel each other again - his tongue danced with yours slowly while his agile fingers went against your clothes and took them off without any ceremony - leaving you naked for his gaze.

♡⁠┊You felt that old feeling of desire again when you knew that behind the visor of his glasses, his blue eyes burned with lust when he saw you surrendered to him again. With a firm hand, he grabbed your neck as he always did, his thick fingers digging into your skin while his free hand found its way to your pussy - playing with the moisture that was already accumulating there. "Holy shit-... Do you still want me so much? Did you miss your old husband here, my lad?" He moaned with a slight saccharism in his voice as he stuck two fingers inside your cunt, making you moan and feel him curl his digits inside you – obviously he still remembered how to satisfy you and wanted to put it all into practice again.

♡┊The taller blond saw you a mess with tears of joy, anger and pleasure – he felt guilty for simply leaving, but it was a decision made to protect you only. The two of you kissed as if the world of both of you depended on it. Your fingers touched every part of his still covered body, feeling every muscle and soft part of his flesh. He whispered sweet nothings on your lips again like he used to do before – each word accompanied by faster fingers in your wet hole, dirtying his fingers and his forearm.

♡┊It didn't take long for you to be wet enough to ride his cock again like you always did. You didn't need to talk to understand how much you needed this, you needed each other. Adler pulled his pants down to his knees and his thick, veiny shaft throbbed from its confinement. His large hands rested on the soft flesh of your waist as you lowered yourself unceremoniously onto his throbbing member – it was vulgar, raw and full of need, his eyes widened enough for you to see them shining behind his glasses as he watched your body bounce on his groin as if it was the only thing you knew.

♡┊His scarred lips found their way to your neck and a few hickeys were left there – at the same time you flexed your hips and thighs on the older man and felt every inch of your husband filling you to the point of having a bulge in your belly. You decided to speed up your movements and heard the older man moan hoarsely as he watched your pussy swallow him without complaint, you still fit perfectly into him, as it always did. "Fuck, pretty boy... You're going to kill me like this, holy shit." Adler let out a loud groan as you sat down on his cock harder, his eyes squeezed shut as he tried to focus on not cumming, the feeling of your pussy enveloping his cock was heavenly, the way you moved on top of him, the way you were always so wet for him, the way you looked when you were riding him, it was all too much for him to handle.

♡⁠┊"Fuck... You're so tight... So wet..." He panted, his hands gripping your hips tighter and pulling you down onto his cock with more force, his hips bucking up to meet your downward thrusts – he knew you weren't going to let him cum now, and he was happy to obey, after all he knew it was the lightest punishment he would receive after being away from you for so long.

♡⁠┊When he told you he was going to cum, you quickly pulled his cock out of your wetness, making him groan in frustration and curl his toes inside his boots, his eyes widening in surprise, his body tensing up in anticipation of his release only to have it snatched away from him. He could feel his cock throbbing, aching for release, but he held on, you were in control at that moment.

♡⁠┊He could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears, the blood rushing through his veins. And it all only got worse when you made him fuck you in every corner of the house in different positions – and every time he was going to cum, you made him hold on tighter and tighter, in that situation it was like he was your personal dildo and he felt even harder at the prospect of just making you cum. He had become a slave to your desires, and he would do anything to make you happy, even if it meant breaking the rules, even if it meant breaking himself.

♡⁠┊Adler really wanted to last longer but he couldn't, the way your pussy was wetting his cock and balls, the way you were grinding against his groin, the way your ass moved with each thrust. He couldn't obey your command and filled your womb with his hot cum. As you and he recovered, his hands found your face and kissed you on the forehead. "Let's talk now, okay? I really have a lot to talk about." Russell spoke softly, knowing you would like to know what happened... and he had a lot to say.

𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒆𝒅 ©𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 2024. 𝒅𝒐 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆

[enemiestolovershoe]

JJ fox where you and JJ are awkwardly in love and both of you are in complete denial and are always saying things like “we’re just best friends” etc. until one day JJ’s in a bad motorcycle/dirt bike accident and you tell him you were scared of losing him, and he says something snarky like “I would never leave you on purpose” etc. fluffy fluff ending maybe, with the others at the end or something

Crash Into Love

Jj Maybank x bsf!reader

Words: 1k

Warnings: use of y/n, hospital, not proofread

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

You and JJ had always been a pair. Growing up together on the Cut, your friendship was legendary. Everyone assumed you two were dating from the time you were kids, and even though you always laughed it off with, “Nah, we’re just best friends,” part of you wondered if they were right.

Lately, those feelings had been growing, making it harder to keep your true thoughts hidden. JJ’s cheeky grins, the way his hand lingered on your shoulder, or how his eyes softened when he looked at you—it was like he was hiding something, too. But neither of you ever brought it up. Why ruin what you had, right?

That all changed when John B’s number lit up your phone one afternoon. “JJ’s been in an accident,” he said, his voice panicked. “He was riding his dirt bike… I don’t know all the details, but he’s on his way to the hospital now.”

Your heart dropped.

Without a second thought, you grabbed your keys and bolted. The drive to the hospital was a blur; your hands were shaking, your mind running wild with fear. When you finally arrived, the others were already in the waiting room, looking grim.

“He’s stable,” Pope said quietly, placing a hand on your shoulder. “He’s banged up, but the doctors think he’ll be okay.”

That should’ve been reassuring, but it didn’t stop the ache in your chest.

After what felt like hours, they let you see him. When you entered the dim room, JJ was lying there, his blond hair messy against the pillow, bruises scattered across his face, and his left arm in a sling. For a moment, he looked so still it terrified you. Then he opened his eyes, and that familiar JJ grin crept onto his face.

“Oh, you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he joked, wincing as he tried to sit up. “Missed me that much, huh?”

You huffed, blinking back tears. “Shut up, JJ. Do you know how scared I was?”

He shrugged, though he was clearly in pain. “Didn’t mean to freak you out. You know me, babe—always gotta keep things exciting.”

The word “babe” was so casual, so JJ, but this time, it sent a jolt through you. You moved to his bedside, trying to keep your voice steady. “Exciting? I thought you were dead! John B called, and I… I didn’t know if I was ever gonna see you again.”

JJ’s smirk softened, and he reached out, his fingers brushing yours. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “I would never leave you on purpose. You know that.”

You swallowed hard, his hand warm against yours. “Well, you better not, because… because I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

JJ’s blue eyes held yours, and in that moment, it was like the world around you disappeared. There was no hospital, no bruises, just you and JJ in this unspoken space you’d been avoiding for years.

“Maybe you wouldn’t have to,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your breath caught, and without thinking, you leaned in. JJ’s hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer until your lips met his in a soft, tender kiss. His fingers brushed your cheek, and you could feel the smile against your lips, a smile that was all JJ.

It was like years of denial melted away in that kiss. All the playful “just friends” comments, the way you’d brushed off everyone’s suspicions—it all felt so silly now.

When you finally pulled away, JJ looked at you with that mischievous glint in his eye. “So… does this mean I can call you my girlfriend now?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Maybe. If you behave.”

Before JJ could respond with some snarky comeback, the door creaked open, and you both froze.

There, in the doorway, were the Pogues—John B, Pope, Kiara, Sarah, and Cleo—all staring with wide eyes and identical, knowing smirks.

“Dude,” Pope started, grinning ear-to-ear, “finally! We thought you two would never get over yourselves!”

Kiara let out a laugh. “I mean, we’ve been waiting for this for years.”

JJ rolled his eyes, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks. “Oh, shut up, all of you. Let a man recover in peace, will ya?”

John B chuckled, stepping further into the room. “Recovery? From the way we just saw you two, you’re healing real quick.”

You swatted at JJ’s arm. “See? You did this! Always making things dramatic,” you teased.

JJ just gave you that roguish grin, unbothered by the teasing. “Hey, if it finally got you to admit you’re in love with me, then I’d say it was worth the broken bones.”

The others groaned in unison, though their faces were beaming.

Cleo shook her head, grinning. “So, what now? Are you gonna stop pretending you’re ‘just friends’ every time we’re all hanging out?”

You shot JJ a look, and he just shrugged. “Yeah, yeah, I guess the charade’s over. I mean, if it’s gonna make everyone so happy.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as Kiara walked over and hugged you, whispering, “About time, babe. You guys were exhausting to watch.”

Sarah and Pope gave you approving nods, and John B leaned against the wall, crossing his arms with a grin. “So, are we allowed to call you two the couple now?”

JJ smirked, draping his good arm around your shoulders. “Why not? Go on, give us a title, make it official.”

The room erupted in laughter, and in that moment, surrounded by the people you loved most, everything felt right. You and JJ exchanged a look, knowing you’d both finally admitted what had been there all along. And even though JJ was still sore and bruised, you couldn’t have been happier.

The Pogues stayed for a while, catching JJ up on all the gossip he’d missed, and despite the teasing, everyone seemed thrilled. For once, the two of you didn’t have to hide or deny anything. You’d found a way to be together—just like everyone had known you would, all along.

[sunlightmurdock]

Ashes, Ashes | Two | Bradley Bradshaw

previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

Synopsis: In which Maverick didn’t make it home after the Uranium mission. He’s missing, presumed dead. There are things that have to be done — someone has to take care of the house, the bills.

So, Maverick’s daughter is back in Fightertown for the first time since she was in elementary school. There’s a gaping hole in both of their lives now, and somehow, the world’s supposed to just keep on turning without him.

warnings: bradley bradshaw x minimally descriptive oc avery mitchell. age gap (23/33), smut, angst, hurt / comfort, mentions of character death, mourning, military inaccuracies. This entire fic and my blog is an 18+ space, minors do not interact. Do not repost.

…

Bradley rents a bungalow about twenty minutes from base, towards the south of the San Diego bay. He explains, on the drive there, while she is hugging an overnight bag of her things, that he’s been renting it from this sweet old lady for the past four years — but he’s only been living in it for about three quarters of that time, with deployments.

He talks a lot. Shooting halfway amused looks across at him every now and again as he talks over his music, explaining his entire rental history, Avery just lets him go on and on.

Maybe he’s worried that the silence will give her room to start tearing up again, but she knows that won’t happen — it was already a rare occurrence, just the once. 

She lets him talk. He doesn’t seem to mind how much attention she’s paying either. Anything other than silence is fine, even if he’s the only one filling it.

The respite comes when he parks in the driveway, hops out, and proudly displays the home to her. It’s white all over and covered in plants, all up the driveway and over the porch. There’s a surfboard sitting on the porch, waxed up and looking ready to go.

Inside is masculine and simple, and spotless. It looks more lived in than Maverick’s place, but in an exceptionally organised way. 

Just past the front door, he has an organised entryway with a closet and one of those shoe racks that looks like an end table. 

Beyond that, his living area is all open plan. His kitchen is to the left right as you walk in, and the living room is the clear focus. He’s got a big grey sectional pointed at a big tv with a stack of video games beside it.

He doesn’t ask her to take her shoes off by the door, but she copies politely when he kicks his off. 

That leaves her, blue and white tube socks, toeing against the chewed up corner of the area rug while he busies himself with fixing the few things he deems to be out of place. 

Itching to keep moving, she prods at the fabric, examining the teeth marks, wondering where the dog must be.

“Oh— that was my ex-girlfriend’s dog. I’ve been meaning to buy a new rug.” He explains, furrowing his brows at the spot as he tosses a throw pillow down onto his soft looking grey couch. “Um — so, I do have a guest room, but it’s kind of a gym right now. You can just make yourself at home, and I’ll go get everything out of your way.”

“I can take the couch.”

“No, no, you deserve some privacy at least. I’ll just be a sec — I have sodas and beers in the fridge, glasses are in the cabinet to the right. Help yourself.” He’s a good host, and a better one than she had been yesterday, considering that Maverick’s place is now technically her own.

As he heads for the long, stretching hallway, she shoots a look back down at the mauled rug. With how spotless the rest of this place is, he must have really liked that girl to let her bring her dog here, and to let it chew up his stuff.

She wonders, aimlessly, if he was mad about it. If they argued. If they broke up long ago.

Avery hasn’t had too many relationships of her own. Some mediocre sex and a couple of couch-based movie dates here and there, nothing to write home about. 

She sits cautiously, sinking into the pillowy cushion of the couch, taking the time finally to really look around her. The space is bright, with big windows all around and a view of the bay. There’s a sun catcher dancing from the curtain rod, casting rainbows across his wooden floors.

Maybe his ex had bought that, too.

The bungalow is small, but it fits all of his belongings with an abundance of space left. Avery thinks back to her father’s place, always cluttered and spilling over with junk, treasure from his years of travels.

Maybe Bradley is a little bit less sentimental about keeping things.

He rattles around in the room at the end of the hall for a while, huffing occasionally. While waiting on the couch, she considers getting up and offering to help a few times, but ultimately convinces herself against it.

“Alright! Fresh sheets and some space to move, there’s still a bunch of stuff in there but I tried to get it out of your way.” He comes strolling back down the hallway and drops down onto the couch at her side, letting out a heavy sigh.

She screws her mouth up a little, looking across at him while he rests his eyes, long, dark eyelashes brushing his warm cheeks. His long legs, covered by worn denim, stretch out far enough that he has to bend them around his coffee table.

When one hand comes up to card through his mussed curls, she catches sight of the tattoo inked across the expanse of his bicep. LXXXVI. ‘86. She starts to think on it, letting him enjoy his moment of peace, when he shifts and startles her enough to drag her eyes away from his flexing arm.

“Thanks, for everything,” Avery manages to still sound a little cautious in her tone, even when she’s rushing to speak. “Staying last night, driving me around today, letting me stay with you. I really appreciate it.”

