#i’m using ‘‘justice’’ very lightly here (i hate the government) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

queensdivas · 5 years ago

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Hidden Blade Chapter 1

Y’all I’ve been to excited for this because I loved this movie with a passion. (Nothing beats Bohrap btw but damn 6 Underground was awesome not just because of Ben. Though he really made the movie even better.) If you’d like to be tagged in future chapters please hmu!

Please enjoy and I’ll see you guys in the next chapter or one of my updates. I’m on a train ride to London from Edinburgh so it’s about five hours. I plan on getting a crap done this ride so you might be seeing multiple updates!

Enjoy!

Next Chapter

Masterlist

Governments should always be in fear of who they govern over..those who are being governed should never be living in fear of who they are ruled over. Yet we live in a world where those in power abuse it badly so they can live the lavish life of the vices, greed, lust, and even the gluttony of having everything at their feet. Those who suffer under those sadly are living in a society in fear, hate, and uncertainty of whether they’ll be okay by the end of the day.

That’s where I come in.

You have to start somewhere small in order to cause a chain reaction. That lovely snowball effect. I start small by cutting off the suppliers resources, such as their plants, dirty shacks, and even the old warehouses. Once the resources are extinguished, I then move up to those in high up positions in order to really cause the rolling to begin.

Yet I was given an opportunity to do a little more good with a lot less strings attached. Who doesn’t love a little more freedom. But what I was offered was complete freedom and who wouldn’t want complete freedom.

You ever played the Assassins Creed games? I like to consider myself a walking version of that except no magical abilities, no special creed, or even a long line of ancestors that are meant to look similar and only the first three or four games nailed the similarities. Not the point. For those of you who’ve never heard of those games, imagine someone who's able to scale an entire flat building, stand on top of a metal cross, and even have some really cool equipment to help get the job done. We’ll be getting to those a little later.

My name is eight. The Assassin.

What’s the difference between a Hitman and Assassin you ask? One gets paid to do any form of killing for money, the other one does it for either political or religious reasons in this world of ours. But you both kill people? True. Never declared myself a saint anyhow in this world so shush! Story time!

I pulled up to one of the abandoned planes to turn off my 4runner and climb out. Love the whole abandoned airfield look for the hideout. Really gives that fast and furious sort of vibe. How many movies are in the series anyhow?

A ram truck came pulling up next to my 4runner as I began grabbing all my junk to hopefully store somewhere that was a little more secure than my new apartment here in California. Keeping a bunch of ropes, weapons, and my vast amount of foreign fruit would get me busted and I certainly love my Nectarine!

“Glad to know I wasn’t the only one brought into this little adventure.” He appeared in front of me as I swung my duffle bag right on my shoulder. I closed the door as I turned to see him all dressed in american/military gear. An American soldier? Real power move.

“Glad to see we got ourselves a soldier. Eight.” I held my hand out to him as he shook it.

“Seven. At Least according to that dude.” He pointed as one came out of a tiny airplane and smiled.

“Weird to see you not looking like a GAP model.” He showed up at my apartment in Israel looking like he walked out of Sunday church for some god knows reason. At first I thought he was apart of Jehovah's witness but as you can see we’re about to kill some mother fuckers.

“Ah really funny. Come meet the rest of us oh so lovely fellow campers.” We walked into the base as a women with blonde hair was reading a map while another woman was reading what looked like some sort of medical book.

“Ladies this is seven and eight our newest batch of newbies. The one reading the map is two and in the cap is five. Not sure where the other two are but I imagine they’ll be showing up sometime soon.” I gave them a small wave as I put my bag on the ground next to the large table.

“Look who finally showed up. Four this is seven and eight our eyes from the sky.” He tossed his hoodie down on the table as he gave us a small smile. The last member came into the room which is what I’m assuming was three.

“There’s this trick that we all do to get through our day. We take a box and into that box, we place all the horrors of the world, all the wrongs humans do to one another. And then we close the box and pretend it doesn’t exist. Only some of us spend too much time inside the box. We’ve lost our ability to pretend. We know there’s too much unfinished business in this messed up world. Our job as ghosts is to do the dirty work the living can’t or won’t. And we do it from here. This is our haunted house. It’s a lot like the Batcave, except it’s nothing like the Batcave. Seven, eight. You’re dead. You’re gonna be restricted to cities that you’ve never visited before. People that you’ve never met. All of course your fellow ghost, none of whom you’ll know by name, only number, for safety, and so no one gets too close.” I mean. All we need is a butler, some random child to say “geez guys” and I think we would be set.

“So basically what we’re doing is a sense of a justice league but with no moral codes?” Asking as One nodded.

“Yes. Except Wonder Women uses guns and Batman is okay with killing people.” I..okay that works.

“Each one of us has our own little gifts we bring to the table and now that we’ve required you two, we now officially have a set team.”

“We’re like the A-Team but on steroids except Mr. T is this guy.” The Spainard commented as everyone just stared him down.

“In your vast dreams.” One commented.

“Will we be required to wear matching rings?” Asking which made I believe his name is four chuckle a little.

“Funny. Alright c’mon I wanna show you two something.” We all followed him into another room where a wall covered with nine pieces of paper with a single roman numerals on each one.

“This is our target hitboard. These nine fuckers have been placing too much shit inside the box. So now they answer to us. Target number one: this prick. The Dictator of Turgistan Roach Alimov.” I walked over to his photo and began studying the guy. Radiates small dick energy already from all the work I’ve done over there, kind of like Kim Jong-Un except he doesn’t flaunt his money.

“God I’m really craving french fries. Can we finish this over at Luckies?” I believe he’s three asked the group as I began walking past the other eight pieces of paper as I lightly saw their faces. Efrain Gracian. He runs the largest drug cartel in Mexico and has been killing a shit ton of innocent people in their villages. Oh my god they put Kim Jon-Un on their target list hell yeah.

“So we plan on just killing all these pricks because they keep shitting on their countries and the rest of the world?” Leaning against the wall facing them as one nodded.

