#i woke up and chose gooning

[cocoetoile]

heinrix telling diana to look him in the eyes whenever they’re having sex so he can look at literal fire burning in there

[thegrimdog13]

Hey!I loved your last post and idk if your interest but, what if Jeff and Lius roles were reversed in the story?

I’m alway interested in cool ideas! The last one didn’t really follow my au that much but this one follows it a little closely! BtwI love all these creative ideas that have been coming in! Hope you like it!

•Jeff has always been bullied by people and Liu never stood up for him

•Jeff is still an angry person 

•Jeff Liu fought about how Liu never stands up for him. Liu eventually excepts the fact that he hasn’t been and promises Jeff he will.

•The next time Randy and his goons came around their intent was to hurt Jeff. 

•Liu basically lost his cool and beat the fuck out of all of them. I’m my au Liu was 17 so it makes a little more sense for him to beat up Randy(18),Troy(16), and Keith ( 15).

•When he was focusing on Kieth he heard the sound of a knife and turn around as fast as possible.

•Randy was holding a knife and tackled Liu. Basically saying that he would do worse but he rather Liu live with the reminder that he chose to let him live. 

•Randy cut Liu’s face on either side of his cheeks into a smile. 

•If you don’t know the lore with Randy and cutting smiles in my au. Basically he did it to Jeff’s dog when he killed it. Saying he was happy to be away from him.So basically he puts them on the same level as the dog.

•Randy got off of Liu dropping the knife on the ground with a smile.

•Liu is in shock and he feels tears go down his face 

•Randy’s goons get up slowly and Randy tells them to run. So basically Randy and his goons run away.

•Jeff runs over to Liu and they end up having to go to the hospital.

•Days after the incident Liu decides enough is enough. He wants to kill Randy and his goons. But if his parents are still alive they could catch him sneaking out and tell the police about it when Randy is find dead the next day. It made sense to Liu at the time.

•Liu kills his parents and walks towards Jeff’s room opening the door with a sad sigh.

•Liu woke up Jeff but instead of pressing a knife to Jeff he just tells him to get up.

•When Jeff gets up he sees the blood and he’s in shock.

•Liu basically says you hate Randy as much as me work with me and we can kill him together. 

•In my au this happens but reverse but instead of the other person declining he excepts

•Jeff excepts his offer and they both go to Randy’s house killing Randy and Kieth.( they are siblings in my au) They also kill their parents 

•Nina hears what is happening but lets them be.( she is also Randy and Kieth’s sibling in my au)

•When they leave they we’re going to Troy’s house but Jeff is like ehh he didn’t really do anything let’s just leave him. 

•Basically Liu and Jeff hide in the woods. 

•They follow Smile Dog and end up at an abandoned prison. 

• They join Slenderman together.

[dinrelsanddragons]

teeny bit more on D&D verse Lambda. Gets dark owing the the tone of the campaign (lots of horror and similar motifs), so be warned.

Because I didn't offer plentiful context on the 'pantsing a dead vampire to see if he had bits' example:

Context is that this goon was interested in kidnapping the hexblood warlock and also telling the family of dream-eating vampire lords that the dhampir rogue (who was originally one of that family, and now on the run/in hiding from them) was still at large and where he was. They had a fight that the party should've lost. Lambda had to expose her blood (her 'light blood' that has no compare to a vampire, it's that tasty) to help win the fight, which prompted a wisdom saving throw that the vampire failed, so vamp immediately went over to her and started to sluuurrrrrrp her up, knocking her unconscious. The rest of the party finished the job by decapitation. After being revived by potion and investigating his corpse with the rogue's aid, Lambda chose to investigate whether or not vampires kept their bits.

I will add: This was the second time that the spilling of her light blood earned them a decapitated vampire in this manner. They had a bounty for this other dude from that same dream-eater family, from another vampire family. Party was in the final battle against this boss to complete the job so they could get paid. Now, whenever Lambda goes below half health, she is considered 'bloodied,' so dhampirs and vampires have to make a wisdom save to see if they can retain their wits and not go into a frenzy over Lambda's blood. The rogue has yet to fail, willingly or otherwise, but their mark in this encounter certainly did, and started to lick up Lambda's blood from the floor. Warlock was able to speed feed Lambda a potion and misty step away, which woke her up just in time to choke this vampire unconscious with the Shocking Grasp cantrip, then take out a dagger and start cutting his head off (inefficiently due to the size of the blade). Party got paid, and the down payment they received for this bounty came in extreme use– a Cape of the Mountebank, which has been in Lambda's possession since the party received it.

[octalove]

II: Blood and Ghosts

(Batgirl/Red Hood)

Description: Reader tries getting a clue. part one

“Typically, they steer clear of the Village, but that doesn’t appear to be the case as of recent. Oracle found out about an operation out of a Hadley’s Deli there- standard money laundering, but it also could’ve been linked to the shipment of cocaine that we found at the Yacht Basin.”

“Right. So what changed?”

“A better question would be what didn’t?”

A beat. The contrasting silence that followed jarred me from my thoughts as I glanced over and realized that Bruce was prompting me for an answer. Tim looked expectant and inquisitive, but that was sort of his default expression.

“Oh. Sorry. What?” I said apologetically.

“Maroni.” He said simply. Nothing came to mind. He didn’t express verbal disappointment as he turned back to Tim, but I knew it was there.

“Red Hood has been operating out of The Bowery. Maroni and Falcone are stubborn, but they’re losing. He’s pushing them north.”

“So moving to the Village isn’t expansion. It’s desperation.” Tim muttered thoughtfully.

“I believe so.”

“May I be excused?” I asked. Bruce glanced back to me, studying a moment. Scrutinizing every detail; not deciding whether or not to let me leave- rather, deciding why I wanted to. Then, he nodded. Seems he wasn’t in the mood to ask.

I swept up my laptop and phone, and ascended the stairs from the cave to the manor quickly, trying to escape the eyes boring into my back. Only when the cool, lemon-scented air of the manor filled my lungs did I breathe a sigh of relief. Alone. All I needed was few minutes alone. I scaled the marble steps to my room and shut the door.

I hadn’t told anyone that I saw him three nights ago. That I watched him murder a man in retribution for me. My alter ego, anyway. I don’t know why. Maybe because it would mean having to tell them I snuck away. Having to walk through every detail again; sights, sounds, smells. What Red Hood was wearing and what he sounded like, what gun he was holding and how he held it, what prompted him to fire, how many shots and how he acted when he did.

But if ever there was a time to be high-strung and anxious, it was when you were keeping secrets from Batman. And Oracle. And Nightwing. And Red Robin. And Robin. Damian in particular could smell a lie like blood in the water, and he wasn’t too polite to hold your gaze until he was certain you weren’t hiding anything. That, and the art of solidarity was still foreign to him- even if I did tell him in confidence, he would take it right to Bruce. Possibly the police. Maybe a news outlet or two just because it soothed his vindictive nature. I’d been avoiding him.

Evening bled into night, and I was barred from masked business on school nights, so I couldn’t even patrol to ease the anxious energy. Still, that meant less opportunity for Bruce to analyze my musculoskeletal ticks or whatever the hell he did to tell when I was nervous, so I decided it was a worthy trade-off and resigned myself to independent research.

Who the hell was Red Hood, anyway? Half of Gotham was looking for him, the other half was running from him. I opened my laptop.

His debut was The Viper House, a strip club in Little Italy that also functioned as a human trafficking hub when the owner, Renaldo, needed to buy his wife (or handful of mistresses) a new Blue Nile diamond. By the end, the building had to be gutted. There’s only so much crime scene clean-up can do with carpet.

Next came the kingpins. Blowing open a trafficking operation had a short grace period if you didn’t cut out the source. Italian mobsters, the Romani families, the crews that had built empires on drug and sex trade dropped like flies until they found that their numbers dwindled for the first time since Joker finally bit it. The dozens of loyal men on their payroll decided that empty pockets were better than a full grave, and when it came to the business of death, Red Hood was very persuasive. It went on like that for six months; he amassed men, power, weapons, and tech. Most importantly, a potent reputation. This was due in no small part to his creative footwork; he liked to send messages. One file covered an incident where Alphonso Kuznetsov decided to write Gotham’s new player an open letter in the evening column suggesting that if he decided to bring his business to Port Adams, he might find himself in a ‘watery grave’. Kuznetsov was found a week later when a fishing vessel drug an entire coffin from the bottom of the harbor, padlocked and full of water. He was bound, drowned, and gagged with a copy of the very paper that featured his message. Red Hood must have been in touch with his artistic sensibilities; it was all very Shakespearean.

Of course, these were all just words. Rumors and hearsay. All I knew of the Red Hood from my intimate encounter was that he had a quick hand, an incendiary temper, and he didn’t fucking like creeps. All the makings of vigilante, if you chose to see it like that.

I sighed. Two hours and none of my research gave me any indication of why me. Why the hell should Red 57-kill-count Hood care if some goon told me he like the way I looked in my suit? I may has well have been the veiled threats of Kuznetsov’s evening column for all my inconsequence to him.

But it all kept running through my mind. Backwards and forwards. The vitriol in his voice preluding the barbarity of his reprimand. The way he said little Batgirl, like the crime was that I’d been engaged at all. More than the memory, something was telling me to keep digging. Something dragging me back to Crime Alley with the current of the running blood through Little Italy’s gutters.

I had to do something. And if that something wasn’t going to Bruce, then school tomorrow would have to wait.

The morning went along as per usual. I woke up at six, dawned my Gotham Academy uniform, grabbed a muffin and coffee, completed a complicated and well-practiced secret handshake with Tim (that Dick was secretly jealous of), and was out the door at 6:30, keys jingling in Alfred’s hand.

He dropped me off outside the ornate gothic academy, and I waved goodbye as I skipped backward along the cobblestone walkway. Once his black Mercedes was a pinpoint on the horizon, I promptly turned heel from the front doors, heading East toward the Narrows. Catching the subway there would take me as far as the Knight’s Stadium, and from there it was a short distance to the Alley. I wasn’t exactly inconspicuous in my academy uniform- anyone who gave a shit could pretty confidently deduce that school was in session at 8am on a Tuesday, and no student native to the Alley could afford a private education, so I was bound to draw eyes. I hadn’t packed an extra outfit incase Tim or Alfred got suspicious- that was paranoia puppeteering. I wasn’t used to skipping school. I’d have to make due.

Crime Alley in broad daylight was a brand new experience. At night, at least the smoke unfurling from the sewer grates hit the flickering streetlights and offered an unconventional charm. During the day, it was like shedding light on a foul sin. I was starkly out of place, and even the lapdog-sized rats seemed to know it, scurrying back across gritty concrete when I passed by. I looked for familiar things I’d seen the other night- a run-down apartment complex, a gated liquor shop, a meager but menacing corner-store, busy with glaring laymen reluctantly dragging out their wallets for a pack of cigarettes. I caught the eye of a woman sitting on the curb with a paper-bag bottle for company, and she scowled.

Spurned by the rats, and now by the people, I was running out of options. Sticking close to the buildings that perimetered the square, I moved in tandem with the motion of the locals, so as not to draw any eyes by looking lost. It was an unnerving scape; too quiet for my liking, but just empty enough to feel safely underseen. I made my way past familiar landmarks until I finally stood before the warehouse where I’d been.

I listened; no sound from inside. Even henchmen have day jobs. Jimmying the rusty padlock was just a matter of brandishing a bobby-pin from my hair, and the heavy metal door swung open without much resistance. I cautiously picked my way around crates and boxes, unsure of what I was looking for. Clues, maybe. Proof that he was here and dropped a body in my name, amen.

There was a dark, daunting stain on the floor where Hoffman’s body was. A phantom gunshot echoed in my ears, along with a nauseating sound of flat-back weight slapping concrete.

“Ain’t school in session?” I spun on my heel, meeting the red helm of a towering man draped in leather and armor. My mouth went dry. My right foot slipped back into a fighting stance before I remembered I was in cashmere and plaid, not kevlar. Not that I even stood a chance either way; but at least he seemed to harbor good will toward Batgirl. Wordlessly, I took a few steps back until I was standing over the blood and ghosts of Hoffman’s demise.

“P-please. Don’t- don’t hurt me.” I rasped.

I could play the rebellious, morose teenager and come up with something like it was a dare, or I could offer no explanation and simply cry.

Red Hood’s head tipped one way. His hands were empty- for now. Two heavy-looking glocks hung on his waist. I didn’t want to die on top of Hoffman’s blood stain. There was a level of symbolism there I was deeply unprepared to spend my final moments analyzing.

“Lookin’ for something, darlin’?” I swallowed- unable to say you.

“Wh-What do you want?” I asked.

He laughed, but it was humorless. Lacking whatever key component made laughs so appealing. As though the sound rung off the gravestones of uncanny valley before reaching my ears. “I think we’re both asking stupid questions.” He said. I was fucked. He outweighed me by a hundred pounds, and could out-draw me even if I had a weapon. I had no explanation for my being here that suited a civilian, and my phone was in my bag, meaning help was a world away.

But just as soon as he advanced a few paces, he stopped, and gestured to the crimson beneath my feet.

“Enjoy the show the other night?” He asked, before pulling something out of his jacket pocket and twirling it between his fingers with practiced ease. A batarang.

“You forgot somethin’.”

Cold, knife-like fear erupted in my spine, driven to the hilt. He knew. How did he know? What the hell was I supposed to do? My terror must have shown on my face, because he stopped fidgeting.

“It’s okay, babydoll. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“H-how-“

He moved again, slow, lazy strides until he was no more than an inch from me.

“Who are you?” I asked, figuring if I was gonna die, I should at least know that much.

His hands grabbed mine. The leather of his gloves was cool on my skin, but it barely registered for the closeness of him. I stared at the red bat symbol on his chest, jagged and angry looking. I blinked and looked down slowly as he closed my fingers around the cold metal of the batarang.

“Go home, little bird.” It was a cold, seething demand, his voice snagging on the scrambler to make it sound like a low growl.

“Tell Batman when he’s ready to stop sending his toy soldiers,” His hand went under my chin, tilting my head upward. My breath shook as I drew it, hitching, even though the man before me was faceless. Clean, red monochrome, glinting in the light.

“I’m getting impatient.” *

I walked through the manor door in a daze, the cold steel batarang searing my palm.

Bruce and Damian were in the living room, each invested in their own reading material. The grandfather clock ticked his steady tempo, and I inconspicuously adjusted the bag on my shoulder. Bruce had a steaming cup of coffee on the glass side table beside his leather chair.

“How was school?” He asked, not looking up. My paranoia convinced me it sounded rhetorical, but I shrugged anyway.

“Same old.” A glance, to see if my lie had landed.

Damian was the spitting image of his father. He, along with Tim, operated in the wake of being an only child, so he never did care about how I did in school, or much of anything else in my orbit. If at any point he did, he never thought to ask. Father and son looked like a matching set of dolls sitting there, cross-legged, with dark hair and gaunt eyes, both leanly muscular, and habitually poised; a consequence of being from the upper echelon of each of their respective backgrounds.

“Hey, um, are you going out tonight?” I asked.

“I am.”

“Can I come?”

“Are you certain you want to?” He still didn’t look up.

I blinked. “Um… yeah. Why?”

“You’ve been distracted since the last outing.”

Damian visibly tuned in.

“Oh. Sorry. I had a big paper I was worried about for school, but I turned it in today, so I’m good to go.” I threw him a thumbs up, even though he wasn’t looking.

A beat.

“Very well, then. Nine o’clock.”

I nodded, and headed toward the stairs.

“Y/N,” I stopped, and turned around. He was looking at me now, eyes blue and steady.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think you did well?”

“…”

“On the paper.”

I threw him a smile. “The best.”

[hains-mae]

Flowers

(Damian x Reader) Soulmate AU

Rating: T

Ages: Damian and you are 16, everyone’s ages follow after.

Summary: Soulmate AU where the wounds on your soulmate turns into a flower tattoo on your skin, if it heals with no scars the tattoo goes away, if it heals with a scar then the tattoo stays. You are just an ordinary girl, with an ordinary life, so one might think it only makes sense that your soulmate is just as ordinary as you. But that isn’t the case. Especially not when your body is constantly littered with flowers. Some of them fade over time, some stay, but one thing is for certain – your soulmate seems to get hurt. A lot.

Notes: Hey there you guys. Recently I’ve been caught up in a Batman fever, and I can’t do anything about it. I ended up creating a challenge for my friend @mrevaunit42​ which was an “Character x Reader” Soulmate AU. Seriously, it was all in the name of fun.

And then I got caught up in it, perhaps a little too much – and created this. I’ve never written a soulmate au before, though I really wanted to. (Now I have! Yay~) So please forgive my writing since I’m a little rusty, and I hope you enjoy.

Stay safe everyone.

Disclaimer: I do not own DC. If I did, I wouldn’t make it as confusing as it is now.

I woke up to a burning sensation on my lower ribs in the middle of night. Hissing in pain I slowly pushed my feet out of the warm covers and turned on the lamp beside my bed. Pulling up my shirt I assessed the damage.

It was purple lilacs this time, stretched across the middle of my torso going horizontally to my side. I winced as the tattoo completed itself and just as the heat came, a cold chill ran through it and down my spine. Somehow it soothed the burn.

God, another one? I frowned at the beautiful flower and sighed. It worried me that my soulmate was prone to getting hurt. Sometimes the injuries made sense, like when I found them on my knees, I could easily chalk it up to falling and scraping – but injuries like these were more difficult to decipher.

How does someone normal get hurt this way?

They don’t.

“Unless they’re a criminal.” One of my friends stated dryly days ago.

“Or a hero!” Another said quickly.

Needless to say, I wasn’t in a rush to find out. Whoever this person was, I knew from the start that they were trouble.

The next time I woke, it was to the early morning rays that escaped my curtains and played a fiery dance on my eye lids. I groaned and pulled the covers up wishing I could sleep in for a couple more minutes, but I knew I couldn’t.

A few weeks ago my school, Gotham Academy, announced that they were holding their annual science fair at a convention centre as opposed to the regular school gymnasium, because surprisingly enough, Wayne Enterprise offered to fund the event.

It was no secret that Gotham’s economy was hitting below the desired margin. Many people don’t have jobs which resulted in an influx of crime in the past years. And so Wayne Enterprise collaborated with Gotham’s Department of Homeland Security (DHS) to raise awareness and encourage young minds to strive for a better, innovative future. They shouldered the expenses needed and created an international affair, to top it off; Wayne Ent. also offered scholarships to future college goers and internships in all their branches.

Which was why I couldn’t sleep in today. I had project to work on. In line with our team of sponsors, I decided to invent a weapon that could help the GPD when catching criminals. A gun that projects thin plastic case marbles filled with a chemical concoction that erupts into a quick hardening foam upon impact. The foam itself is not toxic, but it works with catching and detaining. It turns as hard as stone but there was another type of compound that I was in the process of creating to counter act it as a measure of safety.

I got up and started my day.

“Good morning sweetheart.” My mom greeted as I entered the kitchen. She smiled warmly at me as she placed a plate of eggs and bacon on the table.

I couldn’t help but return the gesture, walking up to her and placing a kiss on her cheek. “Morning Mom, are you working tonight?”

“I have to, but don’t worry I’ll be leaving something in the fridge for dinner.”

I thanked her and took my plate into the living room. Turning on the T.V., I easily found the news channel and watched the latest reports on Gotham’s activities.

Mom sometimes had to work on weekends just to make ends meet, which was one reason why I was so hard to get that scholarship and hopefully the internship as well. The other reason was…

A family picture caught my eye in the middle of the news and I bit back a sigh. My dad, my mom, and me. We all were smiling at the camera.

Dad was part of the Police force and died during a heist. Reports stated he was running after the criminals and got shot before he could capture them. That was another reason I chose this as my project. Dad always wanted to fight for justice, hopefully this invention could help.

I finished up my breakfast and helped my mom with chores before I slipped into science mode and continued tinkering with the project. The projectiles were complete and I was able to make 3 in total, which I stored in a small box encased with extra padding.

It was around evening after my mom left that I got another burn. I dropped the screwdriver I was holding and bit my lip. Gasping for breath I pulled my sleeve and watched another flower blossom on my forearm.

The pain was gone in an instant and the cold tickled the skin that was branded. I sighed and slowly straightened my poster. This person, after all these injuries, they better not die before I meet them. I grumbled to myself when I realised I was short on supplies. Poor planning on my part.

I grabbed my bag and locked the front door before I headed out to the nearest hardware store, careful to keep my marks hidden from view. I’ve lived in Gotham my whole life, and I knew that standing out, even in the smallest way, would lead into trouble.

The walk to the store was short and uneventful, thankfully. There were only a few customers. I manoeuvred my way between the isles and picked up what I needed. After paying at the counter I hauled my goods and ducked back into the streets. I almost wished I didn’t stop when I heard that woman cry out for help. I was unarmed, unprepared, and every cell in my body screamed at me to walk – no – run away from the scene that was unfolding before my eyes.

But she was helpless. Clad in a trench coat and rain boots, she didn’t look like much but her bag was definitely designer. The thieves in question had a knife pointed at her face. There were 6 of them. All were towering and bulky next to her petite frame. Their menacing stares struck a cold shiver in me and my hand involuntarily clutched the projectiles I was working on in my pocket. I had a feeling it would be safer with me than it would be at home, however this was not how I imagined I’d first be using them.

The woman screamed again and I clenched my palm.

I sucked in some air and got ready to shout at the perpetrators – until I felt the wind rush past my ear.

In a flash someone had swooped into the scene and kicked the man holding the knife to the ground. The sound of blades being drawn stole my attention. It was Robin. He took a stance between the woman and the men.

“Run. Now.” He told the lady.

She whimpered and scrambled up to her feet dashing towards me, towards the entrance of the alley. She zipped past and didn’t stop running till she turned the corner. I should be running too. But my eyes were fixed on the fight that was about to happen.

Robin seemed no older than me. In reality there was no way he could win against 6 huge men. But then again, this was Robin. No normal teenager.

“6 against 1.” He mused, the grip on his katana tightened. “That hardly seems fair.”

The one who held the knife, possibly the leader of the gang, growled thickly. “Get‘im boys.”

They all rushed towards him at the same time, hands in the air and weapons ready. Robin whipped his blade and easily knocked two knives down, the remaining used their strength and threw punches that looked like it would strike anyone straight to next week. The masked boy effortlessly dodged all their hits. Crouching, jumping, twisting, exactly when needed and not a second too late. His movements were precise; a quick jab below the rib striking the kidney with the handle of the sword, a sharp slam of his elbow to the chin, and to close the deal with a blunt blow force to the side of the neck. The goon fell like a tree that’s been cut down.