He smiles without opening his eyes, reaching out and letting his hand pat skim across the seam of her jeans, patting at her knee platonically.

“Any time.” He breezes, cool. 

The first night is uneventful. Avery sleeps restlessly on the futon in Bradley’s spare bedroom, turned home gym. 

She pretends that she doesn’t see the numbers on the sides of the weights, and pretends also that she doesn’t give a little bit of her imagination to the way that tattoo must move when he lifts them.

When she wakes up, Bradley is gone and there is a note on the kitchen counter explaining that he went for a run. He was gone for two hours, trying to run far enough that the sick, hot, thudding feeling in his chest would stop.

Back at the house, Natasha stops by and spends the afternoon. She lets herself into the place with her key, which sits on her own keychain like she’s had it for a while. Watching a sitcom from the armchair while they sit beside each other on the couch, Avery notices that the two of them are very close.

She wonders if Natasha happens to have a dog.

Sleep doesn’t come any easier for either one of them the second night. When he finally catches sight of the red, flashing declaration on his alarm clock that it is now 2:01am, Bradley gives up.

He tries to be quiet as he’s getting up, careful not to wake Avery. They’re in much closer quarters in his place than they had been back at Maverick’s house, her door is right opposite his across the narrow hallway.

He pads down the hallway, rubbing at his eyes, tossing up whether he’s going to try to drink something warm and go back to bed, or if he’s just going to stay up. He can’t keep not sleeping.

He almost heads straight for the kitchen, freezing in his tracks as he finally takes note of the blue light coming from his living room, and the sound of women’s voices. It takes him a second, even though he’d been being so considerate on her behalf, to remember that he has a guest over.

“Ave?” He mumbles. 

The TV immediately falls silent. She winces from her spot on the couch, craning her neck to try to see him at the edge of the hallway.

“Just me. I’m sorry! Did I wake you?” She sounds worried. He’s still half asleep. 

He shakes his head as he steps out from the shadows and heads for his kitchen. “No, I just wasn’t expecting you to be up. I couldn’t sleep.”

He passes by pretty quickly, concealed behind the kitchen island in just a few steps. Still, she saw him. Illuminated only by the light of the television, wearing a tight pair of black boxer briefs and dog tags around a silver chain. Long, muscled legs and tapered hips. 

Sure, he was good looking before, and clearly fit — but she wasn’t expecting what had been under those slightly loose t-shirts.

Her mouth is dry as she mumbles out a soft, “Me either.”

“D’you want a tea?” He stands with her back to her now, reaching around in the darkness of his kitchen. She stares, unblinking, at his back.

“You drink tea?”

“Sometimes,” He cranes his neck to look at her over his shoulder. “That’s not weird.”

Her lips almost quirk, and she gives him a confirming shake of her head. “I didn’t say it was. Do you have green tea?”

He scoffs without looking. “Of course I have green tea.”

This whole lack of sleep thing isn’t new to him. It comes with the grief, but it’s there even when he feels like he isn’t grieving anymore. Since he was a kid, Bradley has had thoughts that keep him up at night, thoughts bad enough to stir him from peaceful, pleasant dreams.

He’s tried every tea in the catalog.

He carries the two mugs across the living room without once noticing the way he’s been stared at. He sets hers down on a cute little wicker coaster on his coffee table, walking past and dropping down onto the corner of the sectional.

His legs stretch out and he shifts and twists until he finds himself comfortable. “What’s this?”

She sets her gaze steadily on the television, her hands in her lap, wondering if he’s this brash with all of his house guests. With a swallow, she shrugs her shoulders. “Oh, it’s just this TV show about a columnist in New York in the nine—“

“Are you explaining Sex and the City to me?” Bradley sounds bewildered, his face stark as he stares at her across the couch. Avery’s lips tug at a smile, and she almost forget the nerves she’d been feeling.

Until, the light from the television catches on the silver of his dogtags. Her gaze drops, like a flicker, to his bare, toned chest — and she swiftly looks back to the television.

“You’ve seen it?” She asks softly.

He’s beyond good looking. He’d always been okay looking, he’d had a nice smile in all of those pictures she had seen. But now, the roundness of his cheeks is gone and he has grown into his nose, his lips are a shade of pink that would be a bestseller in cosmetics. 

Avery curses herself; she had been pretty successfully pretending not to notice that he had gotten good looking. Then, he comes strolling down that hallway and making her tea from his apparently extensive collection, having the nerve to sprawl across his own couch looking like that. 

Across from a girl who hasn’t seen any action in the better part of a year too. 

She almost scowls. 

“Every episode,” He answers gleefully. At first, she thinks of Natasha or that mysterious girlfriend with the badly behaved dog. Then, he adds, “This was my mom’s favourite TV show, ever.”

And suddenly, she feels a little guilty for acting like those muscles make him some kind of ladies’ man. Just because the rest of them have been, she guesses. 

Bradley seems like a nice guy. He slept in a bed clearly meant for a child all night last night, and he let her take the first shower this morning, he chased her across the parking lot and offered to fix all of her problems in one fell swoop. 

Maybe that’s because of some kind of debt he thinks he owes to Pete, and maybe it’s just because that’s the kind of man he is.

She glances across, watching him chuckle at a classic Samantha one-liner and take a sip of a raspberry herbal tea. Wrinkling her nose, she settles back down into the spot she had been relaxing in, and lets herself zone out again. 

They watch a couple of episodes. Unlike earlier, Bradley doesn’t feel the need to talk. He likes the quiet, mixed with their frequent chuckles. It’s an okay thing, to not have to fill that silent void. 

Avery is the first to excuse herself to go back to bed, and she hasn’t once mentioned his little Calvin Kleins or the way they make his thighs look. 

As she walks away, Bradley catches himself. He hadn’t much thought about what she might wear to bed, or what she’d been wearing when he first sat down with her. Her hips wiggle in her stride, her fitted pyjama shorts hugging her ass as she heads for the guest room. 

The material of her loose t-shirt is tucked in at the back. Those cotton shorts hug her hips and show off just the tiniest glimpse of her round ass, from where they have ridden up a little.

He looks away before she’s even out of view, but it doesn’t change what he had been thinking. She’s Pete’s kid, for gods’ sakes. Not much of a kid anymore, but still, it wouldn’t be right.

Man, Maverick would hate it, too. 

Bradley wishes, silently, that he was here to scold him. Pete would square his shoulders and get that rare and serious look on his face, warning Bradley to keep his hands to himself. And Bradley would smile and taunt him, saying, “Don’t worry, Mav, I’ll be the perfect gentleman.”

With her dad gone, it just makes it worse.

These next few weeks are going to be hard, and the least he could do is think with his head to keep things simple between the two of them. He heads back to bed late enough for it to almost not be worth it. 

He wakes to the sound of chaos over the comms, that same last conversation, those snowy peaks behind his eyelids. 

Mouth dry, heart thudding, his eyes are still shut when he stumbles out into the hall and twists the bathroom door handle. It jams, and he remembers. The sounds of water coming from behind the door stops abruptly.

Peeking her head around the shower curtain, already wincing, Avery calls back out to him. “Sorry! I’ll just be a second!”

“No — sorry, take as long as you want.” He calls back, shaking his head and heading for the kitchen. Restless and anxious, he splashes cold water across his face and thinks about Pete.

He saw Mav do this insurmountable times. He remembers all of the mornings that Mav would wake up gasping, shaking, and he would head straight for the bathroom, bolting the door. He’d come back out okay again. He wonders if Mav still did it, even all these years later.

If he still heard Goose’s voice through the comms, calling him out of his dreams. 

The thought makes him shudder. The bathroom door unlocking makes him flinch, looking up sharply. 

Avery steps out of the bathroom, her hair still dry and tied back, droplets of water still beading along the skin and flowing under the plush blue towel she had taken from the linen closet. He had told her to help herself, but he’s staring at her now and she’s second guessing herself.

He stands at his kitchen sink, his hands braced against the countertop, his knuckles white. She barely even notices his little Calvin Kleins. Her brows knit together as she takes a step toward him, barely visible around the corner.

“Hey… are you okay?” Her face creases with concern, lingering in the hallway so that he can see her just enough.

He remembers to let go of the countertop.

“Yeah,” He breathes out, unconvincingly, reaching up and shaking a hand through his tangled curls. He takes a second, trying to gather his thoughts enough to keep the conversation moving. “Were you still thinking you’re gonna need a job while you’re here?”

She blinks, her scrunched up face relaxing as she takes another step closer, cocking her head at him.

“Um, yeah. I think so.”

He nods. “Get dressed. We’ll go see my friend in a bit, can see if it’s something you might be interested in. Maybe, then we’ll take your car to a mechanic this afternoon.” 

Out of the house, he feels like he can breathe again. It’s just sleeping, that’s all. When he’s really awake, he can control it all a little better, it doesn’t get to him as much.

He drives the same way he had yesterday. Three fingers around the bottom of the wheel, seventies music playing. Today, the windows are down. Avery makes a pretty good passenger — she doesn’t ask him to change his music and she doesn’t put her head in the way when he’s trying to check his mirrors.

Mainly because she isn’t once watching the road, but that’s okay. 

She looks around the city like she’s seeing it for the first time. Mav lived her for longer than she’s been alive — and the entire place seems foreign to her.

Bradley knows both of his parents’ hometowns like the back of his hand, and he still hasn’t ever lived in either one of them. 

“Did your dad ever tell you about Penny?” He asks so calmly, drumming his fingers along the wheel, Ray-Ban caravans sitting across the bridge of his nose.

The look that Avery shoots him gives him more than enough of an answer. She sets her phone down in her lap and studies him, frowning slightly.

“Who’s Penny?”

Shit. Bradley shakes his head and his voice pitches up a fraction. “Oh, she and Mav were just good friends for a long time.”

A product of one of Maverick’s ‘good friendships’ herself, Avery doesn’t need Bradley to explain to her what that means. It makes her a little less excited to get to wherever he’s taking her. 

With one quick glance across, he catches the little frown settling across her lips.

“She owns that bar on Breakers Beach. We drove past it yesterday when we saw Admiral Simpson?” Bradley prompts her, glancing across at the passenger seat. She nods along. “I texted her yesterday and she really wanted to meet you, said you can have some shifts there if you want them.”

Avery wrinkles her nose, trying not to frown across at him when he’s doing his best to just be helpful.

“What? — What’s that look?” He prompts, looking across at her with an amused smile toying at his lips. 

“She’s like a long time ago ex, right? She wasn’t dating Pete recently?” 

Bradley thinks on his answer for a moment. He isn’t surprised that she figured out there was something between Mav and Penny, he would have figured it out too.

But, he had heard of Mav’s experience with Penny Benjamin a long time before he had actually gotten to meet Penny Benjamin. Really, he’s surprised to find that Avery has never heard of her, she and Mav were really on and off for quite a while.

He guesses that Mav kept that kind of thing from her.

Which means that he would want Bradley to keep the fact that he had seen Mav and Penny leave the bar together three times in the weeks leading the mission to himself too.

“Yeah. Like a long time ago.” He confirms.

“Alright, okay — yeah, this’ll be good,” Avery sounds more like she’s giving herself a pep talk than like she’s replying to him. He shoots her a smile and a nod anyway. “Thanks, again, by the way. You’re cool for setting this all up.”

Cool. Not the kind of compliment he’s usually searching for from a pretty girl, but he’ll take it.

Reaching across the centre console, he gives her knee a quick squeeze. “Not so bad yourself, Mitchell.”

Briefly, his palm lingers there. It’s just because he’s focusing on turning into the parking lot, but it’s still his large palm hugging the curve of her knee for a minute longer than it should have.

Completely over the thick protection of her jeans, but she stares at the touch anyways. Then, she dares to look back up at him. Totally relaxed as he pulls into a spot up front like it’s his own personal one. 

One more squeeze, and he takes his hand back and swings open the door. The parking lot is surprisingly busy for the middle of the week at noon.

 Avery follows him out of the vehicle, gingerly matching his pace as he heads inside. It’s once he’s spotted that she falters. 

“Rooster!” Someone even taller than he is comes marching up right away and throws his arms around Bradley. Bradley hugs him loosely, greeting him with an aloof but firm pat of the back.

“Payback.” He greets quietly.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you. How are you holding up?” His warm eyes bore into Bradley, his head bowed slightly and his voice sincere. He hasn’t spotted her yet.

“I’m alright,” Bradley sounds convincing enough, but this Payback guy hadn’t seen how rattled Bradley had looked this morning. “This is Avery.” 

Finally, Payback’s gaze flickers to the girl standing behind Rooster. Halfway tucked behind his shoulder, staring at him through her lashes, looking totally lost and sheepish.

“Mav’s kid?”

In the short time Bradley has known her, he knows that’s not the kind of response she would have wanted to get.

Swinging his arm out and throwing the heavy limb around her shoulders, Payback watches Rooster drag the stunned girl out from behind him and present her at his side. “It’d pay you to learn your new bartender’s name, Fitch.”

He’s looking Avery right in the eye, and he already can see that Bradley’s going to have to be reminded that not everyone likes the heavy handed approach to affection he can have.

Still, he smiles at her like he means it and nods his head respectfully.

“Already got it, it’ll be good to have you around, Avery.” 

A small smile works its way across her lips, grateful if not anything else.

“Nice to meet you.” She answers him quietly, stiff against Bradley’s side. He pats her back and urges her forwards.

“Here, this is Penny. Penny, meet your new bartender.”

Penny Benjamin is tall and striking, standing behind the bar with her eyes already on the new bartender. There’s a recognition and affection in the blue of her gaze that tells Avery she was lied to just a moment ago.

That’s a woman who cared deeply for Pete Mitchell.