“I say we finish this thing at Luckies. I’m really feeling a shitty beer to set the mood of introductions.” One began walking out of the fort as everyone else followed except for me as I looked at the wall again. Figured there would be less on the board in all honesty.

~~~

I slipped into the booth with myself facing the middle of the window and the inside of the restaurant, seven sitting to my left while four was on my right. To think that I’m now officially dead and I cut all my ties off when I left home so no funeral. Bet they thought I was already dead anyhow so this works nicely.

“So what do you bring to the table?” I was asked as I tossed my car keys on the table.

“The soundless steps of a killer is what I bring to the table. You guys make a shit ton of noise if I think I know who you are. I’m assuming you guys we’re the one destroying Florence?” His eyes widened a little which makes my assumption correct cause these fuckers really had fun in Florence.

“Florence was an absolute disaster.” He stopped talking as the waiter came to the group.

“A round of Heineken for everyone. Then whatever else they want.” I ordered as everyone smiled a little as they began ordering their preferred drinks.

“Figured you’d be a good match since you graciously just bought us all drinks. So if you’re a soundless killer, who have you eliminated?” You can thank the new democracy in South Sudan, and ending an entire sex trafficking operation in Chad. Both we’re super difficult to achieve but damn I did an awesome job. Both were run by major cunts obviously and took months of planning to even get close to them.

“Who do you think got rid of the cunt from South Sudan?” Seven looked over at me then leaned across the table.

“You killed Zafir Bahri?” Seven asked as I nodded.

“Yup. Yet it was one of my most difficult assassinations since I had to make a break for it in the countryside. Kind of stuck out like a sore thumb till I made it to a reservation station.” The waitress came with the first round of beers. Four took a big gulp of his beer then sighed.

“Alright if we’re going to show off what our past selves have done. I got the chance to steal a 5.0 carat ruby necklace that had two smaller diamonds that were about 4.2 carats that was about 100,000 dollars worth.” Yet he’s sitting here in an American restaurant drinking some shitty beer and eating high heart attack food? Sounds about right.

“And here you are in America drinking Heineken and about to eat a very greasy double cheeseburger. Cheers” I grabbed my bottle as he did for us to clink our bottles together. Four seems super chill actually and now I’m kind of curious how he pulled off that heist.

“So. What’s the absolute best thing about being dead? I mean you don’t have to pay taxes anymore.” Seven asked the entire group as they all had an inner conversation with themselves about the best part of being deceased.

“No more dmv lines, no more shopping for Christmas.” Christmas has always been stressful for my old life and I didn’t even celebrate it!

“Or backstabbing girlfriends.” Raising my eyebrow at four. Damn someone broke his little heart. I’d play the worlds saddest song on the tiniest violin but not sure if he would get the reference.

“They should make an “Out of office” reply for dead people. Sorry I’m away from the planet right now. I’m fucking dead.” That’s a bit much but if it makes her feel better about being dead then let her do her own thing.

“No more tax, no more criminal records, no more getting arrested by the pigs just for being naked and or just the usual stuff. You know, being naked, getting drunk. Casual stuff.” How is being naked casual? Since when is being naked considered casual in any standard?

“Umm. How is being naked any form of being casual?” He took a drink of his beer as he licked his lips.

“Ya know. Just walking around naked on your balcony or even on your front porch. It’s a casual thing.” I..I still don’t see that as a casual thing. Around the house yes because oversized t-shirt and underwear is always a comfy.

“Is that like when Jersey people say it’s a jersey thing?” Before he could answer One chuckled a little.

“Guys. You’re all wrong. The best thing about being dead is the freedom. I mean, we’re all gonna die. May as well do it while we’re alive, right? When you’re young, you lock yourself into all of these bad decisions. Marriages, mortgages, and all that kind of stuff. But you die. It’s all escaped. Poof! Gone! From that point forward, all that matters is what you choose. The point is that we should bring seven and eight behind the curtain. You wanna hand me those over there?” Three handed him a bunch of plastic cups as leaned a little more forward on the table. I looked out of the corner of my eye to see him quickly glancing away back at the demonstration. Guess he’s kind of cute, not exactly sure how getting involved with people on the team is viewed. Rather avoid the whole situation.

“Alright here. A little deminsation, no technology. So this is how to stage a coup in three not so easy steps. Alright you got a country, Turgistan right? These are the people, nice people, going about, doing their thing. Then you got the four generals, cuatro cunts, very bad guys. But there’s one worse guy. That’s the piece of shit dictator, right there at the top.” Sounds about right. That was basically the entire set up in South Sudan.

“Don’t forget his brother.” Brother? Oh yeah, the guy has a brother that basically has been isolated or off the face of the earth at this point. Gotta love it when Governments hide those wanting a better world, or hiding sick pedophiles when they fake suicides so they don’t go to prison or end up being executed.

“Democracy loving brother.” So we’ve got a shitty dictator and a loving democratic. Of freakin’ course!

“He’s the key. So we’re gonna hit the four generals. They’re gonna lead us to the brother.”

“You kill top Generals, you fuck the dictators day.” Three shoved a few French fries in his mouth.

“Can confirm.” I took a big gulp of my beer as I leaned back against the booth.

“Second thing we're gonna do is free the brother. And the last thing we’re gonna do is we’re gonna say goodbye to piece of shit dictator and hello to democracy loving brother.”

“It all goes down in four months, El Dia de los Muertos, The Day of the Dead.” Kinky.

“Oh that’s it?” Seven and I looked at each other for the both of us to nod in approval of the plan.

“Um well that’s pretty simple ya know. The cups.” I took a drink of my beer as I began mentally seeing the whole plan in my head.

“Wonderful presentation.” We’re gonna die aren’t we?

“So we’re all gonna die?” At this point I say that’s a hard yes.

“Not me.” What confidence she has because there’s something about her that just kind of scares the shit out of me. Must be something federal in her former life.

“She’s not, we all are. Painfully.” Peachy. Real fucking peachy. But hey I’m already technically dead so this works out perfectly in the end. Just when my body shows up at someones house or is found floating on the coast, going to be quite a headache trying to figure out since I’m already dead.

Maybe I should be more optimistic with this new life. Could be worse. I could be stuck in a work camp in Siberia. Maybe we just see where this goes and if it doesn’t end well I just disappear into the unknown. Sounds like an absolute plan!

Taglist:

@bonafiderocketqueen @filmslutt @imjustboredso @intoanothermind @4lendow-norris @wickedholland

@takemetoneverland420 @art-flirt @intoanothermind @raylan-c

#6 Underground #6 Underground Four #6 Underground Billy #Ben Hardy 6 Underground #6 Underground Fic #6 Underground fan fic #Four x Reader #Four/Billy x reader #Four/Billy #Ben Hardy #Ben Hardy x reader #Billy x reader

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godsofmonster · 5 years ago

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Bangtan MC ≽ IV.

Reader x Bangtan- Motorcycle Club

Word Count- 8.9k

Warnings- sexual content, death, murder, guns, drugs, violence, betrayal, mentions of suicide, mentions of rape, etc.

For as long as I can remember back, I always wanted to be in a motorcycle club. Since I was six years old, the only thing on my mind was getting my hands on a Harley and a cut. I was a wolf, a wild cur, cut from the pack with bloodstained on my fur. Every wrong has marked a debt because a beaten dog never forgets.

My foot tapped against the pavement while I kept shuffling in my seat. The surrounding tables were empty, despite it being lunchtime. I could see over the balcony from my place at the table. My eyes watched down the street for any oncoming cars. I played with the glass of water in front of me, swirling the straw and knocking the pieces of ice against the rim.

"(Y/n)?"

I caught a glimpse of his figure from the corner of my eye. I immediately rose to greet him but hit my knee on the metal edge in the process. The feeling tickled my bone and shot down my leg.

I attempted to groan quietly but could not mask the injury in my expression.

"Are you alright?"

I felt his hand on my shoulder as I leaned over in pain. Great first impression, I thought.

"Yes, I'm fine," I replied, sucking up the pain and standing straight. When I turned to look at him, I was taken back by a pair of dark eyes. A set of thick black brows hung over his eyes, matching a head of full black hair cut short on the sides. His skin was tan and his jawline was cutting, I didn't expect him to be so young.

"Anthony Romero," He said gently, offering his hand out for me to take in a greeting.

I held his hand and couldn't help but stare at how attractive he was. "Please, sit."

I looked down to take my chair, being wary of the edge of the table, before seating myself. He took the opposite seat across from me, allowing us a moment to settle before speaking,

"Well, you certainly look the part," He joked lightly, trying to break the tension between us.

I looked down at what I was wearing. It was a rendition of what I had been wearing this entire week; dark-colored jeans, a Guns and Roses t-shirt, and my leather jacket. It was definitely a 180 to his city boy outfit.

"I haven't had time to go shopping," I replied, stiffly. Even though, my current style was simply a more mature version of this.

"Have you looked through the-" He took the menu in his hands, speaking casually.

"I'm not very hungry." I cut him off fairly quickly. I didn't mean to be rude, however, I was uncomfortable being seen in public.

I had advised him beforehand, that meeting, and staying out of Blackburn would be the best idea. The town could recognize an outsider from a mile away. In my opinion, the next town over was not far enough. "I'd like to say something first before we begin,"

"Of course," He set the menu down and gave me his full attention.

There was a switch in his head that brought him from casual to business. I could see it on the night of his eyes. It was almost intimidating.

"I've been working with the DEA for three years, this job has given me a sense of moral direction- if you will," I said, hoping for him to understand where I was coming from. "I've had to leave this life behind a long time ago. I literally left everything here in California."

Romero watched me intently, his eyes searching my being for any signs I could give off. He read my body language, how tense and worried I was.

"I can still leave all of this behind, but I can not- will not let this club die."

He sighed at my words, sinking back in his seat, as I continued,

"I want to help you take down the Camilo Cartel, but I need to know that our investigation isn't going to hurt the MC."

"(Y/n) I understand your relationship with the club, but you said it yourself, you haven't had a connection to them in seven years." I grabbed my drink, taking a sip of the cold water as I felt my body heat with emotion. "Bangtan has been on ATF's radar for years. They aren't a Robinhood club anymore- they're a gang. One that's been dealing arms to gangs all over California."

"We aren't ATF," I told him bluntly.

He looked at me severely offended. I knew what my words sounded like to his ears. I had looked at him in the eyes and told him I didn't care.

"You want us to cut a deal with the club?" He scoffed at the idea. "You know they'd never take it."

"No, I want you to make a deal with me," I tried not to sound demanding, but I needed to be honest with him if this was going to work. “Nothing I say about this club can be used against them.”

"You had a deal," He snapped. He didn't have to raise his voice to make me feel his rage. I could see it in his gestures, the fire burning in his eyes. "Don't forget, you came to work with us so you wouldn't serve a ten-year sentence for heroin possession."

"The deal was I helped the DEA put away a shot caller," Back when I was shooting up heroin nearly twice a day, I had grown close to a high ranking gang member, who was part of a large network of dope dealers. "I came to work afterward because it was the only good thing I had ever done with my life."

His stare only became more troublesome. I sighed to myself, also leaning away from the conversation. "I understand if you can't make me this deal. But then, I need you to fire me and find another way to get to the Cartel. I'm not going to destroy this club or let them destroy themselves."

"You think you can save them?" He asked as if I was filled with senseless hope.

"If they don't taste this drug money, I think we can," I was stubbornly hopeful.

"The DEA just wants the Cartel. As long as you help us through the information from Bangtan, we won't prosecute them." Agent Romero stood from his chair and pulled out his phone. "I'll make the call and get you the paperwork."

I could finally breathe easy once he stepped away to make that phone call. Bangtan could never understand my situation, why I would be working with the DEA in the first place. It was everything our lifestyle preached against. We were anarchists.

Emma Goldman said,

Anarchism stands for the liberation of the human mind from the dominion of religion. The liberation of the human body from the coercion of property; liberation from the shackles and restraint of government. It stands for a social order based on the free grouping of individuals.

That's what Bangtan was supposed to represent and it did, a long time ago, before it knew the payment of sin. When your life is moved off the social grid, you give up on the safety that society provides. On the fringe, blood and bullets are the rules of the law and if you have convictions, violence is inevitable. When you take action to avenge the ones you love, personal justice collides with social and divine justice. You become a judge, jury, and god. Some people cave under the weight, others abuse the momentum. But the true outlaw finds the balance between the passion in their heart and the reason in their mind.

Bangtan was lost under my father's leadership. I didn't realize that until I was gone from his side. I hated to admit that maybe, under Namjoon, the club could find their way back. I just had to make sure that happened.

"I'll have the paper ready for you later tonight," Agent Romero said, returning to the table. He pulled the chair out for himself, "I'm hoping to just go over some basic information with you for right now."

"Alright," I would still be mindful of the information we discussed, nothing would be set until I signed those papers.

I moved into the front of my jacket, taking hold of a pack of cigarettes that I regretted at the moment of purchasing, but now was grateful for. Romero remained with his phone in his hands, looking through images that I couldn't make out from my seat.

"As of right now, the number of members in the club is unknown to us. However, we think it's somewhere between twenty-five to thirty." He said, his eyes still trailing over the screen. I pulled out a square from its tight pack, arranging it between my dry lips and flickering my zippo lighter. Romero reacted to the sound, his eyes finding their way to me but not daring to say anything against it. "Of course, there are the eight members who are at the head of the table as of right now- well, seven now,"

He stammered over the sensitive information. Romero looked over my expression for any sign of discomfort. The only thing he found was the nicotine leaving my mouth in smoke form. "Bangtan was established in 1987, all of the original founding members are either in prison or dead. They are what is identified as part of the 1% of motorcyclists that practice in criminal activity for a living."

That was something that Bangtan wore as a patch on their cuts. The 1% patch referred to a comment by the American Motorcyclist Association, that 99% of motorcyclists were law-abiding citizens, implying the last one percent were outlaws. "According to ATF reports, Bangtan established a direct line to a secret Russian group that dealt with firearms. Despite constant observations and raid attempts, they've never been able to catch them with a large possession of illegal firearms."

"Bangtan doesn't cross their money streams, the bar is a legitimate business. They have a separate location for their illegal activity." I said to him.

They learned that the hard way. The only thing you would find in the bar is watered down alcohol and burner phones.

"They built a compromise with the Pure Brotherhood fifteen years ago, to keep the drug trade out of Blackburn." My father knew what drugs could do to a person. He didn't want me, or any of the youth in the town to grow up knowing that trouble.

"Until now," Agent Romero placed his phone on the table and sighed. He knew my words were true and that things were about to get much worse.

"You have to know, as well as I do, that Bangtan joining the Cartel is a matter of when- not if." I did know. I just didn't want to admit it. "If it comes to supporting a neo-nazi group, who are preparing for the great race war- or an organized, billion-dollar trade. The option is pretty clear to me."

Romero was right. Supporting a racist organization was never something the club appreciated. It was bad business and the Camilo Cartel was the perfect way out of it.

"The club knows how commanding Camilo will be. They won't give in without some kind of backlash of other members." I said, hoping that was enough to stall them.

He didn't seem very convinced by my reasons as a waitress came by with a glass of water for him. He thanked her and ordered something for himself that I didn't quite hear.

"For you?" She politely smiled at me. I waved her off with a hand gesture, trying to be as pleasant as I could.

We observed her leave the balcony to place his order. Romero set the notes of his phone away and began to ask me questions.

"What can you tell me about the local law enforcement?" There wasn't much to say.

"They obviously don't appreciate the sense of authority the club has over the town. But they have let a few things slide from time to time." I took another drag, a deeper one than before. "Are they going to assist in this investigation?"

"We'll have to let them know so that they don't interfere with anything." It was just courtesy but I didn't trust the Blackburn police. Bangtan would definitely have cops who were on their side.

"How is your relationship with the current members?" A combination of the question and the nicotine made my hand tremble.

"I went to school with some of them. They're rather polite to me because of my father." I'm sure he wanted more detail than that.

"What about your step-brother? Namjoon Kim?"

"It's complicated," I said growing sick of the cigarette in my hand, tossing it to the floor.

"Can you get close to him?" I looked Romero in the eyes and knew what his words meant.

However, with our history, his words took on a whole other meaning in my head. A twisted smile appeared on my lips.

"Yes, I can."

After I met with agent Romero, I retreated to my crappy motel. I sat on my standing Harley in the parking lot and dreaded entering the depressing space. Then I recalled the comment Romero had made about my outfit. I decided against entering, taking his advice, and putting my father's money to good use.

I left my bike parked at the motel and went on foot to the nearby boutique shops. I might have been raised by bikers, but I liked to think I still had decent taste in fashion. At least, when it comes to dressing myself, I'll wear anything as long as I can put my leather jacket over it.

I stared at the racks filled with hanging clothing, the colors arranged in no particular order, made me feel discouraged. There was nothing but low-cut blouses that would slip off the second I hit 20 miles on my bike. I was pleased to find pants that weren't ripped or acid dipped. This particular store also had a fine selection of vegan leather. It wasn't as nice as real leather, but it was certainly cheaper.

"Hey, (Y/n)."

I didn't recognize the male voice at first, but when I turned around, I was greeted by a sunny smile. Hoseok was standing a few feet beside me, and Yoongi was just behind him. "Doing some shopping?"

"Uh, yeah," I responded, placing the brown leather jacket in the pile of clothes I had already picked out. I turned to face them a little more before asking, "What are you guys doing here?"

I specifically referred to the fact that this was a female boutique. The two of them looked humorously out of place in their leather cuts, standing in the small, soft-colored store.

"His sister's back in town," Yoongi responded fairly bored.

"I wanted to get her something," Hoseok explained further. I assumed he had dragged Yoongi along for some reason. "But honestly, I have no idea what to look for."

Hoseok looked a little flustered in his expression. I sensed that he was entertaining the idea of me offering him guidance. I suppose this could be my chance, to put my fashion senses to the test.

"Well, what does she like?" I prompted, hoping he would have some kind of outline for me to think in.

"She's really into fashion but I don't know what size she wears," He said. His hand lazily pushing through the rack of clothing, like he didn’t know where to start.

"If that's the case, you can get her accessories," I told him. I figured that would be easiest for both of us. My eyes peered around the room, remembering having seen some stuff earlier.

I spotted some things hanging on the wall on the other side of the store. I advanced in that direction with Hoseok trailing behind me. We pushed through some racks of clothing to reach the large wall of accessories.

"There are hats and scarves,” I said, reaching out to touch some of the fabrics. Jewelry also hung in packs and pairs, the false metal reflecting the sunlight. “Maybe not this jewelry though, it looks cheap."

Hoseok chuckled as he eyed the things on the wall. Any of the things on the wall didn't seem too horrendous. I even kept my eyes open for anything I might like. Most of the wall was fool’s gold of necklaces and earrings. The bottom shelf held hats, nothing I found particularly interesting though. Some of the items looked to have been savaged by kids who could reach. That only left the scarves. They were dangling, one after the other, rows and rows of them. I came across a silk scarf that was cool to the touch.

"Look at this," I said, getting Hoseok’s attention. It was a square shape scarf, with berry colors of flowers and patterns. "These colors are in right now, since it's almost autumn. The silk also won't stick to her in this California sun."

"Yeah, this looks nice." He sounded satisfied with this item. He fiddled with the material in his fingers and then found the price tag. "$80?!"

I knew that silk scarfs were expensive, especially in a little boutique like this one. I patted his shoulder and gave him a fake empathetic look,

"That's the price of beauty," I joked.

"As if this scarf is going to do all the work," He responded, a little annoyed.

Hoseok settled on the scarf as a gift, regardless. I felt content with the hangers in my hand. It was enough clothing to keep me from looking like an angsty adolescent.

"I didn't see your bike parked in front," Hoseok mentioned as we strolled together to the register.

"I'm staying at the motel nearby," I replied vaguely. Hoseok stood back and allowed me to put my things down first. I greeted the woman politely and turned back to look at them.

"That lousy place down the street?" Yoongi then questioned. Just by the look on his face, he seemed to know exactly which one."That place has roaches."

"Thanks for reminding me," I bantered lightly. I should definitely look for a better place, I thought as the woman began to scan my items. I leaned against the counter, my feet aching a bit from just being up and around.

"I thought Namjoon told you to stay at his place," Hoseok said, recalling the exact moment.

"The prince doesn't always get what he wants," I shrugged.

Then I failed to hide the sneer on my mouth as I found myself to be hilarious. I made eye contact with the other two also, only Hoseok smiled at me, while Yoongi awkwardly nodded his head. I thought they were a strange pair as I searched for my wallet on my person.

"Well, you should check out my new Harley," I was admittedly intrigued by Hoseok's offer. I located my purse in the depths of my jacket and peeped his way. By the look on his face, I could tell he was excited to show off. He was like a child in a candy shop.

"Oh, yeah?" I was interested to find out more. My eyes scanned the monitor of the register for my final price of the clothing.

"Year model," He beamed proudly.

I counted the bills of twenty in my hand before handing them over to the women. I grabbed a hold of the three large paper bags where my purchases had been stuffed into. Hoseok set the dainty scarf on the register next.

"You still got your Deluxe, Yoongi?" I asked out of curiosity, recalling just barely the bike he used as a prospect. He simply nodded his head as an answer.

I had been thinking of getting myself one a while back. I loved vintage style bikes, especially when they had modern engines.

"Yeah well, I left the cruiser for a street bike," Hoseok remarked as we waited for him to finish paying.

I thought a bike could say a lot about a person. I personally liked cruiser bikes over any other style. However, everyone in the club had their own preference. Jimin and I had a similar taste in bikes. We mostly found interest in the same Harleys, except that he owned a Low Rider, which was a billiard blue color.

"What is it? An Iron 833?" I guessed. Thinking, in my head, that it was a well-suited bike for him.

"Close," Hoseok laughed, as he took hold of a smaller version of my bags. We all began to walk toward the exit, the woman wishing us a good day. "It's an Iron 1200, solid black."

I had an idea of what that bike looked like, but I had yet to see the new model for the year. "I just picked it up yesterday morning,"

Yoongi held the door open for me to step out first. Hoseok was still speaking in my ear as they followed out the door of the shop. His talking came to a soft silence as we were faced with the two member's Harleys. Their bikes were parked right in front of the boutique. Except, it appeared that Hoseok's new Harley was being used in a photoshoot.

There was a pair of strangers, a man who was posing on the bike with his motor racer jacket. A woman stood in front of him, trying to capture the image on a cell phone.

"Take the damn picture, already." He cursed at her. The man looked annoyed every time he wasn't posing for the picture.

"I'm trying," The blonde woman responded. She sounded very apologetic like she didn't want him to get upset with her. Like she knew what would happen if he did.

Before I could even think to look at the boys, Hoseok was handing me his shopping bag. I took a hold of it and followed behind them as they approached the scene.

Hoseok walked up the woman as Yoongi circled his bike.

"Here, let me do it." Hoseok smiled at her, gently taking the phone from her hands. The woman looked startled.

"Shit," She was wide-eyed. "I-I told him on to,"

"It's all right," Hoseok was sympathetic to her. I came around to her side, gently taking a hold of her arm and guiding her away from the position.

Hoseok’s eyes rearranged to look at the man. "He looks like a guy that knows how to get what he wants,"

She followed my advice and stepped aside with me. Now seeing her face more clearly, I took notice of the healing injury on her mouth. "Did you do that to her lip?"

Hoseok questioned casually. The guy didn’t seem alarmed by any means, not even when he stepped toward him.

"Bitch has a mouth on her," The man said chuckling. He spoke to Hoseok as if he would understand where he was coming from. "You know how it is, right?"

"Yeah, I do." Hoseok laughed, returning the man's smile. I was painfully aware of how close Hoseok was getting to him. He, who still hadn't moved from his seat on the bike. "So you like Harley's, huh?"

"Well, they look good," He replied, patting a handprint on the metal of the gasoline tank. That made even me. even a little angry. "But I'm more into the slant bikes, for their speed."

I eyed the Kawasaki Ninja 300 that was parked a few spots over. There was no way this couple was from Blackburn- people around here knew better. He was in for a rude awakening.

"Right, right." The courtesy in Hoseok's voice brought an uneasy feeling in my stomach. He looked back down at the phone in his hands and tapped the almost sleeping screen. "Here,"

He said, holding the phone up to take the picture of the man. Yoongi stepped around his bike, standing right beside Hoseok. "Say cheese,"

I almost felt bad for the guy who dared to smile for the picture. After the phone clicked, Hoseok handed the phone to Yoongi.

"That's before," Yoongi muttered loudly.

It wasn't until then that the man noticed something wasn't right.

"Before?" He asked.

Hoseok grabbed his helmet off the handlebar. He gripped it tight in his hand as he used the back of it to swing a blow to the guy's face. The single impact was strong enough to make him drop off the Harley. He landed on the cold, hard ground. Blood was draining from his nose and into his mouth.

"Don't ever sit on another man's bike," Hoseok spat.

"Oh my god," The blondie gasped beside me. You couldn't fail to recognize the giggle in her voice.

"Shut up, bitch!" The man barked as he was still struggling on the floor with pain.

Yoongi stepped in as Hoseok went to take care of his bike. He swung his boot into the man's rib cage, making him groan and spit out his own blood.

"A little respect for the ladies," He warned, squatting down to get a good angle on the man's phone. The shutter of the phone went off again, capturing the man's new state of humble. "That's after."

Yoongi stood back on his legs and allowed the phone to slip from his hands, hitting the floor.

By the time I thought to check on the blondie next to me, I caught her gawking eyes at Hoseok. I was half surprised to see Hoseok returning the look. He leaned forward on his bike,

"So, where are you heading?" He flashed her a killer smile.

"Oh," She blushed under his stare. Her fingers fiddling the ends of her clothing as she tried to remain casual. "Nowhere special,"

"Me too," He smirked. Looking the girl up and down before gesturing his head behind him, "Hop on, angel."

This girl wasted no time hesitating. There was even a little kick in her step as Hoseok handed her the helmet he had just used to break her boyfriend's face. I stepped forward to return Hoseok's gift as she straddled on behind him, slipping the helmet over her face. I lost interest sometime before they exchanged names.

I glanced at the man still laying on the ground. His eyes were wandering over the blood that stained his hands in disbelief. I imagined the blow to the face had left him a little hazy in the head.

"Why don't you let Yoongi give you a ride, (Y/n)?" Hoseok then suggested. The engine of his new bike began to roar.

The thought wasn't well-received in my head. I had a personal ordeal with men seeking to have me on the back of their bikes. Though I was well aware this wasn't the situation, I couldn't help but be hesitant.

"Unless you want to stay with the likes of him," Yoongi pointed out, motioning his head to the unfortunate figure on the pavement.

He gave me the time it took to light his cigarette to think about it. I wasn't afraid of that guy, not after what Hoseok did to him, not after what I had tucked into my jeans. But I figured avoiding the confrontation would be beneficial for everyone.

"Alright," I said stepping off the sidewalk into the street.

Yoongi left his helmet on the handle of his bike for me to grab. Unlike mine, he had a half helmet that would only serve my brain on a platter if we crashed. I adjusted the loose straps around my chin and switched all my bags to one hand.

"Better hold on, princess." Yoongi teased as I mounted the seat behind him.

"Don't call me that," I groaned, starting to get irritating flashbacks that made me doubt my current judgment.

The engine of his Harley trembled under me as I hooked my free hand around his waist.

His Delux wasn't necessarily meant to hold a passenger but we weren't going very far. I had to scoot in closer to his body, to make sure the weight distribution wasn't too off-center. Many inexperienced riders don't know the difference between riding solo and with someone else. In addition to the extra weight, a passenger changes the center of gravity and how the bike rides. Though, I was certain it wasn't the first time Yoongi had company during a ride.

"Gem?" I heard the man call over the rumble of the motor. "Gem!"

We were already backed into the street, Hoseok obnoxiously hit the gas on his bike. Yoongi and I followed closely behind him, leaving the man to stumble onto his feet.

The motel was roughly five minutes away from the shop. Hoseok and his new friend accompanied Yoongi to drop me off. Riding in the back reminded me a lot of being young, I would beg my father to take me for a spin. I would wrap my arms tightly around him, as my head rested on his back. Down these same roads, he would drop me off at school or take me for ice cream. It didn't help that I stared at Yoongi's cut the entire way. Those were some memories I didn't visit very often because they saddened me. Now, more so, than ever.

The Harleys pulled up in front of the motel. Hoseok parked just beside my bike. Yoongi pressed on the break gently, allowing the bike to come to a complete stop, before planting his feet on the ground. I freed his torso from my arm, adjusting my other grip around my shopping bags, before patting his shoulder.

"Thanks for the ride," I said a bit stiffly. I had to depend on Yoongi's shoulder for stability as I attempted to unmount the bike.

"No problem," He spoke, still maintaining a cigarette in his mouth.

He took his hands off the handlebars and rested back in his seat. "I'm sure you could have handled yourself,"

His comment fell ghastly on my ears. I transferred my bags to my other hand, my left-hand aching from having been gripping them as I watched him.

"I mean, I've seen what you could do with that foot." He said, taking his cigarette out of his mouth and between his fingers. He was clearly referring to the night I arrived when I lost my temper with that PB member.

"Yes, well, I have my old man's passion," I replied calmly. Though, something in Yoongi's stare made me feel a bit uneasy. His words were hinting at something else.

"And you're pretty passionate with a gun." The way he looked at me when he said that it was full of doubt. Our eyes correlated, and I felt like his black orbs could see right through me.

"It reminded me of a cop,"

A shiver crept down my spine, and my shoulders fell heavy. My manner of confronting that PB member screamed police to any outlaw. My impulsiveness had kept me from thinking that through.

It was the first time I was being questioned about it. I thought it had slipped by everyone's mind, but not his.

"Did I scare you that bad, Yoongi?" I teased, trying to react the way I normally would. "I'm just cautious like the rest of you,"

Yoongi didn't appear to be swayed by my words. He brought his cigarette back to his mouth, his cheekbones hollowing in as he took a drag. I was debating on waiting for him to say something else, or on trying to keep justifying myself before Hoseok cut into our conversation.

I had never been so grateful for Hoseok's existence.

"Yoongi," Hoseok called out in front of us. We both turned to look at his place still sitting on his Harley.

We then realized that Hoseok was gesturing to the other side of the lot. We followed his gaze over to a set of people by the sidewalk.

They were too far away to distinguish any particular details of their identity. However, it looked like two males that were having an eager conversation. I noticed their head kept turning from side to side, and they couldn't keep still. Just when I began to think that it was nothing, one of them reached out for a handshake.

No one was supposed to deal in Blackburn.

"Jesus Christ," I caught sight of Yoongi flinging his cigarette in a fit. He beat down his kickstand with the bottom of his boot, before making his way off the Harley.

"Looks like PB," Hoseok stated, accompanying Yoongi's action.

When he unmounted his bike, blondie gave him a confused stare as she reached out to touch his hand. Her eyes like a lamb gazed at Hoseok sweetly.

"Stay put, angel." He said, using the touch to bring her in closer. He gently touched her chin and planted a kiss on her busted lip. She smiled, uncertain by his words but agreed, regardless.

"Let's go," Yoongi called, his hand reaching behind him. Without drawing his weaponry, he maintained his hand resting on the handle of the gun under his leather cut. I followed in his footsteps, unsure of what I should do in this situation.

Should I attempt to interfere? Or will there be a shoot out right here?

I set my bags on the floor before catching up to Yoongi who was already by Hoseok's side.

The hooded man remained standing at the end of the parking lot, near the street corner. His customer had vanished but he was still occupied with his cell phone.

Hoseok noticed me trailing behind Yoongi,

"Keep an eye on her," He told me, gesturing his eyes to the scared woman on his motorcycle.

I had to babysit his groupie?

I stopped where I stood, just beside Hoseok's Iron. I could see blondie looking in my direction, but I was watching Hoseok and Yoongi approach the standing figure. I forced strands of hair away from my line of sight. I could feel my heart begin to beat against my chest. My limbs become stiff as stone.

I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do in a situation like this. This was my first event as a field agent, and I was about to let a shootout take place. With a liability sitting right next to me.

"What's going on?" She urged me, but I neglected her completely.

The hooded figure was so distracted he didn't take any notice of the impending threat. The two members quickened their steps, Hoseok dawdling just a little more ahead of Yoongi.

Without warning, Hoseok skulked behind the body, his arms both wrapped tightly around the torso. It was like a kidnapping scene. He used his large hand to shield the man's mouth. The force of Hoseok's legs pulled them back as he was able to dominate him easily. Yoongi kept his eyes peeled for any potential bystanders as they stumbled their way against the wall of the motel. The wall cast a shadow and provided them with coverage from the view of the street.

"Oh my god!" Blondie gasped in disbelief.

She took a hold of my arm in panic. She pulled on my arms as if she wanted us to run. Her frenzy state pestered me greatly.

I yanked her hand from my arm, my fingers clutched around her wrist tightly. She heaved at the pain, I could feel her pulse quickening against my fingertips.