I gaped in awe.

The others rushed to avenge their fallen comrade, but Robin was quicker and used his blade to disable them. He kicked one of them into the brick wall, a sickening crunch echoed as the goons’ head smashed into it, then a howl of pain when Robin sliced his back. I cringed at the sight of the blood. It was a superficial wound, at least from my vantage point. The cut was deep enough to hurt and draw red, but not enough to kill.

The next lunged himself and grabbed Robin’s wrist, the boy growled and kicked him the face, forcing to free himself. He couldn’t see the other one running towards them from behind, the weapon aiming straight for Robin’s back.

“Robin!” I found my voice and screamed. “Behind you!”

He did a roundhouse kick and slammed the head of the one holding his wrist, then using the momentum back flipped and kicked the one who was behind.

I sighed in relief.

“What are you doing just standing there?!” He shouted at me as he readied himself again. “I said run!”

That got all the men’s attention. The ones that fell got back up and huffed angrily.

“Get the girl!” The leader shouted. “We can use her.” His leer sent bile rushing up my throat.

I squeaked as 3 of them started to chase me. Finally my legs listened and I dashed across the street onto the other pavement.

They were too fast though, their thundering footsteps grew closer towards me. My lungs burned as I tried to inhale some much needed oxygen, physical sports like running really weren’t my thing. I nearly tripped on an uneven tile as a scream rippled out of my throat. I braced myself for impact but it never came. Instead I felt a rush of wind across my face and a lightness below me. The ground was getting further and further away.

I realised I was being carried. Looking up, I was face to face with Red Robin.

“God thing I saw you when I did or you’d be dead meat.” He said dryly as we landed on a roof.

“Th-thank you.” I breathed, trying to gulp in as much needed air as I could. “Robin – he –“ But I didn’t know how to articulate. The adrenaline rush was messing with my head, and I could barely think straight.

Yet Red Robin nodded, understanding. He jumped off the roof and shot his grappling hook. I peered down and saw the fight started to move, from the alley to the side walk. The goons cornered Robin into a store front and were relentless as they threw punch after punch. The other 3 that were chasing me were already fighting Red just below the building that he deposited me on.

I watched in horror as the glass shattered everywhere around them. They weren’t just normal gangs I discerned, they knew how to fight. And unlike the birds and bat, they didn’t mind taking a life.

Clutching the projectiles again in my pocket, I brought them up with trembling hands.

“I hope this works.” I whispered to myself and pulled out my elastic hair tie.

Hooking one of the orbs onto the elastic, I aimed for the goons attacking Robin, and pulled as far as the band could go. Willing my hand to stop shaking, I said a silent prayer and released my hold.

Time seemed to go into slow motion as it flew across the air. I held my breath.

It hit the ground between two goons and burst into a big foamy cloud of vibrant cobalt, instantly seizing the men and solidified their prison as the concoction cooled.

Both fights stopped for a split second, as they watched the chemical reaction, which now looking back was a mistake on all parties.

I gasped and thanked whoever was listening.

The leader roared and pulled a pistol. I felt my throat tighten as the gun set a bullet free.

Robin and I cried out in pain as the bullet dug into him. Tears threatened to roll down my cheek as I clutched my burning shoulder.

A birdarang zipped towards the leader, catching his wrist and making him let go of the weapon. With a grunt, Robin kicked him hard across the chest stealing the perpetrators breath and with a quick turn, smashed his foot onto the mans jaw, cracking it before letting him fall with a loud thud.

The fight continued and Robin easily subdued his last opponent. Then he ran across the street to finish up with Red. Both of them moved in fluid motions like well trained dancers as they fought while protecting each others weak spots. They took down the last 3 goons and tied them up just as the police sirens blared within the distance.

I jumped up from my spot and turned to run but stopped when I saw the two Robins in my path.

“You.” The younger one started. “You were the one who shot the…”

I nodded wordlessly, still feeling the adrenaline coursing through my body. A nasty red splotch caught my attention and I believe they both noticed as I glanced at it. My own hand went up and clutched my shoulder unconsciously, a cold sensation rippled through where the bullet was.

“Oh my god.”

---

to be continued...

Part 2, 3, 4, 5 (end)

[sad-sweet-cowboah]

Rekindled

Summary: After a hard night of drinking with Lenny, Arthur finds himself in an odd but familiar spot. He also meets someone he hadn’t seen in months: you.

Warnings: It’s angsty smut hours here, folks.

A/N: So this is technically an older piece, since I started it last October and have been working on it little by little since. I did post a preview of it last year if anyone remembers!

A path of light crossed over Arthur’s closed eyes, rousing him from a deep sleep. He blinked them open, bleary and heavy, greeted with the unfamiliar ceiling of a cabin.

The sun shone through the light curtains of a window next to him, and he quickly realized he’d been laying in a bed. The leftover tiredness vanished as he jerked up in surprise, only to be cursed with a splitting headache. The room spun, an uncomfortable dizziness that caused his stomach to lurch.

Expelling a small groan, he gingerly rubbed his palm over his face, resting it on his forehead. How much did he drink last night?

Movement caught his eye, the door on the far side of the room opening. He tensed up, soon forgetting about his moment of weakness to grab for his gun – only to realize his belt had been removed.

A figure stepped in, covered in a jacket and a long skirt billowing around their legs. Beautiful hair that flowed elegantly around their face. Hands laden with a bucket. As they turned toward him, Arthur’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Y/N?!”

“Oh good, you’re awake!” you spoke, your voice light in a chime. “’Bout time too, it’s early afternoon.”

Arthur seemed to be flabbergasted by your appearance, mouth hung open slightly as he continued to stare. It’d been months since you’d last seen each other.

His stomach twisted uncomfortably, causing him to wince and double over.

“There’s another bucket next to you.” You’d said nonchalantly, turning away to heave the bucket onto the table. Liquid sloshed loudly within it.

Without looking Arthur grabbed the other bucket, having done just in time as he proceeded to empty the contents of his stomach into it. He retched and heaved uncomfortably, the pain overcoming him until the spasms of his body calmed down. The rancid taste lingered in his mouth, a tinge of alcohol still remaining. He spat into the bucket and placed it back on the ground.

“Where are we?” he rasped, wiping his mouth.

“Cumberland Forest,” you responded without turning to face him. “Little cabin tucked away in the trees.”

“You…you live here?” he asked, pushing the blankets away in an attempt to stand.

“For the time being,” you answered, swiveling around with a tin cup in your hands. “Here.” You walked over to him, pushing on his shoulder.

Arthur towered over you, yet he fell back onto the bed to your gentle pressure. You held the cup out which he took, warily peering into it. Clear water that was cool to the touch filled it halfway. Arthur brought the cup to his lips and took a small sip, swishing it to remove some of the taste on his tongue. He spat it into the bucket once more. “Thanks,” he sighed, placing the cup down. “How’d I…did ya find me or somethin’?”

“Passed out on the side of the road, reeking with alcohol,” you confirmed with a snicker. “Nice to see some things don’t change.”

Arthur ducked his head in shame, sighing out a response. “Yeah…” he shook his head at himself, albeit lightly to not agitate the pounding that refused to leave his head. It’d fallen silent for a long moment, thoughts moving through his mind as he tried to find his next words.

He hadn’t seen you in months; you having up and left the gang without so much as a note of farewell. He woke up one day to find you and your belongings gone and no trace of you at all. It left the others bewildered, some even trying to track you, including Arthur himself. The search lasted for days, however the effort proved to be fruitless as the trail had gone cold.

“Listen, I have to run into Valentine for a bit,” you said, moving away from him to grab a satchel that hung on the wall. “Stay if you want, just don’t think about robbing me. You know damn well I can track you if you do.”

Arthur blinked at your abruptness, watching quietly as you opened the door again, stepping out into the greenery that surrounded the cabin. After a few seconds, the sound of hoofbeats faded into the distance.

Once the door closed, he was surrounded by silence again. He stood up carefully, hit by another wave of dizziness. He leaned on the wall, clutching at his head as a second bout of nausea overcame him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, willing himself not to dry heave.

As the feeling passed, he opened his eyes again. He was in just a simple one room building. He realized with a jolt this was Six Point Cabin, the area that held the O’Driscoll camp which Kieran had helped ambush just days earlier. He didn’t recognize it at first; there had been some cleaning done, a little bit of redecorating here and there. He moved toward a window, peering toward the field that the small massacre occurred. The tents and supplies were all still there, though some items have been moved around. He assumed you were probably looking through the tents and crates for anything useful or valuable.

He couldn’t fathom why you chose this place to stay in, wondering if you’d ever run into any other O’Driscoll goons. So many questions he wanted to ask, and he was tempted to follow you into Valentine. Though after the previous night, it didn’t seem like the best idea. He wondered how Lenny fared after last night, if he’d managed to get back to camp. The last thing Arthur remembered was stumbling away from the law.

In reality, he should try and head back to camp. However, unanswered questions that cycled in his mind rooted him in place. Your departure had caused him more pain than he realized, keeping him up for many nights in lost wonder on where you went and hoping you’d return. Easily one of the most productive members in the gang, you had proven to be a great thief and a formidable fighter. Additionally there was a softness to you, a kind heart that reached out for those in need. He always had to admire you from afar.

He sighed and reached for the water cup, lifting it to his parched lips and taking a swallow. Guess he’ll wait around for your return.

---

An hour passed, and Arthur’s patience didn’t wear. He kept himself busy, letting his strength slowly regain. Some personal items of yours were strewn about, little reminders of your presence that he missed. He’d found his satchel underneath the bed, having some stringy meat once he knew the nausea wouldn’t return. His gun belt, he’d realized, was resting against the bed post. His hat was on top of it.

Upon the fireplace, he’d noticed a framed photo. It was the entire gang, all posing in front of a large carriage. Upon taking the photo, he had been standing close to you, close enough to touch. He remembered that day fondly.

A few more memories stirred up, the feeling of nostalgia touching him in both a pleasant and unpleasant way.

A little more time had passed until the thundering of hooves caught his attention. He tensed, hand automatically hovering over his revolver. A moment later, the door opened to reveal you once again.

He relaxed in an instant, letting out the breath he was holding. As you closed the door, you met his gaze and smiled. “Haven’t left yet huh?”

“Don’t got a horse at the moment.” Arthur answered instantly, which was only partially true to his degree.

“Never stopped you before,” you said with a raised eyebrow. “I know you can easily steal one.”

“You’re right,” Arthur nodded. “But I ain’t leavin’, not til you answer some questions.”

Your smile turned rueful. “Figured as much,” you sighed, placing your satchel on the table. Pulling out a can of beans and some already cooked meat slabs, you continued. “Wanna have some dinner, then?”

Arthur looked at you for a moment, and then shrugged, sitting at the table. The stringy meat hadn’t exactly provided him with much. He waited silently as you prepared two plates, placing one in front of him and the other at your own spot. As you settled into your seat, Arthur’s eyes were on you.

“Alright, ask.”

“Why did ya leave?” he immediately spoke. “’Specially when you didn’t say goodbye to anyone.”

You sighed, casting your gaze down to your plate. You toyed with the beans briefly before spooning some into your mouth, chewing with a thoughtful expression. “Somethin’ didn’t seem right.”

Arthur tilted his head. “What do ya mean by that?”

“I dunno, I kept getting this…feeling,” you explained, your free hand resting over your heart. “A feeling that something bad was gonna happen. I didn’t want to stick around to find out what it was.”

“So you just up n’ left?” Arthur concluded. “Why didn’t ya say anything to anyone?”

“Would any of y’all have believed me?” you countered. When Arthur hesitated, you added, “Didn’t think so.”

“Coulda at least told me,” he mumbled. “At least told me goodbye. I…we tried trackin’ ya for a little while.”

“I thought you would try, so I had to make sure I covered my tracks well,” You explained. “Kept myself moving.”

Arthur solemnly nodded once, momentarily falling silent to eat some of his meal. He wasn’t sure what to say next, trying to process the information that was given. You’d left on a bad feeling. He understood gut feelings, knowing them all too well in a lifestyle such as this. “What caused it?” he finally asked.

“Can’t say for sure,” you replied with a small shake of your head. “But when Micah joined… it just felt like something was different.”

Micah, of course. That headstrong fool causing more problems than not these past few months. “So Micah caused you to leave.”

“Eh, part of it. Racist asshole.” you murmured.

A chuckle passed his lips. “He’s in jail over in Strawberry right now. I’m supposed to go get ‘im, and I’d rather wrestle a damn pack ‘o wolves.”

“Not surprised,” venom dripped from your voice. “But it was…more than just him. I started having nightmares. Bloodshed and bodies, mangled faces of those I cared about…” you swallowed hard, stopping to eat some more. A moment of silence followed as you chewed on the meat. “I came to the conclusion that I didn’t wanna be a part of that, so I left.”

Nightmares. Arthur shook his head in disbelief, leaning back against the chair, folding his arms. “Seems a little silly to run ‘cause of nightmares.”

“I thought so too, until I heard the mess you guys caused in Blackwater.” You pointed out as-a-matter-of-factly.

“You know about that?” he said incredulously.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Who hasn’t? I got into town not too long after you fled. Pinkertons everywhere, interrogating people on the streets. I had to keep myself hidden, managed to sneak out. When I learned what happened, I realized I was right. Something went wrong.”

Arthur sighed, running his hand through his hair. He was hesitant to compare your dream to the awful reality. He reluctantly spoke, “Weren’t just Blackwater neither. We got chased up into the Grizzlies, lost some folk on the way. We managed to get in a better spot, but it ain’t easy gettin’ back on our feet.”

“Only further proving my point,” You added. “I couldn’t bring myself to be a part of that.”

“We’re outlaws, life is always dangerous for us. You knew that when ya joined up.” Arthur argued, stabbing the meat with unnecessary force to cut it.

“Of course I knew that, Arthur,” you retorted with a slight scowl, though melting to a look of sadness. “I wouldn’t have been with Dutch for years if I hadn’t. But honestly…my gut was telling me to get out, and I did.”

He fell silent again, a flame in his chest wanting him to argue more yet nothing but empty words filled his mind. Bickering was something you and him were good at, usually about silly things that resolved on its own within a few minutes. It was only on rare occasions did you two disagree on a bigger matter, resulting in neither of you speaking for a day, and would only speak if he approached you first. You were more stubborn than he was.

Remembering those days brought a bout of woeful sentiments, reminding him all too clearly how much he’d missed you when you left. “I jus’...” he trailed off, rubbing his face before continuing. “Everyone misses you. They still wonder why ya left.”

You pursed your lips, dropping your gaze down to your plate. “I wanted to say something, I truly did. But I know it would have made things worse.”

Your last words set anger in him, bubbling up to the surface. “You leavin’ without a word was worse!” Arthur exclaimed, throwing his hand outward. “You had us all worried, wonderin’ where you were!” his fist fell heavily on the table, shaking the contents on top of it. “Search parties, days of trackin’ worthless! Losin’ sleep thinkin’ I’d never see you again.”

At first you’d seemed unphased by his outburst. However as he finished, your face began to falter. He waited for you to speak, expecting another flimsy reason or excuse to justify your actions.

With a sigh, you said, “I’m sorry, Arthur. I really am. I…” you sniffed, rubbing your eyes briefly. “I really miss you guys too. It…it took me a lot of convincing to even go through with it, and I had to constantly fight myself not to return. You guys are my family and I could never change that. It hurt me much more than you’d think.”

Arthur listened to you, his lips set in a hard line as he studied you. The raw emotion that touched your voice softened his otherwise angered heart. He took a deep breath, shaking his head as if to settle his thoughts right. There was no need to be frustrated; what was done was done. “Maybe you shoulda said somethin’. Maybe Dutch woulda listened. Wouldn’t have lost the people we did.”

“I could have and should have done many things, Arthur,” you said quietly. “But some things are meant to happen regardless. We can’t change what’s intended.”

Those words hit him with more force than he’d thought. Bowing his head, staring at the half-finished food before him. He’d lost his appetite, his heart sinking uncomfortably deep into his guts. He’d wanted answers and now he nearly regretted asking. Maybe he should have left while you were out. He wasn’t sure what answer he’d expected, though his wandering thoughts kept him awake at night those first few weeks of your absence.

There was no doubt you two had been close; both taken under Dutch’s wing at a young age. Years together of running, robbing and riding, those minor arguments and drunken nights around the campfire. Hours of speaking to one another about some nonsense, secrets whispered and kept. Some of the others would joke that you two acted like a married couple, bickering and making up right after, moving in sync and often going on missions together. Arthur would scoff and you would laugh, sometimes making the joke yourself and even going as far as to suggest to do it for real.

Arthur could never tell if you were joking or not, and would brush it off with a half-hearted chuckle. It was an absurd suggestion, wondering who could ever marry him. Yet with your departure, it were as if a piece of him had been taken with you.

He often perceived it as something he’d done wrong, though couldn’t fathom as to why it would be his own fault. You knew about Mary, about Eliza. His luck with women was something left to be desired. Yet you weren’t involved romantically, never gave an inkling of being sweet on one another. His own lack of self-confidence had automatically convinced him he wasn’t one to have any sort of close relation with the opposite sex. Perhaps it was silly to assume he was owed something from you.

He stood up immediately, aggressively pushing himself from the table as he got to his feet. As he turned to grab his things, he heard your voice.

“Arthur?”

“Gotta get goin’,” he responded without looking at you. “Got some things to take care of.”

He heard you sigh, the sound of chair legs scraping against the floor as you stood up. “At least let me walk you to the door.”

Arthur didn’t answer, grabbing his hat and satchel. As he crossed the cabin, you were right behind him, quickly walking ahead to grab the door. You opened it for him, stepping out into the late afternoon light. He could just march out and not look back, but somehow your presence there distracted him. He stopped at the threshold, looking down at you.

Rays of light beamed through the vegetation, touching your face in such a way that your skin glowed. Eyes reflected brightly, highlighting the beauty that graced your finer features. A hint of disappointment hung on your lips as a small frown, and your eyes never left his.

Silent words passed between you two like a bolt of electricity, his nerves tingling as if he were struck himself. You were the epitome of gorgeous; your features having stayed the same regardless of the hardships. More than once your face appeared in his dreams, treading through his mind in the quiet hours of the night. Those suggested ideas of marriage tugged at him on occasion, daring to venture where that would lead.

Sure, he never did believe you, partly due to his previous relationships. He was a cursed man, damned to never be truly satisfied with his life as the powers above teasingly dangled his desires in front of him. Cruel was fate for pulling you away too. Perhaps you were right about how some things were meant to happen.

“Stay with me.” You said. It wasn’t a question nor a suggestion.

Arthur felt his breath hitch.

“Don’t go back, please.” Your voice was low, swimming with raw emotion.

You never pleaded, the slightest hints of it in your tone caught Arthur off guard. He stared at you with contemplation, your words pulling at his heartstrings with more force than intended.

“I…can’t…” he forced himself to say, wringing out the words as if his throat were dry.

Your lips pursed, your steady gaze not breaking from his. “You’re not invincible, ya know. One day…things will change.”

He inhaled, opening his mouth as if to argue, yet no words formed on his lips. A strong mix of emotions raged within him still, a battle of uncertainty that could not be quelled. “Things always change.” He managed to say quietly.

“Not for the better, you know that.” You emphasized.

Of course he knew that, hell, he probably knew that better than anyone. Pain, death, and sadness took the forefront of his life more often than he’d like, yet cutting ties as you did would be much more difficult. He had a family, close bonds that would take effort to break.

Seeing you standing before him, the desperation bright and glassy in your eyes, had him consider it for a brief moment.

He spoke your name, his words trailing off as he watched you step closer, just inches away from him.

“We could be…good…together, Arthur,” you whispered, tilting your head up, your breath wafting gently across his face. “You and I…no more outlaw days, no more running, no more worrying…just…us.”

His heart pounded like a drum against his ribs. Having you this close rendered his head devoid of all thought. Your words echoed in his mind, the very brief consideration driven by something deeper within him.

His mouth opened slightly, though whatever he was going to say was quickly subdued by your lips.

Shock overcame him, stiffening in surprise. You pulled back instantaneously, staring into his eyes with an expectant look.

He stared at you in bewilderment, stirring up a myriad of feelings. Silent questions arose, none of which formed in his mouth. His hands twitched forward without thought, raising one to graze his fingers against your cheek. Cupping it gently, he leaned forward and kissed you properly.

Your lips were soft against his, warm and plump, easily melding against his mouth. His other hand hovered along your lower back, hesitant, yet you stepped forward to welcome his embrace. Bodies touching, his arm rested against you, holding you to him.

It’d been so long since he kissed anyone; he nearly forgot what it felt like. A sweet rush of bliss washed over him, soon forgetting the unease that held the both of you. His hands slinked into your hair, holding you close as his lips moved silently against yours.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, his nerves tingling pleasantly from your touch. It was as if you had fire in your skin, every part of his body responding to the heat that radiated from you. He pulled back for air, breathing heavily as if he’d run a race. Blood rushed, thumping in his ears.

You kept hold of him, a small smile painted on your face. You’d reached up and pulled his hat off. A thousand unspoken words were exchanged through your gazes alone, all of which told one message that he understood.

Stay.

Your hands ran slowly across his shoulders, fingers trickling lightly across the fabric of his shirt. You outlined the muscles of his biceps, trailing along his forearms and finally to his hands. His hands gently entwined with yours, warm and soft against his rough and calloused skin.

You silently pulled him back into the cabin, his feet light as he followed you without protest. Your lips found his again, eliciting such passion behind it that it nearly caught him off guard. His arms took hold of you, pulling you in a tight embrace. Your closeness, the warmth that radiated through your clothes against him, it was all so surreal.

God, has he been holding back for this long? Was this just a dream?

Arthur pulled back an inch, resting his forehead against yours. You felt so real in his arms, against his chest. He uttered your name, barely a whisper that held his vulnerability. The way he longed for you was unlike any other. You were more than just a fellow outlaw to him, more than just family.

Now he knew why you suggested marriage.

And he’d been so afraid of another relationship, he refused to see it for what it was himself.

You sighed his name, your voice like a soft song in his ears.

It hurts to be without you.

He dipped his head down, resting it carefully on your shoulder. Your hands threaded through his hair with soothing strokes. Your scent overwhelmed him, a lovely aroma which fogged his senses. He breathed in slowly, locking you into his memory.