It puts a bad taste in her mouth, a pit in her stomach, a sudden coldness about the possibility of this job. Even if just for a short time, for however long she’s here, she’s just going to be an extension of the man she had always felt so far from.

Penny cocks her head to the side, just a bit. Sure, she can see semblances of Pete in the girl across from her, but it’s the rigid, flighty look in her eyes that catches Penny’s attention. 

Across from her is someone with something to prove, and a character they’ve been playing for a long time now. That’s what feels most familiar.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Avery says stiffly, trying to sound like she means it. 

Penny nods, smiling. She glances towards Bradley, then back to the girl still tucked under his arm.

“You too. Let’s talk.” 

As Jimmy takes over the bar duties, Bradley’s left with the prospect of facing his friends when Penny and Avery disappear toward the back deck.

He scratches at the back of his neck, shooting one last look at the two of them over his shoulder, and wondering what he’s supposed to say to all of those guys. 

One by one, he could manage… but all in a group like that? — He hasn’t seen most of them since it happened. 

It’s Natasha that he can trust to catch his eye first, giving him that kind of look cautious parents give their kids when coaching them on a bike. She worries a lot for someone who swears that she doesn’t care about the meatheads she hangs out with.

He heads for her as coolly as he can manage, hoping that the other guys know not to give him a hard time today. They don’t, they never would. 

His therapist says it’s a defensive thing, the way he waits for people to say the wrong thing. When he’s hurt, he expects it, almost. He’s trying to get out of it. 

They can all give him credit for that.

Even so, it doesn’t take long for conversation to fade from small talk to the newest, most exciting subject.

“So, she’s staying at your place?” Natasha’s the first one to bring up the missing party, picking up on a comment about the two of them arriving together.

Bradley shakes his head and fiddles with his root beer bottle. “No, she’ll be over at Mav’s place once we get her car fixed up. It’s a real piece of shit, I don’t even know what they’d do to make it run any better.”

“Mav loves cars — and he lets her drive a shitbox like that?” It’s Javy who scoffs that out, the only one still talking about the Captain who had taken a shine to him in present tense. 

Bradley just shrugs. This isn’t the place to unpack whatever went down between Mav and Avery. He doesn’t know enough, even if he wanted to talk about it.

“She came all the way down here by herself?” Callie asks. She doesn’t say it, but she’s referring to the fact that her mother came all the way out to Lemoore to try to move her into the barracks like it was college when she was that age. 

Bradley shrugs again. He hasn’t heard much about Avery’s mom in the past twenty years, he isn’t even sure that he ever met her — certainly wouldn’t be able to pick her out of a crowd. All he knows is the gossip he’d gotten from his mom when it was all going down. 

“How’s she doing?” Bob asks, his blue eyes deep and sincere as he searches Bradley’s face, knowing better than to ask the same question. 

“Okay, I think.” Bradley muses, thinking of how quickly Avery had questioned the recovery efforts yesterday. “I dunno how close they were, but it’s always gotta be hard. Just… trying to make it a little easier on her, I guess.” 

They all nod, slowly.

And then Avery comes marching back inside, her chin high and her hair a little wind-swept, making a beeline right for the closest thing she’s got to a friend in this town.

“Hey.” Bradley offers her a smile, and reaches out for her. His hand grazes the back of her bicep, and she smiles more genuinely than she has in the past two days.

“Hi.”

He catches sight of himself being watched, and takes a look back over Avery’s shoulder to find Penny looking. Her blue eyes flicker down to his hand on Avery’s arm. 

Pursing her lips, she rolls her eyes and shakes her head, and Bradley’s mouth almost falls open. There’s no way she thinks that he’s hitting on Avery. He’s just being friendly.

Penny knows Bradley well enough to know that. He’s always been a very affectionate guy. Still, the look that she gives him is one that certainly, and silently, tells him to keep his hands to himself. 

He blinks, and finds his friends looking back at him expectantly. 

“So, you’re taking the job?” He checks, shaking off Penny’s watchful eyes and settling back into what he knows. Avery nods her head at him.

“Starting tomorrow.”

Tomorrow. That’s way soon. He’s going to have to make sure he doesn’t keep her up until four in the morning watching the misadventures of Carrie Bradshaw tonight. 

“Well, guys, say hi to your new bartender.” 

He brings the bottle of rootbeer back up to his lips and shoots a quick glance back over Avery’s shoulder. Penny stares back, unfazed, as he narrows his eyes back at her.

What does she know about anything, anyways?

…

[onskepa]

Left behind: You promise?

Hellooooooooooo everyone! Now the story will really starts kicking! Hope you guys enjoy this one!

Left behind series

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Third pov

It was like looking at his own dead body. There he was. His twin brother, his other half, dead right before him. Jake found it a bit cruel, his brother studied hard to be in a position to go to another planet, to be with the big science guys. Only to be killed by a simple, pointless crime. 

He didn't want his little girl to see her dead uncle. It would break her heart. It was only a few days ago they all had a cup of coffee and luxury sweets called cookies, did Tommy break the news. That he would be leaving Earth for the ideal planet called pandora. To make connections with life over there. 

It was a bittersweet goodbye since the travel to pandora is 5 years. 

It was best to not tell his little girl that her super smart uncle is dead. Best that she believes he left to space.

Third pov

“I'm sorry, WHAT?” 

“The RDA wants you to take your brother's place and continue what he couldn't even start”

Jake was at a loss. He needed to mourn for his loss but the officials couldnt even give him 5 fucking minutes. 

“The RDA wants me, a crippled ex-marine, to join them? What use would I be to them?” Jake asks, feeling a bit pissed off by the second. 

“More than you know. You see Mr. Sully, your brother was going to join the Avatar program, it is a section of the RDA where scientists use a body that looks like the pandorian natives. Those bodies costs billions of dollars to make. And not being used is a huge waste” one of the officials said, almost in a robotic way. 

“So?” Jake shrugs. 

“You have a 100% accurate DNA of your brothers avatar, they want you to join in the program and do the mission that was given to tommy” 

Jake scoffs. Slamming his fists against the table. 

“You want me to leave this place, leave my kid behind. Mind you, just to get to that planet takes 5 years! 5 years of me being gone away from my kid! The hell is wrong with you?!” he shouted. Jake was ready to leave them and just get back to his home, back to his daughter. 

The two officials looked at each other, having a silent conversation in their eyes. 

“Mr. Sully, I don't think you are in a position to reject this” 

“Oh, why the fuck not?” Jake tilts his head, almost ready to laugh out of his insanity. 

“We know you are financially unstable. Barely scraping by, making a clown of yourself in low cheap bars. Can't even give a good education for your kid. Jake, you are at the bottom of the trash, and even with your useless legs, you can't crawl up. But hear this. If you join the RDA, your daughter will be given the best education we can give her. All employees who work for the RDA, if they have kids, are given the utmost care. School, shelter, a chance in life” 

It was like a spell. 

The more those bastards talk, the more tempting it sounds to jake. 

His kid getting everything he can't provide? School? A warm bed? 

“But…..it's 5 years……10 years to and from…thats….that's too much I would be missing so many years of my kid…” Jake says rather weakly. 

“Oh jake….many parents make the biggest sacrifice to give their kid a better tomorrow. If you truly care for your kid, you leave her behind”  

Jake’s pov

“You are leaving…?” Her voice was weak. 

God damn it this is going to be a lot harder than I thought. 

I accepted the Devil’s offer. I will take my brother's place in exchange for my daughter having a better future. Sad to think it might not have me involved. But there is still time, she is still a baby. By the time I returned she might be a moody teen but still a kid. 

“You are not staying with me daddy?” my little angel asks. Her eyes, her beautiful blue eyes reflecting mine. 

“It won't be forever, baby, just for a little while. Uncle tommy needs my help” 

It took everything for my voice to not shake, my girl is a smart kid, she will sense my heart breaking. 

She crawled on my lap, her little face eager. “I wanna go with you!” she whines. Shaking my head I had to explain to her. 

“I'm sorry baby, but where I am going, kids are not allowed. Too dangerous. Its safe you stay here”. 

“With Miss Morve?” she questions. God I wish. 

“No, Misses Morve is too weak, you will be going to a school that will take good care of you. Doesnt that sound nice? You get to go to school like you always wanted. Make friends and eat all the yummy foods we see on the holograms. Doesn't that sound great?” I do my best to make it sound good. 

But stubbornly, she shakes her head. 

“It's not great! You won't be here! I wanna stay with you! You said it daddy! Sullys stick together!” 

My little girl started to cry her little heart out, and I followed. Hugging her really tight, we cried for a bit. 

“Don't leave me daddy!” she wails out. 

“I won't baby, I will always be with you. It will just be for a little while. It may feel like forever, but I will come back. I promise love” I tried to reassure her. 

Feeling her pull back a bit, I can see her eyes puffy red, tears still flowing out. God, seeing her cry makes my heart ache. My little angel does hold my heart in her hands. 

“You promise?” she asks, holding out her pinky finger. 

I intertwined my pinky finger. 

“I promise. No matter what baby girl, I will come back. Sullys stick together” 

Third pov 

Handing the handlers his child’s only luggage, Jake gives his daughter one last hug. But this hug will be the last for who knows how long. 

Jake’s little girl was crying her soul, not read to really let go at all. Wanting to be with her dad forever and ever. 

“Don't leave me please!!” she begs. This was really hard for Jake. Hard for both of them. And it took jake everything in him to not change his mind. To say no to the RDA, to take back his child and go back home. But this was for her. This was for the little sully girl. To give her everything she could ever want, it required the biggest sacrifice. And that was letting go. 

“I'm not leaving you. I will come back, I promise with my life babygirl” jake says. Giving her so many kisses. 

Sniffling away her tears, his little princess leaps up to give Jake a kiss on the cheek. 

“Be good, ok? Make friends, study hard, and before you know I am back for you” 

But little Sully was still scared. 

“You won't forget about me?” she asks, wanting to make sure her dad won't forget. 

“I could never forget you. My angel, my sunshine in the rain, my little princess "Jake praises. 

Wiping away her tears, his little girl takes a deep breathe. “You promised daddy. Sullys stick together…” she says, her voice shaking. 

“Sullys stick together, forever” 

Third pov 

“And there they go! Off to the beautiful planet Pandora '' the teacher says as she shows to her class the live recording of the RDA employees in the transportation ship leaving the Earth's atmosphere. 

Among the astonished woas of the little ones, little sully was watching the ship with her careful eyes. A small tear leaving her eye. There goes her daddy. But he will come back. He promised. So, if she is a good girl and does everything, her daddy will come back for her. 

He promised. 

Right?

I am so pleased with how it turned out! Tell me what you think! Until next time! See ya!

Like the story? Put your name on the taglist for the next update!

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Taglist:

@boobitchhehe @heart-an0n @justcaptiannoodles @mochacoffeeumai26 @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @skittlebum @teyamsbitch @ratchetprime211 @iwannabeapinkaesthetic

[illarian-rambling]

Aw balls. I almost forgot an intro

Hi, I'm Katie! I'm a writer with two ongoing wips that I like yammering about, so ima do it here!

Pronouns: she/her

Age: 20

Other interests: art, dnd, the Magnus Archives, anything Cosmere related, martial arts, Critical Roll

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My wips are set in the same universe, on the planet of Illaros, fifth from the last star left living in the universe. There's a continent, some islands, and other assorted junk down there. The gods have a dyson ring, but they don't like to talk about it. The stars are the eyes of an ancient primordial force of destruction.

Honor's Outcasts follows a rag-tag group of delinquents trying to survive psycho pirates with family ties, a siren theocracy, magic that rots in your blood, and the Horrors. Their number includes such mighty heros as: a kid who can explode people with her mind, a buff shark lady who survives regular eldritch encounters by not paying attention, a mute aroace siren man with a bitchy attitude, and the world's sweetest gang mamber. Of course, they're one big family, and what's family without a little religious terrorism?

The Mystery of the Mortal God asks what happens when magic and science collide in a world where ethics panels haven't been established yet. Set a few decades down the line from HO, this story follows a cowboy witch with a chip on her shoulder as she discovers a mysterious robot laying broken and confused on the side of the road. At the same time, in a city on the other side of the globe, a blue blooded detective investigates a cold case suddenly gone hot. In time, all players will meet, including the mage who set this whole conundrum in motion.

The Final Voyage of the R.S. Starbreaker is sci-fi with ghosts! More accurately, as the magical societies of Illaros take their first steps into space, they don't use unmanned probes, but instead call upon the gods to send ghosts to be bound to a mighty runic galleon: the R.S. Starbreaker. This first skeleton crew consists of an honorable former Flying City pilot with a seedy past, a brash elven astronomer infamous for her incomplete work, a meticulous selkie cartographer determined to map the solar wheel, a laid-back fae man with a dangerous set of ideals, and the key to this mission's success: a former part of an eldritch hive mind on a hunt for his extinct people's missing afterlife.

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Anyways, if you're here, feel free to say hi! I'll mostly be posting whatever bullshit comes to mind, but maybe you'll get lucky and something entertaining will come out? I certainly hope so!