"You make a fucking noise," I hissed at her between my teeth. Her eyes remained full of fear as I pushed her from my hold. "It'll be your last,"

Her eyes followed my actions as I withdrew my Glock from its cover on my hip. She froze with fright, only continuing to remain silent in her place.

I guess I wasn't very good at being a good guy.

The next I looked back, Yoongi was holding the barrel of his gun against the guy's head. He was still fighting against Hoseok's restraint but he was becoming more frantic and less functional. Yoongi's lips were moving, saying words that were too far away for my ears.

Just then, as if things couldn't have been complicated enough; I noticed an oncoming party. Approaching from down the sidewalk was a large white man with a bald head. His arms revealed a clash of tattoos, the only one that I needed to make out was a black swastika peering out his shoulder. He also wasn't shy about the gun tucked in the front of his jeans. He appeared to be searching for his lost friend.

"Shit," I cursed to myself. I had to do something.

I took a moment to look back at blondie, making sure to be as intimidating as possible when I warned her. "Don't move from here,"

I took off immediately, my feet moving at a jogging pace. I attempted to not appear alarmed. I discreetly lead my gun to my side, trying to go unnoticed for the time being. I made it to the end of the parking lot, sitting between me and the sidewalk was a few bushes at waist level.

Yoongi and Hoseok were preoccupied with the man in front of them to worry about their surroundings.

The bald man was only a few steps away from reaching the corner, where he would surely find his buddy taken captive.

I moved closer toward the building, both parties coming more clear in my line of sight. If he makes it around that corner, he could catch them by surprise and gain an upper hand quickly. One of the boys could get injured for sure.

I had to follow my instincts.

I leaned into the bushes for more security. They couldn't have been more than fifteen feet from me. I clutched the metal weight in my hand, raising my arms and seeking to find aim.

Aim small, miss small.

I concentrated on the man's shoulder. I took in a deep breath to steady my hands. He was getting bigger with each step. When I exhaled the breath from my nostrils, I pulled the trigger.

The gunshot rang through the open air and into my ear. Blondie's scream echoed somewhere behind me. The man stumbled on his legs, he clutched his right bicep and his face tore with shock.

Yoongi found me by the bushes. He quickly recognized that my target wasn't far from them.

My victim quickly discovered me at the end of the sidewalk. He reached for his firearm, but at that moment, Yoongi stepped out of the shadow. He pulled two quick shots before the man could ever hold up his gun.

He tumbled onto the floor, his legs giving out at the bullet that pierced his foot. The second one ripped through the flesh of his arm and caused his gun to fall from his grip.

I ran up behind Yoongi, I kept my gun drawn and pointed at the fallen form. With my foot, I stretched for the dropped pistol, dragging it across the cement into my area of reach. I was able to pick it up with ease after that.

The bald man stared at me with hate emitting from his eyes. He spit at my feet.

I noticed Yoongi's eyes on me, as well. It was almost as if he was conflicted by my actions. With a nod of my head, I assured him that I had their back. Whether he believed me or not, he returned to the current situation.

Hoseok remained holding down the other guy who, was still yelling through his muzzled mouth. His face was red and his eyes were watering with anger and fear. Hoseok released his mouth after the bastard threw a bite at his hand.

Yoongi had enough.

He pushed his hair out of his forehead and, in that same step, hurled his fist to the guy's jaw. Yoongi growled at the impact. He left the man silent in Hoseok's arms. His nose was dripping blood, a gash on his cheek also overflowed with the red liquid.

"Tell me where the PB is cooking the meth!" Yoongi demanded.

He cocked his gun and pressed the pistol against the fabric that covered the man's genitals. The man cried, he begged Yoongi to not pull the trigger.

"Now, you son of a bitch!"

Hearing it was hard enough, I couldn't watch it.

"I-In Blackburn! In Blackburn!" He ratted instantly.

My stomach churned at his answer. I looked at the scene unfolding beside me. I could see Hoseok and Yoongi were as startled as I was.

"They've got a lab down Riverside road! I-It's an ugly little red house- you can't miss it!"

Yoongi freed the man's crotch from gunpoint as Hoseok shoved him onto the floor. Hoseok stepped around the man's body and came directly to my side. I maintained my aim on the other guy, who was still sitting on the floor, blood oozing out of three different wounds.

Hoseok rested his hand on my shoulder, gently guiding my arm to lower my gun.

"Let's get out of here, angel." He whispered sweetly.

His words somehow managed to ease the knots of tension in my chest. I took a breath of relief and handed him the extra gun I had confiscated. Hoseok smiled at me and tucked the gun away from my sight. He then put his hand on my back, escorting me back the way we came from.

We had no problem turning our backs to them. They were both disarmed, one was bleeding out, and the other was frightened beyond recognition. There was no need to stick around for the police to show up. If those two guys were smart, they would find a way out of here before they came. The Blackburn policemen would know what happened to them and why.

Yoongi followed right behind us. I could hear his footsteps on the pavement as we strolled toward our bikes. From where we were, I could see blondie was still sitting on Hoseok's Harley.

Except, she appeared to be making a phone call.

"Oh, for fuck's sake." I groaned. Hoseok noticed my gaze and soon saw the same thing I did. She saw us walking in her direction and quickly hung up the phone.

She looked frightened when we finally approached her. She swung her leg over the bike, getting off on the opposite side of us. As if the Harley would keep us from getting to her. I allowed Hoseok to handle her.

"Sorry about that, angel," Hoseok's voice was something dangerous. He leaned his hand on the handle of the bike and smiled. "Who was that?"

"M-My boyfriend," She stuttered, trying to not buy into his enchanting smile, not after what she just witnessed. "He's coming to pick me up."

"Good," I muttered. I locked eyes with her for just a moment while I passed by to pick up my shopping backs. I imagined I had traumatized her enough for one day.

"That's too bad you've got to go," I could hear the suggestiveness in Hoseok's voice.

I walked past Yoongi's bike to my own. I had never been so happy to mount my Harley. The way the engine roared when I turned the gas made me shiver with delight. I walked the bike backward, turning slowly to line up beside Yoongi's. Who was taking advantage of Hoseok's flirting to light up another cigarette.

I followed in his thought and tried to locate the same pack from earlier.

"I didn't expect you to step in like that," Yoongi suddenly muttered as he stood next to his bike.

I took the smoke between my two fingers, putting the pack back on my jacket pocket. I held it between my lips and fiddled with my lighter.

"You didn't think I was trying to arrest you?" I mocked.

I flicked the lighter a few times, a flame igniting out of the chamber. I held the frame between my palms and used my fingers as a shield from the wind.

"I'm trying to thank you, here, princess." He sighed.

I smiled and brought the fire to the end of my cigarette. I sucked in the burning tobacco, quickly flicking the lighter shut.

"Go ahead," I smirked as I held the smoke in my lungs.

I could tell Yoongi didn't do this very often. His brown eyes glared at me from underneath his black lashes.

"Oh, forget it." He hissed, inhaling another drag.

Yoongi held his cigarette between his lips and turned his back to me. He mounted his own bike and called out to Hoseok. "Let's go already!"

Hoseok seemed to be working his magic on blondie all over again. He was still leaning on his bike, and she had taken a few paces closer to him. She wasn't scared anymore.

If it wasn't for the obnoxious speed bike coming down the road, Hoseok would have probably been able to convince her back to his place. The black and green bike came to a screeching stop. His face was covered by a full style helmet, so we weren't able to see the aftermath of his humbling experience.

Hoseok stood up straight, a smirk jeering onto his lips as he viewed the new arrival. Blondie looked over her shoulder and gave Hoseok a sympathetic look. She didn't want to leave now.

Hoseok grabbed her hand, bringing her knuckles up to his lips. He sent her away, drifting on a cloud.

Blondie slipped on her matching helmet, before mounting his motorcycle.

"Ready?" Yoongi asked sarcastically.

Hoseok's smirk remained on his face as he climbed on his bike. He was just on time as we began to hear police sirens off in the distance.

"Ready," He replied.

We had made it to the lot of the House of Cards without any trouble. The other handful of Harley's left in the front indicated a full house inside. Standing along the wall of the entrance, Taehyung held a conversation with Yeonjun as he smoked.

I followed the boys in parking alongside the other bikes. Removing my open-face helmet from my head, I relieved myself of the pressure of its protection.

"Prospect!" Yoongi called from his place, on his Harley, beside me.

I set my kickstand down, resting on my bike as I watched Yeonjun leave Taehyung's side. He was wearing his prospect cut over a dark blue flannel, his feet moved quickly, down the open lot. Taehyung remained against the wall, finishing his cigarette alone.

Once Yeonjun presented himself in front of us, he took a moment to acknowledge me with a smile. Before Yoongi demanded his attention,

"Listen closely," He said, also removing his helmet and slumping in his seat. "You're going to take (Y/n)'s bags, go to the motel on 15th street and check her out."

It made sense that I couldn't stay there after the disturbance. If what the man said was true, it meant that the PB was already taking action against the club. Blackburn wasn't safe anymore.

"Grab all her things and bring them back here."

Yeonjun nodded his head in understanding. Both his hands reached down to feel around in his front pocket. From his right one, he pulled out keys to his Harley.

"Woah!" Taehyung came up behind the young prospect. He reached around him and snatched the keys from his hands. "Who said you can take your Harley?"

Taehyung stuffed the keys into his pocket and wore a grin while his lips still held his cigarette.

"Oh come on, Tae," Yeonjun attempted to not sound too annoyed. He sighed, " It'll be easier if I-"

"I bought you a brand new bike, Yeonjun." Taehyung's voice was teasing. "Don't be ungrateful."

Taehyung took the smoke from his mouth and watched the poor boy give up. I could hear Hoseok chuckle from the other side of Yoongi. I was questioning what they had him doing this time.

Yeonjun left without another word. He walked toward the back of the bar, I lost sight of him as he disappeared around the corner. Taehyung was left with a permanent grin on his mug. He then turned his attention to the three of us that remained on our bikes.

"Where are you all coming from?" He asked. We were an odd combination to anyone who saw us.

"We ran into some trouble while shopping," Hoseok replied. He set his helmet on the seat of his bike as he rose from it. "And we picked her up on the way."

"Lucky me," I quietly joked.

"What kind of trouble?" Taehyung seemed to be more interested in that.

Hoseok sighed as he removed his leather gloves. He stuffed them into his front pocket and slowly advanced toward his friend.

"The kind that we should bring up at church," Yoongi replied.

Hoseok slipped his arms around Taehyung's shoulder and reassured the gravity of Yoongi's words with his slow head bob. His brows furrowed as he adjusted the bandana that was holding his hair back.

"Everyone's here now," Taehyung informed him. "I'll let Joon know to call a meeting."

Yoongi joined the rest of the boys in standing. I was the only one who remained mounting my Harley.

There was no doubt in my mind that they were going to discuss forms of retaliation. With the new information, it would have to be something powerful. It was going to be a declaration of strength. It was already long overdue.

"Check it out," Hoseok suddenly called. He was laughing as his eyes were staring down the back of the bar.

My mouth dropped as I finally got a glimpse of what he was referring too. Literally, on a brand new bicycle, Yeonjun came pedaling down the sidewalk. It was painted black, with rainbow streamers and a gold horn. Yeonjun looked miserable wearing a matching rainbow helmet.

My soft giggle was masked by the loud laughter of Hoseok and Taehyung. They were barely breathing in between the enormous amounts of joy. Even Yoongi failed to conceal the smile on his face as he shook his head in disapproval.

Yeonjun had no other choice but to accept his cruel fate.

He came into the parking lot. He stood on his bicycle right beside me, staring at his laughing elders. I put my hand on his shoulder and gave him my most honest look of compassion.

"I'll take your bags now, (Y/n)." The bitterness in his voice was adorable.

"Thanks, hun." I handed him the shopping bags. "All of my things should be in a backpack on the floor."

He pushed the bags up his arm so that they rested in the crook of his elbow. I also pulled out and handed him my room keys, making sure to give him the money to pay for my short time there.

"Be careful prospect," Hoseok said. He sounded sincere at the beginning of his statement. But he ultimately couldn't hold back his urge to make jokes. "Don't get a speeding ticket."

Taehyung broke out laughing all over again. His arms came hurling at his crime partner. The actual image of Hoseok's words killed him. I had never seen them laugh so hard. They looked like a pair of schoolboys.

"Yeah, yeah," Yoenjun muttered.

He took off, down the parking lot exit without saying goodbye. Hoseok and Taehyung continued to tease him even as he rode off. They yelled out a combination of mockeries and whistles.

"Come on!" Taehyung cheered. "Honk your horn for us!"

A distant sound of honking down the street melted my heart. It sent the two boys into another giggling frenzy. One that continued as they turned to walk toward the entrance. Only through the doors is that it finally dissipated from my ears.

Yoongi and I were the only ones who remained. Like me, he watched the pair wander off into their own world.

"Idiots," Yoongi muttered to himself.

I was amused by his criticism since he participated in their laughter just moments ago. Yoongi slowly turned my way. His eyes noticed that I had failed to make any sudden movements.

"You coming in, princess?" He questioned. I tried to accept the new nickname but continued to not endorse it.

"I will," I said, reaching for the whereabouts of my phone. I held it up for him to acknowledge. "I'm just going to look for a new place to stay,"

He didn't need any other form convincing than that. He gave me a single nod and retreated to follow the boys inside. I watched his slim figure walk down to the entrance. He must have sensed my eyes because he looked back before opening the doors. All I could do was send him a wave and a barely visible smile.

I needed to be alone to make this phone call.

I pressed the phone to my ear and hunched over the fuel tank of my Harley. The ringing made me anxious as I coped to remain calm after everything.

"Yes, Ms. (Y/n), I've just received your final paperwork. You'll be happy to know, the agency has agreed to all your terms just as long-" I had to cut him off.

"That's going to have to be activated as of right now because I have something," I still kept aware of my surroundings, making sure my voice wasn’t too loud.

I looked out for anyone, even just bystanders on the street.

"What did you find out?" His voice asked instantly.

"They have a possible chance for retaliation, with location and everything," I muttered into the phone, still trying to remain vague for several reasons.

"Listen, (Y/n), we need to be there when they make their choice. Stay on the club- when they move, so do we." He spoke to me sternly. His voice wasn't comforting at all. "Do you understand?"

Bangtan's next moves would decide the future of this club. Their alliance with the PB was beneficial. Did they have the necessary tools to cut that deal on their own? Or were they going to turn to Camilo for help?

I sighed.

"Yes,"

Masterlist ≽

#Bangtan MC #bts x reader #ot7 #bts #bts fanfic #bangtan scenarios #kim namjoon #kim taehyung #kim seokjin #park jimin #Jung HoSeok #min yoongi #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff

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holdin-out-for-a-hero · 5 years ago

Text

Rookie (Leon Kennedy x Reader) Chapter 9/?

Words: 2,862

Warnings: none

A/N: yesterday and the day before were the 21st anniversary of the events of RE2!

"Ada, where are you?" Leon called into the abyss.

The words "over here!" Echoed through the room. Within the darkness, he could only catch a glimpse of red. He ran over to where he saw it, his eyes adjusting to the lack of light. He could make out her arms, her legs, and finally her face. Then he saw the shrapnel. It’s metallic sides reflected the beam of light from his flashlight. He looked closer; it had torn through her pantyhose and was imbedded in her thigh.

"I can't get it out," Ada sighed shamefully. Leon kneeled down and gave her a look as if he were asking for permission. She rolled her eyes. “Oh, just do it already! I can't walk like this!"

"Ok... It's gonna hurt," he replied. One hand rested on her thigh while the other gripped the piece of metal. He counted to three, then pulled it out as quick as he could. Ada tried hard not to show her pain, but a whimper still passed through her lips. “Hold on," Leon told her, rifling though his pocket for first aid supplies. He pulled out a roll of bandages and disinfectant and began tending to Ada’s wound.

You were just now turning the corner to where Leon and Ada were, since Leon had run ahead. Looking past the mound of garbage, you saw him bandaging her up. it wasn't an inherently romantic gesture, but it still felt off. Maybe it was something about the way he touched her, or maybe it was just jealousy. You shook that thought away, realizing you were blowing things out of proportion. It was probably nothing.

But then it wasn't nothing.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily," Leon moved closer to Ada. "You protected me, now it's my turn." You noticed he didn't say "us," he said "me." Leon held her hand and helped her up. "Grab my shoulder" he said.

"Don't push it, Rookie" she replied. He smirked. You could tell he enjoyed women who were hard to crack, women like Ada.

"Ok, just trying to help." he said, that stupid smile still hadn’t left his face.

You and him weren't a thing. You were just two people trying to survive the apocalypse. So him and Ada shouldn't have bothered you. But you felt the tension, and as much as you'd hate to admit it, you liked him. A lot. It wasn't professional, and you gave yourself hell for it, but maybe, if the two of you made it out, you would want something more. But with one flutter of her lashes, Ada beat you.

"Y/N," Leon called. The two of them had just noticed you. "I found her," he smiled, your way this time.

"Great" you forced a smile back.

There was a moment, just before Leon had said something to you, that your face held your true feelings. A micro-expression, if you'd even call it that. Leon didn't catch it, but Ada did, and she caught on quick.

"Let's go," Leon said, trying to help Ada walk, though she was refusing.

"To where?" You asked.

"If you two really want to help, then we've got to get to the NEST." Ada said, limping through the ankle-deep water as quick as she could.

"The NEST?" Leon asked.

"Umbrella's lab, right beneath us" she replied. "Annette let it slip, that's where the virus samples are."

You noticed that she would only made eye contact with Leon when talking, and he did the same.

"You up for this?" Ada asked Leon.

"Think I can't fit it in my schedule," he said, the corners of his mouth twisting into a smirk.

You felt like you were going to throw up.

"And how about you?" Ada called over to you. You hesitated a moment, surprised she acknowledged you.

"What do I have to lose?" You said. It wasn’t a lie.

"Then come on. We've got work to do" So the three of you headed off. And you were now the unofficial third-wheel.

Ada held her wristband against the scanner, and the doors to the cable car opened. Leon headed inside and looked around the car. Ada trudged over to a bench, sitting down and resting her weight on her good leg. You just stood in the corner. You didn't want to get too close to Ada or Leon after what you had just seen, so you just looked down.

"This may be a one way ride, so be prepared, Leon." Ada spoke up. He pulled the lever on the control board anyway, starting the car's descent to the lab below. It was silent for a moment as Leon looked out the window of the cable car.

"You know what I was thinking?" Leon began, "I can't wait for the FBI to raid umbrella headquarters and bring those bastards to justice!" He spoke to Ada.

"I agree... but to be clear, you're not working under official capacity," she looked at Leon, and glanced at you for a moment, before speaking again, "This is a federal case. Once we get the G-Virus, I'm back on my own"

Leon clenched his jaw, looking away from her. He pondered what she said: So she wants help to get the virus but that's it? She just wants to be left alone and injured after the job is done? Of all people, an FBI agent should know that plan wouldn’t work. Unless she knew something he didn’t...

"Hey, Leon... trust me?" She asked as if she knew she said something wrong. He bounded up the steps towards her.

"You trust me?" He raised his voice; he already knew the answer.

"Honestly... If i didn't, you'd probably be dead," she said. A lie, you thought.

"Right..." he said, unconvinced as well.

Ada felt her plan was beginning to crumble. When she first met you and Leon, she just wanted you out of her hair, but you both were so skillful and she realized that the two of you could be useful. Thought as much as she wanted to count on both of you for help, though, she could only trust Leon. Because Leon wanted to believe in good, in justice, and in the government. She hadn't known him very well, but he was clearly a rookie. He was too trusting, and that's what made him so special. You, on the other hand, had doubts from the beginning. Ada knew you wouldn't pull though, you asked too many questions. So, in the hope of saving her plan, she played the victim card.

"Look, I thought I might need your help, and I was right," she said, looking into Leon's eyes as if she were looking for any hint of pity. "If you can secure the G-Virus, then I can make sure what happens in raccoon city never happens again." She glanced in your direction, and with one look she knew you weren't buying it.

"Ada..." Leon began, sitting beside her, "you said it yourself. It's a federal case. Look, I already-"

"Leon, look at me." She interrupted him. She knew only one way to keep a man from asking questions. She also knew that this certain strategy would likely split you and Leon apart, which would play out better in her favor. She saw the look on your face when Leon and helped her with her leg, she saw the glances and felt the tension. She wasn’t stupid; she knew you liked him. But she liked her job, and that would always win over anyone’s feelings. She looked at you, and then back at Leon. "I'm a liability now," she said, feigning shame. "If I'm gonna finish this case you're the last hope I've got."

You watched as she slid her hand over Leon's thigh, lightly squeezing as she looked into his eyes. She was playing him, you knew it. But it didn't hurt any less. He turned away slightly.

"I'm not just gonna leave you here, what if you're attacked?, what if you need help-"

Ada cut him off again, this time pressing her lips against his. Her hands cupped the sides of his face, and she quickly glanced at you to see if you were looking. You were. And though the look in your eyes made her feel a little guilty, it was nothing she couldn't get over.

Ada was sexy, smart, and such a horrible person. You knew it. You were right all along. She was nothing but a master manipulator and Leon was just the naive rookie who fell for it. You knew she didn't care for Leon, but you knew he cared for her. She won, and whatever plan she was up to he would help her with it. You never made a move on him because you knew everyone at the precinct would've called it irresponsible, but maybe if you had, Leon would trust you over Ada. He wasn't blameless in this either, and just as quick as your heart broke, the sadness was gone and replaced with anger.

Ada pulled away just as the cable car stopped moving, and once the door opened, you stormed out.

"Y/N, wait!" He yelled, jumping up from his seat and following after you. Ada crossed her arms as she watched Leon walk away, she knew her plan worked.

You heard his footsteps from behind you as you walked towards the automatic door entrance to the lab. Pressing the button, you hoped it would open quick enough that you could still avoid Leon.

"For your safety, stand clear until the doors are fully open," an automated voice said. Great, there was more then one door. You crossed your arms. Just as the first one finished opening, the second one started, revealing a third door. Leon was behind you now.

"Y/N..." he began, trying to look into your eyes but your gaze fixed on the final door as it was opening.

"I don't have an issue with you and Ada," you began, clearly a lie, "but she's using you and I can't believe you're letting her."

He paused, processing what you just said, then gave a shocked laugh. “Oh, so she actually makes a move and you accuse her of using me?" He replied.

"How can you be so oblivious? She's been rude and condescending to us all night and now that you've proven yourself capable she wants a kiss?” You glared at him "she's using you to do her dirty work." The third door finally opened, and you walked into the dark facility.

"How can you be so sure?" He scoffed. You turned around, Leon was walking behind you.

"Because I was a woman on the force. When I was tired of paperwork I'd just bat my lashes and Elliot or David would come help me,"

"So you manipulated them? Is that what you're trying to say?"

"It's what she's doing to you. I hate that you can't see it!" You glared at him. The lab was dark, so you couldn't tell the expression on his face. He stood silent for a moment, leaving you in anticipation for his reaction.

"And so what if she's using me?" He began, crossing his arms. "The government needs the sample and Ada's too injured to get it. It's up to us now. I'm sorry she kissed me, but we should talk about that later. Let’s just get the sample and get the hell out of here. It’s useless to argue about it.”

You knew he was right, and as much as you wanted to stay angry at him, you knew it wasn't going to achieve anything.

"Fine," You said, "but you better be right. I still don't trust her." He laughed.

"Oh I know you don’t.” he said, walking past you. The lights of the lab turned on from the sudden motion, and you could finally see your surroundings. You were in a lobby, seemingly untouched by the chaos that brought down the rest of the city. The automated voice began speaking again. "Welcome to nest, enjoy your visit!"

So this was Umbrella’s secret lab, from just the looks of the lobby, it was a very expensive facility. The walls and floors were tiled white and still shone like they were just cleaned.

You walked over to the receptionist desk, stepping behind it and looking around. There wasn't much on the desk except for the PC and a flash drive, the PC was still on. You swiveled the mouse, waking up the PC and let your curiosity get the best of you. Most of the files were encrypted, but lucky for you the attendance log was still open. You looked over the names, times, and dates and something seemed wrong about them. Maybe it was because the file was oddly named the "nap room log" or maybe it was because the last person, Wayne Li, never left. You looked back down at the flash drive again and it hit you: whatever is on Umbrella’s servers, it could bring them to justice. So you saved the log, hopefully you'd find out what it means.

"You almost done?" Leon asked, waiting for you to finish. You ignored him and pulled the drive out of the computer. "Silent treatment, huh?"

"Not silent treatment, just selective speech"

You replied, hiding the flash drive in your pocket.

"You look done to me. Let’s get going." He said, waiting expectantly.

"What are you in a rush for? You can't wait to see Ada again?" You mocked him.

"I just want to get out of this city as quick as I can," he said. You sighed, one thing he was good at was diffusing a situation. He gestured for you to come with him, and you did. The two of you fell into a tense silence.

The hallways, though fully lit and perfectly clean, were unsettling. Maybe it was like the calm before the storm, you thought. You held onto your gun a little tighter than before.

You were right about the calm before the storm, because turning a corner changed it all. Blood was everywhere, on the floor, the walls, and when you looked up, you froze. Blood was on the ceiling too, along with claw marks. You grabbed Leon's arm, pulling him back.

"Hey" he said. you threw your hand over his mouth, it was too late. Claws could be heard scratching against the ceiling as not only one, but two Lickers galloped toward you. Leon grabbed you and ran out of the way, hiding in the corner of the hall. Just a moment later, the lickers were where you previously stood. Leon pulled you toward him, one arm around your waist and one on the back of your head, pushing you into his chest. You shut your eyes tight, burying your face into his shirt. You could hear his heart beat, strong and quick and loud, oh so loud. You prayed that they couldn't hear it. Or yours, which you bet was beating just as loud. Leon's shirt muffled your quick breathing, but he himself wasn't so lucky.

Leon watched as the two lickers listened for a sound. They were just feet away now. Any sudden movements, and you both would be dead before you even had the chance to pull out a gun. He so badly wanted to close his eyes, but he couldn't take them off the creatures. He could finally take a good look at them, though he wished he didn’t. They looked like creatures that had just crawled from hell, with all of their juicy tendons and muscles on the outside of their bodies. He tried to control his ragged breathing and his gag reflex, but it each step the lickers took made it harder for him.

You heard his heartbeat quicken even more. This must be the end, you thought. And though Leon couldn't save you, You dug your fingers into the sides of his shirt anyway. Leon held his breath, but you could still hear his heart pounding in his chest.

After what felt like an eternity, the lickers made their way back down the hallway and around another corner. Leon slumped his shoulders and let go of the breath he was holding. His arms found his way back to his sides. You quickly separated from him, looking anywhere but his face. It wasn't until you let go, though, that you realized how comfortable that position was.

Leon locked eyes with you, and for a second he gave you a smile, the same cocky, teasing smile he showed Ada just a little while ago. Your heart skipped a beat. But he liked Ada, and there was no denying that. You crossed your arms and turned away from him. Still, no matter what you did, you couldn't stop thinking about that embrace. Stupid Leon with his stupid perfect body and his stupid perfect face and his stupid cute personality.

You shook those thoughts away, for you know you had to face those lickers again to get the sample. You looked down at your watch, 3:47 am. This night was far from over.

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #resident evil #resident evil 2

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anubianpagan · 5 years ago

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Ma’at and Is/f/et

It seems the kemetic community is confused as to what is Ma’at and what is Isfet. So let’s break this down using the most recent instance of this ignorance. Prompted by @secondgenerationimmigrant ‘s hate-fueled rages. I’ll let @belovedbysetandsekhmet and @ngdiscourse speak for themselves but here is my take.

Let’s start with Ma’at, there’s been alot of great discussions of what Ma’at is and I feel these discussions are some of the more pertinent and excellent ones to peruse for understanding Ma’at. These discussions all make very excellent points and are well worth the reads: Here, Here, Here, Here, Here, Here, Here and Here!

To begin with the hate anons “someone” sent me directly after a post of light mocking beginning with this one:

Now, I appreciate the politeness of saying “please” but the rest shows a complete lack of understanding about what Ma’at is. Nothing I’ve posted is “anti-ma’at” unless of course you are a radicalized extremist who relies on overly emotional and manipulative mental gymnastics to justify yourself. Most of the kemetics in the little political fandom group tend to think along these lines, that being a hateful, bitter person is somehow justifiable because they have convinced themselves it’s “ma’at” mostly these people are misguided and ignorant, and to be pitied.

It is one thing to send such hate anons to someone, and another to wish horrific harm to someone for lightly mocking you. As evidenced in this link: Here.

To be clear, this is not an execration because nothings being purged, nothings being removed, is/f/et isn’t being snuffed out, the wyrm isn’t being destroyed, this is just pure bitter hate. Pure malice wished on someone because you can’t handle anythign outside your echo-chamnber. Lets break this down:

“I hope your government fucks you personally over and that you drown in debt and starve like the people who were victims of austerity in the UK. “

It takes a special kind of evil to truly wish this on someone for mocking you. Getting a light bit of mocking and you wish the government destroys their lives and they go into financial ruin? This is not fighting is/f/et this is actively trying to feed it. This is not Ma’at, this is actively stomping on Ma’at out of such bitter hatred and lack of moral fiber, even in a rage, this is a truly vile thing to wish on people you politically disagree with. However, when you justify to yourself that everyone who disagrees MUST be evil and all political dissent is the work of pure evil...it’s easy to cast yourself the hero in your own demented morality play.

“I hope you feel the despair of the people who had to choose between food and heating, of the people who had to work several jobs to exhaustion just to make ends meet, of the people who had to ration lifesaving medication because they couldn’t afford refills.“

Good vitriol but poor choices of wording. How can you think you have any morality what so ever, that at the sight of being mocked for your political opinions, you immediately turn to this as your go-to reaction to wish on people? Wishing harm, despair, pain and suffering on people who disagree with you or don’t believe you. How can you honestly sit there and pretend you have felt even one modicum of Ma’at’s light fill you when this is where your mind goes because you lost a political event? Your team didn’t win this time, it sucks, sure, but turning to wanting such horrible poverty and hardship and wishing it on people who politically disagree with you...is honestly, not anywhere near Ma’at, in fact, it’s directly the opposite. You aren’t fighting FOR Ma’at here sweetie, you’re DEFENDING Is/fe/t. We are just people disagreeing with you on the internet, we aren’t salivating over people dying and suffering, or complicit in desiring pain and hardships on families you deluded downer debby duckling.

“How is this Ma'at, you awful pieces of shit? How can you justify this to yourselves and be OK with treating the whole situation as an occasion to get your shits and giggles out of the “leftie snowflakes who have finally gotten got”?“

To be clear, we’ve mocked SGI’s politics, we never agreed with the opposing parties. But to an extremist so blinded by their own hubris and false senses of moral superiority...I’m sure it looks the same. Much is the case with social justice crowds, they are completely blinded by their own foolishness that they hurl themselves into the darkness and call it light. To blame some people who mocked you, for the evils of the world, is at best terribly naive, at worst, willfully ignorant. These same people also tend to not understand the difference between “I disagree with you” and Fascism™, but that usually stems from not actually wanting to know the difference. It’s a lot easier to disgrace someone’s name when you claim they are literally evil and morally abhorrent. This is why so many who don’t bow down to the kemetic fandom’s crowd of toxic sjw’s get called fascists, or nazis, or any kind of -ism imaginable. Mostly it just shows these people are profoundly ignorant and exist in a toxic echo-chamber headspace that is, in the long run, unhealthy. It’s an ideology of unlearning and unthinking, it’s gross, it’s not “social awareness” because social awareness would include knowing what words mean. Not throwing them around so hard they lose all meaning. “Owning the leftie snowflakes” isn’t the goal, usually it’s to argue against what is thought to be bad leftist ideas, with better, more sound arguments that go over their heads because they worship their politics.

I’m sure some would argue it’s “mean” to tease these people or mock them for their bad ideas/opinions, but when you watched them support the people who led the charges in the sjw war on the kemetic community, the people they hurt, the people they smeared and chased away, the content they trashed, gods they disgraced...They become comically tiresome clowns. We’re tired of their bullshit, the kemetic community was trashed into a garbage heap because people wouldn’t bend the knee to their political tripe. In hateful revenge they made sure everyone who didn’t agree was either smeared, chased off, or they lied their asses off to disgrace their names. None of them really have any idea what Ma’at or Is/fe/t are, they just throw the words around without any care for meaning, or quoting some violent racist rapists book as holy doctrine on the subjects of Ma’at.

To be clear, I’m not angry, I’ve long since passed angry and went all the way around to pity. I pity these kids, alot. I hope they wake up someday.

This clear overreaction is even more hilarious when you consider that they have no idea how to form an execration...imagine if such terrible people actually knew how to use magical systems to achieve working goals...the world would look like the middle east, shredded in war and poverty and religious extremism, terrorism and death. It truly is a blessing of the Netjeru that these fools have no concept of how to use magic, heka, or execration ritual prayers.

#kemetic fandom #kemetic #hate anons #secondgenerationimmigrant #in the house of ma'at #sjw bullshit

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rueitae · 5 years ago

Text

Bound

Read my whumptober collection on Ao3

Wild West AU!