His lips ghosted across the soft skin of your neck, placing a baby kiss along your pulse point. A short, uneven breath rattled from your throat. Lifting his head, he peered at your face. Your eyes were half-lidded, staring at him with an expression he recognized, yet he was in disbelief.

Why me?

Your palms rested on his chest, holding his gaze as your fingers inched toward his exposed skin. You traced his collar bones, your touch light. Moving across the midline of his pectorals, you stopped over his racing heart that leapt from the lightest of grazes.

His skin felt like fire, a trail prickling after your touch. After years of only bath ladies having come in contact with his naked skin, this effect was foreign and familiar simultaneously. He watched as your fingers deftly worked the topmost closed button of his shirt.

 He stiffened automatically, unable to hide the wariness of judgment that crept to the forefront of his mind. You must have recognized his apprehension, moving one hand to cup his cheek. Your face was gentle, offering a look of safety.

You can trust me.

A shuddering breath pushed past his lips. Such intimacy was lost to him long ago, only to be visited in his dreams. He missed it so and was afraid to attempt with another woman. He did trust you, trusted you with his life even. Perhaps it was time to strengthen it even more.

He ducked his head slightly, giving a small nod to allow you to continue. A soft kiss was placed on his cheek. You continued further, easing your way down his buttons, keeping your eyes level with his.

He was nervous, his heart refusing to cease its hammering. His mind incessantly whispered unkind comments, battling actively with his better senses. With each button released, exposing more of his torso, he waited for your reaction of disgust or disinterest. With the last undone, his shirt fell open to reveal his union suit. You hadn’t hesitated to repeat the process, exposing more and more of his torso to you until he was bare from the waist up.

He watched you with held breath as you smoothed your palm against his abdomen, the tips of your fingers trailing gently along the ridges of his muscles. A look of interest appeared across your face, tracing patterns along his skin. To his surprise, you hadn’t offered him any notion of repulsion.

You reached up, taking hold of his shirt and suspenders to peel them from his shoulders. The cool air nipped his skin, though it didn't quell the warmth that slowly spread through him. He closed his eyes from your softness, aware of the way your hands explored him. Just this alone brought a brighter light in the darkness of his inner thoughts, slowly diminishing the skepticism that plagued him.

Your fingers rested on the back of his neck, applying gentle pressure to bring him to you. As your lips met you grasped his hand, placing it gently upon your own shirt.

Hesitant as he was, fingers twitching across the buttons, he longed for more.

Without a pause you guided him with ease, directing him along the line as they parted. The silky fabric of your chemise grazed against his knuckles. He opened his eyes, pulling back to view. Your shirt fell from your shoulders, pooling on the ground around your feet.

Your skirt was soon to follow, the billowing waves of fabric landing elegantly upon the worn wooden floor. Down to nothing but your unmentionables, you placed Arthur’s hands onto your waist. Heat radiated through the thin fabric like a furnace. You inched closer, pressing your body against his. You were so delicate compared to him, even though you presented yourself otherwise.

He wanted to touch you more, to feel your bare skin in his palms. His reluctance fueled by the remaining dregs of apprehension stopped him. He idly tested the fabric between his fingers, unsure whether or not to move forward. Your eyes reflected patience, silently awaiting his decision.

I trust you too.

Releasing a shuddering exhale, Arthur tugged the straps down from your shoulders. Your breasts, perfect and round, were revealed to him as he peeled it away. You aided him further, sliding the entire piece down your waist, falling past your legs to join the rest of your clothes on the floor.

You were completely nude now, standing before him with shameless confidence. He gazed at you up and down while drinking in the lovely sight with careful precision. Lord, you were gorgeous. A Goddess next to such a plain man such as himself. He almost felt shameful to even stand in your presence.

You stepped closer, pressing your body to his as you wrapped your arms around his neck once more. Your breasts rested against his chest which left him breathless. Desire began to pool within him, stirring heat in his very core. He bit his lip with an inability to hinder the ever growing arousal. He held you again, resting his hands just above the curve of your rear. Trailing his fingertips up and down your spine, reveling how good you felt to him.

He soon found the courage to venture further, falling to the lust that took hold of him. Your butt felt heavenly to him, kneading your flesh which produced a quiet moan from you. Standing on your toes, you placed your lips upon his neck, trailing quick kisses along his pulse point and his stubbled chin, leaving no part of his skin untouched.

Your fingers ghosted across his arousal, too prominent to ignore it. You’d make quick work with the buttons, releasing him of his confinements. He felt the last of his clothes fall from him, exposing him in his entirety. He didn’t have time to react nor comprehend, as you’d taken his length in your hand without hesitation. A soft groan elicited from him as you smoothed your hand up and down. He could only stand there, allowing your control to flood him completely.

You quickened your pace, his groans only becoming louder. He could absolutely melt from your touch at this point, having gone so long without the company of anyone but his own. His grip on you tightened in need for more. His knees trembled from your thumb running across the head, and he released a shuddering breath.

And then, you stopped. A protest built in his throat as you stepped back, only to beckon him towards the bed. He followed without question, allowing you to push him to sit on the edge. You straddled him to sit daintily on his lap as you pulled him into a deep, heated kiss. Your hand found his length again, languidly stroking him with a light touch. He moaned into your mouth, tongues batting against one another at a slow pace. He could feel your heat on his legs, accompanied by the slight moisture. Daringly reaching down, he found your center without hesitation.

His fingertip encircled your bud. You shuddered on top of him, eliciting a soft moan of your own that sent a rush of fire through his stomach. His strokes hastened, vainly seeking for more of your pleasure. He tantalizingly stroked you with intent to prolong it. He enjoyed listening to you, knowing that he was eliciting such delectation. You ground into his grasp, pressing your torso to his once again. Your touch had become more feverish against him, ripping your lips from his to express yourself with a high mewl. You’d responded with dragging your thumb underneath his pink head, teasing the sensitive skin. He bucked up into your grip with a deep groan.

His fingers idled at your entrance, marveling at your slick. He slid one finger in as he explored your inner walls, stroking against your heat with slow precision. He’d lost count of the years past that he’d touched someone in such a way, although his memory of them was still as clear as day.

You uttered a gasp, a product of him discovering your spot. He curled his finger teasingly within you, adding another for enhanced effect. Soon you were reduced to a writhing mess on his lap, you gripped his shoulder with your free hand until he felt the sting of your nails.

A soft hiss slid across his tongue. The pain was not bothersome, only adding to the growing flames that resided within him. Though with each passing second, his yearning for you only increased. He wanted you, needed you. Years of missed opportunity leading to this moment.

He stared at your face. Cheeks flushed with a beautiful rosy glow, your lips parted and your eyes unable to focus. Because of him. He brought your attention back, one hand resting upon your cheek as your eyes met. He could get lost in how gorgeous yours were.

You seemed to understand him. Unspoken messages passed across an unseen bridge. Clarity formed on your face as you released him, then wrapped your arms around his neck.

Take me.

He held your hips, waiting patiently as you maneuvered yourself over him. As you sunk down, his eyes kept to yours as you began to seat yourself comfortably, a breathless gasp sliding from his mouth. Your inner walls were so hot, so wet…his grip tightened slightly at the sensation, holding himself not to thrust up into you.

Engulfed to the hilt, your hips canted as you began to rhythmically move against him. The ripples that accompanied it were breathtaking, a deep groan emitting from his chest. He couldn’t help but to move along with you, keeping in sync as you danced atop his lap. Your sweet sounds of pleasure were almost musical, filling his mind abuzz.

Your sight lost focus as you threw your head back, calling out his name in such a melody it made him blush. He was doing this to you. Him and only him. He could get lost in your essence just listening to your voice. His lips attached to your heated skin, beginning to slowly leave his marks on you, along your neck and across your collarbones. Your fingers stroked through his hair. You sighed into his ear, every praise and encouragement laced in your voice that seemed foreign to him but encouraging all the same.

Your fingers had brushed across his jaw, offering slight pressure to pull his head up. He met your lidded gaze, face flushed and mouth slightly parted. He understood your notion, his hands slinking up your back to knot into your hair as he drew you in for another kiss. Mixed sounds drowned out against your tongues with your increased pace. A deep groan vibrated in his chest while he hastened to keep up with you.

His lips parted from yours to catch his breath, taking short huffs before his mouth returned to your body. One hand slid around your torso to your breast. He kneaded it gently in his palm, reveling how soft and warm it felt. His mouth occupied your puckered nipple while his teeth grazed over it. You uttered a whine in response, your entire body trembling on top of him. He gave attention to the rest of your body with his other hand, memorizing every curve and swell. Everything about you felt wonderful. He eventually found his way to your core again, running his fingers along your nub to enhance your pleasure. Your moans only grew from there, your nails leaving their own marks on his shoulders.

You gripped him hard, your voice raising an octave. He knew what it meant as he locked gazes with you and he rubbed you faster, coaxing out your climax. It only took a half a moment before every muscle trembled around him, your walls clenching his length as your release overtook you. His name graced your lips as you pressed your forehead to his, dragging your fingers down his back. He shuddered from your touch, your climax almost sending him over the edge.

You panted out the last waves of your peak as your grip loosened from him. You straightened up to stare at him, appearing absolutely drunk with ecstasy and adoration for him. His heart leapt from the sight. He grabbed your waist and lifted you from him, turning to lay on the bed in one smooth motion.

He towered over you, keeping his gaze even with yours. You smiled up at him, a warm and inviting smile as your legs spread for him. He smiled as well, running his hands down your sides to stop at your hips. He carefully lined himself with your folds and pushed forward. A soft groan emanated as he sheathed himself within you once again. A brief moment of pause to relish the feeling of joining together again, Arthur caressed your face, keeping his gaze steady. Your hand covered his, and he began to thrust.

Watching your face contort to your pleasure underneath him was the best thing he’d ever seen.

His hips rolled in an undulating rhythm against you. Your hands found their way to his hair. Unblinking stares settled deep in his soul, afraid to look away as if he’d lose sight of your beauty permanently.

Time was lost to him from how deeply buried he was. His surroundings vanished, only focused on you and you alone. His own name filling his ears soon became his favorite song, wrapped in a melody of your moans and mewls. He watched as a second orgasm took hold of you, visibly waving through your body to expel from your mouth.

It was the most gorgeous form he’d ever seen you in. He felt his own pleasure heighten from just watching you writhe and arch beneath him. The way your walls squeezed him again, it wouldn’t be much longer until he would release himself. But he didn’t want to end it so soon.

Your legs wrapped around him, trapping him to you. It was as if you understood what was coming next. Arthur inhaled sharply, driving himself as far as he could. The fire was growing too quickly, too powerful for him to prolong –

I want you.

He squeezed his eyes shut as the release took hold of his entire body. Every muscle clenched while his climax washed over him, emptying what felt like his soul deep in your core. He groaned loudly, his hips snapping weakly against yours until it ebbed away, opening his eyes to see you again.

Your lips were parted and your cheeks were still flushed with a rosy tint. Your lustful eyes glinted beautifully in the light of the late afternoon. He brought himself down to crush his mouth to yours, eliciting a deep kiss despite the both of you gasping for air.

Hell, he didn’t even care. Your gentle fingers raked through his hair over and over, moaning sweetly and breathlessly against his tongue. His tired arms trembled beneath his weight, and he parted his lips from yours. Fatigue struck him like a bolt, and he dropped his head to rest within the valley of your breasts. He intended to roll off to your side, except you didn’t seem to mind. He felt your lips press against the crown of his head and caress his cheek, bringing a soft smile to his face.

After a few minutes of silence, the reality of what happened soon caught up with him. It didn’t occur to him how much he missed you until this very moment, and how stupid he was to ignore his own pining. He should have tried harder to find you, hell, he should have taken you to be his own ages ago if he weren’t such a coward. How much time he wasted ignoring the obvious.

Gone for months, only to appear once again under his nose.

His fingers lazily trailed up your side. You were real, right here with him. His hand searched for yours and you obliged, entwining your fingers with his. He never wanted to let you go ever again.

---

Arthur awoke with the soft song of crickets just outside the window. As he blinked his bleary eyes, he didn’t even realize he’d fallen asleep. The full moon shone through the window, brightening the little cabin with its silver glow. He was still on you, his head was still resting upon your chest, and your deep breathing and slow heartbeat indicated you too were out cold. He shifted himself slightly to look at you, observing your features. His own heart raced just seeing you like that, how beautiful you were even in such a vulnerable state.

His gaze shifted around the cabin. Right at that moment he wanted nothing more than to stay in this cabin with you, to live and sleep and wake up every day to see your lovely face. He wanted it all.

His eyes landed on his gun belt. His Cattleman revolver gleamed brightly and the weight of a harsh reality crashed upon him. As much as he wanted it, he had too much of a responsibility to his gang, his family. It wouldn’t be fair to abandon them now, especially since they were all just getting back on their feet.

He released a silent sigh. Placing a kiss upon your skin, he moved to stand. He hadn’t pulled out prior, and the slightly pleasurable sensation overtaking him nearly made him stop. You shifted as he stood, groaning quietly as his movement aroused you.

“Arthur?” you rasped, your voice heavy with sleep.

His heart sank. He turned slowly to face you and spoke, “I have to go.” Every word felt heavy.

You’d fallen silent. He could see the disappointment and sadness shadowed across your face. You sat up and swung your legs over the side to stand before him. Every curve of you accentuated in the moonlight, illuminating you with an ethereal glow. His hands flexed at his sides, forcing himself to keep from grabbing you.

However, you’d reached forward, taking his hands in your own. He didn’t stop you. “I know you do,” You said quietly, pressing your lips to his hands. “I won’t stop you, as much as I want to.”

His breath caught, thinking back to the argument from earlier. How adamant you were about wanting him to stay. “What changed?” he asked.

You released his hands and stepped back. “You’re an outlaw. No one can tell you what to do.” You answered, a ghost of a smile flitting across your lips.

He’d nearly stepped in sync with you. He however was rooted in the spot, actively arguing with his own conscience. He knew it was the right choice, but damn did it have to hurt this bad?

He turned and silently dressed, collecting his things while he felt your eyes on from the opposite side of the cabin. All the while his mind was yelling at him. Screaming. Demanding he’d stay. Desperately hoping you’d make another attempt. He fought it with gritted teeth as he slung his satchel around his neck and strode over to the door. He rested his hand on the knob and hesitated for a split second.

I love you.

It was such a tiny whisper that he thought he might’ve imagined it. He glanced over his shoulder at you, spotting your silhouette in the darkest corner of the cabin.

His heart plummeted and he opened the door, stepping out into the nocturnal wilderness. As he closed the door behind him, he let out a choked sigh.

I love you too.

---

I’m honestly considering on making this one a trilogy. But before I write anything new, I’m going to work on more of My Little Secret as well as And I’ll Succumb To You. I’ve put off that one especially for a little too long.

[supereffectivemoonblast]

Ravnica

Chapter 15: Character Burnout

Hey so uhh... last Ravnica session went really bad.

After the party woke up Shiro, the group rested in preparation for the investigation ahead. With the Medusa's help, the party soon find themselves overhearing the conversation of two goons. These goons seemed to be scheming what torture they could get away with in respect to the hostages. Ash erupts from the shadows and tries to warm them up with some witty banter.

The two goons shoot a FIREBALL. Each. All four party members lose conciousness.

Shiro succumbs to his injuries first. And then he dies.

The goons, who are Izzet, recognise Lavinia as one of their own and manage to stabilise her and then bind her up.

Then Ash succumbs to his injuries, and dies. And then Saffie succumbs to hers, and dies.

.

.

.

Ash and Saffie have been with the party since Session 1 of this campaign, and their souls are still owned by Orzhov until they can pay off their debt. Shiro achieved nothing in the 1 and a half sessions he was present. Pity though, I liked the character concept.

The session itself took about 15 minutes, and a very shaken DM apologised for the encounter going so sour. We chose to use the rest of the night solidifying our next characters, all 3 of which will join Lavinia next session.

[edens-breathless-melodies-moved]

words: 3.8k

pairing: haiba l. x f!reader

category: fluff

warnings: cursing

summary: this isn’t how his night was supposed to go.

he was only meant to pick you up from the frat party as a favor for yaku who was too drunk to get you home himself.

it was not supposed to be him carting your drunk ass through downtown tokyo  instead of getting you home. (but he wasn’t about to complain getting the chance to be near you more.)

______________________________

“ca-li-fornia girls! we’re undeniable!~”

emerald eyes opened blearily, sleepy pupils trying to focus on the dark ceiling of his bedroom as the sound of his phone ringing woke him up.

groaning and rolling to face the side his phone was on, lev’s eyes slipped closed again as he blindly fumbled around on his nightstand for the buzzing device, quickly growing irritated at its incessant ringing.

cursing under his breath as he continued to blindly flail his hand around for the phone, he sighed when he finally felt it under his fingertips, the phone buzzing once more before finally fallen silent.

grasping it tightly, he rolled onto his back before hovering the phone over his face. lev tiredly tapped the screen with his opposite hand, hissing slightly as the brightness from his lock screen momentarily blinded him.

quick to swipe up and lower the brightness, his eyes eventually adjusted and he cursed again under his breath as he took in the five missed calls from ‘yaku💀’ and the time.

“really? it’s 01:45 in the morning,” he grumbled, unlocking his phone and going to the missed calls. he tapped on yaku’s contact and brought the phone to his ear, tiredly raking long fingers through mussed silver hair. “what could he possibly want at 01:45 in the freaking morning…”

in reality, only a handful of seconds passed, maybe even a minute going by as he waited for yaku to answer. but to lev, it felt like hours had crawled along as he listened to the phone ring.

his eyes slipped close again, and he almost fell back asleep until the sound of yaku accepting his call and the sudden blaring of music brought him back into the land of the living.

startled awake, lev brought a hand up again to lazily scratch his cheek, eyes only barely opened.

“yaku-chan, what’s going on…?” he murmured into the phone, eyebrows scrunching together as he barely picked out the sound of yaku speaking over the loud bass of the music and the distant screech of laughter in the background.

‘is he at a club?’ lev wondered as he barely heard yaku explaining that (y/n)) needed to be picked up from wherever they were at.

at the mention of your name, lev sat up straight in his bed, sharp eyes focused as he suddenly found himself very awake.

“why does she need to be picked up? are you guys okay?” he questioned, twisting his body and throwing his comforter off as he stood up and stretched his long limbs, stifling a yawn with the back of his hand.

a snort could be heard from the other line, “yeah, yeah. we’re all fine and dandy here, but I think (y/n) has had just a little too much to drink. i know this isn’t her first frat party she’s been too,”

lev hummed quietly to himself. ‘frat party, not a club.’ though he wasn’t so sure that that was any better of a place to be shitfaced at. “but she kinda went overboard with the jungle juice, and i’m pretty sure kuroo challenging her to see who could handle the most shots wasn’t the best idea.”

lev groaned audibly this time, dragging a hand down his face as he walked out of his room and towards the front door, shuffling his shoes on and slipping a hoodie over his head before grabbing his keys and exiting his apartment.

“why would you let her and kuroo do that if you knew her tolerance was shitty to begin with?” he exclaimed exasperatedly as he remotely unlocked his car and climbed in, shivering slightly at the cold october breeze.

lev had known you since his first year of high school, with him being part of the boy’s volleyball club, and you being their cute second-year manager.

he hadn’t meant to develop a crush on you, you were his manager and senpai, after all. but he couldn’t help but become entranced with the way your (e/c) eyes shined like stars whenever he correctly received or blocked the ball during practice matches.

the two of you eventually grew closer, lev keeping his crush on you a secret in fear of ruining his friendship with you.

that didn’t stop the team from finding out and picking on him whenever they got the chance. and though their teasing was almost unbearable sometimes, that didn’t stop him from falling for you any less.

eventually, you graduated, and a year later so did he. you both wound up going to the same university in yokohama. you had already been there a year before you found out lev was going to be attending there as well. 

although you majored in pharmaceutical science with a minor in liberal arts, you can only imagine the shock on your face when lev had texted you saying he was majoring in marine and mercantile engineering, but if that didn’t work out, apparently his sister alisa has a backup plan for him.

“i know, right?! it’s kinda crazy for me to believe whenever i say it out loud, too!” he laughed as you stared at him in shock over facetime.

“that’s just… wow.” you said in astonishment, not being able to fully wrap your head around the fact that this giant, volleyball obsessed goon would be majoring in engineering of all things. 

“i could’ve sworn you would’ve attempted to go pro, at least…” you muttered more to yourself than anything. you didn’t miss the way lev’s smile drooped at your comment, however, and your face flushed in embarrassment and mortification that you could’ve possibly hurt his feelings. 

“n-not that that means you won’t be good at it! you’ve always had good grades at nekoma, and you’re such a creative kid!” you rambled as you attempted to fix your stupid mistake.

your arms stopped flailing around once you heard his laughter waft from the speaker on your phone, and a small blush crept up your cheeks when you saw his lighthearted smile aimed at you again, cat-like eyes shining brightly.

“i know you meant no harm, (y/n)-chan~. and you know i only got good grades cause you helped me study!” you felt your blush grow darker at the cute lilt in his tone whenever he said your name but grinned right back at him.

“exactly! so don’t get too cocky, punk.”

and while you chose to live in one of the campuses dorms, lev settled for a cozy but modern flat about 10 minutes from the school.

(he didn’t have the heart to tell you that his parents weren’t fond of the school’s dorms and instead opted to tell you that he just enjoyed the freedom of being on his own for once when you complained about not dorming near each other.)

you both had grown so much from the volleyball dweebs you were in high school...

snapping out of his trance at the sound of his phone pinging, he brought it away from his ear as he saw that he had received a text from yaku, who was still on the call.

“here’s the address of the frat we’re at.” yaku slurred slightly from the opposite end. lev let out another sigh as he put the phone in its holder connected to his dash, putting the address into maps. 

another tired sigh escaped his lips as he buckled his seatbelt, seeing that the frat was almost half an hour away, very close to where they all went to high school together.

“okay, okay, i’m on my way. just don’t lose sight of her.” he grumbled as he put the key into the ignition and began backing out of his parking space and turning to leave the development’s parking lot.

another slurred ‘yes sir, i’m 6’5 now! headass,’ rang out from his phone’s speaker before yaku hung up, causing a chuckle to leave lev.

sharp emerald eyes paid attention to the road as he began the drive to downtown tokyo to go pick up the woman he loves, shitfaced out of her mind.

a groan escaped him again as he came to a red light, lightly smacking his forehead against the steering wheel. 

this is going to be a very long night.