Have a bitchin' day <3

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An addition! Here are my characters' playlists! (And intros for those who have them) (All instrumental because I can't write while listening to vocals)

Izjik Meautammera +intro

Sepo Kaiacynthus +intro

Twenari Devaris +intro

Djek Kagura +intro

Daedryn Whitenight

Astra DuClaire +intro

Mashal Darezsho +intro

Ivander Montane +intro

Elsind Cavernsight +intro

Avymere Spearsong +intro

Ghost Ship Radio + wip intro (for the Starbreaker crew)

(Curious as to which character you might relate to the most? Here are some quizzes that might help you out!) (First is for MG and HO, second is for Starbreaker)

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A second addition! Please feel welcome to check out my new Illaros library! These are short stories written (mostly) in my setting that I've shared before on here, but I figured I'd put all the links in one place :)

Down in the Deep Dark - 2,500 words - The tale of how Izjik and Sepo met

Violating the 4th - 11,000 words - Coverage of the first Surgeon case from the POV of Ceyrel (Ivander’s detective partner)

Rel's Haunting - 16,000 words - A story of a fallen angel, the dead god who made them, and finding wonder in the supermarket

Full Saturation - 2,000 words - A short horror story set on modern Earth about saturation diving and places better left untouched

And for some one-shots:

Mashal and Ivander hanging out

Izjik making Sepo a flute in the Trench

The cast of Mortal God gets a beach episode

Mashal teaches Astra to ride a horse

Again, have a bitchin' day <3

[btsmosphere]

Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 4: We Aren't Heroes, Honey

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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens?~ 🗲this chapter: A chaotic arrival turns everything on its head, and the boys are ready to let you in on their real game.

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader, side established vmin 🗲word count: 5.9k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, injury, blood, weapons

a/n: if you hadn't already noticed, vmin is a side pairing in this fic! I probably won't add that in every chapter description tho, since they don't really have a plot revolving around them, but they are together as side characters because I love them mwahahaha🤩while we will learn more about them, they have an entire backstory, one of the many things I know about this universe that never made it "on screen"👀 I also just want to say how thrilled I am that people are enjoying this fic! To those of you who have left me comments, reblogged with sweet and supportive tags or sent in asks, it means the absolute world and I love you all💜💜

(previously)

“I did exactly what I’m training to do.”

“Like scare him half to death?”

Dropping your head, you gazed at your hands, wishing anew that you didn’t have this complicated curse that drove people away. That made you into a danger.

But you didn’t have the words or the will to explain this to the obstinate Jungkook.

“See you at training,” you spoke flatly, and stepped away.

See him at training you did. Not that he was any more helpful than normal.

As always, you gritted your teeth and tried to run through the same actions, still getting used to them. Over the course of the next few sessions, you certainly noticed an improvement, your powers coming more and more naturally to you than you had thought possible at first.

Still, Jungkook clearly disagreed.

You stood in the centre of the training space, arm raised. Just as you had been doing for the past half hour, you shot a bolt, expecting to hear the rattle of the target when you met it. And beyond that, the same heavy silence that always filled your practises.

Instead, your training ‘partner’ stepped nonchalantly in front of the shot.

Eyes widening, you closed your fist, shutting off the flow of power as fast as possible. But as you gawped in outrage, Jungkook raised a hand, easily deflecting the jet of blue electricity that had escaped with a quick burst of his own gold lightning.

Lowering his hand as if he hadn’t just placed himself in front of something deadly, he stuffed it into his pocket and smirked.

“What are you-” you spluttered, “you- you should be careful!”

“If I’m really expected to babysit you, I would hope to see more improvement than that,” he replied easily, “I mean, great, you can shoot, but attacking isn’t what this is all about.”

You raised an eyebrow, watching as he slowly walked towards you.

“Imagine I was someone else,” he continued.

“I wish,” you muttered, adding in an exaggerated eye roll. Jungkook didn’t comment on that, but you saw his gaze harden.

“Someone without my powers,” he drawled, “I would be dead.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to walk across while I was training!”

“You’re not supposed to expect it,” he shot back.

“And when exactly do you forsee me shooting lightning bolts out in public?”

At last, he seemed surprised by your response. Really, he thought you were raring to go out and terrorise the streets? You scoffed, ready to return to your usual mutual silence, but he recovered himself.

“You should control them in here as well,” he spoke, though there was less malice behind it this time. “You’ve already scared V shitless once.”

Arms folded, he turned his back on you, abandoning the conversation.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” you muttered, not really caring whether he decided to pay attention or not, “I’m trying.”

But if his step faltered a little, you didn’t notice. He kept his back to you and walked away.

You had been doing a steady amount of work each day with your powers. It didn’t take long for the others to be proven right as you noticed it got easier both in and out of the training rooms as time stretched on. With your powers in use so frequently, they didn’t often try to break out when you least expected it anymore.

And though it hadn’t been long, you were getting a sense of the motions of this unconventional household.

On your way to training, you would pass the others at work, with or without their powers. It made sense that superheroes (it felt strange thinking of them as superheroes, but you supposed that was what you all were, in a way) needed to work out physically as well, to give them the upper hand in any fights.

Not that you could imagine them fighting... Most of the time. Sometimes you would see the power inherent in Jimin’s stance when he threw weights heavier than you could lift across the room with a flick of a finger. Or the deadly speed and precision as Hoseok darted around impossible obstacles.

But then they would huddle around the tv with you in the evening, cradling steaming bowls of food prepared by Jin or Yoongi, usually. The sight of V bundled in a fluffy blanket, laughing at Jimin more than the film, made it hard to believe he was some supernatural force of nature.

Namjoon, though. That, you could believe. He was the rarest sight in the house, even above the enigmatically quiet V.

However, if he caught you and Jungkook on your way out of practise, he would always beam like you were his children, ignoring the scowls that no doubt adorned your faces. Jin did the same, always clapping Jungkook on the shoulder in praise.

If only the others knew how Jungkook neglected the job they believed he was doing.

But as much as you wondered how different it would be if Namjoon had continued teaching you, you understood it couldn’t be that way. Not when he was constantly holed up in his office, or staring at a tablet and tugging his hands through his hair. His job seemed to be important, always moving with hurried purpose.

So then, with all the people and noise you were surrounded by now, it was a shock when things turned quiet.

Before this, you had lived on your own. Woken up each day just to head to work, Kuyang and the lab workers the only faces you saw before returning back to empty space.

So why was it this hard to get used to again?

Sometimes, the house emptied. Not totally, but since it was usually Jungkook that remained with you, it may as well have been. Each time you came from practice to find the house deserted, a scowl would etch itself into his face and he would retreat back to the gym, or somewhere. You never bothered to follow him.

When this happened, you kept your eyes on the news. If they were superheroes – which they must be, what other job could a bunch of powered people have? – then surely they would show up?

But without fail, the news stayed quiet. Either that, or heroes like Bolt or Monsoon (another worshipped figure in your city) instead had stamped out some threat and were being celebrated as always.

You weren’t sure what it was, but something made you shut off the tv when the rest returned, not wanting them to see what you had been looking for.

Generally, though, they didn’t leave you alone for too long, which was nice. You were nearly always in the communal spaces, since you had nothing to do in your room, bare as it was.

So it was when you heard hissed voices that you realised maybe you should let them have more time without you.

“She’s not more important! I don’t get why I have to, of all of us-“

Still hidden in the corridor, you froze when you heard Jungkook’s hushed voice in the living room.

“We’re fine to be down one, it’s not particularly risky,” someone replied.

“Please, can’t one of you stay for once? I already have to spend half my time with her!”

Gulping, you retreated the way you had come. You shouldn’t be hearing this, you knew that. Above all, you couldn’t stand the flicker of hurt that bled through you at the venomous words, though you ought to be used to them by now.

Sitting in your room, you idly played around, forming a ball of blue static that hovered above your palm. You sighed as you tossed it from hand to hand. This should be impressive, but you knew you were still incredibly clumsy with your powers compared to the others: Jungkook made sure you knew it.

But you stayed there, enjoying being able to use your powers without purpose or judgment.

After a while, a tap on your door heralded Yoongi calling you for dinner. Any tension you had sensed earlier when they didn’t know you were listening had dissipated.

Of course, Jungkook was ignoring you, but it was better that way. He was battling Hobi with chopsticks instead, trying to score a piece of meat from his plate as his opponent shrieked in protest. Jimin was falling onto the table with laughter, Yoongi groaning as he took a seat and slid a bowl to you.

Quietly thanking him, you began to eat without trying to muscle into the conversation. It was clear how comfortable these boys were together, having been arguing not long before and now joking around with the air free of bad feelings.

Even though you had never predicted your life going in this direction, you found yourself grateful. Despite the obvious Jungkook issue, having these vibrant people around you was such a stark contrast to your lonely state before Bolt had tried to kill you.

You were only reminded of the frosty conversation you had accidentally eavesdropped when, a few days later, you got the afternoon free of Jungkook.

As usual, that morning the two of you occupied the same room, training by yourselves. Today, Jungkook never offered so much as a word, and almost sprinted away after the hour was up. You couldn’t bring yourself to complain, instead taking the time to rest and return lazily upstairs at your own pace.

When you arrived, the unfortunately familiar sight of an empty apartment waited for you.

Funny, though. You hadn’t seen Jungkook come back downstairs as he normally did when the others went out.

Shrugging it off, you headed for the shower. It had almost slipped your mind by the time you emerged, but confusion instantly resurfaced when you were faced with the back of Jin’s head.

Stepping around the sofa and into the main space, you caught his attention.

“Ah, Y/N,” he greeted, turning away from the tv show he had quietly in the background.

“Jin,” you smiled, “where’s Jungkook?”

A smirk bloomed on his face before you had the chance to realise how that might have sounded.

“I didn’t realise you would miss him,” he teased.

Rolling your eyes, you sunk onto the other sofa.

“I’m not sorry to see him gone,” you quickly backpedalled, “but I just… thought you had all gone out again.”

“Well, Kook was feeling left out,” Jin explained, “I know you two aren’t exactly the best of friends but he’s still been helping you out, so we thought it was fair he doesn’t have to do that all the time and miss out on our… stuff.”

You nodded along as you understood the situation. As if to distract from his strangely vague ending statement, Jin jumped straight in again with a chipper voice.

“But I heard you’re getting much better! Jungkook says he can trust you to work independently, so maybe you won’t have to endure each other’s company as much!”

Now that made you laugh. Loudly. Jungkook had better trust you to work independently – he forced you to do it half the time anyway with his reluctance to teach you.

Jin seemed pleased with your reaction, and you two carried on chatting. It took you a while to even notice his quick glances at the door, the slight jittering leg, the distracted way he watched the show with glazed eyes, not fully taking it in.

When he suggested dinner, he all but sprang from the sofa. With a light frown, you followed him. What was giving him so much nervous energy?

Outside was dark by now, but that didn’t stop Jin’s eyes straying to the black sky visible through the window.

For once, you actually acquiesced to him rejecting your offer to help in the kitchen. He seemed pleased to have his hands busy, even if his knife occasionally clattered too loudly on the counter or oil splatted out of the slightly too-hot pan.

But all that was forgotten when a commotion suddenly shocked the air. The main door must be fully soundproof: that was the only explanation for the way it was silent one second, and the next raised voices were almost at the top of the stairs.

Whipping around to face the sudden interruption, Jin brandished his spatula in panic for a moment. You jumped from your seat.

Then Namjoon swept into the room, long coat swishing as he marched across the room, face set. Looking first at him in panic, your eyes returned to the others following him in and your jaw dropped.

Between Jimin and Jungkook, they were supporting V, whose head drooped alarmingly, legs barely making purchase on the floor. You were frozen on the spot as they hauled him past you. You hadn’t even noticed Yoongi come in until items were being shoved roughly from the counter to the floor to make space to lay V down there.

Swallowing, you staggered back a step, watching with wide eyes at his collapsed form. Sweat beaded on his furrowed brow, feverish spasms weakly shaking his body.

“What happened?” Jin exclaimed, panic shaking his voice.

A storminess brewed in Namjoon’s eyes, which glowed a little red though you weren’t sure if he noticed he was doing that. Turning to Jin with a serious expression, all he said was:

“Our suspicions were true.”

His words meant nothing to you, but the way Jin’s face paled struck fear through you.

Closest to the table, Jimin’s eyes glistened with tears as he clutched V’s hand, murmuring to him. You couldn’t hear him, but you had the feeling it wasn’t for you to hear and turned your eyes away.

Not a moment later, a harsh shove had you stumbling to the side, Jungkook barging past. You couldn’t even spite him for it. The panic spiralling through you at the state of your friend was painful enough, but these boys were his family. You couldn’t imagine the depth of their worry right now.

“What do we do?” Jungkook demanded, stopping in front of Namjoon and Jin. His frame was taught, nearly shaking as he looked to his hyungs for answers.

They always seemed to know what to do, but the uncertainty on Jin’s face as he stepped closer to the unconscious V was concerning.

“W-what happened?” he asked.

Hope was wringing his hands beside him, but spoke up.

“It was like we thought, when we showed up. We knew we had to get out, but B- he caught us, right at the end. We were just going, but V freaked, and-and then he- then- I don’t know what it was hyung, but he shot something…”

Hobi’s voice was bordering on hysterical, and as he trailed away, he leant forwards to pull V’s jacket aside. Jimin whimpered, turning his face away to bury it further against V’s arm.

There, on V’s torso, a section of his shirt was mangled, a bloodied shape seemingly etched into his side. Though the bloodstained shirt made it difficult to see, you couldn’t mistake that. It was no gunshot wound – you had seen something like this before.

The injury was fairly large, shaped something like a star. A familiar shape instantly sprung into your imagination, metal that spit sparks as it flew across the room, latching onto the wall at the other end.

Except, this time it had certainly not been used in lab conditions.

“I- I don’t know,” Jin was stuttering, “I’ve never seen something like this before…”

The silence was totally stifling, Jin’s admission met with disbelief. Namjoon ran hands roughly through his hair, biting at his cheek.

“We have to DO SOMETHING!”

Jungkook’s yell made you flinch a little. He moved forcefully, returning to the table with a handful of tea towels and thrusting one at Hope.