~~~~~

The world spins as the ground smashes into Lance’s face. The impact worsens his headache and hurts like a headbutt from Ol’ Kaltenecker, but he can hardly find the strength to really register the pain.

No sooner as he finally manages to place a palm on the prairie ground to lift himself up, he’s dragged to his knees by his assailants. The jerking motion sends fresh, sharp wave of pain through the top of his head and he has to shut his eyes to not throw up at the swirly sights in front of him.

“What’do we do boss? Shoot him? Hang him?” Levidy squeals in delight. “Maybe… maybe we can scalp ‘im?”

Lance groans. An idiot Levidy might be but he’s under no false pretenses that he would shoot Lance without hesitation if ordered. Not that Lance is any less of an idiot, riding out to check on a cattle rustling tip alone.

Catch up on the paperwork, Pidge, then I don’t have to do it, Lance mocks himself. I’ll bring you back a nice steak for lunch no problem!

Even in his dazed state, he hears the train whistle. His heart sinks, even if they let him live, he won’t make it to the station on time to collect the package he ordered for Pidge.

“I think our dear sheriff deserves to go out with a bit more pomp and circumstance, Levidy,” says the leader of the gang. Too smart for his own good, Steelman always seems to be two steps ahead of the law. If he’d just let Pidge come with instead of trying to keep her out of his elaborate surprise...

“Bind him,” Steelman orders. “And make it tight,” he continues almost cheerfully, “he’s proven to be slippery when he wants.”

Lance glares, willing Steelman - blurry as he is to Lance - to drop dead where he stands. Growling, he rises from knee to foot, working for leverage.

Steelman clicks the safety off his custom revolver and points it at Lance. “Let Levidy do his job, Sheriff. We’ll let you do yours in time.”

“I will see you get justice,” Lance vows, though he slumps to his knees, wrists already burning as he tugs at the rope snug to his skin. “You won’t get away with this. Everyone knows the train is coming for this herd, and the time.” He can’t help a smug grin. “You’ll be tracked down before you can take one steer.”

But Steelman’s cruel smile just grows wider and more menacing. “That’s where you’ve provided a surprising boon for us.” The rope winds around his chest, keeping his strained arms uncomfortably close to his body. “You see, trains stop automatically if there is an accident. And you, dear Sheriff, will provide us with that accident.”

The rope tugs in exclamation before Levidy ties it off. It doesn’t hurt, but Lance’s chest constricts at the knowledge of what is to become of him.

Levidy hauls him roughly to his feet and Lance refuses to move, he can at least stall for time in the slim chance someone else is out here. “I’m not going to help you with your insane plan.”

Steelman clicks his tongue in disappointment. “I’d hate to blow your brains out right here, it’d be a pity to sully the wildflowers.” He gestures forward with his gun. “Move.”

Lance stumbles forward, pushed from behind.

He hates being out of control of the situation. The only one he’d ever trust to tie him up like this is back at the office doing paperwork because he was too lazy to bring her along and do it himself when he got back.

Levidy drags him up the grassy hill by the collar of his shirt. Lance barely keeps up, unable to tell what is up or down, his boots and pants scraping on the dirt, throat tight every time he’s pulled.

Finally, he’s allowed to lay on the ground. But this ground isn’t hard like the soil, its distinctly iron.

Rail iron.

“Nice and easy, Levidy, make the good sheriff comfortable.”

Lance tries to focus, blinking rapidly until his head settles. The railroad track goes on as far as he can see - in the distance already he can see the steam from the engine of the Continental Express.

And he lies in its direct path, neck literally on the chopping block when the wheels come rolling through.

He should move, and he tries, but his legs are stuck. Levidy hovers over them with rope - tying him to the track then.

Quiznak, he’s really going to die here.

“Pidge is going to kill you,” he spits - at the very least he has his pride. “I guarantee you that.”

Steelman walks over the tracks and kneels, pistol still in one hand. The madman cups the other under Lance chin, and pushes back punishingly. Lance chokes, his neck strained so far that he can almost see behind him. His captor holds him there, looking him over as if examining golden specks on a rock.

“I think I will miss you, Sheriff,” he says regretfully, though Lance knows its fake. “But do not worry about your little deputy. Her brains will be put to good use once I have her, and if not, there are other ways to put her to use.”

Lance inhales sharply. “Don’t you touch her,” he seethes.

Steelman lightly pats his cheek, as if comforting a small child. “I will take good care of her,” he says cruelly, “I promise.”

“You worthless piece of s-mmmhhmmmm!” Lance yells angrily, as loud and as obnoxiously as he can even after the gag is tied at the back of his head.

“Sweet dreams, Sheriff.” Steelman stands and tips his hat in mock respect. “I’ll toast to you later tonight as I take the train and your deputy to San Francisco.”

Then he leaves, out of sight far too quickly for Lance’s liking.

Lance screams, squirms, twists, every type of movement he can think of to escape, but even as he loosens the rope slightly it holds fast, exhausting him and cutting into his skin.

The train whistle is closer, he can see the line of freight cars rumbling over the hill. Lance struggles harder.

Lance has regrets. Though he’ll die on the job - just the thought of being decapitated this way chews at his insides, not that he’ll be around to feel it much longer - he can’t help but think that he always expected to go out guns blazing like Shiro had, regardless of Pidge’s conspiracy theory that he was still alive.