_________________________

“kurooo, l-let gooo!” you whined as you struggled to remove kuroo’s iron-grip on the waist of your shirt, flailing around to get him off.

a drunken giggle passed his lips as he tugged you back to sit between him and a very sober and very annoyed kenma, who wrapped an arm around your waist as well to keep you locked to the porch’s last step.

“no can do, (y/n)-chan~” kuroo sang as he tightened his grip on you. a weak ‘yeah!’ can be heard from yaku who was slumped against kenma’s legs, holding onto the old setter for dear life as he tried his best to keep the room from spinning.

“you can’t keep running away every time you get wasted, (n/n)-chan,” kenma murmured as he gently rubbed comforting circles into your side to relax you, eyes never leaving the screen of his phone. it was working too, as you began to lean into his side more and relaxed, a content smile on your liquor scented lips. 

“besides,” he continued, a small smile on his lips as cat-like eyes watched you from the side, ready to gauge your reaction. “yaku has already called lev. he’s on his way to come pick you up.”

your relaxed frame stiffened at the mention of the tall green-eyed male, and both kuroo and kenma tightened their grip on you in case you tried to pull a fast one and make a run for it.

“you did w h a t?!” you screeched, clawing at kenma’s and kuroo’s arms in an attempt to flee the area before lev had a chance to see you completely blasted. both men grunted as they continued to hold you against them, though a small smile and large smirk were on their faces, respectively.

a quiet chuckle was heard from yaku too, and you stopped struggling against your old classmates as you narrowed (e/c) eyes onto the ashy haired man. “you!” you hissed before picking up your leg to kick the ever-loving shit out of the unsuspecting male.

at least, that would’ve happened if your veins weren’t swimming with questionable amounts of jungle juice and eight shots of silver patron.

instead, your foot merely shoved the poor boy off of kenma’s legs, (who totally didn’t sigh in relief) and caused him to flop on his back onto the cold concrete sidewalk that lead to the house.

a whine left yaku’s lips as he pouted at the abuse, but he made no move to get up from his temporary napping spot.

yaku closed his eyes as he hummed, not seeing the way your (s/c) cheeks flared with color when he said, “oh please, why are you mad at me? it’s about time you confessed to the giant, lord knows you both are too dense to do anything on your own.”

the end of his sentence made your eyebrows scrunch together in drunken confusion, and both kenma and kuroo cursed under their breath at yaku’s idiocy.

‘she doesn’t know he likes her back, dumbass!’ both boys were glaring daggers at yaku’s body on the concrete, who paid them no mind.

“w-what do you mean ‘both of us’?” you slurred confusedly, hands coming up to form the quotation marks.

before any of them had a chance to say anything, the sound of a car turning onto the nearly empty street distracted them all, and your heart started beating faster when you recognized the grey honda civic driving up to you guys.

the car parked right in front of you guys, and the passenger’s side window was rolled down, revealing a very tired pair of green eyes with an equally tired smile to match it. 

you swore your heart stopped when those eyes locked with yours, gleaming with amusement and something else that you couldn’t quite put your finger on because, you know, you’re off the fucking chain, right now.

“hey, (y/n)! wanna go for a ride?”

_______________________

a content sigh left your lips as you happily munched on a hashbrown, eyes closed in bliss as you savored the salty delicacy. lev smiled at you softly from across the table, chin resting in his palm as he watched you basically inhale the food.

you guys were currently sitting at an outside a 24/7 mcdonald’s that had recently been built about 15 minutes away from where you used to go to school.

before you guys stumbled upon it, lev was trying his hardest to keep you from getting in trouble or hurting yourself as you drunkenly pulled him along the semi-empty tokyo streets.

even at 2 am, the city never truly slept, so it was to be expected that random people on the streets would giggle or stare at the sight of a small drunk woman dragging around a man two times her height, ignoring his pleads of “slow down, you’ll hurt yourself!”.

“leeev!” you whined, (e/c) eyes shining with exaggerated tears as you puffed your rosy cheeks out. lev gulped as he stared into your orbs, a small blush coloring his pale cheeks.

god, you’re so fucking cute.

“i’m hungry! and you won’t let me stop anywhere!” lev sighed as you pouted, adorably stomping your foot on the ground. “(y/n)-chan,” he sighed. “it would be best to get you home and get some sleep, we both know you’re gonna need it.”

you hmphed, crossing your arms as you raised an eyebrow at him. “since when we’re you so mature?” you challenged him, and a blank look overtook his face.

there was silence between the two of you as you never broke eye contact. finally, a wide grin stretched across his face, and you felt your heart flutter at the genuine expression.

your cheeks heated up even more without the help of the liquor running through your system as you took in his handsome features, those emerald eyes seeming to peer right into your soul.

“you’re absolutely right!” he chortled, and you couldn’t help but laugh with him. lev slung a long arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to his side as he began walking you down the street. 

a small squeak left your lips as you were practically shoved into his side, your right arm automatically coming around to wrap around his waist to steady yourself. 

the blush on your face only burned brighter at the close contact, but thankfully, due to his height and the fact that he was looking straight ahead, he couldn’t see the fire pulsing in your cheeks.

and that’s how you both found yourselves at the mcdonald’s. lev continues to smile fondly at you as you ate, even if you were basically devouring the two bags of hashbrown minis and decimating the orange juice. (He offered to buy the food, much to your chagrin.)

it was only when you wiped your mouth free of the evidence from your massacre meal that you looked up and met his eyes.

shock ran down your spine at the pure, unfiltered look of adoration and love that was in his eyes, and that familiar blush made its home on your face again.

lev must’ve seen your eyes widen, but didn’t connect it to being concerned with him, because a small laugh made its way past his lips as he reached across the table and wiped away a stray piece of hashbrown you must’ve missed from the corner of your mouth.

“i’m gonna guess you’re still hungry?” he teased, hand still hovering by your face. you don’t know what it was, maybe the alcohol still buzzing in your system, or maybe it was the warmth in his eyes that made you feel safe, but you just hummed as you nuzzled your face into his palm, a small smile on your lips as you closed your eyes.

emerald eyes widened as you continued to nuzzle your face into his large palm, lips parting in disbelief as his heart ran amok in his chest.

unable to tear his eyes and hand away from you, lev cautiously ran his thumb over your cheek, and your smile grew as you continued to hum at the soothing gesture.

a small smile of his own crossed his lips and lev settled more into his palm as he continued to stroke your cheek. he wanted this moment to last forever, the sight of your blissful face and the softness of your face in his hands was almost too much for his heart to handle.

when he woke up not even two hours ago to pick your drunk ass up, he never imagined it going like this. If only you knew how much he loved you…

the same thought process was running through your head as you felt like you were floating, the warmth from his hand on your cheek sending you into orbit. it would be an injustice to say that you weren’t head over heels for this big goof.

you’ve liked him since he first stepped foot into the gym for practice in your second year, and you’ve loved him since he cried while crushing you into his chest the day you graduated.

your heart swelled at all the happy memories you’ve made with him, and you wanted him to be in your life for as long as he’d let you. suddenly, a brilliant drunk idea popped into your busing mind, and you nearly slapped yourself at your own genius.

just confess already.

sober you is currently rolling in her grave as you open your eyes and locked gazes with the most perfect man you’ve ever seen across from you.

nothing could’ve prepared lev for the words that left your mouth, but his thumb paused on your cheek as his breath caught in his throat.

“i love you, Lev.” that dopey smile still on your plush lips, a faint pinkness on your cheeks that he was almost certain wasn’t from the alcohol that was almost clean from your system.

“wha-” he didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before you cut him off, continuing.

“i’ve liked you since you stumbled into practice one day demanding to be placed on the team,” you giggled, pressing your face further into his frozen hand. “and i’ve loved you since you ruined my makeup at my graduation when you bawled like a baby and refused to let me go.”

another giggle left your lips and lev flushed at the embarrassing memory and looked away to the side, trying not to remember the scolding he got from your mother who had yet to take photos.

“i know i’m not in the best state of mind right now, and i know you might not feel the same about me cause why would you?”

lev whipped his head back to look at you again, shocked that you would say that. his heart throbbed as he saw the sad smile on your face and the tight look on your eyes. why would you ever-

“because i know there are better people out there for you that could make you a million times happier than me, t-that could fit your personality better than i ever could,” tears began forming in your eyes as your lip trembled, but you refused to let them fall.

“but i just wanted to get this off my chest and tell you that i love you so much it hurts, even though i know you don’t love me ba-”

your words never finished because before you knew it, warm, slightly chapped lips were pressed against yours, and a familiar warm hand left your cheek and made its way to the back of your neck to push you more into the kiss.

shocked, you didn’t have time to kiss back before he pulled away, wide eyes staring into sharp emerald, your tears slipping slowly down your cheeks though you didn’t cry.

lev continued to lean across the table as he cupped both of your cold cheeks in his hands, thumbs brushing your skin soothingly as he stared into your eyes, determination shining through them.

“there is no one, and i mean no one, who could possibly compare to you, (y/n).” he declared with such confidence that you couldn’t help but nod dumbly. 

“i’ve crushed on you since the first day of practice, and when the team found out they gave me hell every day for it, but i couldn’t bring myself to confess because i didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

the sheepish smile that spread across his face as he continued to look into your eyes made the love in his green orbs so much more tangible it made your heart stutter. “hearing that you love me back after all these years is such a relief, i feel like i could die.”

a small snort made its way past your lips, and lev couldn’t help but chuckle with you.

“please don’t think even for a second that someone could complete me more than you. i’d rather kill myself than chose someone other than you.”

you couldn’t stop yourself from frowning before reaching up and smacking him lightly upside his head, a whine leaving his lips as he pouted at you.

“don’t say stupid shit like that!” you scolded as he brought his face closer to yours. your heart began beating erratically as his face neared yours again, his lips almost brushing yours as his words were whispered against your flesh. “can’t help it if it’s true.”

when his lips pressed against yours again, you were ready this time. you kissed him back in earnest, desperately trying to pour all these years worth of restrained love into it, to make up for the lost time. 

lev responds with the same enthusiasm, his left hand trailing down your side before squeezing into your soft waist, startling a gasp out of you.

quickly, his tongue darted into your mouth before tangling with yours. you both fought for dominance, tongues thrashing and slidding against one another as you simply took in the taste of each other.

 the need for air became too much and you separated, panting as you tried to regain your breath. lev fell back into his seat as he panted, his eyes never leaving yours.

you both sat there for a minute, trying to regain your bearings. once your breaths evened out, and the color of your cheeks returned to normal, you both busted out laughing as he reached across to intertwine your fingers together, your hand engulfed by his.

“so…” he began, nonchalantly running his thumb over your knuckles as he rested his cheek in his palm again, eyes twinkling in the city lights.

you laughed before mirroring his pose, an impish smile on your lips as you stared at this devastatingly gorgeous man you now got to call yours. “so…” you parroted back.

“together forever?” 

a chuckle.

“together forever.”

[black-streak]

Waiting for the Worms - In the Flesh?

Part 14

Happy New Decade present. Soo this part got split up as well since I got really long winded on some parts and now this is almost 3k and it was getting ridiculous. No warnings that I can think of here?

CLOSED list of people who deserve good things: @northernbluetongue @thethirdwheelfriend @shizukiryuu @theatreandcomicfreak @michellemagic @karategirl119 @moonlightstar64 @my-name-is-michell @mystery-5-5 @zalladane @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @miraculousdisapointment @dorkus-minimus @jardimazul @allthebooksandcrannies @g-arya @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @persephonescat @mycupisbroken @luciferge @18-fandoms-unite-08 @dawnwave16 @alwaysreblogneverpost @kris-pines04 @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @weird-pale-blonde-person @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @kokotaru @naclychilli @slytherinhquinn @clumsy-owl-4178 @ladybug-182 @darkthunder1589 @evil-elf16 @dast218 @lysslovsanime @emilytopaz @naoryllis @iloontjeboontje @thepeacetea @danielslilangel @finallyaniguana @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @vixen-uchiha @yuulxd @bleeding-heart-romantic @magic-inthe-stars @st0rmy-w1th1n

~---~

Falling back into Marinette's body felt surprisingly gentle. It offered a sense of nostalgia from back when they use to settle in for switches back before… Well, before.

Lifting his head, Jason realized he was leaned into Marc and surrounded by the entire group all watching him wearily in a semi-circle as though to keep him from running. He had to wonder if that's what she'd been in the middle of when they swapped back. Preparing to run to him the same way he planned to hunt with Damian for her.

"What happened?" His voice came out rough and harsh around the French, having switched to English when speaking to the kid.

"Mari? Oh thank god you're back!" Chloe exasperated, moving closer to his side as Juleka spoke up.

"I thought Kagami said you lost your soulmate, but that was them, wasn't it? They're here then?"

"Did you want to find them? We can help, did you find anything out from where they were?" Marc asked next, keeping some distance.

"Horrible timing if you ask me. Must've freaked out, considering they got launched into a rogue's attack. Honestly, I can't say I blame them for taking off the way they did, or panicking when we essentially cornered them," Kagami went next.

"Ran off? Panicked? You cornered them?" Jason spoke in an almost frantic rush, "What the fuck happened?"

"Fear gas, apparently. Took us all out into lala land. Woke up to a bunch of masked guys laying all over the place. No one died, but it was a bloodbath," Juleka offered a dark smile at that, "You were gone though. Nowhere to be found, so we ran out the back door and started calling for you."

"Only when we found you, you shoved me up into a wall and started speaking in something that definitely wasn't a language you knew," Marc pursed their lips.

"Whoever they are, they stood there in a daze and suddenly tried to bolt away. Marc yanked them back and here we are. Not surprised, we are pretty intimidating," Chloe huffed, tossing her hair.

"She wasn't intimidated."

"Why wouldn't she be? Bunch of overly strong strangers crowding her in speaking in a language she doesn't understand? I'm surprised she didn't fight back more now that I think on it," Kagami gave a thoughtful hum, picking up on the pronoun use immediately and adjusting accordingly.

"She understands French just fine. It's her first language after all. English is her second. And she wasn't running away from you."

"Well then, miss know-it-all, why was she running? In a direction that was decidedly away from us," sarcasm thickly layered Chloe's tone at that.

"There's a kid in her apartment. He was shoving me out the door to go find her. She probably wanted to get back to him to make sure he didn't freak out," Jason explained, not really thinking his words through.

"Woah, what? She's got a kid? How much older than you is she?" Marc piped up.

"No, God no, not her kid, like, like a little brother or something. It's complicated. Point is, she probably felt desperate to get back to him. She wasn't intimidated by you four, hell she probably took down Scarecrow and his goons herself. Fuck, I need to find her." He rattled on at this point.

"Mari, what's going on?" Kagami finally moved closer, grabbing his hand and tilting to look him in the eye.

That's when it truly hit him. They didn't know. He never told them the truth and had assumed he never would. Had assumed his soulmate was gone forever and this particular omission would never come to light. Glancing down to where Tikki peered out from his jacket, he saw the little goddess give a solemn nod and look towards a nearby fire escape to direct him. Looking back at the people gathered around him, people who had laid their trust in him for years. Who stuck by his side all this time, never knowing the truth, looking at him with concerned eyes, he took a deep breath and prepared himself to lose them all.

"Come on, I can't have this conversation here," he gestured them forward and led the way up to the rooftops where he peered out in all directions to be sure they were alone, despite knowing the aftereffects of the miraculi made all of their senses too strong to possibly be caught unaware by a non-holder. Taking a seat on the roof edge, foot propped up against the brick and arms folded, he waited for them to gather round and settle in, either on the ledge beside him or against random pieces left up there, before he began.

"I know she understood you. She wasn't afraid or intimidated or any of those things. Wouldn't make sense for her to be. Honestly, she knows more than I do. I have no idea how she's alive. Considering she died for me three years ago."

He was met with confused looks, some more critical than others, but no one interrupted. Letting out a sigh, he decided he might as well start from the beginning.

"We switched often when we were young, but we learned to act like each other. She didn't want anyone to worry and later on, I couldn't afford for us to not switch flawlessly. No one could tell when or if we switched, though you were all aware I had a soulmate. We both lived dangerous lives. We knew the risks. Knew the consequences. We switched in the middle of her morning class three years ago, a week after her fourteenth birthday. I jolted in her seat and had a panic attack. Only a moment before, I had been held captive by the Joker. I tried to switch back, but she wouldn't let me. She held my body hostage. We'd done that before, you know. Taken an injury for the other and held on until it healed up. Been sick for one another. It wasn't that surprising that she wouldn't let me back in. And the tug calmed down, ao I assumed she was fine and going to heal up and we would switch back. Fucking stupid of me. It took a week before I realized something was wrong."

Juleka stepped in here, quiet but sure, "You're not Marinette. Are you?"

Clenching his fist, he shook his head.

"Marinette died, didn't she? She's dead?" She asked.

"Only she isn't, otherwise you wouldn't have switched today. It makes sense why you're so sure then, she would have no reason to be afraid of us," Kagami interjected before he could respond.

"I thought it was you recognizing me when you loosened your grip, but it was actually her realizing what happened, wasn't it?" Marc offered up.

"That's all good and well, but it begs the question. Why didn't you tell us?" Chloe turned towards him, slight betrayal pushing through.

Jason went quiet as they all turned to wait for his answer. How do you explain that? That the depression and guilt became too much? That you couldn't handle being treated as an outcast and stranger by the people closest to her. That you couldn't look them in the eye and tell them it was your fault that she was gone?

Tikki took this moment to come out.

"I knew. Plagg and all the other kwamis as well. He chose not to tell you. But if he hadn't, we would've stopped him ourselves. Even if he wanted to tell you, we wouldn't have allowed it."

"Why?" Kagami narrowed her eyes, flicking her gaze between her and Plagg, who had just now come out of hiding.

"At the time, we were facing an emotional terrorist. It was bad enough he could've been compromised at any given moment, was better suited to me, and had to deal with Chat all the damn time. It'd be idiotic to allow him to emotional screw all of you up. What a mess that would be," Plagg growled, looking grouchy and put out, despite a slight joy hiding in the glint of his eyes, "She's really alive?"

Tikki nodded, moving over to pull the other god into a nuzzle, "I felt it. It's definitely her."

"And after Hawkmoth was defeated?" Marc this time.

"It'd been around two years by that point. And all of us were releasing a lot of pent up anger. How well would that have gone over without the knowledge that she's alive?" Juleka cut in, saving him from having to explain.

All four of them looked to each other, having a silent group conversation, one he was left out of for once. Seemingly coming to a decision, they turned to him once more.

"So what's your name then?" Chloe demanded.

Eyebrows pinching in a weary, guarded expression, he slowly answered, "Jason. My name is Jason."

"Well then Jason, it's good to finally know who we've gotten so close to all this time," she teased.

"You're," he struggled for the word, "okay with this?"

"She's alive. Has been for who knows how long. We've worked by your side for three years now. We know you even if you weren't who we thought. Honestly, this explains a lot about some of the personality changes recently." Kagami shrugged.

"There's no use in getting upset over it now. It wouldn't help us to move forward," Marc added.

"Sure, we're hurt and annoyed and put off, but we get it. It makes sense and we're not going to hold it against you. And you heard the literal gods. You wouldn't have been able to tell us if you wanted," Chloe continued on.

Juleka nudged his side, pulling him from his shock and awe, "You know where to find her? I think I'd like to meet this new Mari."

"Y-yeah. I know where she is."

"Lead the way then," Kagami nudged him on. 

And with a small, shaky smile, taken off guard by their response, he led them back off the roofs and through the streets of Gotham towards her home.

…

Finding the place didn't take long, though he hesitated at the front door to the apartment, a shock of fear and uncertainty pulsing through for what was to come. With a nudge from behind, he knocked thrice and moved away.

After a moment, the door opened two inches and Damian peered up at him, assessing the situation and closing it an inch.

"Who are you?" 

"It's Jason," he breathed out.

The kid glared as he glared at the others behind Jason and turned ever so slightly to the side, switching effortlessly to a language he couldn't understand. A gruff response returned it and suddenly the door closed further only to open up.

"That's the same speech pattern from before!" Marc whispered excitedly.

The open floor plan of the kitchen and living room gave an open view of the dark haired figure sitting on the couch facing away from them. At his confused look, Damian spoke up.

"You need to sit down before the two of you speak. I assume you know why. You four will wait here by the door until addressed."

"Excuse me?!" Chloe gave an indignant screech.

The person on the couch tensed either and Damian growled lowly.

"We do this on our terms or you will be removed forcefully. If you're lucky, it'll be by my hand."

"Damian," the figure called, still facing away but letting off an ominous aura, as though they are aware of everything behind them without needing to see.

Damian glared and stayed in the doorway until Kagami gripped Chloe's hand and nodded their agreement.  The kid gave a huff and moved so Jason could pass. He would've just past him when he started acting up, but Jason knew better for now. Damian was closer to Marinette than any of them were and any cue from him that they were making him uncomfortable or anxious and she'd shove them out in a heartbeat. Well, the rest of them. He's not sure on himself.

Moving slowly, he moved around the far end of the couch and sat down beside her, calming himself. He could see his old body in the corner of his eye, larger and taller and way further built than it'd been the last time he saw it. A white tuft of hair curled in the front. The eyes seemed to have more green from what he could make out. His body looked very much alive. Although he was sure there were far more scars than three years ago. That was okay, hopefully she could forgive him for the scars added to her own body.

He could tell she was viewing him as well. Seeing her body as it is now, at seventeen years old and put through its own hardships and training. It felt very surreal to be sitting next to their own body, feeling like a stranger to it. No longer knowing how it would feel or react or how it moved. It was even more surreal to be sitting next to each other. Knowing that after all this time and everything they'd been through, this would be their first meeting. 

In the next minute, they would greet each other and the bond would solidify. They would either get locked in each other's body or be violently thrown back for what could very well be the last time. They couldn't know for sure which body they would settle more permanently into until they made that step though. Jason could feel the bond strengthening and vibrating between the two like a live wire, but he waited nevertheless.  This was under her terms even if he did feel like he deserved an explanation. He knew she wouldn't keep him in the dark for long, so he waited.

With a soft, almost inaudible sigh, she turned towards him at last and he mirrored her movements, meeting eyes for the first time.