“Let’s just- stop the bleeding, at least-”

“He has powers, the bleeding isn’t the issue, Jungkook-”

“Do you have any better ideas?!”

His eyes flickered a blazing gold as he spun to yell at Jin, something he would never normally do. But right now, that was the least of his worries. He trembled from head to toe with tension, and you could see the shine of tears he was unable to will away from his eyes.

“Right, yes,” Jin swallowed, taking the towel and pressing it to the wound, as Hobi was already doing.

At the no doubt painful contact, though, V jerked a little, purple flame shooting from his hands. It was brief, but you all jumped back from the sudden heat.

“Why’s he doing that?” Jimin’s voice thrummed with underlying fear, “he hasn’t had an outburst in…”

The others only looked between themselves, equally lost.

After a moment, V hadn’t moved again, and Jimin was the first to gravitate back to his side.

Frowning at the ground, you willed your memory to work faster. Jimin’s heartbreaking calls for V, hand pressed desperately to his cheek though he was met with no response, had you racing through your memories.

Kuyang had had you in charge of all his safety files back at the lab, but right now you didn’t have access to the computer with them all stored on. It was at the tip of your tongue, just out of reach. You frantically grasped for any hint of memory about this particular weapon.

“Iodine,” you muttered. Your eyes widened as it dawned on you.

No one heard.

“Iodine,” you repeated, louder this time, “do you have iodine?”

Heads turned towards you, as if they had forgotten you were there at all. Jimin’s tearful face emerged, tentatively hopeful as you spoke.

“That wound is radioactive, it’s what’s messing with his powers. We need to give him some before it gets too far into his bloodstream.”

You spoke with a calm urgency, grateful you could keep your voice from wavering. Trusting your firm tone, Jin hurriedly nodded, darting away down the corridor without a look back.

As you watched him go, you caught Namjoon’s gaze. You stood awkwardly, not knowing what to do with yourself, and his piercing stare startled you. A frown tightened his features and you had the odd sensation that he was calculating you.

Still, he said nothing. But it seemed someone else was less afraid to breach the silence.

“Who put you in charge?”

Only Jungkook had the sense to question you, glaring from where he had taken over pressing on V’s wound.

“This weapon, it uses radiation-“ you began.

“How do you know?” He cut you off. “Isn’t iodine toxic? You’re trying to kill him-”

“It’s the only way-”

“I won’t let you touch him!”

Tentatively stepping forward, you fixed Jungkook with a level gaze. His eyes narrowed, distrustful.

“It’s only toxic if we give too much,” you explained, forcing your voice to stay calm, “he has powers, he should be able to take it. Like Jin said, with powers, you can withstand more bleeding than others. It’s the radiation poisoning that’s hurting him, not the wound.”

Though his teeth were gritted and his glare lost none of its ferocity, he kept quiet.

“We need to stop it,” you spoke with finality.

Just then, Jin dashed back into the room, bottles and packets nearly spilling from his arms before he deposited them on the counter. Rushing forwards to meet him, you spotted some other bottles too.

“Pentetic acid? Where did you get-“

“It helps, doesn’t it?” Jin supplied, and you left it at that. It was another agent Kuyang had had on the safety files as a radiation blocker, but you had never expected to see it outside a lab.

You didn’t complain, though. V needed all the help he could get.

Jin’s fingers fumbled with a small needle as he pulled it out and filled it, looking to you for confirmation.

Nodding, you hastily stepped out of his way, planting yourself beside Jungkook. He watched warily, though you were sure it helped that it was Jin applying the remedy and not you.

A stony silence fell once Jin pulled away. Of course, it wouldn’t work instantly, but you hoped with all your might that some change would be visible. These chemicals were dangerous, the cure to this weapon difficult to apply for good reason. It was a weapon after all.

The bin opened and closed, the room so quiet you could hear the used needle falling inside it.

Hope sunk weakly into a chair, eyes still fixed on his injured brother. Jimin remained close to V, gripping his hand despite the threat of the fire that could burst from them at any moment.

Your eyes slid to Jungkook at your side. Of course he didn’t look away from V.

It felt as if your heart was squeezing its way up your throat, the longer V remained motionless. He had been seriously hurt, and though you were confident in your cure, having learned it from the weapon’s creator, the nagging worry that you might have made it worse refused to go away.

V could be hurt. He could – you didn’t even dare to think it.

The others would never forgive you. Jungkook would never forgive you. You would never be able to forgive yourself if you caused something like this.

And beyond all that, your mind was running frantic laps trying to figure out how Kuyang’s prototypes had ended up being fired at your new friends. Kuyang may have been unhinged, and more than a little shady, but to commit such violence?

But there must have been a reason for him making the things he did in that lab…

The memory of his face the last time you saw him assaulted you then; the way his normally pleasant demeanour left no trace on his fearsome expression when he had found Bolt inside his lab.

Guilt sat heavily inside you as you gazed down at V.

“Taetae?”

Jimin’s voice was quiet, nervous, but still sweet. Despite the low volume, as the only sound in the room it caught everyone’s attention.

A laugh bubbled out of Jimin as the younger boy stirred with a low groan.

“Hey, can you hear me?” Jimin cooed, “you’re okay, we’re home, I’m here.”

Gently, him and Jin helped the boy to sit, and though he seemed tired, the flush had faded from his cheeks. He was no longer sweating and his breathing was even, but his hair was left sticking in places to his forehead.

Jimin took his hands.

“Can you feel your powers, baby? Are-are they there?”

Slowly, V nodded. Turning a hand over, he summoned a single flame, livid purple, to dance on his palm.

“Okay, okay,” Jin closed his fist, “don’t tire yourself out.”

But you could tell he was as relieved as the others that V could still control his powers. Even if you had only just learned what they were, you now understood Jungkook’s outburst when you had come across V at night before. If not controlled, fire was certainly a lethal force to have at your fingertips.

They left, disappearing to get V settled and cleaned up. Even though having powers gave you higher tolerance to injuries, it was still unwise to leave them untreated.

Casting your eyes across the rest of the room, you saw Jungkook duck away from your gaze.

You let him.

The remnants of adrenaline in your body were fizzling out and you understood the temptation to collapse into a seat.

However, as Yoongi moved across to the stove, you joined him without a word needing to be exchanged. The cold beginnings of Jin’s meal from earlier were sitting in pans and chopping boards, and you simply picked up where he left off.

The two of you cooked with minimal movement and noise, not disrupting the stillness of the kitchen as everyone soaked in what had just happened. At some point Namjoon had disappeared.

Though only four of you remained, you ate nonetheless and boxed the rest up. No one said much, and you didn’t try to change that. In fact, you hardly looked up from your plate, preferring to leave the others to their thoughts. They didn’t need you intruding right now.

Of course, that did nothing to stop the onslaught of questions filling your mind.

You still didn’t really know what the boys got up to on their mysterious excursions, and V coming home so badly injured – by one of your old boss’ experiments, no less – only made you more lost. And intrigued.

Still, you held your tongue.

It was only when you collected everyone’s plates that you caught Jungkook’s eyes boring into the side of your head. Looking up at last, you found him staring at you with a confused frown etched across his brow. He held your gaze though, the ever present intensity of his own making you shrink away towards the basin to distract yourself with washing up.

Just as you thought you would have to endure a silent room without the distraction of food to alleviate the tension, Namjoon returned.

At first, only seeing a shadowy figure in the hall, you thought perhaps V had come back, or at least Jin or Jimin to give an update. Perhaps that was entirely too optimistic. Nonetheless, even the stressed-looking Namjoon was a welcome distraction.

You had begun to scoop some more food into a bowl for him when he spoke. He hadn’t come any further into the room, still hovering in the shadows of the hallway.

“I’m sure you have questions.”

Pausing in your movements, you lifted your head. The others all turned their heads to you as well, leaving you like an animal stuck in headlights.

“Uh-” you stuttered once you eventually caught up with yourself, “I mean, I guess…”

Glancing around you, you found Yoongi and Hope looked a little nervous, some doubt in their faces. Jungkook, on the other hand, was smirking.

Not knowing what to make of that, you decided not to keep Namjoon waiting. He seemed fairly expectant, his not entering the room making it clear that you should follow, so you picked up some chopsticks and brought the food along with you.

Namjoon may have seemed a little surprised when you handed him his dinner, but he took it anyway. Once you were in his office, he started eating without complaint.

“Am I right to presume,” he began between mouthfuls, though he was preparing the next already, “that you knew about the weapon used on V because of your work for Kuyang?”

You quickly confirmed, but you could no longer hold back further questions.

“Yes, but how did it end up- I mean, why was it used? Did Kuyang-?”

Shaking his head, Namjoon cut you off with a wave of his chopsticks. He swallowed and continued perfectly calmly.

“It wasn’t Kuyang that used it.”

Already, your shoulders slumped in relief. But still-

“Then how…?”

Sighing, Namjoon set his cutlery down and sat back.

“Kuyang is one of our… associates,” he began to explain. “After the attack, he escaped, as you know, and went into hiding. Only, we found his lab totally empty soon after.”

At this he sighed, raking a hand through his hair as he always seemed to do without noticing. You could empathise with his stress; the news had you shuffling closer to the edge of your seat. The stuff Kuyang worked with was dangerous, it shouldn’t just… go missing.

“We weren’t sure what to think at first, and we investigated for a while. Other, similar cases have cropped up too, others among our allies being raided. It became too difficult to deny what we feared… Bolt was the only connection.”

Without noticing, your mouth was gaping open, eyes widening. You blinked as Namjoon’s words sunk in. But surely you were misunderstanding? It couldn’t be…

Slowly, you were able to form words.

“Bolt fired at V? At all of you?”

Namjoon nodded.

Shutting your mouth, you swallowed. Your mind may have been whirling at a hundred miles an hour, but nothing made it as far as to form a sentence. Fragments flitted past, telling a story you were afraid to believe.

Bolt was the city’s superhero… a hero… everyone knew that.

He protected the city from harm.

Yet he had shot you… and now V…

The silence stretched out, Namjoon pausing in his meal as he watched you. When you eventually spoke, your voice was small.

“You were fighting… against Bolt?”

A wry chuckle left his lips. Cocking his head, he clasped his hands.

“Villains, one might say. Many do.”

You simply blinked at him. Meanwhile, Namjoon stared evenly at you, gauging your reaction.

“What else has Bolt done?” you ventured.

Namjoon’s eyebrows raised.

“What do you mean?”

Stammering slightly, you tried to explain.

“Well, I already know Bolt isn’t exactly as… innocent, as most people think. He- I mean, at Kuyang’s- when Bolt was there, he had no reason to shoot me? But I hadn’t really thought about… why he was at Kuyang’s lab. What’s going on?”

As you spoke, a faint smile quirked Namjoon’s mouth. As you trailed off, he nodded. It seemed he was finally willing to indulge you.

“It’s true that Kuyang had set his latest experiment on Bolt already. To the media, it would simply seem that Bolt was retaliating, or eradicating the threat they perceive people like Kuyang to be. But today confirmed what we feared. Bolt is collecting.”

“He’s not destroying those weapons?”

Before Namjoon’s confirming shake of the head, you already knew the answer.

Though many of your questions had now been answered, it felt like you had opened up a whole new realm of possibilities that you couldn’t wrap your head around. But Namjoon didn’t allow you time to spiral into further confusion.

“I had hoped this would have to come later,” he spoke carefully, chewing on his cheek as he sat back once more. “we’ve taken in a few people before, helped them control their powers and then proceed to leave this life behind…

“You clearly know that this world isn’t as black and white as the city media wants us to think. But you should also know we aren’t many people’s idea of heroes. We fight against this society. We use violence, we support developers like Kuyang, who are…”

A wave of his hand was all that was needed. You both knew the kind of person it took to create the things Kuyang spent his time working on.

“People don’t agree with us,” he continued seriously, “which is why I’m offering you the chance to leave. As I said, we normally wait until someone has full control of their powers. Out there, the world isn’t exactly… kind to people like us. Bolt, Monsoon, heroes from tv – they’re the exceptions. People don’t like those who are different. They see our powers as a threat, and they do twisted things to gain power over people they fear. If you choose to go, we want you to at least be safe.”

Breathing deeply, you sat reeling.

Everything that had been presented to you should have flipped this whole thing on its head. Your new friends were by no means superheroes, as you previously thought. There was a reason you never saw their names in glowing lights on tv like Bolt.

But really… did it change anything?

Breaking through the silence, the click of the door handle. Since the new arrival hadn’t even knocked, you were certain who it was before they even entered your line of sight.

“Hey,” Jin spoke. Then he paused, looking between the two of you in the sombre silence. Cautiously raising a brow, he turned towards Namjoon. “You told her?”

Namjoon nodded.

“How’s V?” Namjoon then asked nearly straight away. That was a relief; you were wondering the same thing yourself.

Wiping his brow, Jin perched himself against the desk. Though his sigh was tired, he nodded.

“He’ll be fine. He’s already annoying poor Jiminie again, so that should tell you enough.” After a brief hesitation, he continued, eyes shifting to you. “That was a close one though… if Y/N hadn’t been there…”

With the room’s attention on you once again, you gulped. But somehow, what you said next didn’t take you much thought.

“I want to stay.”

Namjoon kept his infuriating poker face on as he appraised you, but Jin cracked a smile.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he grinned, clapping you on the shoulder. Turning to Namjoon, he cried a smug “I told you!”

Encouraged, you nodded with more certainty.

“I agree with you guys – Bolt goes unquestioned, he’s practically worshipped. But whatever he’s doing, I want to help stop him. And he did try to kill me after all – you guys are the ones who've helped me. I trust you.”