He regrets not marrying Pidge years ago. Waiting until they could pass the badge on to someone else seems like foolishness when he reflects on it. She won’t even get the postmortem cash from the government - at least she knows where his life savings are kept, she can use that to pick up the search for her brother again.

She’s going to receive the package addressed to him, ring intended for her, after he’s died. Because if he’s sure of one thing, Pidge will be able to outwit Steelman.

The ground rattles and him with it.

The shrieking sound of the train breaking fills the air. It’s stopping, Lance realizes a flicker of hope. But it’s far too late. Even if the Conductor has seen him and applied the breaks he’s still going to die.

Lance breathes heavy and rapidly, because soon he won’t have a head to do so at all. He cries in fear because no one will see him, there is no one to hide from.

The train whistle gets louder. Lance can smell the burnt coals and feels the crackle of electricity from the wheels against the rails. The breaking becomes nearly unbearable in his ears, more shrill than barkeeper Coran singing in the saloon.

The sky goes dark. A wheel brushes up against his neck.

And stops.

No more squeal of the breaks, only the cooling down of the engine.

He isn’t dead. In a rare moment, Lance can’t find his own voice as he stares directly up at the front of the engine. If the train had failed to stop any sooner than it did…

“Lance!”

Against all odds, his deputy and the love of his life jumps out of the engine, her signature green boots pounding on the ground.

Never in his life has he been more overjoyed to see her.

Pidge kneels before him with horrified eyes behind her empty frames, ripping off his gag.

Lance gasps. “How did… you were at the office…”

She flops on top of him, which Lance immediately decides isn’t fair as he can’t exactly hug her back. “Like I was going to stay behind and do paperwork while you investigated something that smelled like Steelman and his flunkies,” she tells him with a choked voice.

“But.. how did you know I’d be…”

Pidge sniffs. “Because he’s a showman. There’s no way he’d pass up something like this when he sees it in the movies. Quiznak, Lance,” she sobs into the rope around his chest. “I thought I was going to lose you.”

Lance laughs, though he feels no humor in it. “I guess I can’t die, not as long as you’re my sidekick.”

Though she still cries, Lance catches the briefest of smiles and a distinct laugh among the tears. “We’ve talked about this, I’m not your sidekick, goofball.”

No more waiting. Not after this far too close for comfort incident. “What about my wife?”

A moment of silence before Pidge raises her head, an incredulous look on her tear stained face. “I just spent the last few hours in fear for you life, you nearly died, and you’re proposing now?”

Lance smiles, pleased to get a rise out of her - the thrill of catching his normally ‘prepared for anything’ deputy off guard. “I can’t think of a better time,” he says, pouring all sincerity into his voice.

Pidge huffs in frustration, but yet she smiles. “How can I say anything but yes if you put it like that?”

He shifts uncomfortably, the soreness of being tied up finally getting to him. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day… but can you untie me before we kiss?”

Lance knows he’s screwed when Pidge gets a defiant gleam in her eye. “You don’t need your arms and legs to kiss me.”

Well, Lance thinks as she leans down and meets his lips with her own, at least the kiss is worth it.

#plance #whumptober2019 #altno.16 #bound #voltron legendary defender #vld lance #vld pidge #wild west au #i feel like i just fulfilled the most classic of tropes #rueitae

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theliberaltony · 6 years ago

Link

via Politics – FiveThirtyEight

Welcome to FiveThirtyEight’s weekly politics chat. The transcript below has been lightly edited.

sarahf (Sarah Frostenson, politics editor): Special counsel Robert Mueller’s investigation into Russian interference in the 2016 election is at long last over. After nearly two years, we have a summary of Mueller’s report from Attorney General William Barr, and that summary, in a letter to Congress, says that the Trump campaign did not coordinate with Russia. What’s less clear is where Mueller landed on the question of obstruction of justice: Barr’s summary says that the special counsel didn’t reach a conclusion, and we still don’t have the report.

This means we can expect a political fight until the full report is released, but how should House Democrats proceed in light of what information we do have? And how this could affect the 2020 election?

nrakich (Nathaniel Rakich, elections analyst): I don’t think it will affect 2020. None of the Democratic candidates was really hammering the Trump-Russia thing. And it doesn’t seem to be a major focus with voters either. In a recent CNN poll, respondents were asked to name what issue will be the most important to them in deciding whom to support in 2020, but not a single respondent mentioned the Russia investigation. And as for the campaign trail, Elizabeth Warren recently said to reporters that she wasn’t getting questions on the Mueller report from voters during events in Iowa and New Hampshire.

sarahf: I don’t know if it’s quite fair to say that 2020 candidates haven’t hammered the Trump-Russia thing at all. Beto O’Rourke did accuse President Trump of collusion with Russia in the 2016 election in a speech he gave on Saturday (before Barr’s letter was public).

natesilver (Nate Silver, editor in chief): Are you saying that it won’t affect the 2020 general election? Or the 2020 Democratic primary?

nrakich: The primary.

There’s more of a chance it affects the general election. But attitudes do seem pretty baked in at this point.

natesilver: On the primary, I tend to agree, although the counter-factual where Mueller finds some huge smoking gun … it seems like things might be different then. At the very least, Democrats would have to stake out a clearer position on impeachment.

It is somewhat telling that none of the 2020 candidates had made the special counsel investigation a particular focus of their campaigns. Maybe you have someone like Beto who has talked about it, or maybe even said a few things he might consider walking back, but it’s not like it’s “Beto O’Rourke, the Russia candidate.”

Eric Swalwell sort of has tried to run on that in the invisible primary, and there doesn’t seem to be much interest in his campaign.

And Michael Avenatti was sort of running on that basis before he encountered … uh … other problems. And there wasn’t much of an appetite for an Avenatti campaign either, with him polling at 1 percent or so back when he was included in surveys.

nrakich: Yeah. Democratic congressional candidates in 2018 won largely by running on bread-and-butter issues, like health care. The 2020 candidates understand that.

And speaking of health care, Trump may have already stepped on his good-news surge from the Mueller report by bringing up Obamacare repeal again.

natesilver: Yeah. I mean, there’s just sort of so much that Trump is putting into the washing machine that both good stories and bad ones sort of all come out in the wash. (I think I butchered that metaphor.)

It’s not crazy to think that the Affordable Care Act could be more consequential to 2020 than the Mueller report. I don’t think I think that, but it’s not crazy. Rank-and-file voters care a lot about health care.

sarahf: But don’t you think that if House Democrats continue to pursue an investigation-heavy agenda, they risk alienating voters?

natesilver: I mean, I think the Michael Cohen testimony was fairly effective for Democrats. It was pointed and dramatic, and it took a day, rather than dragging on for months.

nrakich: And there are other investigations of Trump going on, including those over allegations of campaign-finance and emoluments clause violations.

natesilver: So, like, Democrats have to pick their shots. And maybe the threshold is higher, post-Mueller. But I don’t get the notion that they can’t pick their shots fairly effectively. House Speaker Nancy Pelosi seems to have pretty good control of her caucus.

sarahf: But I guess that’s my question. Will the American public have the same appetite for those investigations? Or do Democrats risk their investigations being viewed in too partisan of a light?

nrakich: I just don’t know that it will matter one way or the other.

natesilver: Remember that the Mueller report itself has not been released. And even though I’m quite skeptical that what’s in the Muller report can be that much worse for Trump than what’s in Barr’s summary, it will affect public perceptions quite a bit if Republicans are slow to release the Mueller report.

sarahf: That’s true — that could work in the Democrats’ favor. (House Democrats have demanded the Justice Department turn over the full report by April 2.)

perry (Perry Bacon Jr., senior writer): Some of the Democrats in Congress are suggesting that the party should broadly back off of Trump-related investigations (not just the Russia probe) and focus more on policy. I think that’s an important internal debate where there will be different views in the caucus. Some members from purple/red districts have never been that excited about an anti-Trump focus, and I assume that the Mueller report news from last weekend will push them even further in that direction.

nrakich: Perry, I would agree with that if I were advising a presidential candidate, but I’m not sure that it’s going to matter what Congress does.

natesilver: Part of me wonders whether House Democrats will investigate Trump more than they “should” in the sense of it being politically optimal just because they have a lot of time on their hands.

They can’t really pass much legislation that’s going to get through the Senate and through Trump. But they sure as hell can investigate.

nrakich: It’s pretty normal for the House to ramp up the investigations under divided government.

And just glancing at the data, it doesn’t seem that the party in control of the House at that time suffered political consequences for it later on.

The strength of the candidates at the top of the ticket is probably what’s going to dictate if those red-district Democrats keep their seats in 2020.

perry: I do think the “release the report” argument from Democrats is important. Media reports that Trump tried to stop or stall the investigation are different from an official Justice Department report saying it and giving lots of details.

I think the Democrats can only gain from the Mueller report’s release. I’m not saying that it will change anyone’s vote in 2020 necessarily, but it will be useful for the Democrats to have the details out there.

sarahf: But OK, what does this mean for Republicans? How will they use the investigation in 2020?

perry: One way to look at it is that the results of the investigation weren’t great news for someone like Maryland’s Republican governor, Larry Hogan, who has been hinting that he is open to challenging Trump in a GOP presidential primary.

Not that Hogan had much of a chance to begin with, but this closes one potential avenue for a GOP challenger to Trump.

nrakich: Yeah, basically the only prayer for Bill Weld or another Republican hopeful was for Trump to be indicted, AND the economy to tank, AND the pee tape mentioned in the Steele dossier to come out … it had to be a perfect storm.

natesilver: I do want to push back at something Perry said first. Clearly, Democrats would not gain from the report being released if it’s extremely skeptical about anything resembling collusion.

perry: I felt like Barr’s summary was already pretty skeptical, so it’s hard to imagine the full report being even more skeptical.

natesilver: I just think there’s a middle ground where Barr can probably spin things a bit, but if he spins too much, it’s very risky if the report eventually gets released or if details surface through other means (i.e., leaks).

perry: In terms of the Republicans, I think Trump and his allies were going to attack the Justice Department officials who were involved in the Russia investigation and the media outlets that covered the investigative intensely no matter what. But that instinct to attack the media and the group of people who started the Russia investigation will be reinforced by this report.

I think a big part of Trump’s 2020 campaign will be an anti-institutional argument. Which he was making in 2016 too, I suppose, but the anti-media, anti-“deep state” part will be even more aggressive.

natesilver: It’s a thin line, though, for Trump to attack the media while also getting relatively friendly coverage about the Mueller report. And I’m not sure that I trust the White House to walk that line effectively. Like, I think they’ve been dunking a bit too much and not using this report to maximize their standing with swing voters.

sarahf: But just think of the chant at the rallies: NO COLLUSION!

natesilver: It will be “WITCH HUNT!!” “NO COLLUSION!!” like the old “TASTES GREAT!!” “LESS FILLING!!” commercials (dating myself here).

perry: I’m not sure this is a good election strategy. I just think it’s likely to be what happens — hating the media and the “deep state” is going to become a bigger part of GOP politics now.

natesilver: Yeah, and as I wrote a couple of days ago, Trump could stand to gain among Trump-skeptical Republicans who are also skeptical of the media.

sarahf: A key demographic to watch will also be independents and how they respond. As Nathaniel wrote previously, there was some polling that showed independents weren’t against the investigation. But I wonder if that changes or shifts now.

natesilver: Also given the timing of this … the Mueller report is coming early enough that if it had been really bad, Republicans could have considered taking an off-ramp from Trump.

But suppose, hypothetically, that there’s some new scandal. It’s going to take a lot of time to metastasize into something. And it’ll be too late for Republicans to nominate someone else for 2020, most likely.

So they’re probably fairly committed to Trump as their nominee at this point, and that’s likely to start affecting their behavior right away. Not that there was ever much of a chance that Republicans would nominate someone else, but if there was just the slightest bit of daylight, there’s less now.

perry: And you’re already seeing signs of that. Republicans like Nebraska Sen. Ben Sasse, who used to criticize Trump a lot, are now trying to portray themselves as more pro-Trump.

Will it be harder for elected Republicans to criticize Trump when he does more outlandish things? I think so.

Trump has gained more and more control of the GOP over the past two years. And I think he’s strengthened by the ending of the uncertainty that surrounded the Mueller investigation while it was underway.

natesilver: So maybe that’s the simplest effect. It will increase the degree of party unity behind Trump.

perry: Jumping back to the Democrats, there are basically two camps among the presidential candidates. One group says that Trump is bad, but the country’s problems are much broader — rooted in the unequal power that the wealthy and elites wield. (Elizabeth Warren and Bernie Sanders fall into this camp.) The other group says the problem is Trump and to some extent the Republican Party. (Most of the other candidates fall into this group.)

Because Trump has not been implicated by the Mueller investigation (at least based on Barr’s summary of the report), I think we’ll see Democratic primary candidates move toward the Warren-Sanders view. And that’s important.

I’m not sure if Warren or Sanders will win the primary, but it will be interesting to see if their broader vision takes hold within the party.

natesilver: My initial instinct, FWIW, was the opposite — that if the Mueller report has any effect (it probably/might not), it would help the more centrist candidates because Trump will be seen as more formidable now and therefore a higher premium will be placed on “electability.”

nrakich: It’s not a single spectrum, though. Perry is right that, say, Kamala Harris and Kirsten Gillibrand have been running more explicitly anti-Trump campaigns than Sanders and Warren have. But they’re all still lumped together as “progressive.”

natesilver: What about the Booker/Buttigieg/Beto gang, who have been running on a more upbeat, optimistic message?

perry: Electability is a huge focus of this primary. Full stop. But I also think the day-to-day exchanges in this campaign are about policy, and even people like Booker/Buttigieg/Beto

are moving toward more aggressive ideas like getting rid of the filibuster and the Electoral College.

It’s complicated. I feel like the primary is moving to the left on policy but is also really shaped by electability.

natesilver: It does seem like there are four quadrants. On the one hand, there’s “everything is going to hell” vs. “everything is going to be OK.” On the other hand, there’s “Trump is the biggest problem we’ve got” vs. “Trump is just a symptom of larger issues.”

sarahf: OK, so it sounds as though we think the effect of the Mueller report could be felt in two key ways in 2020:

There will be greater party unity behind Trump, regardless of how he chooses to spin the report’s findings (and setting aside the question of whether that’s a good strategy for winning swing voters).

Democratic presidential hopefuls might redirect their focus from Trump to saying the problem is bigger than Trump.

What else would you add?

nrakich: I’d just qualify No. 2 by saying that I don’t really think the Mueller report will have any effect on the primary. Primary voters are already partisan Democrats and have made up their minds about how shady Trump is.

natesilver: I don’t know. There was a mainstream media perception post-midterms, post-shutdown (Remember the shutdown? It wasn’t that long ago!) that Trump was in deep trouble and wasn’t so Teflon after all. Now you literally have headlines saying “TEFLON DON” and scoldy media people scolding other people in the media for underestimating Trump again. So the background climate changes a little bit.

Does it precipitate a change in behavior from the Democratic candidates? Maybe not.

nrakich: Yeah. Maybe it makes Democratic voters more concerned about the issue of electability in the short term. But “electability” means different things to different people. And in the long term, who knows?

natesilver: I’d just say that the Mueller news cycle already feels pretty different 48 hours later. You have some crazy stories — Avenatti, Jussie Smollett. You have the Justice Department taking a new position on Obamacare. You have this controversy over when and whether the Mueller report itself is going to be released. The news cycle moves on pretty quickly.

nrakich: Exactly.

I look forward to summer 2020 when we’re all talking about the political implications of Oprah giving every American a universal basic income.

#IFTTT #Politics – FiveThirtyEight #politics #538 #A FiveThirtyEight Chat

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notwhelmedyet · 7 years ago

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ficlet: The Rite of Deceptibrand

this is a scene snatched from my current WIP, because you don’t need to read that to enjoy this scene of Deadlock’s initiation into the Decepticons. Also because I’m shameless about cross-promotion.

Gen, 3000 words, PG, bit of violence & a lot of political rhetoric.

Deadlock crept down the halls of the undergrid, checking over his shoulder to ensure he had not been followed. He had been to the rallies before, to stand at the edge of the crowd and hear Megatron's words for himself. But today was different. Today Lord Megatron had spoken to him. He had known Deadlock by his old name and he'd cast it to the dust, offering him a new life where he would be needed and where his talents could fight for good. He'd touched his cheek and asked Deadlock for his loyalty. He'd already had it. Deadlock had expected to linger on the sidelines, a footsoldier for Lord Megatron's revolution against everything he hated - the government, the police, the functionists, the mode-creation separatists. Megatron apparently wanted him at the front of the charge.

Pride surged in his spark as Deadlock checked the path for the mark of paint that indicated the correct turn. They had dispersed after Megatron had gathered his recruits. It was dangerous to conduct business close to the surface. Even with the Senate dead, the skies still swarmed with spies. Megatron was a wanted mech and to join with him was to brand yourself a terrorist in the eyes of the government. So he had given directions for the recruits to disperse and travel into the undergrid, to meet again for their initiation.

Deadlock turned another corner and met with a stony-faced mech, Decepticon sigil worn over his spark in a badge of purple. The mech nodded in greeting and held out his hands. "No weapons are allowed in the initiation chamber."

Deadlock nodded his understanding. The unsworn soldiers were not yet trusted. He disarmed himself slowly, a smile playing about his lips as he pulled smaller and smaller guns from increasingly improbable hiding places. Deadlock raised his arms to allow himself to be scanned, then passed through the doorway under the auspices of two huge mining types.

The room was dark, lit from above with a purple glow of light filtering from some chamber above them. There was a great dais at the front of the room with a solid platform of solid metal at the back. A great hammer sat on the platform, Lord Megatron standing beside with his hand resting on the handle. He saw Deadlock enter and nodded, a slow and nearly imperceptible acknowledgement. Deadlock nodded back, unsure what level of reverence was appropriate. The fighters of the pit treated Megatron as a Lord, but his writing spoke of the end of such hierarchies. His speeches spoke of the inevitable but regrettable need for hierarchies in militarized revolt. Deadlock turned to stand with the other recruits, standing silently in anxious anticipation. They shifted silently such that none of them brushed shoulders as Deadlock slotted into place. There were two medics in the room, he noticed, standing just beneath the platform, medic sigils painted on their backs.

Deadlock did not bother to study the mechs around him-he knew them or knew of them. They were the recruits of his city, his resistance, his underworld. They knew him as well, leaving him a bit more space than the other waiting mechs. Deadlock had never set out to make his fellow Decepticons fear him. He'd merely done what he did best. He didn't need the money anymore. Sometimes he could kill just for him, a little bit of vengeance here and there. Rodion hadn't been a safe place to work at a Relinquishment Clinic for many years. And if you worked for the Senate, or for the new upstart 'Prime'...you deserved what was coming to you.

One of the medics moved through the crowd to approach Deadlock, waving him closer. "Lord Megatron requests your presence," the medic said, pointing over to the dais. Deadlock looked up, startled, and found Megatron still staring, considering him. Deadlock dipped his head again in acknowledgement and walked over. He did not see stairs of any sort up onto the platform, but Megatron was a tall mech and would not have needed them to ascend onto the platform. Deadlock slowed a moment, aware of the eyes on his back. He'd always hated an audience. But he took two steps and leapt, landing lightly on the dais in front of his Lord.

Megatron regarded him somberly. "Someone would have offered you assistance."