Within a fraction of a second, a crackle of electricity bolted between them and they found themselves looking at the body they occupied moments before with a jolt. This time without any blackouts or confusion or yank on either of their parts. Both were glad to be sitting however as the shock wore off. As he looked at the small woman he once occupied the body of, he watched a soft smile grow on the surprisingly delicate features. How had he never noticed how she looked? He had seen that face nearly everyday for three years whether he avoided looking in a mirror or not and yet he never saw that glow to her eyes. Saw the sweetness to her smile, even when miniscule and sad. Never saw the curve of her jawline and the way her hair framed her face perfectly. How could he not notice how beautiful his soulmate was? He was in awe and he was surprised to see it reflected back at him from where he suddenly found himself looking down at her. They had moved closer as though on instinct. Reaching forward, she laced her fingers with his already partially outstretched hand and softened further as a warmth spread from their point of connection. Opening her soft pink lips, she spoke in a soft, melodic tone, one he could never manage in his time with her voice.

"Hello Jason."

"Marinette," he breathed out the name like a prayer.

Tears sprung into her eyes and with a soft laugh that doubled as a sob, she launched herself towards him, wrapping him in a tight hug and pressing her face into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Jason. You must be so confused and upset and angry with me and I'm so sorry you had to find out like this," she whispered soft enough he was sure even the trained and animalistic hearing in the room wouldn't catch it. Tightening his grip, he curled himself over her, unused to his new size, but taking full advantage to engulf her into his chest in a protective manner.

"It's okay. I. I would've done the same for you," he admitted.

Suddenly a small figure appeared at his side, tugging on his sleeve. Turning to look, Damian stood there, wide eyed and shaking ever so slightly, staring at Marinette.

"What's happening? Why is she crying? What'd you do to her, Jason?" The boy shot him an accusing look. Marinette must have warned him that upon meeting, she would possibly return to her old body and was able to spot the change when it occurred.

"She's just a little overwhelmed kid, relax."

"She's never overwhelmed. Marinette doesn't cry, what did you do to her?" he lashed out once more, expression growing in anger, but also fear.

She chose this moment to pull back, untangling a limb and reaching out for the kid.

"It's okay Dami, he didn't do anything wrong. I never meant to scare you," she soothed, her voice immediately smoothing out and the watery texture to her eyes retracting as if on command. Damian's shoulders came down from their hunched state as he eased forward into her grip, still darting his eyes in Jason's direction as he was drawn towards them.

Jason felt annoyance at her forcing her emotions back into a bottle for the kid but couldn't really say anything without being a hypocrite what with how he avoided the topic like the plague with the others. 

Oh shit, the others. Turning slightly, he caught sight of their bug eyed expressions, taking in the scene before them. Tapping on the back of her hand with the fingers still intertwined with hers, he caught her attention and felt as she steeled herself. Lifting her gaze towards them, demeanor calm and assessing, she looked over the group still in the entrance way. 

"You can come over now."

[duhragonball]

Battle Tendency Liveblog: JJBA Ch. 94-98

This is the first part of the “Joseph vs. Wammu” arc. 

Is it “Whammu” or “Wammu”?    I just looked it up and you drop the “h” I guess.

Here’s some background on the mansion Kars has been using as a base.    I get the impression that it’s a real building in St. Moritz, Switzerland, which leads me to imagine Hirohiko Araki visiting Switzerland in the 80′s and being inspired by the sights.    Then again, I’m not even sure this is a real building.

Messina’s injured and Caesar’s dead, so it’s down to just Joseph and Lisa.  They want to track down Wammu before he heals up from the Caesar fight, but instead they run into some new asshole named “Wired Beck.”   I always assumed he was named after the Beck who did the song “Loser” in the 90′s, but no, it was Jeff Beck, who made the album “Wired”.   This led me to wonder what the other Beck’s first name is, and it turns out that is his first name.  His full name is “Beck David Hansen”. 

It’s been like... 28 days?  Since The Pillar Men spared Joseph in Rome, and while he and Caesar were training, the Pillar Men have also been busy creating vampires with the Stone Mask.  Wired Beck was a fugitive murderer before they got ahold of him. 

Joseph is all set to fight the guy, but Lisa steps in and kills him instead, doing one of those awesome “I killed you so fast that you don’t even know what hit you” attacks.   Joseph is amazed and somewhat surprised by her fighting skills, which I don’t understand because he’s been training under her for three weeks.   Like, Beck didn’t take Lisa seriously either, but he just met the lady, so I get that.  

And when they finally find Wammu, he praises Lisa Lisa for noticing that there’s a lot of other people in the room with them.   But he still adds “-for a woman!” to his assessment.   You’d think a 12,000 year old Pillar Man, who thinks his kind is superior to humans, would rise above this sort of sexism.   Or maybe I’ve got it backwards, and it’s exactly because he’s a 12,000 year old supremacist that Wammu’s attitude is so backward.

Anyway, Kars is here too, and so are like a hundred vampires.   Like Wired Beck, they’re all loyal minions of Kars and Wammu, just hanging off the ceiling and waiting for orders.   Joseph and Lisa could kill a few vampires without any trouble, as we’ve just seen, but this is just too many.   They’re trapped and they know it.   

To Joseph’s credit, he tries to set up a string to trap all of them at once, but there’s too many eyes watching.   Wammu asks Kars to let him fight Joseph one-on-one, but Kars is done with that shit.  He just wants the Red Stone of Aja, and he sees no reason to wait around.   But then Lisa tells him that she has the Stone in a secret location, and if she or Joseph don’t check in with it by a prearranged time, a bomb will go off to destroy it.  It’s a bluff, and Kars knows it’s a bluff, but he’s too obsessed with the Stone to take the risk.  

There’s a lot of shots of Lisa Lisa acting cool in this part of the story, probably because we’re running out of other characters.    I preferred the anime Lisa Lisa to the manga design, because I liked how she looks like the cover art to Duran Duran’s Rio “album”.   Compared to that, the manga Lisa looks a bit... understated.   But I’ve come to appreciate that understated look.   Joseph uses his boisterous personality to help draw attention away from his tricks.    But while he’s making a scene, Lisa Lisa just adopts this stone cold poker face and dares anyone to call her bet.  She knows how badly Kars wants the stone, and she knows that Kars understands how badly she wants to keep it from him.  Why should she be bluffing about this?   Leaving the stone in such a situation sounds like a smart play.   Kars thinks she’s just being desperate, except she doesn’t look desperate, does she?

Lisa proposes a wager to break the standoff: She and Joseph will fight Kars and Wammu for control of the Red Stone of Aja.  Nice and simple.   Kars accepts, not so much because he accepts her bomb story, but because it gives them a chance to avenge Esidisi.    He asks Wammu to chose a battleground, then sends Joseph to fetch the Stone while they keep Lisa as a hostage.

Wammu’s choice is a place called “Skeleton Heel Stone”.   If I understand him correctly, it was something like a Swiss answer to Stonehenge, but later on it became a gladiatorial arena.

Joseph heads back to St. Moritz to get the stone, and carries Messina back with him.  Okay, so about Messina.   Wammu lopped off his arm outside the mansion, but when Caesar entered the mansion to chase after Wammu, he found Messina lying inside, like someone had carried him in.  So how did that happen?  I can only guess Messina brought himself indoors, but that doesn’t sound like something he would do, since he knew the mansion was enemy ground.

Back at the hotel, Joseph finds the Red Stone of Aja in Lisa’s luggage, but he also discovers an old photo from 1889.   There’s Speedwagon, his grandmother Erina Joestar, and... Straizo?   Holding a baby?!    Of course, anyone who knows Phantom Blood knows that this photo represents the all the survivors from the Part 1 cast.   The baby is the same one Erina rescued before Jonathan sank the ship to stop Dio.   But Joseph has no idea about any of that.   He had heard of Straizo before their fight in New York, but he didn’t know much.

Here’s a nice shot of Skeleton Heel Stone.    It’s supposed to be near the foot of Piz Bernina, along the Italian/Swiss border.  

Joseph arrives with the Stone, and holds up a match to it to demonstrate it’s amplification powers.   Satisfied that it’s the genuine article, Kars agrees to proceed with their contest.

In the meantime, Lisa deduces that Joseph saw the photo in her suitcase, and explains that she was the baby in the photo.  Erina saved her from the sinking ship, but since she was pregnant with Joseph’s father, she entrusted Lisa’s care to Straizo.  That’s how she learned the Ripple and came into possession of the Red Stone of Aja.  Joseph is more confused that Lisa looks as young as she does when she must be fifty years old.

And once again, Joseph finds himself empathizing with others.   He had always seen Lisa Lisa as a cold, hardnosed instructor, but now he’s imagining how difficult Straizo’s betrayal must have been for her.  

Never mind that shit!  Here come vampire horses!   Joseph asks the same thing we’re all wondering: What the Fuck?   It’s actually quite simple, really.  To prepare for this event, the Pillar Men used the Stone Masks on some horses.   The vampire goons can barely control them.

What I want to know is where Kars found all these silly Roman soldier uniforms for all of these guys.   Like I said before, it’s been about a month since they woke up in Rome, but I get the feeling that all Kars did was find a new home and dress up his new vampire henchmen in silly clothes.   

The idea is that Wammu will be fighting Joseph in an old-fashioned chariot race, but Joseph thinks the use of vampire horses is an unfair advantage for Wammu.   But they explain that the reins will conduct Hamon, so Joseph should be able to control them with a light Ripple.   O... kay?  Lisa Lisa verifies this, but it still seems kind of goofy.  

Kars orders the battle to begin with the moon appears out of the clouds, but Joseph seems more interested in clearing his chariot wheels.   That makes Lisa nervous, until...

... the race begins and Wammu’s chariot gets stuck.    While everyone else was watching the moon, Joseph was tossing crap in front of Wammu’s chariot to slow him down.   

Look at this big tricky himbo, he’s great.

So the way this works is that there’s a pillar on the racetrack, and there’ll be a weapon hanging from it for the riders to take.   Joseph wants to get a head start so he can have his choice of weapon.    This is because one of them is a big old warhammer, and he’s worried about what Wammu could do with such a thing if he got his hands on it.    However, if Joseph could cover it in oil, he could charge it with Hamon and really give Wammu a hard time.  

And Joseph pulls it off!   He nearly loses his grip on the thing, but it catches on the ring on his finger.   Incidentally, this is the antidote ring that Caesar secured for him earlier.   Joseph has decided that he won’t drink the antidote until he’s beaten Wammu, so he’s wearing it on his pinky instead.   So Joseph seems really confident that all he needs is the warhammer to win this thing.    So why is this (Pillar) man smiling?

[thorne93]

The Softest Fire (Part 15)

Prompt: Rosaline Vaughan had it all: fame, money, power, glory, a high status job. Until, one day, she woke up, and realized something was missing from her life.

Word Count: 2785

Warnings: angst and anger

Notes: First Fantastic Beast fic! I could NOT have done this at all without @arrow-guy​​​​. They have created a counterpart to this fic, writing it from Nora Vaughan’s perspective (Rosaline’s cousin/adopted sister). Fic aesthetic done by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​.

I sat in a room that seemed vaguely familiar to me, a soft scowl on my face.

“I want my wand back,” I stated evenly, sitting at a table while Nora and Theseus peered at me.

“Tell us where Grindelwald is, and you’ll get it back.”

I leveled my gaze on hers and told her, in a flat voice, “No.” 

“Okay then, tell us where Credence is,” she attempted.

“No.”

“Okay, what about his next move?”

“I have no idea what it would be.”

Suppressing a sigh she continued with the interrogation. “Why did you go see Dumbledore?”

“To see an old friend,” I sweetly said, the annoyance obvious in my tone. “This is ridiculous. I’ve committed no crime, why is my wand being held hostage? I should be free to go.”

“You may not have committed any crimes yourself but you’ve been with one of the Wizarding World’s most wanted criminal for months and you have the audacity to say you don’t know anything,” Theseus shot, his nerves getting worked up.

I peered at him, a mischievous smile playing on my lips. 

“Come, Theseus. She isn’t going to tell us anything soon.” 

“Give me my wand!” I said a little louder, becoming enraged.

“You’re under investigation,” Theseus stated. “As soon as we find a place for you at the Ministry, you will be transferred there.” 

My eyes widened before narrowing. “You would really lock me up, cousin?” I questioned, my eyes flashing to her.

She gave me a sad look before somberly saying, “You’ve left me no choice.” 

“Is this punishment? Are you seeking a surrogate for your own pain? The fact that you can’t have Theseus here, and I found true love. It eats at you. That’s why you’re doing this. You have nothing to hold me and yet you refuse to give me my wand or treat me like a free citizen.” 

Theseus and her glanced at each other with something in their eyes I couldn’t quite make out. 

“Speaking of lovers, how is Leta, Theseus?” I questioned with a glint in my eye.

A redness consumed his face as he took a step toward the table that separates us. Nora grabbed his arm and kept him back, making me laugh. 

“Oh, Theseus. You always were a half-wit. No wonder they were begging me to replace you.” I looked off away from them, my interest shifting from the current encounter to my time with Gellert. 

He ignored the remark but they continued the questioning. 

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

The next day, I was in fact transported to the Ministry. Theseus, along with five other aurors, Nora, and Tina attended to my transportation. I suppose they were worried I, or Gellert, would do something to sabotage the relocation. However, I gave them no grief and neither did any outside sources. The interrogation continued there. I answered nothing. 

“What could he possibly mean to you?” Nora begged. “The longer you refuse to talk to us, the longer you will stay in here. If he were in your spot, he would not hesitate to give you up.”

“Don’t speak as if you know him,” I warned, the threat barely in my voice. 

“Well what else can I do, Rosaline?” she challenged. “You won’t talk to me. It’s been two days.”

“What is it you want from me?” I snapped. “You took me from the love of my life, you refuse to give me my wand. I have told you I will not give up his location or his plans. You’re just doing this to hurt me, like you’ve always done.”

Nora straightened slightly before peering at me curiously. “What--Hurt you? When have I ever hurt you, Rosaline?” she asked, sincere curiosity and pain in her voice. 

“When haven’t you? You and your family weren’t exactly welcoming,” I muttered.

“We have been nothing but kind to you. You’re practically my sister.”

“Well you’re nothing to me. So unless you have something more…” 

Her face twisted into a firm, unreadable expression as she stood to leave the room. 

“Someone else should be in here shortly to deal with you.” As soon as she said that, she shut the door behind her. 

I shook my head. This was ridiculous. I committed no crime. 

The door opened and my eyes remained on the table. I didn’t need to see the goon that was going to try and get information out of me.

“Ros--Rosaline?” a soft voice spoke and immediately my eyes met the source of the sound. 

Newt Scamander… 

“Ah, Newt, lovely to see you again,” I greeted kindly. 

“I… I have to know,” he started, his eyes averting away from me.

“Know what? Are you here to ask me about Gellert? I won’t tell you anything.”

He shook his head. “I’m not… I’m not with the Ministry, Rosaline, you know this. They have their duties, I have mine.”

My gaze narrowed as I turned to face him more directly. This was curious.

“Then what could you want?” 

“I only want to know… why him?” 

“Why… who? Gellert?” I asked, perplexed. 

“Yes. Before you entered the flames, you had just confessed that you loved me, and the next thing I hear you’re engaged to him. I know I’m not exactly a well versed romantic but something about that doesn’t sound right.” 

I peered at him a moment, a good long moment, trying to remember if I ever told him that. If I did, what about him would ever make me love him? How could I love anyone but Gellert? Newt was my boss, we had nothing in common. He asked me to do a job, and I did, simple as that.

“I told you I loved you?” I questioned, still frowning at him. 

He nodded.

“Why would I have ever told you that? You’re nothing more than a zookeeper with a brother who can barely do his damned job. You loved a woman who was vile. You could never hold any interest in my mind or heart, and above all else -- and listen closely, Scamander,” I ordered, leaning forward, “you could never be half the man he is.”

His expression morphed quickly from sad curiosity to absolute heartbreak. He said nothing before standing slowly and exiting the room. 

I hoped that would teach them to leave me alone. 

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

Nora stormed into the room they held me in, her eyes lit with rage. 

“Are you serious?”

“Serious about what?” I questioned, my tone tired.

“Did you seriously lie to Newt about loving him? After I had to watch you pine over him for years?” 

My gaze narrowed at her, confused. “I didn’t lie. I never loved Newt Scamander. How could I?” 

“That’s complete bullshit,” she spat. 

“What is this? Is this because Theseus won’t look twice at you?” I wondered. “Get over it, Nora. Besides, anyone who wanted a Lestrange is trash and you shouldn’t concern yourself with him.” 

She rounded the table quickly and grabbed my collar, shoving me against the wall. 

“You selfish child! You can't even see you've been bewitched! Grindelwald hasn't come for you. His little minions haven't come for you. No one is tearing through the streets of London looking for any trace of your magic. He didn't care about you. He cares about your power. That's it. There was no end where you ruled alongside him. You would have been thrown onto the rubbish heap with whatever poor souls he's used up along the way."

“At least he cared enough to consider me,” I stated, unfazed by her words. “Can you say the same for Theseus, or do you just serve as a rebound for a dead woman?” 

She shook her head as she let go of me, backing away. “You… You aren’t my cousin. Whatever he did to you, whatever he’s turned you into. You’re cold, heartless. My cousin, my sister, would never be this cruel.” 

“The sister you knew was weak!” I shouted. “I’ve outgrown being the little Ms. Perfect.”

“So now you’re little Ms. Murder?” 

My gaze narrowed on hers. “I never murdered anyone. I simply came into my own.” 

She simply shook her head and left, slamming the door on her way out. I felt fully satisfied. I smiled to myself and sat down.

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

Five days had passed. I was given one meal a day, and a cot in this godforsaken room. I wasn’t escorted to a jail cell, but this might have well been one. It only contained the cot, the interrogation table, and three chairs. I swore I was losing my mind in here. With each day, my rage burned less and less and worry replaced it. Why hadn’t Gellert stormed the halls for me? Why wasn’t the Ministry turned upside down to rescue me? I had given him most of his numbers through these very people, and yet he could not find a way to get me? Had he forgotten about me? 

Perhaps not. Perhaps he knew the risks and trusted I would escape on my own. I’m sure that was it, his faith in me was stronger than anyone’s. 

“Rosaline,” Nora’s voice floated into the room as she cracked open the door. “I have someone new today.”

“What idiot have you decided to grace me with today?” I questioned, tired of the interrogations. I hadn’t given anything up and I wasn’t going to. 

She opened the door wider to expose herself and the person she brought. To my great surprise and pleasure, it was Albus Dumbledore. 

“Dumbledore?” I gasped. “What… what are you going here?”

“I’ve come to see you. To see… how you are.” 

“I would be fine if someone would simply give me my wand and allow me to leave. I haven’t committed a crime so I have no idea why I’m still trapped here.”

Nora closed the door, leaving the three of us alone in the room. 

“You’re here because it is the Ministry’s belief you aren’t yourself.” 

“The Ministry’s or the people who chose to treat me as a second class citizen all my life?” My eyes shot to Nora who stood beside him. 

“Everyone, really,” he corrected. He pulled out the chair in front of me. “Tell me, what do you remember from Paris?” 

Paris… Paris… I remembered… Gellert… His beautiful face. 

“What about Paris?” I wondered. 

“Do you remember anything from the Lestrange mausoleum? The blue flames?” Nora suddenly asked, her voice more tender than usual. She sat down across from me as well. 

Something about her voice, about the look on her face. She wasn’t here to attack me or charge me with a false crime. She wasn’t even looking for information on Gellert. She was asking me to recall a simple memory. 

“Of course I remember.”

“What happened?” she urged. 

“Gellert was asking people to join him. When I got closer to the fire, he invited me in. He told me he would give me salvation. That he would protect me and value me as I should be treated.”

“You don’t remember… that you went into the fire? He didn’t invite you?” she questioned, confused. 

“I remember stepping in but his hand was outstretched. He told me we would make the world a better place together, with me at his side. How could I refuse that?” 

The two of them stared at me a moment before glancing to each other. 

“Rosaline, what else do you remember, before Paris?” 

“I remember how you kept me in your shadow. How Newt never let me live up to my potential. How your parents always treated me like dirt.”

“Rosaline, none of that happened. None of it is true.”

“Of course you would see it that way,” I argued.

To this, Nora stood and Dumbledore followed, leaving the room without another word to me. 

She eventually walked back in, alone. 

“Where is Dumbledore?” I asked, slightly miffed to see that the one person I wanted to see wasn’t there. 

“He’s taking care of something. He’ll be back.” 

“How long do you plan on keeping me here?” 

“As long as it takes.” 

I groaned and stood up, pacing for a moment before I finally said, “I'm not your dog, Eleanore. You can't push me around or tell me what to do anymore. You've treated me like a child far too long.”

“I’ve only treated you how you deserve to be treated. And it isn't me who has you on a leash. You may look at your left hand, to remind you of who collared you, cousin.”

My eyes cut to hers, hate in them. “Don’t. He has nothing to do with this.”

“He killed Leta, Rosaline! He has everything to do with this!  He killed innocent aurors! What kind of a man does that?” she shouted. “How many souls did he take while you were together? How could you be with him?”

“He was just trying to get us peace,” I implored, tears in my eyes. “You don’t understand. None of you do.” 

“Then help us. From where I stand, he’s murdering anyone who gets in his face.”

“That isn’t what he wants. He just…”

“Just what, Rosaline?”

“He just wants the muggles to let us live freely. I don’t think he meant to hurt those people.��� 

“People are dead because of him. He has to pay for his crimes. Please help us.”

I choked on my tears as I kept my face away from hers. “I can’t.” 

“Why?”

Finally, I spun to face her. “I don’t know why. I just can’t,” I confessed. 

“This is futile. You’re never going to give him up, are you?” she asked, hopelessness in her tone. My gaze stole hers for a moment as tears mystified my eyes. I didn’t answer, I couldn’t. 

She shook her head, humorlessly laughing as she stood. “If you’re not going to help us, then you’re just wasting our time.” 

“Nora, no, please don’t leave me. Nora! No!” I begged suddenly as she swept out of the room. The door closed and I slammed my hand against it. “Nora! Please!” I slid down the door, tears running down my face. “I don’t know why I can’t talk to you,” I whispered to the air. 

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

That night, I cried myself to sleep. I felt like I was going mad. My loyalty to Gellert was still there but slowly, I felt this huge rush of familiar love when Nora would enter the room. Something wasn’t right and I couldn’t figure out what it was. 

Memories with Gellert were becoming as faded and blurred as those with Nora, Newt, and my Aunt and Uncle. But why? Why couldn’t I clearly remember anything?

And Nora had been right. No sign of Gellert had reached me. No one was coming to save me. I was going to be his wife and yet... he was nowhere to be seen. I was abandoned, yet again, by the one man I loved and trusted. 

The following morning, Dumbledore alone visited me.

“Oh, thank Merlin, it’s you,” I breathed as he walked in. 