“Good,” Namjoon spoke, digging back in to his food, “I wanted to offer you a position in the team, if you said yes. With Bolt on the move like this, we need all the power we can get-”

As a smile was just blooming on your face, it was halted by his next words.

“But. You aren’t ready just yet. I want you out there with us, so I’m willing to send you out sooner than I have with others before. These are unusual times, and you have to understand this will be more dangerous than I normally send rookies to. There’s work to do, with your powers, but also…

“As much as I appreciate your trust in us, I know it doesn’t extend fully. I need my team to be able to trust each other. Every single one.”

Fixing you with a hard stare to accompany his last words, he was effective in making you shrink in your seat. You knew exactly who he was talking about.

And that person was waiting for you right outside.

On leaving the office, you found Jungkook leaning up against the wall. Jin and Namjoon had hung back, leaving you alone as you emerged, and you instantly rolled your eyes. Determined not to be deterred, you kept walking down the corridor, trying to fix your eyes ahead – firmly away from the infuriating man that watched your approach.

“Scared yet?” his smirk bled through his words. You were almost upon him at this point, and he pushed away from the wall, blocking the way with his black-clad body.

Eyes flicking up to him, unimpressed, you tapped your foot.

“Why would I be scared?”

One corner of his mouth curved up, looking you in the eye as he leaned a little closer.

“We aren’t heroes, honey.”

“Thanks for spelling that out, Jungkook,” you drawled, making to step past him.

His laughter followed you while you started walking away.

“Need help packing?” he called.

“Hey, Jungkook,” Jin’s stern voice joined him, “no need. She’s not going anywhere.”

Jungkook’s silence spoke volumes.

Glancing back as you reached the end of the corridor, you were met with the livid expression that seemed so familiar. Jungkook’s eyes bulged with shock. You were sure that Jin’s hand on his shoulder was all that was holding him back.

Making the most of his eyes on you, you flashed a serene smile and walked away.

But though an (admittedly large) part of you took satisfaction in Jungkook’s shock and rage, you knew you would be expected to work with him. Properly work with him, not the frosty silence he currently counted as work.

With the impossibility of this steadily creeping over you, you climbed the stairs heavily.

As you returned to the wary stares of your friends and dispelled their trepidation, assuring them you were staying and trying to settle down to a relatively normal evening, it remained in the back of your mind.

But you could deal with Jungkook tomorrow. For now, you let yourself be reminded of the reasons you wanted to stay here with them.

Thank you for reading!!💜comments, questions etc. are always welcome! Fanfiction is all about community and if you wanted a sign that it's ok to participate, you are invited!!💞

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[alyyybrooke]

allure

camila montes x fem!reader

horror movie date with Camila

Warnings: little bit of gore, making out

Word Count: 1.5k

A knock at the door startled you. You put down your mascara wand and double checked yourself in the mirror. Perfect. Your hair cascaded in loose curls over your chosen outfit: A crop top and some baggy jeans. It was cute and casual.

"Coming!" you called to the door and rushed to answer it.

You swung open the door and blushed at the sight of her. She had a navy blue crewneck over a white tee, accompanied with baggy jeans. Her fuschia streaks shone brightly against her brunette hair. In her hand was a beautiful bouquet of red carnations, your favorite flower.

"Didn't expect you to be such a romantic, Camila," you smirked, taking the flowers.

"Yeah well...gotta woo you somehow. You look super hot by the way." You flushed at her compliment, heat rushing to your face.

"Says you," you replied with a smile.

"Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah one sec, lemme just grab my wallet."

When you returned, Camila grabbed your hand and led you to her car, where she opened the door for you.

"Such a gentleman," you teased. She rolled her eyes playfully and got into the driver's seat. As she started the engine she noticed your lack of a jacket.

"Aren't you gonna be cold?" she asked worriedly. You loved how much she cared for you. Even just simple things like this.

"Well luckily chivalry apparently isn't dead, so I can just wear yours," you said happily, poking her cheek in delight.

She laughed and shook her head, then started the drive to the movie theater. You had begrudgingly agreed on a horror movie for your second date, though it took a lot of convincing on Camila's part. You didn't even know what it was called, since frankly, you didn't care. All you wanted was to spend time with Camila. If that meant watching people get brutally murdered on a huge screen, so be it.

Upon arrival she opened the door for you once again, taking your hand as you walked out.

"Okay, Casanova, let's go."

She put her arm around you and kissed your cheek.

"You smell good," she mumbled. Once more, she made you blush.

You two bought your tickets and popcorn and went to find your seats. Previews for other movies were already playing, and you started to get a little nervous. Even the trailers were a little frightening.

"Cami, I'm scared," you sighed, not missing her little smile at the nickname.

"Don't worry baby, I'll protect you." She winked and dragged you down into your seat.

"Ugh I never should have agreed to this."

You grumpily munched on popcorn as the movie began. And right you were, you never should have agreed to this. Within the first thirty minutes, an eye was stabbed and an arm was twisted and ripped off. You yelped and jumped with every new kill. Camila was enjoying this thoroughly, giggling whenever you got scared.

"You wanna come sit with me?" she asked playfully, wiggling her eyebrows.

You quickly nodded and slipped into the little empty space beside her, your leg resting on top of hers. She snaked her arms around your waist and kissed your shoulder. Her affections made your heartbeat rise, and the warmth of her kisses lit your body aflame. Soon enough another character was butchered, the woman's throat getting slit open. You jumped in Camila's arms, and she pulled you closer to her, trying to ease your worries.

"Relax. I'm here," she whispered in your ear. Though she loved to tease you, sometimes you forget how sweet Camila could be.

Throughout the whole movie, you only melted closer into Camila's embrace. By the end of the film, you were completely on top of her, your back facing the screen. Only when it finally ended, you pulled away. The lights came back on, and the other people in the theater began to file out.

You noticed Camila's raised eyebrows, and yours furrowed in confusion. She glanced down at your lap and you realized the compromising position you were in. Your legs were straddling her lap, and her hands still haven't left your waist. Clearing your throat nervously, you rapidly removed yourself from her body.

When you left the theater an immediate chill ran up your spine. Camila noticed and began to remove her sweatshirt, shaking her head in amusement. The garment was soft and warm, and smelled just like her. You snuggled into it, causing another smirk to spread across Camila's face.

"So...did you like the movie?" she asked playfully.

"Yep. So good," you grumbled sarcastically, tugging her closer when you remembered the morbid gore of the movie. "Did you like it?"

"Yeah it was alright, but I've seen better," she replied. "I did enjoy having you on my lap though," she added.

Heat rose in your cheeks once more. Camila was gonna be the death of you if she kept shamelessly flirting like this. You giggled and leaned up, pressing your lips to her cheek. (ik jenna's like 5'1 but camila gives tall vibes so jus roll w it if ur taller than her)

You two just slowly walked back to the car, enjoying the company of each other and the playful banter. You've only known Camila for a few months, but you already feel like you've known her forever. She made you feel safe, and happy. People warned you about her, saying that she'd only date you for a fuck, then leave you high and dry. But they were all wrong. Camila was sweet and effortlessly funny, and it was clear that she cared about you.

As she drove you home, you talked and talked, laughing at all her jokes. The horrible images of the movie quickly washed away, Camila easing away all of the fear. Her hand found its way to yours, the other firmly gripped on the steering wheel. Something so simple as this was insanely attractive. Everything about her was so enticing. Her hair, her style, her effortless confidence. She was a drug and you were willingly addicted.

"See something you like?" Her voice broke you from your trance. The smug grin was back. You quickly averted your eyes, trying to focus on something other than the girl beside you. She chuckled and squeezed your hand softly. "It's okay. You know I don't mind."

She pulled up to your house and stopped the car at the curb. The date had reached its end. But, you didn't want it to. You wanted to stay with her, go wherever, it really didn't matter. You just wanted, needed to be with her.

"Do you want me to walk you?" she asked, curious as to why you haven't opened the door yet.

You met her gaze and swallowed nervously. Unintentionally, you quickly glanced at her lips. You unconsciously bit your lip, ideas of kissing her flooding your brain. You tried to ignore them, tried to push them away, it was only your second date after all, but the thoughts stubbornly stayed put. You gulped nervously and shook yourself from the enchanting spell she had you under.

"No, I'm okay." You smiled and leaned over the console, kissing her cheek once more. "This was fun, but next time I'm picking the date."

You opened the car door and began to step out, but her hand on your wrist stopped you. She yanked you back into the seat and leaned into you. Her hot breath fanned over your face, her eyes completely locked on your lips. She stopped right before they touched, and your breath hitched at the close proximity.

"Can I kiss you baby?" she husked.

Any and all rational thoughts flew out the window. You nodded fervently and she firmly pressed her lips against yours. You sighed in pleasure at the awaited contact.

She pulled away in hesitation, silently asking if you wanted to take it further. You wordlessly climbed over her lap, and straddled her, aggressively kissing her once more. Her tongue expertly traced your bottom lip, before softly entering your mouth. Your tongue sensually grazed hers, and you moaned quietly at her touch. Her hands gripped your waist tightly, one sliding up to tug your hair. Her lips moved to your neck, and you tilted your head to give her more access. The pleasure was intoxicating, groans of enjoyment escaping your lips.

"Eres tan hermosa, mi amor," she mumbled against your neck.

Her hands liften your shirt and slid underneath, rubbing your back and moving towards your bra. You tensed at the movement and pulled away from her lips.

"Uhm, Cami? I'm loving this right now, but I don't think I'm ready for sex yet," you said softly, avoiding her eyes.

She grabbed your chin with her fingers and forced you to look at her. Her thumb traced circles over your cheek.

"Hey, it's okay. I won't pressure you into anything," she said earnestly.

You mentally swooned. Everyone was so wrong about her. You rested your forehead against hers and pecked her lips.

"Do you wanna stay the night?" you asked softly, your eyes never leaving hers.

She smiled and laughed, wrapping her arms around you and pulling you close. She kissed your cheek and you melted into her.

"I'd love to."

[night-dazai]

Back Home

Summary: 2 weeks and the greatest sorcerer has not seen his pretty little lover, but while he was supposed to come home she leaves for a beach trip ....or....did she.

Long missions were something Gojo had always hated. He could not see his loved ones, and boring curses to fight and- “Ugh? Really? This is a grade A …the old farts,” he grumbled while killing the cruse and sipping his drink, “And this is sour,” he thought and looked 100% dissatisfied. That's when his phone rang, and blindfolded, dead eyes sparkled with joy reading your name.

“Hello love~ “ he chirped, tossing his drink into the nearest bin, and dusting his sleeves. “Huh… what? You are… going out?” He sounded horrified. The only thing he wanted after a long mission was you, the bed, and sex and if you go out now? You wouldn't be back for three days, how could he survive? “Hmm…fine. Get ready, all nice and pretty for me. How about you wear the black dress we bought a week ago? Yeah…you like that …of course, that's why I bought it. Now get ready.” He smirks, and cuts the call before you could respond.

It has been around thirty minutes, your bag for 2 nights and 3 days was ready and so were you. Your tight, black dress had a heart neck outlining your chest perfectly. You looked once more in the mirror and checked your dress. It was a girl’s trip plan, you, Shoko and Utahime were going to the beach. You didn’t really want to go, cause the next day gojo will come home after his 2 week long mission, and you wanted to greet him, but the girls insisted and you gave in.

As you were checking your bag, the front door opened “Shoko bedroom !” You shouted, not turning or even checking as to who came in, but suddenly two strong arms around your waist made you jump “AHH!” you shouted but your face was turned by rough hands, and the rest of your screams were swallowed by a hot kiss.

Fear and worry eased when you saw no eyes, but a dark blue blindfold and white hair sticking to the forehead. “GOJO!” You exclaimed, pushing his face and creating some space between the two of you. You could hear him whine due to the loss of touch. “Don't go…please….2 weeks … I suffered, I need you …” He begged, whiny. Soft lips on your neck left a few kisses as his hands roamed your body, legs trying to push you onto the bed. “No…I told them I would go. It has been so long since the 3 of us went out,” you said, trying to get him off you but it was of no use.

His lips found yours again while both of your hands got pinned above your head, his free hand removed his blindfold. “It is not long, but it will do,” he said. In an instant, the material was ripped and was tied perfectly like a bow on your wrists. “There, all better...my cute present is all ready for me.” He smiled like a kid who just got his birthday present.

Soft-looking rough hands roamed your hands massaging your breasts for a solid nine seconds, before ripping the martial into shreds. “GOJO NO!!” Your shouts fell on deaf ears “Please y/n …please.” He begged, pouting on your breasts while hands were on your inner thighs near your core but not touching you...yet.

You loved the dress, gojo picked it for you and it was really pretty but it's gone, you know he would buy you another one, why even the same one but…

“Fine. At least untie me,” you said, giving up. It had been 2 weeks and it was a lie if you said you also did not miss him and your fingers were not as good as his. “Ah… slow..slow down,” you said, while his long fingers abused your cunt, pace fast and harsh. “Come on, I am not in any mood for slow stuff,” he said. His voice was different and the glint in his eyes was definitely scary, but something made you more wet. “Oh..why is my sweet fucktoy clenching so hard?” He asked . One hand thrust in and out while the other abused your clit roughly and soon he pressed on that spot, making you see stars and having your first proper orgasm in two weeks.

With half-closed eyes and quivering legs, you tried to capture your breath. “Now now, don't pass out here,” he said, tapping his dick on your puffy clit. “Time to go in,” he said and before you could talk he was in. One thrust knocked all the air out of your lungs and your eyes rolled back. “Go-gojo….” you mumbled, trying anything to get him to slow down but now-

SLAP!

Had you screaming and freezing. “Behave,” he said. This was not the whiny cute gojo but the one who needs what he wants. As you tried to talk again.