Deadlock chuckled. "I take care of myself." Then he caught himself, back-talking his general before he'd even been accepted into his army. Deadlock cringed.

Megatron merely nodded. "You will adjust. We are not merely building a movement or an army, Deadlock. We are building a new way of life for our people. One in which we build each other stronger. It is not enough to be individually strong, or we will all crumble."

Deadlock regarded Megatron for a moment. He is always on, isn't he? Megatron spoke as he wrote. Not at all what Drift had imagined when he'd watched those pit fight recordings. "What do you want of me, Lord Megatron?" He asked. The wince that crossed Megatron's face at the honorific was nigh imperceptible.

"I have asked all of you here to swear yourselves to the Decepticon cause," Megatron, raising a hand to his own chest and the badge that rested there. "And to take part in the Rite of Deceptibrand. The ceremony is intimate and requires both loyalty and courage. I find that recruits often need an example to give them the strength to continue. I would have you as that example."

Deadlock cocked his head. "You don't think I might need an example?"

"I don't think you fear anything, any longer," Megatron said, letting his hand rest on Deadlock's shoulder.

Deadlock looked to the hand on his shoulder, then back to Megatron, unknown feelings curling in his core. He hadn't...Megatron wasn't wrong. Besides the anger, there hadn't been much to feel lately. Deadlock had felt himself drowning in the anger, clawing at him like his addiction used to. But there was no one to trust, and thus no one to worry for. There was nothing left saving, some days. He had latched onto Megatron's words when he read them because they spoke of a hope that couldn't be extinguished, a rage that couldn't be quenched. To forsake resistance to nihilism and apathy was the greatest betrayal, Megatron had written, because that was a fighter choosing to snuff out a fire before it could burn their oppressors. Loyalty and hope were drugs Deadlock had not yet tasted, but he yearned for them, craved them in his very spark.

"I'll do it," he said.

Megatron lifted his hand from Deadlock's shoulder and turned towards the crowd, picking up the thread of his speech as if he'd never left off. It was nothing he had not heard before, read before. He'd been devouring Megatron's writings, new and old. But to hear it from only a few feet away gave it a deeper resonance.

"They tell us the Senate is dead and, with it, the oppressions we would fight against. But we killed the Senate. We knew they were dead when we stood amongst their scattered corpses. And we will know the oppression of Functionism is over when we have stood upon its shattered corpse. When there is no sense of what it had been, when we have forgotten what it was like to live in its shadow. We will not yield to those who have lived always in privilege. Who pantomime understanding now only because they fear our rage. Because that rage is poised like a dagger to their necks. We are strong because we are angry. Because we are unyielding. Because we, and they, know that we will stop for nothing less than justice," Megatron thundered.

He lifted in his hand a Decepticon badge. "This is a symbol. It is a thing to which we give weight. In itself it is nothing. A small piece of metal, hammered flat, stamped to shape. The shape? A face, a nameless face that could be any one of us and yet is none of us. We are not pledging fealty to some Prime, to some god, to some nameless thing. We are pledging fealty to us, to our loyalty to each other. You give the Decepticons their worth. You give this symbol its weight. And what weight will you give it? Because I will ask of you to pledge your life. Your body. Your spark. Everything you can give to justice, because no one else can give it for you. Do you pledge this?"

A roar rose up from the crowd, shaking the walls around them. Megatron lowered his fist, still clutching the badge in his hand. "Then today you will all become Decepticons, not just in name, but in action. Deadlock and I will perform the ritual first. Then the medics will assist each of you through it."

Megatron turned to him and laid his hand over Deadlock's chest. "Please, open."

A voice, an echo, a chorus of medics in stark white rooms leveled that same command, spat it back at Deadlock in his mind. But Megatron was not a clinic doctor and this was not an order. It was a request. Deadlock let his chestplates unfold, spark bared to his lord. Megatron kept his hand there, washed blue in the glow of Drift's spark.

Megatron spoke again, voice raised to be heard by the audience. But not the booming oratory that had carried him earlier. "I would take from your spark a piece of the casing that keeps it safe. I would take this thing, most precious to you, that you could form it into a sign of your commitment to our movement. I would do this even though it will hurt. I would do this even though it will make you vulnerable. I would do this for those reasons and for one more."

Megatron let his own chest casing unfold, revealing a spark glowing green. Deadlock froze, transfixed. He'd never seen anyone else's spark before and it was...beautiful. But there, right to the left of the core of his spark, Megatron was missing a narrow slot of metal, cut from that which ought never be cut. Megatron reached down with his other hand to take Deadlock by the wrist and lift Deadlock's hand to hold over his own spark. Not close enough to touch, but close enough to feel the waves of energy beat against the palm of his hand. "We all have suffered, we have all lost to the tyranny of the system that stands. The differences in our suffering gives us strength, the multitudes of our adaptations gives us cunning that they will never have. But this is one suffering we will share, one sacrifice we will all make. We will never be able to understand all the pains of our comrades, but this one shared core, this one hurt, we will all have in common."

Deadlock blinked up at Megatron, the crowd watching them suddenly so far away. There was nothing but the pulse of Megatron's spark on the air on his palm and the knowledge of how close Megatron's own hand stood to his spark, fragile and waiting.

"May I?" Megatron asked.

"Yes," Deadlock said, unsure of what he was expected to say but certain in his answer.

Megatron lowered Deadlock's hand and took a laser scalpel from the shelf beside him. Leaning closer, he whispered in Deadlock's audial, "Cross your arms behind your back and hold tight. It will hurt a great deal, but less than you're expecting." Then he lifted the scalpel to Drift's spark and cut.

It was like fire, it was like nothing Drift had ever experienced. His spark reared back from the intrusion and he jolted once in pain, unable to hold himself still. But Megatron's hand was back on his shoulder, a unmovable force that held him still as the blade made a cut parallel to the first and then freed the casing fragment. Megatron cupped his hands around the fragile thing and lifted it from Deadlock's chest, exposing a slot of Deadlock's spark to the air and leaving him breathless with the pain and emotions he could not describe. Megatron put the fragment into Drift's hand and it was warm, still warm from his chest as he curled his fingers around it.

"You've made it through the first test," Megatron said, a smile on his lips. "You can seal away your spark now." He did the same, frame closing over that green light and leaving them again illuminated only by the lights above. "Now walk to the forge and take up the hammer. Strike the plating until it glows."

Deadlock took a shaky step forward, then straightened his back. He was being watched. He was Deadlock, not Drift. In three long strides he was at the platform and took up the hammer, setting the rectangle of plating down reluctantly. The hammer was heavy, unwieldy in his hand. He raised it above his head and struck. Sparks lit against the fragment along with a crack of heat. Clearly not just a hammer, a source of heat. Deadlock struck against the plating again, watching the sparks dance across the platform in its aftermath. He struck again and then again, letting a rhythm build in his haphazard strikes.

Behind him, Megatron spoke again. "I named you Deadlock. But you forge yourself. I cannot make you into a Decepticon, because only you can do that. You forge yourself anew."

The plating lit to red and then began to glow. Megatron stepped up and thrust a form onto the plating, molding it into the shape of the Decepticon sigil. He lifted the form by the handle and pressed the glowing brand against Drift's plating, branding it onto his frame.

It burned. Oh, it certainly burned. But it paled in comparison to the pain from before and Drift snarled in triumph. Megatron stepped away and Deadlock was complete. Megatron touched his fingers to the surface of the brand, already cooling to take up the purple color Deadlock was so familiar with. "And with this let no one question your loyalty or your devotion because you are Decepticon."

Deadlock let the hammer fall to the platform and stepped to the edge of the dais. He wanted to scream, he wanted to say some speech, mangle his words into something inspirational, he wanted to roar at the crowd in incoherent joy. Instead, he just let his hand linger on the brand on his chest and then raised his hand above his head. The hush broke into a roar, the crowd stomping their feet and hollering. Deadlock let himself be guided to the side of the dais as the rest of the initiates began the rite. The medics circulated through the crowd, opening chests and quickly cutting out slots of spark casings. Some mechs shuddered, some yelled, some's optics overheated and sparked. The first of the initiates was led up onto the platform and given the hammer to make his own badge. Deadlock watched the crowd.

He had never felt whole in this frame before. He'd settled in, certainly. He'd made use of it. Over time he'd made peace with Chasma's frame, easier now that he was out of Dead End and away from people that had recognized the frame and had shunned him for stepping out in a dead bot's body. He'd replaced it in bits and pieces over the years, upgrading parts when he was injured. Never made any big changes, even once he could afford it; it just felt wrong when he was living on borrowed time. But this badge, this was his and only his.

As Megatron stepped forwards to brand the next initiate, Deadlock caught movement out of the corner of his eye. One of the recruits, near the side of the hall. A laser scalpel in his hands, ripped away from the attending medic. The recruit hefted the scalpel and then raised his arm to throw.

Deadlock threw his body in the path of the blade, catching it through the palm of his hand in a hot blaze of pain, catching it out of the air from where it would have struck Megatron in the optic. Deadlock pounced on the assassin. One knee to the chest, an elbow to his neck as Deadlock ripped the scalpel out of his hand with his teeth and pressed it to the base of the assassin's jaw. Deadlock panted, energon spattering on the floor around them. Arm trembling as he resisted the urge to kill this traitor immediately, to snarl and show Lord Megatron that he was something less than a person and incapable of control.

A presence stepped behind him, and Megatron said, "You can kill him, Deadlock. There is no information he can give us."

Deadlock's captive squealed under him but that didn't stop Deadlock from stabbing the blade through his helm. The body tightened and grinned, maniacal. Deadlock watched until its plating dulled to grey and fell limp under his hands, then pushed himself back to his feet and turned to face his lord. "Megatron, sir," he said.

Megatron touched a finger to the back of Deadlock's hand and frowned. "There was no need, Deadlock. He would not have hurt me."

Deadlock shrugged. "I couldn't risk that."

"Thank you." Megatron looked around and waved the medic over. "He would not have attacked unless he had contacts outside. We will have the enforcers on our doorstep. Once this is patched, can you join the guard at the door? We cannot stop the ceremony partway through."

"I can go now," Deadlock said.

"After," Megatron insisted. "You'll do me more good with a gun in each hand." He turned to return to the dais as the medic took Deadlock's hand to apply the patch. "You have already proven yourself, Deadlock, you do not need to impress me."

Deadlock watched him go with hunger in his optics, sure as sparks that that was absolutely what he would devote himself towards doing. Forged anew into something Lord Megatron would respect. He eyed the door where his guns and the imminent threat of intruders awaited. First day as a Decepticon and life was already looking more exciting.

#deadlock #drift #megatron #my fics #ficlets #gay space car robots: IN SPACE #mine #maccadam #transformers fanfiction

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were-cheetah-stiles · 7 years ago

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The College Years - Freshman Year (Chapter 18) -Stiles Stilinski

Author: @were-cheetah-stiles

Title: “The Dead Week”

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, Isaac Lahey, Cora Hale, Derek Hale, Ethan, Malia Tate, Sarah Millin, Hanna Simmons, Mina Van Steenis, Liam Dunbar, Mason Hewitt, Hayden Romero, Lydia Martin, Jordan Parrish, Zachary Pillit & Reader/OFC

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, cursing probably, other stuff? idk.

A.N.: This chapter is long but is also sort of the beginning of the end of this part of the series as their Freshman year is coming to a close.

Summary: The Pack sets out to save Hanna before it's too late.

Chapter Seventeen - Chapter Eighteen - Chapter Nineteen

“Zachary... You're name is Zachary, right?" Y/N squatted in front of him. "I'm not gonna hurt you... Do you remember me?" Y/N pulled her hair out of her face and back onto her shoulders. "I helped you and your girlfriend, Mary, that night in Magnolia Park. Do you remember?" The young vampire nodded his head. Y/N smiled a smile that lit up the room. "Great, great... Zachary, I'm sorry that I couldn't help you more, that I couldn't keep this from happening to you, but I'm hoping that you'll help me now. Will you help me?"

"Yes." Zachary, the first victim of the vampire attacks, from the night when Y/N met Scott and Stiles, said quietly, convinced by Y/N’s sincerity.

"Your friends took my roommate. Her name is Hanna, she has three sisters and parents and grandparents who all love her very much. Sarah and I, we love her very much. She's our best friend, and your friends took her from us." Y/N pointed to Sarah, standing next to Parrish behind the couch. "If you tell us what they've done with her, we might be able to help you get back to your old life. Does that sound fair?"

"Yes." Zachary whispered.

"Why were you following our friends tonight?" Scott asked gently.

"She told me to."

"Who's 'she'?" Scott asked.

"The Queen."

"I feel like this is a horrible idea." Stiles commented, as they stood in the middle of Magnolia Park waiting for the vampires to show. "I know you are basically the undead now, but I will totally kill you if you get us killed." Stiles glared at Zachary, their vampire hostage, who had arranged the meet-up. “Dead. I’ll kill you dead.”

"Here they come." Zachary pointed off in the distance to the group approaching them.

"Scott McCall, I've heard so much about you and your pack... and the witch, a descendant of the first American witches. What a treat."

"You know us, but we don't know you." Scott said, in his sweet, low tone, as he surveyed the group of vampires. A tall, slender, and pale but beautiful woman stood in front, addressing them, as two younger and built male vampires flanked her on either side. He didn't see Hanna.

"My name is Ilyse." She said, her voice melodic and her accent mildly foreign.

"You didn't bring Hanna." You spoke up.

"I didn't think it was a fair trade, young witch. Beautiful, youthful, vital Hanna is precious to you... she's valuable to you. Zachary... well, unfortunately, Zachary, you are expendable." Ilyse smiled with an eerie calmness.

"If you weren't going to trade, then why did you even come here?" Stiles demanded to know.

"Ah, the human friend, you should know something about being expendable..." Ilyse tilted her head to survey Stiles' fidgeting, then turned her attention back to Scott. "We came here with a warning, for you Alpha. You came into our territory, you and your mangy dogs, and your half-pint witch." Her entire demeanor changed, the cordial tone was gone. "We've been migrating up and down the West Coast since before the Europeans built fur posts here. We take what we need and the community looks the other way, but you all... you are the ones that blew this out of proportion and threatened my children. You are the ones who need to leave." Her voice became less melodic, and more demonic and guttural.

"I'm not going anywhere without Hanna." You snapped back.

"Unfortunately, if you don't leave, Hanna will never be returned safe and sound into the arms of her mother and what a shame that would be." She returned to her previous demeanor. She smiled. "Leave now, or more will die, starting with her. I promise you that." Ilyse threatened, as she turned her back on the group and walked back into the night.

"She left me..." Zachary piped up. "I can't believe she left me.... That bitch... vampires don't survive on their own." Zachary began to panic, pulling at the chains around his arms.

"Then help us, Zachary, please." You took his hands in yours and squeezed them. "And maybe we can help you."

"You need to find someone." Zachary was quick to flip on his betrayers.

"Who?" Stiles asked.

"The descendant of the Van Helsing line... She holds the key to killing vampires." Zachary divulged.

"Where is she?" You asked, your eyes widening.

"She goes to Berkeley... That's why we've been spending more time here than we usually would, we've been trying to track her down and get the weapon." Zachary explained, admitting the true purpose of the vampires extended stay.

"Do you know her name?" Scott asked.

Zachary nodded. "Mina Van Steenis."

"We need to break into the registrars office." Stiles said, a mischievous look spreading across his face.

"She's in the Criminal Justice major with me..." Stiles said, as he pulled her file from the cabinet in the Registrars office. "Aaaaaaand she's in your American Government class, Y/N." He said, turning to his girlfriend and handing her the file.

"I guess you guys are going to class with me tomorrow morning." You said, shaking your head, as you looked at the picture on file, and recognized the pretty brunette girl from your lecture class.

You walked through the door and looked for the girl in the sea of people. You saw her, a seat open next to her, and approached.

"Can I sit?" You asked, pointing to the desk next to Mina's.

"Yea, sure.."

"Can you move, I need to sit here... just scoot down a couple of, yea, thanks. Oh you’ll get over it, it's just a seat." Stiles said to the guy sitting on the opposite side of Mina. He glanced over at you, and pointed behind him. “I hate when people take the seat I’ve been sitting in all semester, I’d be so pissed if I were that guy.” You chuckled, shook your head and watched as Scott sat in the chair in front of Mina’s.

"Is your name Mina? Mina Van Steenis?" You asked.

"Uh, yea, do I know you guys?" She asked, trepidatiously.

"No, but we need your help." Stiles chimed in, leaning over the desk in front of him.

"I'm sorry, it's Dead Week.. finals are next week, and if you're all just coming to this class now, I don't think I can help you." Mina answered, a weirded out and annoyed look on her face.

"We don't need help with the class." You replied, lightly levitating Mina's notebook off of her desk.

Mina's eyes narrowed in on you and Scott. "Why don't we take this outside?" She suggested.

The group filed out of the large classroom, through the backdoor and out into the parking lot behind the building. Mina dropped her backpack to the ground, and reached in her pocket, revealing a short, curved dagger in her hand. She took an offensive position, causing Scott to reveal his claws.

"You're werewolves and witches, I knew it." Mina said. "Come at me!" She yelled.

Stiles looked at his friends and shrugged. "Uh, we're good..." He said as he raised his hands up.

"....What?" Mina asked, confused, still gripping the dagger.

"We didn't come here to hurt you.. I am actually in that class with you." You pointed back to the building. "But that's not why we came to talk to you. We need your help."

"Someone told us that you are the direct descendant of the Van Helsings, and I don't know if you noticed, but Berkeley has a bit of a vampire problem." Stiles quipped dryly, circling his hands in front of him.

"Can you come to the coffeeshop with us and just talk to us please?" Scott asked gently.

Cora locked the door of the coffee shop behind Derek. The whole group was there. Lydia had come up from Stanford, and Parrish, Derek, Liam, Mason and Hayden had come in from Beacon Hills. They all sat and listened to Mina tell her story.

"My family has been waging this war against the vampires since vampires came into existence. All of these stupid fucking movies and tv shows nowadays glorify the species, but we remember.. They're feral animals that need to be put down." She snarled at Zachary, sitting quietly in the corner of the room with his head down, trying not to draw her attention to him.

"She's a little crazy.. I like her." Ethan whispered to Isaac, who nodded.

"Mina, Ilyse took our roommate, and we don't know how to get her back." You had your arm hooked with Sarah's. You two had been leaning on each other extra in the past few days.

"If they didn't bring her to your meeting, that means that they probably already gave her The Bite, and there are only two ways to save her now: if she's been bitten and has already killed, she's a vampire now, which means she's gone." Stiles looked at you and Scott; his theory about how the vampires were being turned was correct. Mina continued. "If she's been bitten, but hasn't killed, she can still be saved, but only by killing the one who bit her."

"Thaddeus." Zachary said quietly from the back. "Thaddeus bit her and I, but as of the last time I saw her, she hadn't killed anyone yet. He was one of the ones that you fought in Magnolia Park the night they attacked Mary and I."

"So we have to kill Thaddeus.." Sarah chimed in, getting into the swing of her crazy new life.

"No, no, we don't kill." Scott corrected, getting frustrated with his pack's own bloodlust.

"You have no choice, Alpha. These vampires are not here to negotiate. They came to kill me, and now they'll probably kill all of you just on principle." Mina retorted.

"So how do you kill a vampire?" Derek asked, leaning forward as he sat next to Cora and Stiles on a couch.

"My family created five bowie knives. They were made by witches in France." She gestured to you.