He smiled as he sat across from me. 

“Please get me out of here. I haven’t done anything wrong…” 

“I know that, Rosaline. I just have to do one simple thing, and I’ll do what I can to prove your innocence and get you out of here. You’ll have to help me though.”

“Anything,” I agreed, scooting forward.

“Let me extract one memory from you, to prove to the Ministry you’re innocent,” he requested. 

“One memory?” I wondered. “How is one memory going to do that?” 

“I just want you to show me the first memory you have after Paris. Once you joined Grindelwald.” 

“Why? What will that help?” 

“It will show your intentions.”

I peered at him, wondering what his game was but the more I looked at him, the more I trusted him. 

“Alright. I’ll do it,” I agreed. 

“Fantastic. Now, just relax, and think of that first memory.” 

I closed my eyes and did just that. Remembering how he looked, how the soft light of that dark parlor glowed on him. I remembered how Queenie stood a few feet to his right, telling him about me. I remembered how he asked me to do some things for him, and I complied, completely. How Vinda got me a new outfit, and how Gellert asked me to go to the Ministry. 

That last part was an accident, but before I could unthink it, Dumbledore pulled it from my head and stored it safely in a small vial. 

“Thank you, Rosaline. You’ve been very helpful.” 

I nodded at him, unsure of the feeling that wrapped around my chest. He took the memory out into the hall, while I waited to be released.

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

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[ialwayscomewhenyoucall]

Unshackled

for @buckybarnesbingo​

by: lira (me!)

square filled: C1 - through a scope

main pairing: bucky/clint

rating: T (for this chapter, the fic is rated E)

major tags/warnings: enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn, implied/referenced mind control, captivity

chapter summary: Nausea roils in Clint’s stomach, and he’s suddenly glad there’s no food in his stomach. Mind control. HYDRA’s perfected brainwashing and mind control. He needs to get out of here, he needs to tell…   But of course it doesn’t matter. Because he’s shackled to the wall across from the fucking Winter Soldier, deep within who knows where surrounded by who knows how many HYDRA goons, and he hasn’t eaten for...how many days now? Even if he could get to his bow, he’s not sure he’d have the strength to draw it.  In other words, he’s well and truly fucked.

chapter word count: 2881

Chapter Two

“You sure you don’t want to tell me why you’re locked up in here? ‘Cause I’m still half convinced that you’re not actually a prisoner, that you’re just here to get intel from me.” Clint looks the Soldier straight in the eye, not blinking. “I’d return the favor, but I still have holes in my memory.”

The Soldier jerks back at this, and Clint almost crosses the space to comfort the man. He stops himself before he actually moves, though. The Soldier looks shaken, off balance. He sits in perfect stillness for long minutes, then he seems to collapse in on himself. He says something, but his voice is so low and soft that Clint can’t make out any words.

“What’s that?” Clint says.

“I’m always a prisoner.”

Clint is reeling. The Winter Soldier, a prisoner? An unwilling assassin? How does that even work?

“You’re…” Clint shakes his head. “I don’t understand.”

“I don’t really either,” says the Soldier. “But whatever they’ve done to control me, lately I’ve been able to fight it. I know I’ve been alive for a long time, but I don’t actually have many memories of...of anything. Most of my life is just a blur, a haze. But I’m learning to break free of the fog. Sometimes it’s only a moment or two, other times I can willfully disobey. It…” He pauses, breathes once, twice, three times. “It doesn’t go well, disobeying. The punishments are not easy. But maybe it’s worth it.”

Clint holds himself still, but inwardly he shudders. He does not want to even think about what a punishment from HYDRA would be like.

“I think they’re not sure what to do with me. I haven’t been sent on a mission in weeks, but they haven’t put me back–” He stops, a violent shiver going through his whole body. “They haven’t put me back on ice,” he says in a low voice. “I don’t know why. They just locked me up in here. It’s been twenty-seven days now.”

“Twenty-seven... Have I–” Clint stops, unable to get the words out.

“You’ve been here three days,” the Soldier says, an almost reassuring tone to his voice. “You were delirious when they brought you in, calling out for Natasha and Steve and Tony. Then you passed out, and woke up two days later. They came in twice a day to poke at you, but apparently they wanted you to be in pain when you woke up; they could have healed you immediately, but chose to mess with your head instead.”

“But why would they put me with you?” Clint wonders aloud.

“I think they’re hoping I’ll kill you.”

It’s as if all the oxygen is suddenly sucked out of the room; Clint can’t draw a breath and his vision starts to spark and blur around the edges.

And then the Soldier is there–how is he so fast?–holding Clint’s shoulders and shaking him. “Breathe. Fuck, breathe! I’m not going to kill you.”

Clint somehow manages to gasp a breath before his vision blacks out completely. “Why do they think–” he starts, but before he can finish he’s hit by a coughing fit. His body isn’t happy about going without oxygen.

The Soldier sighs; it sounds wrong coming from this deadly man. “They think I’ll kill you because a few months ago you were a mission. You were a mission that I deliberately failed.”

It’s too much.

“You–” Clint stops and takes a deep breath. “Okay, so you were supposed to kill me? Why? I mean, I get HYDRA sending you to kill Steve or Tony or even Bruce. But I’m just a guy with a bow, you know? I’m…” His words fade into nothing because suddenly the Soldier’s words–the rest of the Soldier’s words–have penetrated his brain. Clint looks him straight in the eye and says, “You missed me on purpose? You went against HYDRA?”

The Soldier doesn’t break the deliberate eye contact; it suddenly feels warmer in the small cell. “It wasn’t...it wasn’t about you. Not exactly,” he says finally. He sounds almost pained when he adds, “How much do you know about me?”

“Just that you’ve been around practically forever and you’re a particularly deadly assassin for HYDRA.”

They’re still looking at each other intently, each trying to learn something. After a long pause the Soldier lowers his eyes and says, in a voice so low Clint almost misses it, “I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t want to do any of it.”

Clint lets the words roll around in his head, trying to dissect them. He didn’t want to kill those people? Didn’t want to become feared, a name whispered in the dark? Finally he says, “I don’t–”

“They programmed me. They had this…” He shudders, remembering. “This chair. It took away my memories and made me...pliable. Trainable. Imagine the worst thing you’ve ever felt–this was worse. And then they have a list of words, if they read them in the right order I become theirs, perfectly and completely. I obey without thought.”

Nausea roils in Clint’s stomach, and he’s suddenly glad there’s no food in his stomach. Mind control. HYDRA’s perfected brainwashing and mind control. He needs to get out of here, he needs to tell…

But of course it doesn’t matter. Because he’s shackled to the wall across from the fucking Winter Soldier, deep within who knows where surrounded by who knows how many HYDRA goons, and he hasn’t eaten for...how many days now? Even if he could get to his bow, he’s not sure he’d have the strength to draw it.

In other words, he’s well and truly fucked.

A thought breaks through Clint’s melancholy. “But you said you missed me on purpose. How does that work, if they’re in complete control?”

The Soldier grins, and Clint is aware for the first time how close they are. It is another of his not-nice grins. This one says I could eat you and spit out your bones and it would not be the most difficult thing I’ve done today. He unconsciously leans away. It’s only a fraction of an inch, but he notices, and he sees the Soldier notice too. The grin widens.

“Lately I’ve been able to fight their control. Little bits at first, stopping for coffee on the way to a mission, or taking a long and out of the way route instead of the one I was instructed to take just because I wanted to walk by the river. But missing you, intentionally missing you, that was the biggest thing I’ve ever done.

“It’s what landed me in here, actually.”

Clint flinches.

“It was… Well. It was an interesting thing. You were in my sights, I had a perfect shot. But a thought got through the brainwashing, an independent, original thought at just the right time. It was just this: What did he ever do to you? And I looked at you, big as life through my scope, and you were laughing about something and you just seemed so happy and I thought, Nothing. He’s never done anything to me. So instead of shooting you I shot a tree about ten feet to your left. No one was injured, no one even noticed the shot. And I think the tree’ll be okay, it looked like a fairly healthy tree.”

Barely noticing the Soldier’s attempt at humor, Clint says, “Okay. You were supposed to kill me? And because I was laughing–”

The Soldier heaves an overly dramatic sigh. “It’s not because you were laughing. It’s because my brain decided to shrug off a bit of the brainwashing at what happened to be just the right moment for you. The laughing was just…” He looks at Clint, then shakes his head.

“So,” Clint says, squinting at the Soldier, “you’re not sitting over there waiting for your chance to, I don’t know, throttle me with that arm of yours?”

“Don’t you think if I had full control of this arm I’d have busted us out of here by now? I’ve punched through thick cement walls with this thing before, that door there would be easy as pie. They’ve got it on some kind of lockdown. It works, but only like a normal arm. No super robot powers.” He wiggles the fingers of his metal hand. “I’m certainly clever enough to murder you with just my fingers, but it’s not really my style. Sorry to disappoint you.”

Clint fights the urge to roll his eyes. He’s pretty sure the Soldier’s enhanced abilities include vision, and he doesn’t want to risk being seen even in the dim light.

“Alright, so you’re kind of on my side. Even if you’ve been killing other people on my side.”

The Soldier glares. “I’m just the weapon. HYDRA pulls the trigger. And it’s only in the past few months I even realized how I was being used.”

Clint raises his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, I get it. You’re a killer, but not a murderer.”

“I–” The Soldier starts, then reconsiders. “That’s acceptable.”

Flashing a lopsided grin, Clint says, “Well, I guess we can be pals then. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, and all that. Right?”

They look at each other in the dim light. Neither of them speaks. Clint wonders who will be the first to look away; he’s still wondering when he falls asleep.

 A sharp pain in his ribs brings him to violent wakefulness. “Fuck!” he tries to shout, but it’s barely a whisper by the time it comes out of his mouth; the air’s been punched out of his lungs. No, not punched, he realizes, bearily looking around him. Kicked. There’s a HYDRA goon standing over him, pulling back his foot to kick again. Clint’s curled around himself, protecting his stomach and ribs, but he knows it’ll hurt if the goon lands another kick. He squeezes his eyes shut.

The kick never comes.

Instead he hears a thud and a whoosh of breath, and he cracks open his eyes to see the goon on the floor, curled up tighter than Clint himself.

At first Clint doesn’t understand. And then he looks at the Soldier, who actually grins at him...and then winks.

“Soldat, you will be punished” the goon wheezes in Russian, trying to catch his breath.

“Fuck you,” says the Soldier in a lazy voice.

Clint looks from the Soldier to the goon and back again. How could he have done so much damage to the guy with those shackles holding him back? And he’d barely moved! He’s still sitting against the wall, relaxed and grinning that fucking terrifying grin. Clint really hopes he’s never on this guy’s bad side. A small shiver runs up his spine, and he momentarily forgets the pain in his ribs.

The goon glares at the soldier, or as much as he can glare from his position on the floor. From Clint’s vantage point, the guy looks pretty well thrashed. As he’s looking him over, Clint sees something that makes him want to shout. He doesn’t, of course. Nat would murder him herself if he broke training like that. But honestly. These HYDRA guys, they might have a pretty good science thing going, but from what he’s seen, they’re all idiots.

“Hey,” Clint says, nodding to the Soldier. “Can I hit him too? I’m pretty pissed at these guys, and it’s no fair if you have all the fun.” He winks.

The Soldier raises an eyebrow, not knowing quite what’s up but playing along. “Sure. Should I hold him down for you?”

“Nah,” Clint says. “Just don’t let him get away.”

Nodding, the Soldier relaxes into the wall and crosses his arms over his chest.

Clint makes a show of pulling the goon to a sitting position, straightening the guy’s shirt and even patting his cheek before punching him in the gut. “Good enough?” Clint asks the Soldier.

A small shake of the head is all Clint gets in response, so he punches the guy again. “Better?”

“That’ll do.”

Clint shoves the guy as close to the door as he can and then starts yelling. No words, just lots and lots of noise. When their door finally opens Clint says, “You should probably get this guy to bed. He seems pretty sleepy.” He grins.

The two new goons look at the goon on the floor and haul him out without a word, glaring at the Soldier.

“If looks could kill…” Clint says.

“I’ve got a pretty bad track record around here.”

Clint can’t help but laugh.

“Nicely done, by the way.” The Soldier’s comment stops Clint’s laughing short.

“You saw?”

“No one else would have noticed, it was an excellent lift. Stupid of the guy to bring a pen in here.”

An ordinary ball point pen slips from Clint’s sleeve into the palm of his hand. In seconds he’s got it dissected into bits and is straightening the small metal spring that’s inside it to fashion a makeshift lockpick. Less than a minute later his ankles are free of the shackles.

It’s a small thing, being able to stand and walk freely from one side of the cell to the other, to stretch and jump and even cartwheel if he wanted to. It should be a small thing, but it feels monumental. Like Christmas morning, or perching on the safety rail that runs around the observation deck of the Empire State Building.

He looks at the tiny cell again, and decides against the cartwheeling. He’d probably hit a wall. Or the Soldier.

The Soldier. He’s still got the straightened spring in his hand, absentmindedly twirling it between his fingers. He minutely moves toward the man on the floor, then hesitates.

This man, the Winter Soldier, is dangerous. Right now they’ve got a sort of temporary truce, but what happens later? What happens when this whatever it is wears off and he’s ordered to kill Clint or his friends again? What is the better course of action right now?

“It’s alright,” the Soldier says, his voice surprisingly soft and...is that sadness Clint hears? “I understand. Next time they come in I’ll hold them off as long as I can, you just run. Run fast. Try not to stop and fight unless you have to. Just run.”

And that settles it for Clint, turns the soft metals into steel in his mind. He resolutely steps forward, crouching at the Soldier’s feet, and begins to pick the lock on his ankle shackle. It’s a trickier lock, but it’s not too long before it clicks.

At first he doesn’t say anything, although Clint hears a small hitch in his breath. After Clint pulls the shackle open and looks up to meet the Soldier’s eye he simply says, “Why?” He sounds truly at a loss.

Clint shrugs, and hedges. “The enemy of my enemy, right?”

“It has to be more than that,” insists the Soldier.

“Maybe,” Clint says. “But that’s my business.”

 Clint and the Soldier are sitting against their respective walls, shackles exactly where they belong, the next time the door opens. Their look says, ‘Hey mister HYDRA guy, don’t worry about us. We’re far too tired to cause any trouble.’

Which, of course, is exactly what they’re gonna do.

The Soldier moves so fast it’s almost a blur. Clint nearly forgets his part in the plan just standing there gaping at the incredible speed and strength–not to mention the line of the muscles he can clearly see even under loose, made for agile movement and possible assassination clothing–of the man he’s been sharing a cell with for the past few days. But he pulls himself out of his daze in time to slide the end of his chain into the doorway, stopping the door just before it closes. There’s no keyhole inside, not even a doorknob, and since they don’t know today’s secret knock–yeah, really, these guys are geniuses–to get out they’re going to have to rely on brute strength. Which, Clint thinks as he watches the Soldier wrap a length of chain around a HYDRA goon’s neck, isn’t going to be much of a problem.

The goon’s face is changing colors, from pink to red to something even darker, before Clint snaps out of his trance enough to say, “Hey!” The Soldier looks up, not loosening the chain. “You don’t need to kill him,” Clint says, trying to keep his voice steady and calm. “Look at him, he’s just a lackey. And isn’t it time you chose these things for yourself? Killing is what HYDRA made you do. Is it what you want to do?”

The Soldier drops the chain. He looks from the goon to Clint and back again. “My choice,” he says.

The goon rubs a hand all over his neck, soothing himself. “Thank you,” he rasps, his voice harsh from his swollen throat. “Oh, thank you.”

But in the midst of his simpering he pulls his other hand out of his pocket and–of course–he’s got a syringe. Before he can do anything with it, the Soldier punches him square in the face, sending him flying straight into the opposite wall, where he slumps down onto the floor.

The Soldier looks at Clint, an eyebrow raised. “Alright then,” Clint says.

[deamstellarus]

In Viata Asta (3)

Pairing: Stucky x Reader Word Count: 6k Warnings: Uhm…none? Maybe injuries and language?

A/N: Sorry this update is so late! My work schedule was shit last week so I was behind on editing and posting. So! I thought posting a little early would help make up for it, and it’s the longest so far? Also yes I know, this gif doesn’t have that much to do with this update but I love how it looks.

Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

You woke up to murmured voices and mechanical beeps. You were in a bed in a very white room. You could only assume it was the infirmary of S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters. Several IVs were attached to your arm. A woman with long dark hair in a bun and a white lab coat jotted something down on a clipboard beside you, then took her leave silently. Something was making your brain feel hazy. Your bets were on the strong antiseptics in the air, but it was more likely whatever pain meds they were feeding you. Your hand was bandaged now, your back probably was too for how tight it felt. You started to sit up in bed.

“You don’t want to do that, zvezdochka. With your luck, you’d probably pull all your stitches.” Natasha sat next to your bed in an uncomfortable chair, staring intensely at the screen of her tablet. She set it down on the small side table next to you, and pushed a button on a remote. Your bed shifted you into a seated position. She held a white cup with a straw to your lips. You drank greedily, the cool water soothing your dry throat. 

“How long...?” You croaked. 

“Only twenty-four hours. You lost a decent amount of blood but we got you back soon enough.”

Then why did it feel like you were laying on fire?

“Your back was practically shredded from the rocks.” Had you said that out loud? “You needed a few stitches but you’ll be fine. The boys should be back in a few minutes with snacks, if you’re hungry.”

You nodded. Or tried to; your neck was stiff. Natasha went back to her tablet, so you closed your eyes for a few more minutes before Steve and Sam’s voices echoed through the otherwise quiet space.

“Look who’s up. Miss Rough and Tumble.” Sam’s toothy grin lit up the room.

“How are you feeling, Blue?” Steve’s ocean eyes were filled with concern. He looked perfectly okay. As if he hadn’t almost drowned in an evil river. Stupid super soldier serum.

“Just peachy, Cap.”

“I thought we had a deal.”

“Sorry… Steve.” You smirked. Your stomach grumbled. Loudly. He chuckled and plopped the white paper bag he held on your lap. You opened it, smiling to yourself when you found a couple buttery croissants and one of those twisted glazed doughnuts. Natasha was giving away all of your secrets it seems. You chose a croissant, biting into the warm, flaky pastry. It was glorious.

“I see you still can't go very long without getting yourself into some kind of trouble," a familiar voice said. 

"Sorry, sir,  I—" Steve started before you cut him off.

"To be fair, I was doing fine on my own until these hooligans showed up." You muttered, mouth full, lazily gesturing to Steve, Natasha, and Sam, who stared at you indignantly.

"Don't be like that, Baby Blue!"

Fury looked unimpressed. "Excuses are—"

“...just lies we tell ourselves to justify doing something poorly." You finished his phrase, then swallowed. "It's nice to see you too, Nick."

"Nick?" Sam gasped.

"What, did you think his name was just Fury?"

"He doesn't exactly like when anyone calls him that," Sam grumbled.

"Aww, Nick! I knew you were going soft on me." 

Fury grunted, but eventually relented and came over to pat your shoulder until you flinched at his touch.

"Heal up, Agent. We’ll talk about the incident when you’re standing on your own two feet again," he said as he walked to the door.

"Not an agent," you called after him.

"We'll see about that." He threw out.

You pouted. You knew it was unbecoming of you, but this is what you'd been dreading. You didn't want to come back to S.H.I.E.L.D. That time of your life turned out to be so traumatic you ended up in a cabin by yourself for two years. But the reality is, you knew he'd get his way in the end. He always did.

__________

As far as doctors went, Dr. Alexandra Marks was patient and kind, and clearly had years of experience dealing with agents that tended to make reappearances in her infirmary. She was thorough with her diagnostics and made sure to emphasize what you could, but more importantly could not, do while you were in the recovery phase. Stitches, a heavy dose of fluids, and an advanced topical solution to help “speed up cell production”, and you were patched together the best you could be. Supposedly, they had a machine that was designed to generate skin, called the Cradle. It could have prevented the scarring, but it was out of commission due to an update or something. To be honest, it sounded too much like a cross between a crazy science experiment and a magic trick. Just the thought made you wary.  

“While you’re still lucid, I need you to give me a report of what happened,” Natasha said after Dr. Marks and the boys left. She attached a keyboard to her tablet, pulling the kickstand out so the whole thing could rest on the bed tray. “It’s just better to do this while it’s still fresh in your mind.”

“Yeah, I know.” You frowned at the screen. Blips of the incident flashed through your mind. “Honestly, I’m not too sure what I actually remember. It feels like it’s all a blur.”

“Any little detail helps,” she pushed. “Anything at all.” 

Weren’t those guys just Hydra goons though? But if that were the case, then why did it feel like there’s something more to this?

“What aren’t you telling me?” 

Her face went through a series of micro-expressions that you would have missed had you not known to look for them.

“Is it not Hydra that came after us?”

“We don’t know. But… it doesn’t look like it at this point.” She sighed. “Just write the report for now.”

“Okay.”

So you did. Any little thing you could remember from the men to the river, you included in your retelling. For the most part, you didn’t remember the men standing out in any way more than they seemed out of place in the general store. The majority of the normal clientele wore flannels, sweatshirts, or thick hunting jackets. The sleek black jackets and black caps they’d been wearing made them stand out. That being said, everything was nondescript, no labels, no logos. Pretty generic bad guys if you were being honest. The only thing you could think of was the small tattoo on the side of one of their necks, but you hadn’t been close enough to see the actual design. 

Maybe that was just you being paranoid and projecting. The tattoo was probably just a tattoo. 

A couple hours later, Dr. Marks released you, with a promise that you wouldn’t do “anything unnecessary like your troublemaker friends.” You snickered at that.  

Natasha gave you a tour of what you now learned was the Avengers Compound in upstate New York. Apparently, S.H.I.E.L.D. has been running part of the agency out of the side buildings that were part of the campus since they re-established, while there was still a segment in D.C. She pointed out the different buildings and rooms during the brief tour, but you were distracted, rightfully so, by the sheer amount of agents that gave you judgemental stares the entire way to the main Avengers building. You steeled your nerves; you wouldn’t give them anything more before you could physically defend yourself.

You stepped into an elevator after Natasha, the smooth doors sliding silently shut behind you. You allowed your shoulders a break from the stiff, upright posture you’d taken.

“You alright?” Natasha asked.

“Yup.”

“Ignore them. The most fun the majority of them have is over rumors and gossip.” Natasha said. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., third floor please.”

“Of course, Agent Romanoff,” a voice responded from above.