SLAP ! SLAP !SLAP!

Your thighs which were red now had his sky-blue eyes going dark. “You look so lovely with my marks, '' he said, kissing the red handprints, and not stopping. From the start ,the pace was rough. His balls were slapping your ass, and while one hand pulled and twisted your nipple the other played with your clit from time to time.

“Look here …” hands pulled your chin to look at him.

Tears streamed down your face, the pleasure was overwhelming after the long break and nothing could leave your mouth other than porn-worthy moans, which just made him go harder. “I said look here “ he pressed your cheeks roughly when you did not open your eyes. Slowly, you opened your wet eyes, mascara running down, red lipstick smeared all over your mouth “Pretty..my pretty “ he mumbled before entering your mouth.

The kiss was hot, wet, and messy. His pace got a bit faster when you yelled into the kiss, sculpted hips thrusting into you at a faster pace, and the dick inside you was twitching for sure and suddenly he made sure to hit that one spot again and again, making you see stars… or heaven. You have no idea which it was.

Low grunts made you open your eyes to see your pretty boyfriend, sweat dripping down his face and model body, with white hair sticking to his forehead, eyes closed, and chasing his high while hands holding your hips to ensure you don't run or move away in force. Hips rutting into your bruising, soon you could feel your second knot in the stomach and soon after you came he followed.

“Three seconds…break ???” you thought and opened your eyes to see him looking at your cunt, you could not move but you were sure he was watching his cum drip out of your hole “Go..gojo ?” You called out in a feeble voice. A childish smile formed on his face as he peeled his eyes from below and looked into your eyes, he adjusted his hips a little, hitting your spot again. “Ah..noo.. stop “ you whined while he leaned to kiss your forehead. “No? Love, we haven't even started for the night.” He said, still smiling and removed the knot on your hands.

You clasped your hands on his neck. “Please… I am dead tired,” you said, while he rose and sat you down on his lap, his dick going a little deeper. You hissed.

“But I am not,” he said, kissing your neck and leaving a hickey. With you on his lap he turned and leaned on the headboard, “Now just shut up and take it like a good girl,” he said through gritted teeth, thrusting you on his dick, biting your neck and leaving angry, red marks, while your manicured hands left marks on his pale, gold shoulders.

It was a very long ……… night and Utahime was sure to shout at Gojo the next day for spoiling your plans.

This is the results of the poll.

[sungbeam]

BIRD HUNT — three

nonidol!choi line x f!reader

gotham city is a gutter running rampant with the ill, corrupt, and the insane. at times, justice and vengeance must be served by one's own hand... no matter the lengths one must go to do so.

▷ genre, au, etc. bat family au, dc comics inspired, dark, vigilantes au, slow burn, ceo/billionaire au, cat woman!reader, murder mystery au, action, suspense, angst, slow burn-ish?, love square??; choi line inspired by dick grayson (csb), jason todd (cyj), and tim drake (cbg), including bruce wayne for choi minho and damian wayne for nishimura riki, inspired by 2022's The Batman

▷ chapter warnings. swearing, mentions of death and murder, mentions of weaponry, depictions of violence, use of pepper spray, breaking and entering

▷ word count. 4.4k // taglist: open

« prev · m.list · next »

FILE_03 : by the tail

gotham city.

[seven days since your mother was murdered.]

"Is she here?"

The voice was familiar to your sensitive ears, and although your eyes remained fixed on Mrs. Lee, you shifted your attention mentally to the two—no, three—wait… four?—figures making their way over to where you and Mrs. Lee stood in the home office space. Their footsteps were as quiet as heeled loafers could be against hollow wood floors. The Lees' home in the suburbs was a safe distance from the heart of Gotham, so the neighborhood was much nicer and much more like a home. The Lees had been ushered here after Lee Sungjae had been found murdered, and they'd resided here since.

You had been called in the day after the incident happened—that was the day after you had gone to see your father. We must work fast, Yn. They've already gotten to one of my… men. That was what he'd told you, and when he elaborated, you had discovered that every news channel now blasted footage of Lee Sungjae's dead, glassy eyes.

You had been busy since, trying to both grieve in peace and work at the same time.

"—take more time, Yn-ah. Losing a loved—" Mrs. Lee's voice cracked slightly and she covered her mouth.

"Mrs. Lee—"

She waved your hand away, angling her body away slightly so she could regain composure. "No, no. It's alright. I'm alright. I just… I know how it feels, and I think you deserve time to yourself, as well."

Of course you told her about your mother. You had to take another day off when one of your coworkers had noticed how spaced out you were when you came in. No, you didn't tell her your mother was murdered the same way her husband had. That was between you, your father, and the motherfucker who did this.

But for now, you were supposed to be here to answer the police's questions about your employer. You had been one of three of Mr. Lee's secretaries for the past several months now, having come under his employ about a year ago after Choi Enterprises turned you away. But magically, a few days afterward, this offer from the office of one Lee Sungjae had arrived in your inbox. When one door closed, as they said, another opened. Whatever guardian angel was looking over you then certainly wasn't looking over you now though.

"Miss Ln?"

You turned around and expected to see Commissioner Kim Namjoon and your co-secretary, Shin Ryujin, but you hadn't expected the two others with them. They stood behind the two aforementioned, both in black domino masks that covered the top halves of their faces. Their suits were skintight, most likely to allow for more mobility, but they also accentuated their starkly muscular figures. The taller one wore a suit of dark blue and black, while the other donned a maroon red and black ensemble. You recognized them, respectively, as Gotham's very own Nightwing and the Red Robin. Vigilantes. What were they doing with Commissioner Kim?

Ryujin bowed her way out, gently taking Mrs. Lee with her. That left you with the others.

"Hello, Miss Ln," Commissioner Kim greeted with a tired, but not unkind, smile. He fished a small notepad out of his coat pocket, ballpoint pen clicking to life. "My name is Commissioner Kim. These two… not sure if you need any introductions."

When you remained silent with only a nod, he continued, "We're here investigating the murder of your former employer, and we were informed that you often handled his familial affairs. We've already spoken with Miss Shin and Mr. Yun, but we wanted to ask where you were last Wednesday night at ten o'clock."

You were very aware that Nightwing had decided to wander about the office, eyes taking in the shelves and the notes and the desk… then there was Red Robin, who's attention was pinned intently on you, arms crossed firmly over his chest. There was something awfully familiar about these two. "Is that an accusation, Commissioner?" You asked, leaning against the edge of the desk.

"It doesn't have to be," he said airily. "Just answer the question, Miss."

"I was at home," you answered, schooling your face into neutrality. "You can ask my employer's wife and my coworkers—I was taking time off to grieve my mother's death."

The shock was not the most stark on the commissioner's face, but on Red Robin's. "She's dead?—" He coughed; even Nightwing had paused his movements. "I mean, I'm sorry for your loss." You didn't recognize the voice, but you suspected it was probably being disguised with a voice modulator.

The commissioner sent him a bewildered look, but turned back to you. "I'm very sorry for your loss, Yn. Truly." He asked with almost a grimace, "Can anyone corroborate your whereabouts? I understand you were most likely home alone, but perhaps a neighbor, a significant other…?"

And there it was again—that shift in energy as both the vigilantes in the room stopped to focus on you.

You shook your head with a tight smile. It probably wouldn't bode well if you revealed to them who your father was or that you paid the Iceberg Lounge a visit that day. You were also a little too preoccupied with survival to have a significant other, and you hadn’t been close enough to a neighbor in years. "No. Just my cats."

There was something so familiar about this Red Robin character, but you couldn't put a finger on it. Or maybe it was the way he was staring at you with such pity (and sympathy) that made you wish he was someone else. Either way, you needed to know why these two vigilantes were put on the case, and what they might have already found out. At the moment, it didn't seem like it would pose a problem, but you thought it wouldn't hurt to be a little more careful.

When you arrived home that night, bones aching as much as your head pulsed, you collapsed on the couch. A few of your cats began to swarm your legs, soft fur tickling the skin exposed when your pant leg lifted. Blue, a very introverted Russian Blue who you managed to make an extrovert when it came to you, plopped himself onto your lap like a warm, vibrating mass. You ran your fingers through his fur to the symphony of someone's purrs (you figured it was Byeol; he was quite vocal).

"Should I invite him to the funeral?" You murmured to Blue in question.

He stared back at you, then silently turned his gaze to a particle of dust floating in the air.

You exhaled back against the couch cushions. "I'll take that as a yes."

In the dead of night—because there was always a dead of night, even for Gotham City—you pulled a dark beanie over your head and the top half of your face. Two holes had been cut and sewn for your eyes to see through, and at the top of the hat, two little triangles sat akin to ears. You recalled the night you had crocheted this on a whim, your mother having done most of the work.

"Blue wants it to have cat ears, mama," you'd told her just as she brought out her tub of yarns.

Your mother's eyes glittered. "Is that right? Well, we'll have to add cat ears then, won't we?"

You thought it would be fitting to find her killer in this. You thought it fit you quite well, at least.

The rest of you was dressed in black, and your hand grazed over Soul's fluffy, white head as you propped open the second floor window. "I'll be home soon," you whispered to the last of your family, then disappeared into the night.

"I can't get why this is so familiar to me," Beomgyu voiced into the echoes of the Batcave, hands braced against the main monitor as he stared at the copy of the note: A Debt Repaid. He had been staring at it for the past week, not consecutively, but it hadn't left the forefront of his mind. Like you.

Soobin trudged over to his brother with a bowl of cereal cradled in his large palm, the other hand spooning the sweet milk and wheat flakes into his mouth. "Mm. Maybe give it a rest for a little, Beom."

"And do what?"

"How do you know Ln Yn?"

Beomgyu whirled around just as Soobin settled into the desk chair, waiting. Beomgyu made a scoffing noise, eyebrows flying up to his shaggy bangs. "Where did that come from?"

Soobin smiled and shrugged. "You tell me." He slurped up a bit more milk before adding, "You're the one who reacted like that in front of everyone when she said she was grieving her mother's death. You sounded shocked that she died."

"Well yeah, wouldn't you be shocked to hear someone else died so close to another's death?"

"Stop trying to bullshit him, Gyu."

Both the brothers looked up at the voice who had just entered the underground space. Yeonjun strolled into the main area in a white tank top and sweats, hair sticking up in different places. He stretched his arms above his head and yawned loud and wide.

Soobin cocked a brow at him. "Nice of you to finally join us, hyung. How'd the date go?"

"Great," Yeonjun quipped. "We're going on a second one soon. I think Felix almost sent me off with a kiss goodnight." He slumped onto the edge of the desk, eyes lazily taking in the images and information displayed on the many monitor screens. "This is our stiff, huh?"

Soobin sent him a look that distinctly said 'No, we're just looking at dead bodies for fun.'

"Yeah," Beomgyu replied. "The note the killer left is so familiar to me though. Have you seen it before?" He knocked his knuckles against the monitor with the note.

Yeonjun's eyes narrowed on the screen, before he leaned back with that bored look renewed on his face. "You're both idiots. It's from that one killing a couple weeks ago."

Beomgyu and Soobin traded looks. "What?"

Their eldest brother leaned down to reach the lowest drawer at the desk. From its depths, he fished out a large bag of chips and grabbed a handful to stuff his face with. "Y'know," he garbled and gestured vaguely with his crumb-dusted fingers. "Beomgyu, you know! You were there with me. It was that one lawyer guy who was found dead in his car beneath the bridge. That same note was taped to his windshield."

"Oh yeah," Beomgyu drawled, while Soobin shook his head with a sigh. The former then knocked his foot against the latter's shin. "Aye! You didn't even know it."

"Yeah, because I wasn't on that case," Soobin fired back. He finished off the rest of his bowl of cereal and set the empty ceramic in his lap before crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes, like his brothers' were lined beneath with heavy eye bags. Someone was supposed to be on patrol around the city right now, but neither of the three brothers were in any rush to get up. "So it's just one person going after these people then."

Yeonjun chewed his bottom lip. "Then we just gotta find the connection."

"Was the lawyer guy from a couple weeks ago Lee Sungjae's attorney?" Soobin asked.

Beomgyu grabbed a hold of the wireless keyboard on the desk and braced it upon his thighs. He pulled up an internet browser and typed in their inquiry. All three brothers made noises of disgruntlement; if the lawyer hadn't been Sungjae's attorney, then how were they connected? It was no secret that 99.9 percent of the population here in Gotham had some sort of… shadow looming over their shoulder. It was almost impossible to get anywhere without the help of a corrupt figure, whether that be a mob boss like the Penguin or loan shark with special strategies to get someone to pay up.

Either way, there would be lots of digging required.

"Let's start with Lee Sungjae and the lawyer's records,'' Soobin decided as he sat up in the chair. "We'll sort through phone records, acquire security footage of their movements, their texts, etcetera."

"I call none of those," Yeonjun said. When his younger brothers scowled at him, he raised both hands in feigned surrender with a giggle. "Fine, fine. You're both lookin' at me like I murdered your favorite puppy."

They remained silent.

"What, too soon?"

The basement headquarters suddenly erupted in a dull siren sound, and Beomgyu was swift to pull up a set of footage on one of the monitors. It displayed a section of the sky, a white spotlight circle cast against a massive, dark gray cumulus cloud with a distinct bat shape in the center—their call to action.

All three men were on their feet in an instant—keyboard and cereal bowl abandoned on the table, capes and utility belts clicked into place.

"Meet you losers there!" Yeonjun hollered as the cave filled with the revving roar of his motorcycle engine like a clap of thunder.

Soobin and Beomgyu hurried over to their respective cycles. "Hey, we're not done talking about Ln Yn!" Soobin called to his younger brother.