"Original coven witches." You answered.

Mina nodded. "They were each imbued with a drop of virgin blood, and the saliva of a werewolf. The metal was forged by hand by a Hellhound named Daniel." She looked up at Parrish. She hadn't been told much about the group, but she was experienced and trained well enough that she could tell by sight who was what. "They were then immediately cooled by the breath of a Banshee.” She looked at Lydia. “It took years to make them correctly, and as some of my ancestors fell, the bowie knives were destroyed with them."

"How many are left?" Stiles asked.

"Three, and I have all of them." She told them. "You stab them in the heart and then rip off their heads for good measure. Bram Stoker's Draculawasn't a fictional novel, it was a public service announcement." She said. "You need to storm their compound, find Hanna, and try not to get killed. If you help me kill a few vampires in between, great."

The large hoard, plus Mina, stared at the large mansion South of campus, that Isaac, Cora, and Ethan identified as being where they saw Hanna, from a distance. Scott turned to address his pack.

"Stiles, you stay with Y/N, and Lydia, you stay with Parrish. I don't want to kill these things, but I also don't want any of us getting hurt like Cora did the other night. Defend yourselves. Stay in your groups, and stay on the walkie talkies. I have a bowie knife, Zachary, Y/N, Stiles, Liam and Hayden, you're with me. Mina has a bowie knife, Ethan, Cora, and Isaac, you're with her.... and Derek has the last one, Parrish, Lydia and Malia are with him. We're here to find Hanna, abduct Thaddeus, and get out. We'll see you after." Scott nodded at his group, and watched as they separated, surrounding the house. "We're taking the front entrance, so we're going to take the brunt of it. Y/N, have you been practicing your forcefield?" Scott asked.

"Yea, I think if Stiles is with me, I can maintain it, at least for a bit." You answered, gripping Stiles' hand in yours.

Scott broke the lock on the front door and stepped back, allowing you and Stiles to take the lead. You emitted a large force field around you, that bounced the first vampire off of it with ease. Zachary stayed in between Liam and Hayden, who each had their claws up against his spine. They weren't sure if they could trust him, but they needed him to direct them through the house. Scott saw Derek and Mina's groups break through the back and side doors and begin fighting the vampires. Mina was cutting through the vampires with her knife like they were made of butter.

"Scott, there's nothing we can do! We have to go." Stiles yelled, waiting for his friend at the bottom of the stairs. Scott followed reluctantly.

"It's the top floor, keep going.." Zachary directed.

Liam took down a few vampires and Stiles smacked one across the face with his bat, but the bowie knife and your force field deterred most from fighting.

"I'm losing it." You said, the glow of your force field flickering from your hands.

"Then save it for when we have Hanna." Stiles assured you.

"Scott, we got Thaddeus." Derek said over the walkie talkie. "Do you need back up?"

"No, no, get out of here." Scott replied.

"She's behind this door." Zachary directed the group.

Scott opened the door to the room where they were holding Hanna and was bombarded with blood thirsty vampires. Hayden, Liam and Scott went to work clawing and punching at them, making their way through the room. You threw a hoard of them across the room with your telekinesis, only to reveal that they were protecting an older vampire woman, with her incredibly long claws against Hanna's throat. You tried to lift her off Hanna, but she dug her nails in deeper.

"Scott... You have to." Stiles said as he and Liam held the door closed behind them, preventing more vampires from coming in and providing support for the old woman. You hovered over Hayden, who was bleeding from her stomach. Zachary was defending the Pack from the group of vampires that you had put down. Scott looked at you and nodded.

"I'm putting it down, just please, we can talk about this. Let her go." Scott reasoned with the old woman, as he slowly dropped the bowie knife to the floor.

"You foolish mutt." She uttered in a guttural tone. She threw Hanna to the side and charged at Scott. You used your powers to pick the bowie knife from the ground and into the old woman's chest. Scott drove it in further, then dropped to the ground with her lifeless body in his arms. She turned to dust in his hands.

"Stiles, help me get her up." You yelled as you rushed to Hanna's side, taking off your sweater and wrapping it as a bandage around Hanna's neck.

"We've got Hanna, we're coming out." Stiles spoke into the walkie, breaking the silence.

You and Stiles carried Hanna out and down the stairs, with Zachary in front, fighting off those who confronted them, having proven himself to the group earlier. Liam helped a wounded Hayden down behind you and Hanna and Stiles. Scott covered their flank, fighting off any residual vampires willing to take them on. They finally made it outside to where Derek's group was holding Thaddeus.

"Where are Mina and Isaac and Cora and Ethan?" Scott asked, looking around and taking inventory of his friends. He then heard static crackle over the walkie.

"SCOTT! MINA WENT ROGUE. SHE TOOK THE QUEEN." Isaac yelled through the radio.

Seventeen <- -> Nineteen

woo. that was a long chapter.

@alexhmak @dontstopxx @iloveteenwolf24 @chivesoup @vampirepinary @parislight @surpeme-bean @snek-shit @mayahart02 @fuxkdean @teenage-dirtbagbaby @sorrynotsorrylovesome @iknowisoundcrazy @l4life @5secsxofamnesia @lovelydob @vogue-sweetie @awkwarddly @therealmrshale @the-vampire-diaries-all-the-way @twentyone-souls

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dj-syrup · 7 years ago

Text

The Unnamed, Episode 01x06: Left on Red

Ling was jolted awake by a blaring alarm. She went to destroy the thing making the noise and then had to stop herself.

It was an alarm clock.

It was morning.

To be exact, this was Ling's third alarm clock this month. The longer nights and shorter days meant that Ling could no longer wake to the rising sun the way she liked to. The alarm clock was a necessary concession to the reality of having a job that involved being awake before 10, but she still hated them and had already destroyed two of them in violent fashion.

There were perks to living alone; no-one had seen her do it.

Ling rolled out of bed, landing on the floor like a cat, on all fours, stood, and stretched. Her queen size bed took most of the room, flanked by a pair of doors. One door led to a bathroom and walk-in closet, while the other led to the kitchen, dining room and kitchen. The wall facing the bed was made of floor-to-ceiling glass, showing a beautiful view of the industrial park that the SJSF headquarters sat in the middle of. On the right wall was a print of The Great Wave off Kanagawa, and on the left wall was a two-stroke ensō that Zhi had painted herself.

Ling entered her bathroom, ignored the face in the mirror, and chose her outfit for the day from the selection of mostly monochromatic, mostly tight clothing on her everyday rack. (She had a separate rack for formal wear, which she only wore when the situation required it, which for her was almost never.)

While her breakfast, constituted of leftovers from the night before, reheated, Ling checked her mail. A red package, marked in both Mandarin and English, caught her eye.

It was from a contact in China, a resistance spy in the local government of her hometown.

They had found Ling's parents.

"So let me get this straight," said Thomas. "You left China because the government was closing in on you and your friends, right?"

Ling nodded.

"And before you left, you made sure your parents were safe?"

Ling nodded again.

"But they're not safe anymore."

Ling nodded a third time.

"Why?"

Ling swallowed a sob. "I don't know," she said. "That was all the letter said, was that my parents were in danger and that they needed my help."

Donnelly walked over to Ling and put his arm around her. She looked like she wanted to cry, and after a moment when she didn't, Donnelly took his arm back.

Port turned to Ling. "What can we do?" she asked.

"I don't know," she replied. "I need to go back. If you guys can help me, that would be great.

"If you can't, I'll go alone."

"Ling, I need you to listen to me for a minute." Mr. Stewart's calm voice had taken an edge. "What you're talking about is very difficult. China's defense systems are well constructed, and that's just the ones we know about. Getting you into the country is going to be tricky. According to their records, you're already in China, so going back under your own name would be an admission that you had left without permission. This is suicide."

"Mr. Stewart," started Ling, also with an edge in her voice, "I am going back. That is not the question. The question is, will you be helping me?"

There was a pleading tone in her voice, layered over with a sense of grim determination. Mr. Stewart could plainly see that trying to stop her was going to be useless.

"What did you have in mind?" he asked.

Wiping what looked like a tear from the corner of her eye, Ling seemed to perk up for the first time so far that day. "I'm glad you asked."

And Ling outlined a slightly crazy plan to retrace her steps. She wanted to take a boat from San Francisco back to Vietnam, use her fake passport to get into Vietnam, and then work her way across the border and back to her home town.

"It worked once," said Ling. "Why shouldn't it work again?"

"You were lucky the first time," replied Mr. Stewart.

"I don't need luck. I have you guys."

"Need I remind you that the rest of the team is waiting for me to sign off on this hare-brained scheme?"

"We have a chicken and an egg issue here," countered Ling. "I need the team to be safe in this, and you need your team to be safe as well. Fortunately, the answer is in the question. Lend me the team, and I will be safe. Donnelly and Thomas can come with me while Winn runs research here."

"What about Port? Do you need her for anything?"

"I need to get a large number of weapons into Vietnam, which is going to be a logistical nightmare. I trust that she's up to it?"

"You'd have to ask her, but I don't see an issue with it, other than that it's illegal."

"This isn't about legality, it's about justice. Justice for my family, and eventually justice for my country."

"You seem to have an answer for everything."

"I usually have an answer. Whether I bring it to the table is another question entirely."

"Something that we will have to talk about when you all get back."

"You'll let me borrow the team?"

"They have to agree to it. I'm not going to force them to do this. Of course, if the last few minutes of conversation are anything to judge by, you'll have them helping you before I grab my next cup of tea."

"Thank you."

And from the tone in Ling's voice, the steady, even, and serious tone, Mr. Stewart knew she meant it.

"I'm not doing it." Ling had succeeded in convincing everyone on the team, except for Port.

"Why not?" asked Ling.

"I am not going to smuggle weapons into Vietnam for you."

"Why not?"

"BECAUSE IT'S ILLEGAL!"

"Then I'll tell you the same thing I told Mr. Stewart. This isn't about legality, it's about doing the right thing."

"I don't know what the right thing here is, but I'm pretty sure weapons smuggling isn't it. Why haven't we gotten the State Department involved yet?"

"How about this," suggested Ling, ignoring Port's jab. "How about, instead of smuggling weapons with us, we buy whatever weapons we need when we get to Vietnam."

"That I can live with."

"So we have a deal then?"

"We have a deal."

And they shook on it.

Finding flights into Vietnam was relatively simple. Ling was able to use a real passport this time, as opposed to the fake one the last time she came through Vietnam.

After clearing customs, they set about finding weapons and a place to sleep.

"I found you an underground gun market," said Winn. "It's full of murder weapons and sleazy characters if the translation of the page I'm reading is correct. You're probably looking at anywhere from 20 million to 100 million dong per gun."

Donnelly gave a low whistle -- that was roughly $1,000 to $5,000, a lot for a gun in the states.

"That's okay," replied Ling. "We'll probably only need two guns, a sidearm for me and something beefier for Donnelly over here."

"I'll have the money wired over to your local account," said Port.

Once they had holed up in what amounted to a local hotel, Ling rolled a map across the table and plotted their journey.

"We can drive most of the way to the Chinese border," started Ling, "although the train might be faster. It depends on how much rain they've had here lately."

"Once we get to the border, then what do we do?" asked Thomas.

"We'll cross it. The border in that area is way up in the mountains, and so it is only lightly patrolled. They expect most people to freeze before they reach the border."

"Do we have the gear to handle that?" asked Donnelly.

"Yes," replied Ling, without skipping a beat. "Once we're across the border there's a town a few miles out that I have a friend in. We can get you some clothes that will make you stand out less. Of course, two European men traveling with a local woman? That will draw some attention. You'll need to talk as little as possible and hide your faces if you can."

"Why am I crossing the border with you?" asked Thomas. "Once you're across, you won't need me anymore."

"Are you guys going to let me finish explaining?"

When Ling was met with silence, she continued.

"From that village, we can make our way back to my hometown."

"How are we-" A look from Ling shut Donnelly up.

"My contact will be probably be gone by the time we get there, but my family should still be safe. We can get them out of there the same way we got in."

"Sounds like a solid plan," said Donnelly.

"I would hope so," said Port, who had been listening the whole time. "We made it together. We even have outfits put together for you."

Donnelly and Thomas looked at each other with a dumbfounded expression on both of their faces.

The night before Ling, Donnelly, and Thomas left Ho Chi Minh City, Ling got a late night craving for potato chips.

While on her way back to the hotel room, a man on the side of the road catcalled to her.

"Hey, whore," he said, in Vietnamese, "How much for some of that booty?"

Ling froze in her tracks. It was a voice she knew well, a voice that had tortured her the last time she was in this city. He had been one of the clients of the human trafficking ring that had captured her.

This man had tortured her.

Ling, knowing the streets to be unsafe for an unaccompanied woman after dark, had taken her sidearm with her.

She turned around and looked the man full in the face. As she walked over, she noticed that he smelled of wine and was propped up against a doorway. He had a friend next to him who was passed out.

Ling had pointed her nine-millimeter pistol at his crotch and discharged a single round into the pavement between his legs, missing him by less than an inch and cutting him short.

"It is good that you are drunk," Ling said, "for otherwise, I would not have missed."

His buddy, startled with the sudden noise, woke up. He looked up at Ling to protest, but finding himself faced with the business end of a rather large handgun, he very wisely decided to go back to sleep.

She hadn't killed him like she had the last person to make a comment to her along those lines.

Mr. Stewart would be proud of her.

Once Ling got back to the hotel, she shook her friends awake and got them out of bed. The drunkard who she shot within an inch of was no doubt going to start telling crazy stories once he woke up, and Ling wanted to be far away by the time that happened.

"We need to go."

"Why?" asked Thomas, his voice still heavy with sleep.

"Because I almost shot a guy," she replied, "and I would rather not be here when he wakes up."

Thomas nodded, as if this was a perfectly normal thing to do, and rolled out of bed.

Donnelly was already up and going, repacking the gear that they would need into the set of battered suitcases they had already procured.

By the time the sun rose, they were already several hundred miles out of Ho Chi Minh City in a rented car. This was going to be a long drive.

"So, Ling," said Thomas, "where are you at, on, like, the LGBT spectrum?"

"You don't have to answer that if you don't want to," said Donnelly.

"I know I don't have to," said Ling. She was driving. "I'm right at the beginning, actually. I'm a lesbian."

"Cool." It seemed to be the only response that Thomas was capable of giving.

Donnelly punched him, lightly, in the shoulder.

Ling stifled a laugh, something Donnelly had never seen her do before.

"What about you, Thomas?" asked Ling. "Where are you at on the LTGB spectrum?"

"I'm right in the middle, actually," said Thomas. "I'm a transgendered person."

"Cool." Ling had managed to put the exact amount of impressed tone into her voice that Thomas had put into his, as well as enough sarcasm to let him know that they were even now.

"Why didn't you punch her?" asked Thomas, slightly incensed.

"I never hit a girl, unless she hits me first," said Donnelly.

"And what about me? I was a girl once."

"You're not anymore, and you were being dumb, so I punched you."

Thomas had no answer for that.

The splinter of The Unnamed that was in Vietnam had arrived at the last town before the mountains. And they were pretty significant mountains. Not to the scale of the Himalayas by any stretch of the imagination, but enough to serve as a deterrent.

They dropped the car off in the front yard of a farmer Ling knew, knowing that they would come back for it soon. They then pulled the cold weather gear for themselves and Ling's parents out (as well as all the other gear), repacked it for climbing, and left for the mountains.

The mountains themselves were a bit of a pain to cross, but it took a while to get to them. They spent more time trying to get to the mountains then they did actually climbing them.

The stopped at the end of the first day of climbing, pitched their tent and went to bed immediately. Thomas, in particular, was not used to this kind, or any kind, of physical exertion, making the journey tricky for him.

In the middle of the second day, Ling stopped and waited for Donnelly and Thomas to catch up.

"So here's the part of the plan that I didn't tell you about."

Thomas and Donnelly were too out of breath to protest verbally, but their facial expressions displayed their shock clearly enough.

"I'm going alone. I needed you guys to get me here, and I needed your help getting this gear up here. It's all downhill from here, so carrying it won't be hard for me."

Donnelly got a word out. "No."

"You guys won't be safe. You'll stick out like a sore thumb. A pair of sore thumbs.

"I made arrangements with the farmer I left the car with. He speaks a little English, and agreed to trade room and board in exchange for some help around the farm."

Ling's logic was impeccable, as always, and Donnelly and Thomas left.

"And you let her go?" Mr. Stewart was understandably angry.

"What were we supposed to do? She was right!" Donnelly was playing defense as best he could.

That shut up Mr. Stewart for a second. Donnelly caught his breath. "We'll be waiting for her, and if she needs help, she'll call us."

"I guess, if that's what you have to do."

Donnelly and Thomas shared a room at the farmer's house that night.

Donnelly was woken up much too early be his cell phone going off.

It was Winn.

"There was a code hidden in the letter," she said. "The spy put it there. I can't explain it to you without also explaining the intricacies of pinyin..."

"Cut to the chase, Winn," said Donnelly. "What's going on?"

"Ling's family is dead, and by now, so is the spy. Ling is walking into a trap and she doesn't even know it."

Together, the part of The Unnamed that was available by phone made a decision. Ling had known that her decision to leave Donnelly and Thomas in Vietnam was going to be unpopular and was ignoring everyone's calls so that she wouldn't have to hear complaining.

At least that was the going theory. No-one knew for sure.

"Thomas doesn't have to," said Donnelly. "He'll slow me down and we don't need his skill set."

"I agree," said Thomas, with a surprised tone in his voice, as if even he couldn't believe he was saying it.

"You don't know who Ling was meeting up with," said Winn. "What makes you so sure that you can find her before the government does?"

"The government isn't expecting me," said Donnelly, "and they aren't expecting Ling to take the same path back in that she took out. They'll be keeping an eye out in all the wrong places. And besides, I know where Ling is going. She told me on the flight over."

"Fair enough," said Winn. "Be careful."

"I will."

The crossing was easier without the extra gear and without Thomas. Donnelly summited the border in the middle of the morning on his second day of climbing.

Following Ling's mostly obscured footprints through the snow, Donnelly got a basic idea of what path she had taken. He then corrected for the fact that it was almost certainly a false trail; the Ling he knew would not have been that sloppy.

He caught up with her a few miles out of the closest town past the border, riding a farmer's cart.

"Ling!" he called.

Ling's face, which had been contemplating the sunset the previous moment, fell upon hearing his voice. Donnelly didn't blame her; his appearance could only mean that something had gone wrong.

Ling turned to the farmer driving the cart and made a request in Mandarin. The cart stopped, and the farmer detached the cow to let him graze for a minute.

"What. Are. You. Doing here?" Ling's voice was two parts confusion, one part anger. She had told him to go back. He had not.

"I had to warn you," said Donnelly. "We found a hidden message in the letter you got from your friend. You're walking into a trap."

Ling was looking scared now, an expression that Donnelly had never seen on her face before; he knew it from other people though.

"How did you find this?"

"Winn found it. There's a dumbbell cipher in it."

(Author's note: A dumbbell cipher, dear readers, is a way of hiding a secret message in plain sight using a stencil, or mask, that both parties agree to. The stencil, when placed over a letter or news article, covers the extraneous bits of the letter and only shows the secret message.)

"What shape is the mask?" asked Ling.

"Triangular," said Donnelly, "and it isn't perfect. Winn thinks that your spy was forced to write the letter, and had to put the cipher in without the help of a mask."