“A.I.?” you questioned. Natasha nodded. 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. is one of Tony’s creations. She’ll help you with anything you need.”

“Huh, well thanks in advance then, F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

“It’s my pleasure… I cannot find your identification in any system, miss. What shall I call you?”

“Oh, you can call me Blue?”

“Very well. Enjoy your stay, Blue.”

The doors opened, revealing a hallway that lead to the left and right of the elevator and seemingly wrapped around the perimeter of the building. In the center, you were able to look down over a common area of sorts, with a variety of couches, tables, an oversized TV, and a kitchen off to the side. Natasha turned to the right, passing several doors before she stopped.

“This is your room.”

The door in front of you was a glossy white with a biometric scanner to the side. 

“Put your hand to the scanner,” she said. You did. A blue light shone through your hand, then with a soft click, the door slid open. The room was bigger than you thought it’d be, but knowing who owned the building, you didn’t expect anything less. There was a plush bed on one side of the room, a desk with a swivel chair on the opposite wall. Tall windows allowed natural light in the space. A fluffy rug and long drapes helped make the room less cold and clinical. But that wasn’t what drew your attention the most. 

Draped across the bed was the plush purple blanket Clint had bought you when you were first brought back to headquarters. It was so, so soft. On top of that was your green duffle bag. It was the one thing you took with you everywhere. It stayed stocked and ready for if you needed to leave at short notice.

“Thank you, Natasha.” 

“Of course,” she nodded.

"No chance of me going back to the cabin, huh?" You asked. Because as lonely as it had been there, it was yours, for the most part, and had become your safe place.

She shook her head. "Sorry, Blue. It wasn't discovered yet, but now they've seen your face, they know you're in the area. We can't take that chance."

You knew that, of course. She only confirmed it.

“There’s an ensuite bathroom behind that door, and a walk-in closet next to it,” Natasha pointed out. “It’s not the cabin, but it’s a good place to stay. You’ll like it here,” You nodded. 

She pulled you into her arms, her hands holding you like she didn't want to let go. 

"You scared me, zvezdochka," she whispered into your hair. 

"I know. I’m sorry.” It was rare for her to show so much emotion. As long as you’d known her, Natasha had always kept her feelings hidden.

A cough at the door disrupted the mood. 

“What does a guy have to do to get the famous Widow to hold him like that?” The man leaned against the door frame, dressed in jeans and a vintage band t-shirt. It seemed far too casual for such a well-known billionaire.

Beside you, Natasha pulled away and rolled her eyes. Like a switch, her blasé facade was back in full force.

“Tony, this is Blue. Blue, Tony Stark,” she introduced.

“What kind of name is Blue?” 

“It’s a nickname,” you said.

“Uh huh.” He squinted at you. “And your real name would be?”

“Leave it alone, Stark,” Natasha growled.

“I just find it strange that not only is there no record of her in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s database, but I can’t find her anywhere. Not a name, a city, a school, medical record. Nothing.”

Natasha bristled. Her eyes were narrowed slits. “I said leave it alone, Stark. She’s a personal friend of mine and Barton’s. Leave it alone.”

Tony glared at Natasha for a moment before yielding. 

“Fine, but we’re talking about this later.” To you, he said, “Welcome to the compound, kid.”

He took his leave, and Natasha shook her head. 

“He doesn’t like when he doesn’t know everything about something or someone. Unfortunately, he will get his way eventually. He’s pushy, but it comes from a good place.”

“Don’t worry about me, Tasha. I can handle him. Besides, I am living under his roof for now, he has a right to know what he wants to know.” 

“Only if you want to.” She puts a hand to your shoulder, before she walks to the door. But his inquiry did make you wonder…

“Why isn’t there a SHIELD file for me, or at least Agent M?”

“It may have gotten...lost when I released the files to the public.” 

“You deleted mine instead of yours?” You remember she had a list of aliases, most from before she joined “the good guys.”

She shrugged. “It was time for a new chapter anyway.” She waved it off as if it meant nothing, but she risked her own neck so you could remain nameless.

“Thank you, sestrenka.” She was always looking out for you.

“Dinner is at six. You’ll meet most of the rest of the team then. Take a nap, you look like you need it.” She winked.

“Tell me the truth, how bad does it look?” You tilted your head, indicating your back.

“Eh, it’s just a few stitches.” With that, she left, copper curls bouncing behind her. And really you had no choice but to take a nap like she said. Especially when the bed looked that comfortable. __________

Natasha lied. That was your only thought as you looked at your body in the mirror of your bathroom. It was not just a few stitches. Forty-seven in total. You cringed as you read off the report FRIDAY supplied. Hearing it from Dr. Marks, and reading it off the report, hadn’t quite prepared you visually for the reality of your injuries. From what you could tell, your back was covered in black zig-zags, reminiscent of Frankenstein's monster. At least as much as you could see that peeked out from underneath the white bandages and gauze. Plum-colored splotches covered your body. In addition to your back, your right hand also received six stitches, and your sprained ankle was now wrapped. And there were bags under your eyes. You looked awful and felt like a walking bruise. 

“The meeting will be starting in fifteen minutes, Blue,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice startled you.

“Thanks.” You’d have to get used to never quite being alone alone. 

Dinner passed by pretty well the night before, by your standards at least. Tony had apologized for his aggressive questioning, with a nudge from Pepper Potts, however wary of you he may still be. That was alright for now. Steve and Sam had taken the initiative to make you feel included in the conversations, though you were more content to observe the people around you. You were introduced to Col. James Rhodes, who had a dry sense of humor and held himself like a military man, and Dr. Bruce Banner, whose alter ego was a stark contrast to the mild-tempered man that had sat beside you. By far, the most fascinating member you’d met was Vision, an android with an English accent who reminded you vaguely of a curious child. 

Now you were heading to a meeting Fury requested you attend. A loose-fitted tee and a pair of sweatpants and you were on your way out the door, wishing you’d had the forethought to have packed makeup in your duffle bag. While you never needed it on the mountain, it would have helped make you look marginally more presentable and less dead. Especially on the walk through the interconnected buildings to the conference room where you stuck out like a sore thumb. Maybe Natasha could take you out to pick some things up soon.

You cracked the door open. Eight and a half pairs of eyes followed you to the empty seat next to Sam. You were the last one there. Of course. Fury stood at the head of the table, Maria Hill next to him, arms behind her back. She raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at you. Steve, Natasha, Tony, and three agents in uniform filled out the rest of the table. A projection screen behind Fury exhibited pictures of several men you didn’t recognize. 

“Now that we’re all here, let’s begin,” Fury said. He pointed between two of the five pictures on the screen. “These two men matched the facial recognition we were able to get off the cameras at the general store where the Captain and Agent M were first shot at, amongst civilians. There were no casualties in the store.”

You squinted. The men looked familiar now, especially without the hats to obstruct their faces. In the right image was the man you’d known to have the tattoo. Now that you could see it, on the left side of his neck, the small symbol looked like three triangles overlapping.

“They were found dead in their vehicle on the side of the road, SUV wrapped around a tree. This is confirmed with the reports Captain Rogers and Agent M gave upon arrival.” He pointed to the next two images. “These two were killed on sight by the extraction team in search of the Captain and Agent M.” He pointed to the last of the five head shots. “This last man was interrogated briefly by Agent Romanoff before he was terminated.”

“So were they Hydra agents from the mountain base?” Steve asked, confusion clear on his face.

“Not exactly,” Fury said.

“He wasn’t Hydra,” Natasha said. “He said Hydra was a group run by hot-headed leaders with imperfect ideals. He said what they were was bigger and better than Hydra could ever hope to be.”

“And who are ‘they’?” Steve pressed.

Natasha shrugged. “He didn’t say, just that there were more of them and now that they had a ‘confirmation,’” she made quotes with her fingers, “they’d have all they needed soon enough to execute the program. He didn’t elaborate on what the program was or what exactly they’d confirmed. But before I could really press him for more, he killed himself. Cyanide tooth capsule.”

“Long story short, we’re led to believe these were not Hydra agents that tracked the two of you down. There were no markings on the body that would express allegiance to the group, nor did any declare their motto.”

“So what are you saying?” Sam questioned.

“I’m saying there is another organization who has at least one of the two of you as their target of interest and until we know who they are, you need to watch your backs.”

“No offense, sir,” one of the agents began. “But what would terrorist organization want with her?” She was pretty, blonde, and had an intense look about her. She wasn’t outright rude, she had a point at least; you’ve basically been in isolation for two years. Besides, she had to be more than capable to be in this room to begin with; that didn’t mean her comment didn’t irk you. You pushed down the urge to get defensive, and schooled your face into a neutral mask.

Simultaneously, all eyes were on you.

“At the moment we’re not quite sure,” Fury admitted. “Agent M’s official history within S.H.I.E.L.D. is otherwise non-existent as far as the database is concerned. However, that doesn’t mean no one would recognize her if they worked under S.H.I.E.L.D. before the disbanding.”

“You think this group is a bunch of ex-S.H.I.E.L.D., ex-Hydra rogue agents?” Steve interjected.

“Anything is possible,” Fury said. “For now, it’s best to assume Rogers was the target and Agent M was just an additional person of interest by proxy.”  

“Keep your eyes and ears open for anything that could be related to this organization.” Maria advised. “If there really is another large-scale terrorist group among us, it’d be best to nip it in the bud as soon as possible.”

After the briefing, Fury held you back, as most of the others left the room. Maria relaxed by his side, her shoulders not quite as taut.

“You’re reinstated as an active agent, effective immediately, Agent M.” Fury held your gaze with his good eye. 

“I never said I wanted to come back to S.H.I.E.L.D.. In fact, I distinctly remember telling you I never wanted to be put in that situation again.” You glared back. The fingers on your left hand dug into your palm.

“We all have to do things we don’t want to do.” His large hand cupped your shoulder. “Just because you run away from something, doesn’t mean it goes away. You are good at what you do, and I refuse to let you waste your skills anymore.”

“But I—” He cut you off. 

“You’re not the only one who’s lost someone, Blue.”

He rarely called you by your nickname. It was always ‘Agent.’ You sighed. As difficult as Fury has always been, he’d never given you bad advice. He was the one who fought for you to stay and train to be a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent in the first place all those years ago. 

And yeah, maybe he was a tad softer on you than on the others. You’d seen him as a father figure of sorts. If he thought you should be reinstated and otherwise get your head out of your ass, then you really couldn’t argue.

“Fine.”

“I knew you’d see it my way.” Fury smirked, patting your shoulder twice heading towards the door. “As soon as you’re cleared for it, you’ll start training. Rest up. This little incident tells me you’ve lost your touch.”

__________

You sat on a couch in the common room a week later, skimming through the data, searching for anything you could connect to an unknown terrorist group. Without a name, it was hard to even associate what little frays you did find, and you were led to dead end after dead end. You set the laptop on the seat beside you and pressed the heels of your palms to your eyes. You looked to your Stark-issued phone for the time. It was well past midnight. This wasn’t the first time you’d been unable to sleep this week due to your mind racing about the implications of an unknown group trying to bring devastation for whatever reason they’ve deemed justifiable. The bad feeling in your gut only intensified the more frustrated you got at the lack of information. You really wanted to punch something, but you weren’t cleared to do more than brisk walking, lest you pull a stitch and elongate your recovery period.

You went to the kitchen and poured yourself some water. The cool liquid did nothing to soothe your restlessness. So instead, you paced the halls, a habit you picked up since you arrived. You passed the entryway to the lab. More specifically, Tony and Bruce’s lab. The other common occurrence you’d noticed every night were the lights in the lab always being on this late in the night. It seemed like Bruce usually went to bed early in the evening, preferring to start his day earlier than most. Which left Tony as the only possible night owl. 

You hesitated by the door before pulling it open and wandering through the cool-toned lights in the lab. Classic rock played softly through the speakers. Tony stood at table at the far end of the room, back hunched over. He was poking at something that caused small sparks to shoot from the device. His masked face was probably still too close to the object. 

You pulled out a stool from a neighboring table smoothly, just enough to make some noise, not enough to startle him. The masked tilted up, then focused once again on the task at hand.

“Not asleep, Agent M?” He said with an ever-so-slight sneer.

“You can call me Blue, you know.” Tony hadn’t warmed up to you like you’d hoped in the past week. He’d been distant, always in the lab. Natasha assured you that was normal for him though, so you took her word for it. 

“Do I know that?” He snipped. He worked in silence for a few moments, then he put down his tools and flipped up his mask. His eyes were rimmed in red, most likely from exhaustion. “You know, I just find it odd that everything was all fine and dandy until Rogers and Co took a trip to Washington State. Now there’s a new terrorist organization we have to look out for, and you show up with no official identity in any database on the planet, and one word from Fury and we’re supposed to just be okay with that? I’m not exactly a big believer of coincidences.”

“Just ask what you want to know, Stark. I don’t want to always feel like I’m tip-toeing around you.” Because it was annoying. 

“What’s your history with S.H.I.E.L.D.?” 

“Natasha and Clint were on a mission, found me as a teen in an abandoned warehouse. Brought me back to S.H.I.E.L.D.. I was an agent for three years.”

“What made you leave?” His gaze shifted elsewhere.

“Bad mission. I lost people I cared about.” His eyes found yours. “And with Hydra discovered inside the agency and S.H.I.E.L.D. dissolving, I just got out while I could.”

He was quiet for a long time. Absently, you twirled a random screw between your fingers.

“Tell me about the mission.”

You squeezed your eyes closed, sighing deeply. You recalled your worst nightmare like it was yesterday. You opened your mouth to begin when he put a hand up.

“Sorry. You don’t need to tell me.” He waved you away. “I can be insensitive when I’m tired.”

“It’s alright, I understand. Long story short, it went really, really wrong, and I couldn’t handle it anymore. I was young-”

“You’re still young, kid,” he quipped.

“-and I already couldn’t remember my past. Losing people, people I was especially close to, was too much.” Your breath shuddered. “I didn’t want to have to go through that again, so I left. Fury kept tabs on me, same with Natasha and Clint. But I swore I wasn’t going to be an agent anymore.”

“And now, here you are.”

“Here I am.”

Tony nodded. He got up unexpectedly, shuffling over to a hidden cupboard that housed a coffee maker. He came back with two mugs, steam spirals swirled in the air. You took a sip. Minty.

“It’s a peppermint blend. Some candy cane Christmas bullshit I got in a ‘thank you’ basket over the holiday. It’s barely coffee, not even caffeinated, but it tastes nice. Supposed to help clear the mind or something.”

You shrugged. Because it was good.

“So… you don’t remember your past?”

“I don’t even remember my name.”

“That must be tough.”

“Mhm,” you agreed.

“Listen, I’m sorry for the rough start. Genuinely. I spend so much of my time trying to do the best to defend against the bad, that I sometimes jump to conclusions and can be…”

“Overly suspicious?” You supplied.

“Yeah.”

“No worries, Stark…”

“Tony.”

“Tony,” you smiled. “I would have thought the same thing. I mean hell, I almost embedded a knife in Captain America’s head when I first met him.”

“I want to do that sometimes and I’ve known him for years.” He chuckled into his mug.

“So we’re good?” You didn’t want to just assume. A heart to heart doesn’t always form a friendship, but at least maybe you’d be on good terms now.

“We’re good, kid.” He smiled, a genuine grin on his lips. “Come on, you can help me test this new version of my gauntlets.”

Huh. Maybe you were wrong. __________

Another week passed before you were cleared for active duty. The scarring was… definitely there. Harsh, red lines spider-webbed around your back. Apparently, it healed faster than Dr. Marks anticipated, especially without the cradle. She seemed convinced the shorter recovery time meant there was a high chance the scarring would fade quickly as well. You weren’t exactly a vain person, but it didn’t look pretty as of now. At least you could cover it up easily. 

You were placed into a random group of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, Group C apparently, and were given a schedule that listed off times for hand-to-hand combat training, weight training, endurance training, and shooting practice. You were convinced Steve loved to see you and the other recruits suffer as he pushed you all to run the laps of the course around the compound. The first day, you were dead after three miles, collapsing on the ground when the muscles in your legs gave up and lying on gravel sounded like a better idea. Steve only ordered you to get up and run again. You might have grumbled something about seeing if you’d ever save his life again.

Now you were able to keep up with the group. You found it a necessity, as you’d overheard in the locker room how they didn’t like you because you were “definitely sleeping with the Captain” or why else would you be there. You’d caught a stink eye more than once, and decided you had to push harder and tune them out. The chatter was useless. You knew the truth, so their opinions didn’t matter, but you didn’t want Steve to be accused of favoritism. He didn’t deserve any unnecessary backlash. 

By far, Natasha was thrilled to have you in training again. 

“You’re having too much fun with this Natasha,” you groaned from the mat. 

You were constantly being thrown by her, taunted that you’d lost your reflexes from being out of practice. You always ended up sore and bruised after a session. The snickers of the other agents really pissed you off, but you couldn’t exactly bite their heads off. Plus, even when you were in your best shape, you weren’t always able to out-Natasha Natasha; you’d only done it a few times. You knew first hand the rest of the agents in the room couldn’t do that. And you’d out-fought enough of them to know that.

“You’re making it easy on me,” she pulled you to your feet. “Maybe you should practice with someone with a little less agility for now?” She tilted her head to Sam, who’d over heard as he sauntered in and pulled a bitch face at her.

“Oh that’s low, girl. Real low.” But he joined you on the mat anyway.

Sam’s strikes were powerful and quick, like a boxer. He shuffled his feet, throwing punches at varying intervals. You dodged and blocked what you could. He got in a few hits before you picked up his pattern. That was the problem with most people in hand-to-hand. The body naturally wants to move in a rhythm, just like in running, but it’s too predictable in fighting, which is one of the reasons it was so hard to fight Natasha. She was slippery as a snake and it was hard to anticipate her next moves at the speed she moved.

You swung your arm out, your fist clipping him in his unprotected ribs, jumping out of range after. He stumbled back. You took the opportunity to rush him, diving low last minute to the space beneath his legs. You half-turned in your crouch and kicked your leg out, knocking him off balance and crashing into the mat. Finally.

“Adequate,” Natasha complimented. “But I’ve seen you do better. That was sloppy.”

You nodded, panting. She was right, but you’d take then win. It would take you a while to get back to what your skills had been, but even you had to admit. The ache of your abused muscles was actually rather nostalgic. __________

It was well after dinner when a knock at your door had you sitting up, causing the ice packs to tumble off your body. You sighed.

“Come in!”

Natasha stepped in, eyeing the ice packs. 

“Have we been too rough on you?” She teased. You didn’t take the bait.

“Nah. Just not used to it yet.”

Natasha nodded. “Just wanted to let you know Clint and the others are almost here. The quinjet should be landing in five, if you want to join us.”

“Of course.” You stumbled off the bed, and slipped your shoes on as you followed her to the hangar.

The hangar was cleaner than you would have thought. Relatively spotless and spacious. You and Natasha joined Steve, Sam, and Vision by the marker number 1 just as the rumble of an engine made the quinjet known. The noise echoed loudly in the space as the jet landed smoothly in its spot. The engines cut off, and with the high-pitched whir of the propellers winding down. The door opened down into a ramp. At first, no one came down, then there was a stumbling, mummy racing down the ramp toward you. Clint scooped you up into his arms, twirling you around, rambling a mile a minute.

“I thought Tasha was messing with me when she said you were here!” He was shouting in your ear, but you couldn’t get a word in edgewise. “When did you get here? How long are you staying? Wait! Are you back for real?”

“Barton, I’m pretty sure she can’t breathe.” Natasha’s voice cut through his excitement.

“Oh, right.” He plopped you down. You staggered before you caught yourself.

“It’s good to see you too, Robin Hood.” 

His eyes flitted over you, not overlooking the bruises from training this week.

“Geeze, you look awful. What happened?” 

“What is with the two of you?” You looked between him and Natasha. “You can’t just tell people they look awful when they’ve been beaten up. Besides, you’re one to talk,” you sassed. Clint was covered in butterfly bandages and deep purple bruises. “Can’t you go on one mission without coming back like you belong under a pyramid?”

“‘S not my fault.” Clint scratched the back of his neck. You stared at him pointedly. “Well, not all my fault.”

“Some things never change.” You grinned.

“Blue, this is Wanda Maximoff.” Natasha held her hand out to a girl around your age, with long auburn hair and sparkling green eyes. She looked at you hesitantly.

“Hi, I’m Blue.” You did a little wave, then immediately regretted it for how dumb you probably looked. 

“It’s nice to meet you.” She enveloped you in strong arms. She had an accent you couldn’t place, but it wasn’t so thick you couldn’t understand her. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you from Natasha and Clint. It’s nice to match the face with the name.”

You smiled, because she seemed very sweet. You could already see yourself being friends with her. You noticed Vision hovering just behind her, and when she pulled away, her hand reached back to find his. That was cute. You also now had questions, but that was for another time. You certainly weren’t close enough to just ask anyway.

Behind you, Steve was embracing a man with shoulder-length brown hair. He looked just as built and strong as Steve, maybe an inch shorter in height. Steve’s eyes were closed, his lips were moving, speaking too low for you to hear. The intimacy of their moment had you assuming they were more than friends. Definitely together. You wondered if the public had that knowledge, but it was more than likely not. The media would probably have a field day with that info.

Steve opened his eyes, meeting yours with a smile before he stepped back and called out to you.

“Hey Blue! Come over here and meet Bucky!”

His companion turned around and the breath caught in your throat. You did a double take. After all these years, you never thought you’d see him again. Maybe you’d dreamed you’d find your long lost friend, hoping that you both hadn’t changed too much to pass each other on the street someday without realizing. But you would recognize those eyes anywhere. 

Before you could open your mouth, he spoke. 

“Ingeras?” _________

A/N: Just now realized I haven’t given any translations for words so far, but I will from now on!

zvezdochka (Russian) - little star sestrenka (Russian) - sister, sis ingeras (Romanian) - angel

_________

In Viata Asta Taglist:  @rvgrsbrns​ @artsyspacebee​ @thelovelydreamer17​

[brattyfics]

A/N: Hi, guys! Below the cut is a short excerpt of a story with all original characters that I’m working on. I’d love it if you all took a look at it and let me know what you think. I’ve chosen not to include a summary because I want to see how it translates to someone who has no idea what it’s about. Are you the right amount of curious or does it feel like something is missing? Do you have an idea of where this is going? Do the original characters translate as real people? What genre do you think this is? Romance, mystery, drama, crime? Hint: It’s all four.

“Everyone has a plan until they get hit.” 