Beomgyu flashed him a thin smile. "That's what you think!" And he sped away down the runway.

Soobin chuckled to himself, grinning. Then he revved his engine and launched himself after his brothers.

To be completely honest, you had no idea what you were doing. Actually, that was a lie. You kind of knew what you were doing, but that was leagues away from completely knowing what you were doing until it was muscle memory. Right now though, as you gripped onto the side of the building, fingertips digging into the concrete ledge like a lifeline (because it might as well had been one), you couldn't wait until it became muscle memory.

God, your arms were going to ache tomorrow morning.

"It's worth it, Yn," you muttered to yourself, under your breath, and that was what made you reach up one more time and grasp onto the ledge of the window sill. You had always wondered why buildings like this lacked security cameras, but based on its practically smooth facade, it was no wonder. Only a crazy person would dare scale something like this.

The law firm building was not one of the largest nor one of the dingiest. If it had been some place like Clark & Field, you would have considered other ways to get into the building, but it would probably be through the inside (because scaling a fifty story skyscraper without a net was not on your bucket list). And if the building had been on the dingier side, it would have, frankly, been much easier to find footholds and places to brace. Except for any mold or crumbly parts. That was not fun either.

Or maybe you could classify scaling buildings as just… not fun in general. But the skills and the strength would come with time.

This time, however, was fueled by pure willpower.

But the universe was on your side for once, and the window you clung to gave way and granted you entry. The stupid lock picks had actually worked.

Despite being dead for two weeks, Yang Eunhyuk’s office still looked like its owner was still alive. There were documents left out in the open, all of the furniture had yet to be touched, there was an old (upon further investigation, really old) cup of coffee on the desk, and a two-week-old calendar for the week’s appointments and cases. You peered at the calendar and skimmed its contents, but found nothing terribly noteworthy. You strolled by the bookcase, footsteps light as a cat’s, and glimpsed the titles. There were a lot of convoluted-sounding titles on the shelves, and honestly, you doubted that he even read half of the books there. They were probably just for show when clients came in.

After you had given yourself a tour of the space, you determined that no one had truly cared enough about this man to really clean up for him. The door out into the hallway was locked, and through its frosted glass door, you could make out the distinct yellow police tape crossed over the frame. This was no crime scene, but the police had still had the room locked down… odd.

You figured they didn’t care enough. But maybe this guy had more connections than you were giving him credit for. He had been one of your father’s clients, after all. (Actually, that wasn’t enough to determine whether or not Yang was smart or not. Resorting to your father’s ever-generous solutions was stupid; and you were very well-aware that that made you stupid, too.)

Your father had sent you to this office for something in particular.

“Yang Eunhyuk was an idiot and a half,” your father had told you the day you had come to him. “But he knows how to hide his things when he needs to.” He had carefully relayed all of the necessary information to you as the two of you sat on the couch together to outline your next steps and what exactly he was asking of you. “He owes me a compilation of files and a burner phone.”

When you’d asked what for, there was that gleam in his eyes as if he found the question amusing. “Well, to find out who betrayed us, of course.”

“To find who killed Mom?”

He had nodded at you—waved his hand flippantly. “Yes. That’s the same thing, Yn.”

A burner phone and a compilation of files. Your father had already searched Yang’s personal place of residence, but there had apparently been nothing but “shit." So here you were… sorting through more shit.

You drummed the pads of your fingers on the surface of the desk.

“Where would he hide you, hm?” You murmured to yourself. You tried all of the drawers under the desk—four of the seven came up locked. The top three drawers were all filled with a smorgasbord of knick knacks and junk like a fidget spinner, fidget cube, a package of cigarettes, and even a used gum wrapper. (Gross.) You slipped a lock pick out from your sleeve as you considered the remaining four locked drawers, then realized that Yang Eunhyuk might not have kept your father’s files in the same place as his regular, ol’ case files.

And so, you moved away from the desk.

You figured there were specific places a lawyer would keep their most sensitive files to ensure discretion and privacy. You recalled how your late employer, Lee Sungjae, often had his most precious files stashed away in a place that was so obvious that no one would ever assume any person in the right mind would hide such things. For Sungjae, it had been a picture frame on the wall of his office, the one with him and his entire family pictured. It was cute; but when one peered behind it…

There was only one picture frame in the entire office space. It was small and it housed his law degree. You wondered if it was phony.

You decided to give it a chance and reached for it with a gloved hand.

When you took the frame off the wall, a frown slipped onto your face at the solid wall behind it. Huh. It was worth a—

You stepped backward and inhaled sharply when your leg hit the back of his cheap office chair. You managed to right yourself, but your ears had also perked up at a curious sound. You swiftly replaced the frame on the wall and knelt down by the desk chair and twisted your body to peer beneath it.

The sound you had heard had been a soft swish. It was subtle and not at all loud, but thanks to the empty office and your own hearing, you had picked up on it. It was practically a miracle.

Your heart pounded in excitement as you stuck your hand beneath the chair and felt up the bottom. There—you felt a distinct, padded folder—and there—

Your fingers wrapped around a small device no bigger than the palm of your hand. It must have been attached to the bottom of the chair with some kind of tape, and you gave it a good yank. And behold… in your hand was the alleged burner phone, staring up at you, just begging for you to sneak a peek into its logs. But before you could, you removed the file that had been hidden beneath the chair as well. It was a standard manila folder stuffed to the brim with papers and, you assumed, lots of sensitive information. Your eyes were widening like your smile as you just struck gold.

Not too bad for your first time in a while.

You startled at the sound of a thump.

There was a figure, a shadow, standing on the window sill by the end of the desk. He was familiar to you with his dark hair and domino mask, and his red and black uniform. His cape flowed from just off the precipices of his shoulders and hung around the backs of his knees—imposing and regal but not in the way of any movements he made. The Red Robin had stood before you just earlier in the day at Lee Sungjae’s suburban home. He had been the one with the familiar presence to you, along with his… colleague? You didn’t know his and Nightwing’s association or relationship, but you weren’t about to interact long enough to find out.

“Breaking and entering is illegal, y’know,” the masked vigilante mused, and you could just make out the shadow of his smirk in the darkness. “Even at crime scenes.”

You rose from your spot on the floor, slipping the burner into the holster pocket on the garter around your thigh and tucking the file in the crook of your arm. There wasn’t really a place you could hide the chunky piece of shit. Despite your heart palpitating in your chest, you maintained a cool exterior. He didn’t know who you were, and you expected that he wouldn’t be able to recognize your voice since you had only spoken to him once.

“Nothing done in Gotham is illegal,” you replied to him.

His head cocked to the side, arms folding over his chest. “You’re not wrong about that. But…” He nodded at the file folder. “I really can’t let you leave with that.”

Oh, dear god. You needed an escape plan—and fast.

Nothing was coming to mind; it was just get out get out get out! (Very helpful, as always.)

“I’m sure you can make an exception for me,” you said with a mocking pout. “How’d you even know I was here? I didn’t realize Yang Eunhyuk had a connection to Gotham’s exclusive Bat Boys.”

A scoff from him. “He doesn’t. Your luck just happened to be running out, sweetheart.” He stepped off the window sill and entered the office, stalking toward you with slow, methodical steps because he knew you were cornered. You really should have tried that office door when you had the chance.

As you began backing away, you shook his head and tsked. “C’mon,” he coaxed. “Give me the folder.”

“And I can go?” You wondered how fast you could disappear once you flung yourself out of that window.

He smiled. “If you give me that burner, too, sure.”

Your heart stopped for a millisecond. God damn it.

He must have seen the doubt in your eyes, and that fucking smile of his widened. Something about that was tug-tug-tugging a nerve. He stopped walking toward you as you slowly made a move to set the file down on the floor. “Good girl.”

The file flopped onto the wooden floor.

"Slowly," he drawled, eyes glued to your form as he watched your hand move toward the holster pouch.

All the while, you were counting down in your head.

Before he could blink, you swung a leg out and kicked the file back behind Red Robin and toward the window. His head swerved in that direction, and you launched yourself at him before he could realize his mistake.

You kicked at him, one-two, adrenaline pumping through your veins like a virus. He blocked your blows, just as you swung around and made a grab for his mask.

He caught your wrist; you whirled—it was a high stakes tango you had not been prepared for. But you jabbed your elbow behind you, fist flying up toward his nose. Every move you made was desperate and offensive.

You slipped free and ducked, body curling under his arm, under his cape, until you ended up in the flurry of the dark fabric.

The vigilante knew his own cape though. You gave him that much.

He grabbed the opposite end and arced it over your head, arm coming down to wrap you in it—but you threw yourself out of it, landing a swift blow to his shin. Wouldn't do much except make him curse and loosen his grip slightly.

The file was in sight—oh god, it was right the fuck there.

You made a mad dash for it, leaning down slightly and reaching out with your hand—

"Not so fast, kitty—"

You hit the floor with a curse, palms flat against the wood. His foot had hooked around yours and tripped you, his knee set against your back like his own palm as he held you against the floor.

You felt his breath by your ear. "What's in the file, sweetheart?"

"None of your concern," you gritted out, then throwing your head back until you heard and felt that telltale "fuck!" from Red Robin.

You ignored the throbbing in the back of your skull to fling yourself around and throw off his balance again. Your hand dove into your holster pocket to retrieve the small cylinder of mace, then sprayed it in a final move of desperation, breath and chest heaving.

The man sputtered, hand flying up to his mouth as he stumbled backward and tried to eject the chemical from his body. "Dirty fucking move," he spat as you turned tail and made for the file.

Only—

"Looking for this?"

Two others had joined the party, to your absolute horror. Nightwing stood with the file in his hand, while Red Hood—the vigilante from the bank, and supposedly Choi Yeonjun based on your deductions—was perched up on the window sill with zero care in the world.

Well shit.

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[charlotteking23]

He’s not that bad

Eric Divergent x reader

warning: none

word count: 927

It was late at night, and I could not sleep at all. Only listening to the loud snores and shuffling of the wind outside. Tomorrow was our final fight and rankings for the first stage and I was praying I would make it. After a while, I quietly snuck out and walked around the halls, it was dark, with no light, no sound only the waves crashing near the chasm. Finally, I stopped walking near the training room, I walked in front of the punching bag, punching it as hard as I could, the bag only moving a little. Until I found a warm breath hitting my neck.

"You're doing it wrong" I turned around and was met with cold ocean-blue eyes. Are you stalking me now Coulter? but I got no reply only a burning death stare basically asking me, do I have a death wish. " No, I was walking and found you here in the training room, so why are you in the training room so late at night?" an amusing Eric asks. Well if it was not obvious, I was practicing for my fight tomorrow. After a few seconds, I feel Eric's hands on my body. "you need to create tension in your core because of the size differences between you and the others". I don't know why but all I could think about was his smooth hands touching my body. But after a second he disappeared and left the training room with me wondering what had happened. I punched the bag again causing it to sway much faster. After practicing for a few hours, I decided to head back before anybody saw me.

"WAKEEEE UPPPPP!", screamed four. He was Banging the side of the wall with a pipe. I woke up startled, remembering today was our final fight and what had happened yesterday with Eric. " hey are you ok". "Huh,... oh hey Tris, yeah, I am alright." "OK, you just seemed spaced out lately". Don't worry I am fine. and she left to shower. ' "OK, you just seemed spaced out lately". Don't worry I am fine. and she left to shower.

I was sitting between Christina and Tris, anxiously waiting, biting my nails. Which I know is a bad habit. In my final fight, I was against Drew, which is better than going against Peter. Eric had called me and Drew to ring, Drew had a smug smile on his face, Oh how I wanted to wipe it off his face so badly. Drew tried to hit me first but I was fast enough to duck, an advantage to me being small. We were fighting for god knows how long, both of us not giving up. He hit me in my face causing blood to come but maybe as a defense or for pleasure I hit where the sun didn't shine, he won't be making any babies Damn. I Won my fight Man did it feel good. And Eric even gave me a smile well if you called that a smile but nonetheless a smile.

Right, the final ranking will be posted at the end of dinner, you can leave now, Four said rather eagerly. But I didn't care, I was starving for some chocolate cake.

It was the end of the dinner and I had a good feeling I would at least be in the top 15. I looked on top of the balcony where the rankings would be announced but instead, I found dark blue eyes looking at me, Eric, I whispered to myself. I stood there not breaking eye contact with him until he started to talk.

It is the end of stage one, here are your rankings, if you are not placed in the top 20 then pack your things and leave Dauntless compound. Damn, how can Eric say that with no emotion at all but no matter? I see my name sitting at 9 place which was better than I hope. I left leaving Christina with Will and Tris who already left. I was walking deep in thought happy I made it this far till I bumped into a certain someone, ERIC.

Fuck, Fuck, I am so dead if anyone notices I am missing you will probably find me in the bottom of the chasm by Eric. But instead, he just grunted and mumbled something under his breath, which I couldn't understand. "Initiate, and watch where you are going," with harshness Eric said. "It's your fault, you bumped into me first and I think you owe me an apology", with confidence I replied. "Alright," ALRIGHT that's all he answered, I was praying he wouldn't hurt because of my big mouth but he just replied so plainly. I almost thought for a second he was getting a cold.

it was the initiate's party for completing stage one. I don't know why, but I kept looking for a blue-eyed leader until I saw him. I ignored him pretending as if I did not see him.

Instead, I danced to the music swaying my hips around while dancing I felt a pair of strong hands wrap tightly around my waist, guiding me to dance more. I turn around seeing Eric as I wrap my arms around his neck. We continued dancing with each other no matter how many strange looks we got.

As Eric and I walked out of the party, I realized he was not as bad as we spent the rest of the night together.