A famous fighter said as much seven years before she was even born, but Michaela Webb had never related to anything more. He referenced boxing matches, but the words applied to life in general. 

Every day of life was a fight, some more than others.

Sandwiched between two broad shouldered men, Michaela waited impatiently, her hands rubbing her thighs in an attempt to soothe herself. 

The goons had all but kidnapped her from her condo an hour earlier, forcing her into the backseat of the armored Suburban while they confiscated her phones.

Both phones were locked in the glove box a few hundred feet away from where they sat in the spacious conference room of an Atlanta hotel. She wished she had at least one of them, if for nothing but to have something to focus on other than impending doom.

Her insides were a jumbled mess of conflicting emotions, each stronger than the last. She felt panic, but tried to shove the bubblings of it in her chest down with logic. Like a math problem, scenarios played out in her head, all with different steps and outcomes. She was a problem solver by nature, but for once all the possibilities didn’t excite her. This wasn’t like reviewing code or experimenting with materials. This was life or death. 

Her sister’s fate.

Mariah Webb was her better half: outgoing, ambitious, daring. The Yin to her Yang. Everything Mariah wasn’t, Michaela was, and vice versa. As fraternal twins, they chose to celebrate their differences, but Michaela knew her younger sister would be better served in her place at that moment.

The stocky giant to her right offered his hand. 

“Stand.” 

She took it, legs straightening just as a dozen more men joined them.

Three tall men brought up the front, the rest fanning out behind them in diamond formation. 

The man in the center of it all emerged through the human shield to sit at the large, oval-shaped table. The table was big enough to accommodate them all, but no one else dared to join him.

To the untrained eye, Alexei Volkov was boringly average. He stood around 5’8” with a fit body for his mature age. His light brown hair was always meticulously cropped into a cut popular with men his age, and he kept his greying beard clean shaven. 

He could pass for the owner of a pastry shop, or even a professor to a person who didn’t know any better, but behind his beady eyes was the truth. 

Killer. Captain. Authority. 

The expression on his wrinkled face turned her stomach. He wasn’t happy, but neither was she. 

“What do you want?”

Alexei had lived in the States for over twenty years, but his accent was unmistakable. 

The Russian community in Atlanta was small, and they were a clannish group that stuck together. Alexei himself did not associate with outsiders. He didn’t have to because he had foot soldiers to do that for him. 

The Webb sisters were a special case. 

A flick of his pale wrist and she was being guided forward to join him at the table. Her eyes studied the detailing of the table cloth as she took her seat, bracing herself for whatever came next. 

“My partner is missing.”

His eyebrows rose.

“Your sister?” 

“Yes.” 

His wrist flicked again, a wordless signal to continue.

“I woke up this morning and she was gone. Nothing in her room has been moved, but her keys are gone. Her car is still in the parking garage. I asked to see the footage but there was nothing caught on the cameras. She would have told me or at least texted me if she had left voluntarily. Someone took her against her will.”

“You say nothing was moved. Maybe she forget this time and somebody picked her up. What about friends? Or a boyfriend?”

She shook her head. 

“I checked. No one has heard from her.”

“That is problem.” 

The cramping in her stomach intensified but she nodded her agreement. 

“What are you going to do about it?”

The question stunned her. 

What did he expect her to do about it? She was a software engineer, not a detective or a gangster with the resources or skill set to find a missing woman. 

Micheala had asked for the appointment with Alexei, not the other way around. It wasn’t something she had done before, so she expected him to be hesitant, maybe even suspicious, but she didn’t expect him to ask her that. 

She chose her words carefully. 

“I came to you because this is your area of expertise.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. It was the closest thing to a smile she had seen out of him but she wasn’t sure she liked it. 

“Is it?”

Micheala did her best impression of Mariah, straightening her back and raising her chin. 

“Well, it’s certainly not mine.” There was no room for weakness or uncertainty. She would be firm. She would demand what she wanted. “My job is to supply you with Skeletons. Your job is to make sure I can continue to do that without issue. Right?”

She understood she was toeing the line, especially with a dangerous man like Alexei, but the situation called for it. 

“Connect dots for me. Your sister isn’t home, so you can’t do job. Am I understanding?”

“No, I don’t think you are—“

“Your job is to deliver every week. I don’t care where she is. You are smart girl. You understand business. I pay you, give you protection. You give me product.”

She heard the thinly veiled threat very clearly, but it didn’t change anything. 

“It’s not that simple.”

Frustration seeped into his voice. 

“Why not?”

“Mariah and I are partners. True partners. She handles half of production, and I handle the other. I can’t do it without her.”

“So I have my men come help you, then you deliver to me in three days like normal.”

“No.” 

“No?”  His stoic men seemed to visibly shudder at the word, but his face never changed. “I think I’m not understanding you again.” 

He was giving her a chance to cower, to backtrack and change her answer.

Her confidence was slipping, but she didn’t let it show.

“One of us handles the programming. The other handles the assembly of the devices. Neither of us knows how to do what the other one does.” She was purposefully vague about the division of their labor. 

“I thought I heard you first time. This is no good. Not smart.” He tapped the side of his skull in aggravation.

She bit her tongue. 

It had been done intentionally.

Government agencies, politicians, war criminals, corner boys, and the wealthy one percent all wanted to get their hands on a Skeleton of their very own. 

Word spread in exclusive circles from Atlanta down to Miami, up the coast to New York, and then across the country to Los Angeles. Within a few months, they were supplying international clients in Canada, the United Kingdom, and even Australia. Demand surpassed supply, and they had to create a new business model that was sustainable. Skeleton hopefuls needed a reference from an existing Skeleton user before they paid the large bounty it cost to buy in. 

Nothing made a product more sought after than labeling it exclusive, and someone thought they had found a way to skirt the system by abducting Mariah, but they were wrong.

Their mistake would cost them. 

Michaela would fight for her sister until she couldn’t anymore.

She kept her tone even. 

“So, what are you going to do about it?”

GENERAL TAGLIST

@woahitslucyylu @briannab1234 @sheeshgivemeabreak @breakingnewsin-no-oneasked @angelreyesgirl @blessedboo @glimmerglittergirl @apantherinmypastlife @brownsugarcoffy @marvelmaree @starrynite7114 @scuzmunkie @thewarriorprincessxo @sadeyesgf @pearlkitten33 @imanerdychubbyqueen @literaturefeen @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @everyhowlmarksthedead

[im-just-bea]

Here in the Ashes part 2

**This was hanging out in my google docs for over a year, I wasn’t planning on publishing the other parts but here we go, more parts coming soon~ish as I proofread and make changes.. but enough about me. Onto the story**

TW: kidnapping, violence, kicking

“Hey Natasha, you wanna do something about this rain?” Diego asks looking at Ash. She responds by raising an eyebrow, pointing in front of him sending a few bolts of lightning through her fingers. He jumps back.

“Would anyone like to say a few words?” Pogo asks

There’s a few moments of silence before someone speaks.

“He lived a very fulfilling life ..accomplished many great things, and I hope in the end it was quick and painless.” Ash pauses as if deep in thought, “In my heart of hearts.. I know that he’s looking up at us right now.”

“Did she just?” Diego asks after registering what Ash said

“I like this new Natasha” Klaus chuckles

“Enough” Luther demands holding the urn. “He was still our Dad, Let’s show a little respect.”

Ash snorts and rolls her eyes

“Mr. Luther, please so the honors.” Pogo asks as Luther dumps the ashes on the ground. It’s very anticlimactic.

“This would be better with some wind” everyone looks over at Ash who rolls her eyes and flicks her wrist sending a light gust of wind towards the ashes.

“Thank you Miss Natasha” Pogo sighs

Soon things get heated and Luther and Diego start fighting.

“Really guys?! At your father’s funeral!” Ash yells over the chaos

“Hit him!!” Klaus says amused

“We don’t have time for this” Five mutters taking Ash’s hand and leading her back into the house”

————————-

“You look like hell” Ash observes after Five teleports into her room. “What happened to ‘I’m going to get a decent cup of coffee’ Coffee doesn’t take 2 hours. And-”

He cuts her off with a hug “Hey there….”

“They found us, well me, at Griddy’s. Wasn’t pretty”

“Oh my god.”

“I need to make sure they didn’t put a tracker on you too.” He pulls out some kind of device and scans her. His face falls. “I found something.. sit tight” he kisses her cheek before teleporting out.”

When he returns he has a first aid kit and a knife. He sits on the floor in front of her and gets ready to cut out the tracker.

“I’m sorry ”, he gently grabbed her arm and made an incision.

She squeezes her eyes shut and grimaces

“You know, you don’t have to act tough around me” he says after a few moments

She lets out a breath she was holding and groans when he starts digging around her arm. She squeezes his leg with her free hand.

“I know I know, I’m sorry… almost” he pulls out what looks like a blinking pill, and locks eyes with her before teleporting away and coming back a second later

“I wanted that thing far away from you. You’re doing great honey” he grabs some alcohol to disinfect the wound, once he’s done he wraps her arm with a bandage.

“I told Vanya. She didn’t believe me, she thinks I’m crazy”

“The others will too, what should we do now?” Ash asks getting to her feet

“Right now you need to get some rest.” He answers kissing her bandaged arm

————

Ash rolls her eyes. Watching Klaus “act”. The scientist at the prosthetics center pretty much brushed off Five when he stopped by this morning asking about the owner of the eye, that damned glass eye he had been carrying around for the past 40 years. He thought bringing an adult, physical adult, would help get him answers and Ash tagged along. She was glad she did because things were going nowhere and fast.

“Okay enough!” She yelled after Klaus backhanded Five. She storms over to the scientist and places a hand on his shoulder and sends a small current of lightning through her palm, shocking him. He yelps “Answer his questions.” She grabs his other hand as he reaches for the phone and chuckles. “Ah ah ah. I’m not in the mood to play with your friends. Name.Now.” She says intensifying the electricity

Five gives her a horrified look while Klaus looks mildly impressed .

“Okay okay I’ll tell you. Just make her stop” he pleads

Five pulls her away from him and he starts typing away on his computer.

“Young lady you’re grounded” Klaus chastises pretending to be horrified.

“Oh shut up”

————

“Useless” Five says looking up at Klaus, “You’re all useless!” They we’re currently outside of the facility, Five’s investigation had hit a dead end and he was pretty upset.

“Excuse you? I’m the one who got you answers” Ash says glaring up at him.

“Oh don’t even get me started on you” He says turning to Ash. “You… You can’t just torture people to get answers.” he scolds.

“Okay first of all ,I do what I want; and quit yelling at me like I’m a child.” Ash says rolling her eyes

Five pinches the bridge of his nose.“You are a child”

“You are a child” Ash mocks, “You’re welcome by the way”

“I didn’t say thank you”

“No Shit.”

She stands and walks over to him, “You’re so..”

“What? I’m so what?” He challenges

“Ugh!” She groans in annoyance

“You know ,you two bicker like an old married couple” Klaus laughs from his place on the steps.

Five sighs looking at Ash. “Well we kind of are”

“30 long years,” Ash adds crossing her arms and rolling her eyes.

“Awww that is so cute!” Klaus coos “I remember being in love, the best 3 weeks of my life..”

She sees Five roll his eyes in her peripheral and before she can react he grabs her and teleports them away.

————-

“I want you to stay here.” Five . After leaving Klaus at the science facility the two took a cab home, where Five was once again trying to leave Ash.

“No. I’m going with you. For better or worse right?” Ash argues crossing her arms

“That was nowhere in our vows. Look the less you know the better. They know I’m here and the last thing I want is for them to find you too” Five

“I can take care of myself,” Ash crosses her arms, “I helped earlier didn’t I?”

“Yes and I saw a side of you that I never want to see again” he closes the distance between them and gently kisses her. “Please just stay here? I promise I’ll be back tonight?”

“Fine” Ash grumbled. Five smiles and makes sure to kiss her goodbye before leaving.

She spends the next few hours wandering around the academy, (and avoiding Allison) even taking a bubble bath,she’s making her way back to her room when she sees Five sitting on his bed with a large pack carefully placed on a nearby chair.

“You’re back..” Ash whispers lingering in his doorway.

“Yeah” Five replies standing and teleporting inches away from her. He pulls on her robe to pull her closer. “Please stay” he asks wrapping his arms around her.

“I.. Okay” Ash answers closing the door.

When she woke up the next morning, Five was trying to sneak out.

“Five?” She asks sleepily, sitting up, they lock eyes for a moment before he climbs down the fire escape

“Great.”

Allison ambushed her on her way down to breakfast.

“We should have some sister time today” Allison suggests, sitting across from her

“Sister time?” Allison asks hesitantly. She and Allison never had “sister time”.

“Yes!” Allison urges “we can get our nails done! Or maybe go to the hair salon and get something done about your hair”

Ash self-consciously touches her messy bun, she wore her hair short for the past 30 years and didn’t have a clue or the patience to deal with it now- especially since her appearance has always been pretty low on her list of priorities.

“I don’t know..” Ash utters hesitantly

“My treat?” Allison offers in a kinder tone, “everyone deserves to feel pretty every now and then.”

“Okay” Ash smiles.

When they get to the salon she debates with Allison and the stylist for a few minutes on just how much hair to cut off. Ash wants her hair no longer than past her ears, her hair was currently near her chest and she hated it, but in the end Allison talks her into getting it cut shoulder length.

Having someone else wash and deep condition her hair is a luxury that Ash wasn’t used to. A few hours later her hair was cut, pressed and styled with curls; and for the first time in decades Ash really felt pretty.

“I told you you’d enjoy this!” Allison beams as she watches Ash admire her reflection.

They’re walking down the street to find Vanya, when it happens. One minute Allison is rattling on about who-knows-what, and the next time suddenly stops. She waves her hand in front of a frozen Allison’s face before a few goons in masks swarm her,she tries fighting them off but is seriously outnumbered. After a blow to the head her world goes dark.

—————-

When she came to; she was tied up and handcuffed in a chair across from the Handler who was wearing a faux sympathetic frown. Apparently Five had been busier than he let on and had a run-in with a couple of assassins from the commission. In a department store of all places

“Delores..” She mutters

“What was that Natasha?” The handler asks looking at her skeptically. Ash chose to keep her mouth shit but frowned.

She had a feeling something was up but having her suspicions confirmed and knowing that he left her to be with someone else really stung.

“Try not to look so sad my dear, sweet Natasha. We just want your… partner. My people left him a note so it’s only a matter of time before he comes and saves you, No hard feelings right?” she gags Ash and walks away muttering something about dead weight before leaving.

Once alone, she struggles with her bindings, silently wondering if she should wait for Five, but a pounding in her head soon answers that question and she’s soon fighting a losing battle with consciousness.. I could snap the metal, or at least stretch it out… ouch...focus Ash find the impurities… and burn the….the and she’s out.

———-

“It’s been 24 hours. Where is Five? The Handler asks calmly as one of her goons remove Ash’s gag”

“I don’t know” Ash answers

The Handler sighs and nods. One of the masked goons immediately punches Ash in the face and she lets out a cry.

“Where is Five?” She asks again not changing her tone.

“I don’t know!” Ash cries “He wouldn’t tell me his plan, he was gone when I woke up yesterday morning and I haven’t seen him since! I swear I’m telling the truth”

One of the masked goons kicks her in the stomach, knocking over her chair.

The Handler tuts condescendingly as Ash coughs. “I feel like you’re lying to us and your efforts to protect him are sweet considering he left you alone and defenseless. He obviously doesn’t care about you, you’re just dead weight to him. Last chance.”

“I really don’t know….. please.” Ash whimpers as the masked goons approach her,.

Once she’s alone again she lets out a muffled sob, too weak to even try to escape and too emotionally drained to hope for rescue. It’s been 24 hours and she doubts Five or anyone else even notices or cares that she’s gone. Her hands are numb so breaking out is out of the question. She tried to stay awake to think of an escape plan, but soon the pounding in her head gets so intense she once again loses consciousness.

——————-

She wakes up to the faint sound of Five teleporting into the room; but she’s broken and too overcome with exhaustion to react.

“Shit..” he runs over to her and reaches out to touch her, but she flinches away.

“Please….” she whimpers once he removes her gag “I don’t know where he is”

“I’m right here honey..” He gently touches her face, inspecting her bruises.

“F-five?” She asks confused and squinting,after everything The Handler said to her she doesn’t know if she’s happy to see him…… and to be honest she’s not sure he’s actually there.

Wasting no more time , he quickly unties her and picks the locks to her handcuffs. Once she’s free, he gently touches her wrists earning another flinch “What did they do to you?” She doesn’t answer and he sighs. “I’m getting you out of here” he puts an arm under her and stands, gently bringing her up with him before teleporting out.

They reappear in a room full of tubes and Five lowers Ash to the floor before hurriedly sending out a couple of messages. Suddenly the Handler appears.

“I see you found my special guest.” She announces making Five teleport himself protectively in front of Ash.

“This had nothing to do with her.” He growls

“I know.” The Handler shrugs “She was just an unfortunate casualty in our pursuit. You knew what involving her would do, yet you still did it. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again Five, you really need to drop the dead weight.”

“She is not dead weight.” Five argues.

The handler groans,“You’re a first-rate pragmatist. You belong here with us, not playing house with some little girl.”

“I don’t belong anywhere thanks to you. You made me a killer.”Five retorts.

The Handler then angrily pulls out a gun and starts shooting, in response Five grabs Ash and teleports around the room, avoiding the bullets.

“Everyone has a limit Five, even you” She taunts.

In response Five waves a grenade before throwing it and teleporting out of the room.

They appear in the briefcase room where Five hastily grabs one and pulls Ash out of the room,he tosses another grenade into the room ,grabs Ash while subtly shielding her from the explosion, and activates the suitcase.

—————

“Oh my god” Allison exclaimes as Five and Ash fall from the ceiling and crash into the bar. They roll off it and Ash pushes herself up, now rebuffing Five’s attempts to help her up.

“Where have you two been?”

“I got kidnapped….. Spent the past 2…… 2 days getting the crap beat out of me while this….. this Jackass was playing house with a goddamn mannequin.” Ash chokes lowering herself to the ground, trying to walk was a bad idea

“So you found out about Delores?” Klaus asks

“Ash-” Five starts

“Fuck you Five.” She snaps as she once again loses consciousness.

—————-

She wakes up a few hours later with a start and immediately regrets jumping up. She takes a moment to focus on her surroundings. She’s back in her room at the academy, safe. Someone also took the liberty of bandaging up her wrists and stomach. She also notices that her uniform is nowhere to be found meaning that she’s….. in a state of undress.

She quickly pulls her comforter up to her chin when the door opens, relaxing only when she sees it’s mom.

“You gave us quite the scare Natasha”

“Mom?”

“You must be starving” she smiles and sits a tray on her nightstand.

“Wh...what happened?”

“You passed out and were brought up here, then I patched you up and let you rest. Your body went through a lot of trauma and you need to rest now.” She removes the cover from her plate. “I made your favorite, try to get some more sleep when you’re done. I’ll check on you later okay?” She flashes a still confused Ash a comforting smile and leaves.

[aurodontdoit]

What We Live For...

@bisexualsabo

Hi guys this is a ticket I'm working on for a new Roleplay I'm doing with the lovely Whiskey!

Trigger Warning: Attempted sexual assault, alcohol usage, and cursing. Please don't continue if this bothers you.

You have been warned.

Autumn sat alone at the bar, nursing her head in her hands. The bartender slings another drink of whiskey her way before she sucks it down. Her eyes all bloodshot from crying and drowning her sorrows in booze, she had become quiet, and reclusive, completely opposite from her true nature of a sweet and virtuous hippy. 

Glancing down at her phone, she heaved a sigh seeing the message on the screen. 

Sabo❤️: omg Autumn! Koala is pregnant! I'm gonna be a dad! ❤️😍❤️😍❤️😍

Autumn gave a bitter smile "there goes the man I love… I wish him all the happiness…" she bittersweetly thought before sending him a response. 

Autumn: that's great, Chief! Congratulations! Give my sister a big ol hug for me. 

She could continue to drink her pain away until she felt nothing, but what would that do? Every drunken stupor has a painful crashing aftermath of reality and vomiting.

In this case, reality means her beloved best friend and long time crush, Sabo, would never love her.  

 She read the messages over and over again, burning each word into her mind. 

Sabo loves Koala.. He got her pregnant. They're gonna have a child together… he will never love me… I will never be with him… he chose her.. 

Autumn then sucked down the last of her whiskey to swallow the lump forming in her throat. She paid her tab and got up to leave. 

Once she was outside, she breathed in the early fall air of the night. A chill was felt as she walked closer and closer to her home. Before she could get in, she was stopped by some goons. 

"Hey there pretty lady~" one guys slurred before trying to grab her. Autumn punched him before the others managed to pin her down to the hood of a car nearby and cut her top off. 

"I love when sluts like you fight back~" the man husked before forcing her legs to open. She cursed herself for wearing a skirt. Before he could have his way with her, the men all fell down to the ground. 

"DON'T YOU FUCKING TOUCH HER!!" a familiar voice boomed before taking out the rest of the predators. 

With blurry eyes, and a hazy drunker mind, Autumn looked up to see the owner of that voice. 

"...Ace?" She managed before her vision went black. 

The next morning, Autumn woke with a massive hangover that felt like her head was being split open. She looked around to find that she was indeed in her bed, and in a comfy set of pajamas. After recalling the night before, she hugged her knees and cried before Ace walked in with just a towel around his waist. 

"Aud! (Odd) are you okay? What's wrong?" He asked concerned while sitting by her side. 

Words could not be formed by the young redhead. She just kept sobbing. 

Somehow, Ace seemed to understand, and threw his strong arms around her smaller frame, holding her close. Soon enough, her sobbing he ceased and she was just holding onto Ace sniffling. 

Warm… Ace is warm.. and smells like sandalwood..

Ace felt his heart break at the sight of Autumn crying. He had been close with her since they were in middle school, and fell for her in junior year in high school. He knew she loved Sabo, and he knew how hurt she was, but still remained true to her… 

He stroked a silky strand of auburn hair behind her ear, and wiped her eyes.

Once their gazes connected, the pair blushed and kept a loving want glow in their eyes. 

Wow… Ace has Mahogany eyes… I never knew how pretty they were…

They kept their eyes locked until Autumn broke the silence. 

"Ace?" 

Ace felt a shiver up his spine at how her voice sounds when she says his name so sweetly. 

"Y-yeah, Aud?" He stammered. 

"About last night…" she began. Ace nodded along wanting to know if she was okay. 

"Did you change me?" She asked.