"What did the message say exactly?"

"Read it for yourself." And Donnelly handed her his phone, with an image of the masked letter on it.

Donnelly watched as the expression on Ling's face went from skepticism to denial.

"No. This doesn't make any sense, and even if it did, my family is still in danger."

"Ling, this is a trap, you are in danger!"

"I am not important. I need to save my family." And she turned to walk back to the farmer's cart.

"Zhi, would you shut up and listen to me for a minute?" Donnelly's voice, though his words were stern and unkind, was soft and pleading. He was begging her for a chance to say his piece.

"What?" Ling was starting to get exasperated with this conversation.

"As I remember it, your parents helped you leave, didn't they?"

"Yes, they did. So what? They need me to help them leave now."

"They knew that helping you would put them in danger. They knew that if you left, you would probably never come back and that if they were ever caught they would be killed. They believed in a free China, but they also wanted you to be free."

Donnelly knew that Ling worked on a basis of logic, and that logic was the only thing that was going to change her mind.

"They knew the risks. They wouldn't want you walking into a trap trying to rescue the bait, even if they were the bait."

"No. This is fake. You guys are trying to trick me." Ling went back to the cart.

The farmer, who had been taking care of his cow, pulled a gun from underneath his robe.

"Zhi Ling," he said, in clipped English, "you are under arrest."

And comprehension dawned in Ling's eyes. This whole thing was a trap.

Leaving the bloody, broken body of the police officer (or whatever he was, Ling wasn't quite sure of that) next to the road, Donnelly and Ling took the cart back to the foothills of the mountains.

Ling cried the whole way there.

To have a hope dangled in front of her, a chance to be safe with her family again, and then to have it yanked away... It was cruel. Ling's heart, cold and frozen as it was, was breaking.

They had climbed to the top, ready to cross the border into Vietnam, when Ling lost her nerve. She sat down, in the snow, and refused to move.

"Ling, we have to keep moving!"

"NO! I am not leaving my family behind!"

"If you go back, they will kill you!"

"If I don't go back, they will kill my family!"

"If you go back, they will kill you and your family! We have to go!"

But by now, hypothermia had set in, and Ling was no longer rational.

And so Donnelly took off his coat, wrapped Ling in it, and carried her in his arms down the mountain into Vietnam.

Once they got into a warmer place, Donnelly set her down and started a fire. He fed Ling the little food he had on his person, and they both warmed their toes by the fire.

"Thank you," said Ling. "In some twisted, broken way, you have saved my life."

"That makes us even. You busted me out of that gay conversion facility, remember?"

Ling stifled a sob again.

"You know, Ling," said Donnelly. "I can understand why you don't like to cry in front of people. It's embarrassing. It makes us look weak."

"Thanks."

Donnelly ignored Ling's attempt at sarcasm. "But it's also freeing. It's cathartic. Some people hold in what they feel for too long, sometimes years, until it breaks out and makes a mess everywhere. You have to let it all out, and sometimes it helps to have a friend nearby."

"They're gone, Donnelly," said Ling, in the shaky voice of someone who just finished crying. "I'll never see them again."

"Oh, Ling, the ones who love us are never really gone from us."

Donnelly and Ling met up with Thomas in the village closest to the border, on the Vietnam side. He had spent the last several days worrying about what had happened and was relieved to see both of them safe.

He also had the common sense to not ask Ling too many questions.

The flight back to the states was relatively uneventful. Their rental car smelled like a dung heap, something the owner of the lot was none too happy about, but they paid and left.

Ling passed the man that she had almost killed in the street while walking to the airport. He noticed her, turned white as a sheet, and kept his gaze fixed firmly ahead. Ling was pleased; he had learned a lesson.

Ling was a bit of a mess for a week or so after they got back. That much was to be expected.

The Unnamed were having another recap meeting, as they did after every mission.

"What did we learn from this?" asked Mr. Stewart.

There was silence for a moment until Winn spoke up. "I learned a bit of Mandarin."

"That's good," said Mr. Stewart, "but not quite what I meant. This mission did not go according to plan. What can we do better next time?"

"A lot of this plan was fairly rigid," said Donnelly. "Our plans need to be more flexible."

"Good," said Mr. Stewart. "What else?"

"I think we take ourselves way too seriously sometimes," said Port, "and I think that makes us less effective."

"Tell me more."

"Well, remember when we were working on finding that girl a significant other?" The room nodded yes. "Well, we were happy. It was nice to not be under so much stress. You guys were teasing each other over the radio. And yes, there were some tense moments, but we handled it well. We need to loosen up a bit, relax a bit. This will make us more flexible as a team."

"Well said," said Mr. Stewart. "And I happen to agree. You all need to relax a bit."

"I learned to let people take care of me," said Ling. Her voice was clear, crystalline, but also like glass; like it would break if she put too much force into it. "Donnelly, bless his big, gay heart, kept me safe while we were in the mountains."

And she wiped a tear away from her cheek.

"Ling," said Donnelly, "This is the other side of being vulnerable. When you show people you trust your vulnerability, you open yourself to their help."

"Ms. Ling," said Mr. Stewart, "how can we help you?"

"I don't need anything right now," said Ling. "I'm just glad to not be alone."

And, without planning to, The Unnamed wrapped around Ling and held her close.

Ling had lost her family, but she had also gained a family. She was an only child, and her grandparents were long gone.

The Unnamed was her family now.

And it wasn't a perfect family, but families never are. They still fought. They still got on each others' nerves.

But at the end of the day, when there was stuff that had to be done, they pulled together and they did it.

That's what families do.

#action #this while probably never happen #but it would be nice #gay #lesbian #transgender #bisexual #intersex #asexual #pansexual #everything else #the unnamed #social justice special forces #movie #tv

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comic-movieheroesranked · 7 years ago

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Cinematic Comic Characters Ranked! (Year 2004) Final Part

After two consecutive years of multiple Comic movies, 2004 took it a bit slow with only five movie releases. Blade returns one last time in Blade: Trinity as well as Spider-Man in Spider-Man 2! We also get a spin on two cult classics with AVP: Alien vs Predator. Finally we also get the debut of two comic characters in Hellboy and Catwoman. Here is our TOP 20!

*SPOILERS AHEAD FOR ALL HIGHLIGHTED MOVIES ABOVE*

20. Drake (Blade: Trinity)

"Kill one man, you're a murderer, kill a million, you're a king. Kill them all, a God."

You know Blade's a badass when Dracula changes his name to Drake just to try to keep up with Blade's coolness. He's the ultimate vampire, yet I thought he was very lackluster (like most villains, honestly). I'm sorry but you're not intimidating if you have to use a baby as leverage on what should be a one on one fight. When the showdown between the two does actually happen, Blade ends up winning to no one's surprise. Not even Drake's, who respects him so much he even helps him out after his death.

19. Kroenen (Hellboy)

*creepy laugh*

So was this guy a zombie made of sand? Because without the armor he looked like a zombie. And he was a zombie who knows how to work a blade. It was guaranteed in the movie that whoever was around when this dude showed up was going to die. He even took on six security guards, killing two of them with their own bullets. Of course I had to hate him when he killed Professor Broom and of course I cheered when Hellboy finally finished him off (I'd also like to point out that Hellboy believes in double tap). I thought this guy was emotionless but right before he dies he starts this evil laugh that's almost chilling. He was easily my favorite to watch die via Mortal Kombat dungeon spikes.

18. Liz Sherman (Hellboy)

"Red, white, whatever. Guys are all the same."

Since she was a young girl Liz has been cursed with the ability to create and control-I use that term lightly-fire. She doesn't quite have a handle on it and seems she can only let it loose after experiencing traumatic memories or being physically hurt. Her destructive fires have wiped out a bunch of kids who totally deserved it and an entire psychiatric ward that totally didn't deserve it. She spent most of her life with the government and wants desperately to be in the real world living a normal life. It's one of the reasons why I think she can't return Hellboy's feelings for her, because she connects him with the facility she wants to run away from. In the end, after she destroys all the hellhounds and Hellboy saves her life, the two finally confess their feelings and share a passionate kiss that literally erupts them into flames.

17. Mary Jane Watson (Spider-Man 2)

"Isn't it about time someone saved your life?"

I just felt so bad for Mary Jane in this movie. Granted, she's doing better career-wise but she's just so in love with Peter and just doesn't understand why he won't be with her when he loves her too. She tries to move on with John, who's like the definition of a good guy, but he's not Peter so we all know how that story ends. I just didn't expect her to be so savage and leave him at the alter SMILING the entire time! I'm just glad that her and Peter are officially starting something because honestly she was already getting caught in Spider-Man's battles so might as well fill her in as to why that is.

16. Whistler (Blade: Trinity)

"Get out, Blade!"

There's a reason why Whistler is the only other character besides Blade to be in every single movie in the trilogy. He's the perfect partner. He knows that it's all about the mission and is willing to do whatever it takes to make sure Blade is successful. His only problem? Dude's getting old and slow. Man it was hard watching him go down when police came in locked and loaded, but I respect that he was still able to destroy all the evidence with every last breath he took. Even after death he made sure Blade was taken care of, because Blade WAS his son I don't care what anyone says.

15. Sebastian de Rosa (Alien vs Predator)

"Only the chosen ones may enter."

The Italian that just kept sending romantic vibes to Alexa through the whole movie. He's also the only one who seems to figure out everything that's going on thanks to his background in ancient civilizations. This doesn't save him from being alien cattle, though, and Alexa is forced to kill him when it's discovered an alien has already grown inside him.

14. Alien Queen (Alien vs Predator)

*Alien screech*

If the Alien Queen wasn't designed to literally kill everything that lives, I might've felt sorry for her. The ancient civilization that worshiped the Predators basically had her chained up so she could do one job: lay alien eggs. She gets tired of this, however, and has her children attack her so her acid blood can break her free. She then fights Alexa and the last Predator to escape to the surface but ends up being dragged into the sea where she instantly freezes in the Antarctic weather.

13. Tom Lone (Catwoman)

"Sorry, lady. I'm taken."

What's cute about Tom is he's already swerving other women when he's only been on like, one date with Patience. Granted, the other woman turned out to be Patience but it's still a sweet gesture. Tom's job as a cop makes things really complicated when he finds out Patience is really Catwoman because now he's struggling on whether or not to bring her to justice (this lowkey makes him Batman). He decides to trust his heart and ends up helping her clear her name and bring the right person to justice. Too bad at the end he just gets a note for a goodbye.

12. John Myers (Hellboy)

"My uncle used to say that we like people for their qualities but love them for their defects."

The new guy! Professor Broom hires John straight out of college to look after Hellboy, even if the other male doesn't think he needs watching. Most of his duties consist of cooking Hellboy huge amounts of pasta and pancakes as well as look after his army of kittens, but when the occasional demon comes around he also helps out with that. Its revealed that Professor Broom hired him because he's dying and needs someone to look after Hellboy when he's gone. How does he do this? BY GOING AFTER HELLBOY'S GIRL! Ok so she's not really his girl, which is why I don't blame her at all for going on the date with him because she's her own person and is allowed to do what she wants but John was foul! He knew Hellboy was crazy about her and tried to get with her anyways! At least he didn't get upset when Liz decides to be Hellboy instead.

11. Hannibal King (Blade: Trinity)

"It's in the meat of my butt, just below my Hello Kitty tattoo."

Who knew Ryan Reynolds would star as Deadpool five years before he was officially cast as the merc with a mouth in the first Wolverine solo film. But really Hannibal King is exactly what I fear Deadpool would be if he was in movie with any other super-hero character. He was extremely annoying, half the time I wanted Blade to just slap the shit out of him every time he opened his mouth. It was like he had a serious case of word vomit. Him being the comedic relief was a tad bit overdone and no, him being shirtless didn't lessen the blow at all. At least we saw him go up against three vampire dogs.

10. Patience Phillips/Catwoman (Catwoman)

"Cats come when they feel like it. Not when they're told."

Let's start this off by saying that Patience Phillips is literally one of the most annoying characters ever. Where's Selina Kyle? Like why'd that change? Was it because Halle Berry's black? Because that's such a cop out. Despite the horrible movie, I actually really liked Halle Berry once she was in the cat suit. She had her strut, she delivered those lines, and looked so visually stunning it's like she came out the comic book. Too bad the movie wastes her potential with useless scenes at a basketball court, dealing with loud neighbors, and doing a random ass BDSM dance at a night club.

9. Abigail Whistler (Blade: Trinity)

"Scream if this hurts, chica!"

Whistler's daughter out of wedlock ended up not falling far from the tree and caught the vampire hunting bug at a young age. She didn't let her father's rejection stop her and joined a team of hunters that helped Blade take down the main vamp, Drake (aka Dracula). She's got killer aim with a bow and is bound to get even more bad ass with Blade basically taking her under his wing like her father did with him.

8. Predators (Alien vs Predator)

*Predator clicking*

Three young Predators show up to Earth to slay a bunch of aliens as of rite of passage into manhood (Womanhood? You can't really tell if there's different genders with them). To do this they trick a bunch of humans to show up so that the aliens can breed the Predator's perfect prey. Two of them go down pretty fast, to the very first alien they come across. One was killed instantly while the other put up a really bad ass fight before falling victim to the same alien. The lone survivor proved to be the more superior out of the three because it's taking down humans and aliens left and right. It teams up with Alexa to take on the big Alien Queen. They're successful, but the Predator dies in the process. It's clan, who was just watching the entire time, appears to take it's body away, not knowing there's an alien-predator hybrid growing inside it ready to come out wreck havoc on their ship.

7. Professor Broom (Hellboy)

"I already know what to call him. I call him 'son.'"

Professor Broom is my dad too, I don't care what anyone says. The fact that he was the only one who saw Hellboy as a baby when they first discovered him and not some red ape they needed to kill really shows what a caring man he is. He raises Hellboy as a son and nothing more. He grounds him, lectures him, and Hellboy knows better than to be caught smoking around him. I thought we were going to lose him because of his sickness, but he ends up getting murdered by Kroenen, although he goes out with the highest class.

6. Dr. Otto Octavius/Doc Ock (Spider-Man 2)

"I will not die a monster!"

One thing the first two movies of Spider-Man did that were really successful were their villains. Once again we have a man with a brilliant mind but this time wants to use it for the greater good of mankind. Dr. Octavius turns into a villain after loses everything he worked and cared for and ends up being controlled by his technical tentacles. His fight scene with Spider-Man on the train was one of the best fight scenes I've seen in a movie, too. I'm glad he went back to his core values, even if he had to sacrifice himself to do it.

5. Abe Sapien (Hellboy)

"If there's trouble, all us freaks have is each other."

Abe was probably my favorite out of the trio of 'freaks'. He was an aquatic humanoid with the ability to know everything about a person or object just by touching them. Looking passed his obsession of rotten eggs, Abe proved to be a very important member of the team. While Hellboy did all the ass kicking, Abe made sure Hellboy knew everything about the thing getting the ass kicking. He's not a fighter, which is proven when he's severely injured by one of the hell hounds. Healing his wound takes him out of the main fight but it doesn't stop him from giving advice to his friends when they need it.

4. Alexa Woods (Alien vs Predator)

"To restore order, the guards need their guns."

Wow it was so obvious that Alexa was going to be the only human to survive this temple full of aliens and predators alike. Probably because she was the only one who didn't actually want to go because of how dangerous it was. She knew how to handle every situation and learned quickly that in order to stop the aliens from reaching the surface, she would need help from the Predators. After she kills her first alien, the last remaining Predator deems her worthy and the two team up to take down the Alien Queen. When the Predator's clan shows up, they let keep her badass sword and alien-head shield. I, personally, would have wanted a ride since the nearest town is a thousand miles away though I'm sure Alexa would figure it out just fine.

3. Blade (Blade: Trinity)

"I was born ready motherfucker!"

I've said it before and I'll say it again, Blade is the ultimate badass! Literally everyone in every single movie of the trilogy got hella worried once they realized they were going up against him. He is the ultimate nightmare of all vampires. In his last mission we see him turn into the mentor as he takes up Whistler's daughter and her team to take on Drake. Of course he's successful because he's a badass and that's what baddasses do. But seriously I could just hear him say motherfucker the entire movie if I could, but I get that the script had to be a little more complex than that. Even though the movie wasn't my favorite, Weslet Snipes definitely ended his time with this iconic character on a very high note.

2. Peter Parker/Spider-Man (Spider-Man 2)

"Sometimes to do what's right we must be steady and give up the things we desire the most."

Our favorite neighborhood Spider-Man is back! Peter is going through a life bump two years after he first becomes Spider-Man. He's broke, struggling in class, and damaging his already fragile relationships. The main reason for all this is because he's putting his responsibilities as Spider-Man before anything else and it starts to take a toll on him. I can't blame him for wanting to quit, it's not easy for someone to give up everything they care about for a cause they didn't really ask to be responsible for. Except, he kinda did. No one forced him to become Spider-Man either so I'm glad he got out of the no-power funk he was in and went back to making the streets of New York safer. And because he went through all of this, he was able to help Dr. Octavius get his morality back, which is something you don't see a lot in the grand dynamics of hero vs villain.

1. Hellboy (Hellboy)

"Second date, no tongue!"

He's big, he's sassy, and he's one of the pettiest people that's ever graced a comic book. Hellboy is exactly what his name is: a boy that came from hell. Granted he's a man now but Hellman doesn't exactly have the same ring to it. What's not to love about Hellboy? He has the best one liners, goes through all the teenage insecurities of liking someone that we all went through, and has a deep passion for kittens. Anyone who is willing to risk their life for a kitten is a hero in my eyes. The main struggle Hellboy has during the movie is fighting the demon he is 'destined' to be. He files down his horns and tries desperately to fit in with society, even if his main reason is so he could finally by with Liz. In the end, after losing his father, Hellboy leads the team to stop Rasputin from ending the world. And he's able to accomplish that by making the choice to not be what's expected of him. To not be a hell demon that will bring about the end of the world. After ending Rasputin and his plans Hellboy goes back to the indestructible badass we all know and love and finally gets to kiss Liz.

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andrewmoocow · 6 years ago

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Steven Universe Secret Wars chapter 10: Forever Fight as One (originally posted on September 23, 2018)

AN: At last the final battle against Thanos has come! It certainly has been a pleasure writing this for all of you to enjoy, and it also warms my heart to see so much love for it. Still waiting for it to be on TV Tropes though. But regardless, I hope you enjoy this and any more stories, Earth-2013 or not, to come! Until then, toodle-oo!

"Did you see how I annihilated Jasper there my love?" Thanos asked Death finally returning to his shrine on Battleworld's moon. "She put up quite a fight, but in the end she had to be put down. It's a shame as well, her gemstone would've looked marvelous on you. In fact, why don't I grant you the shattered remains of the other Gems as a present?" Lady Death gave no answer other than just a roll of her eyes, but the titan took it as a sign. "It may not be spoken, but I still count it as attention." he stated before he heard the rattling of chains and turned to discover Nebula, now free from her restraints and looking absolutely furious. "YOU!" "Nebula, I see you have managed to escape. Exquisite work, but not as much as when I would pit you against your sister." Thanos commended his daughter but he was met with a hateful laugh from his daughter. "You fool! Do you truly think Death will ever love you?! Besides, she's not the only one you should be concerned with right now!" "Let me guess, are you referring to the Crystal Gems?" Thanos wondered preparing to pummel her with the Gauntlet. "Not just those Gems," Nebula answered before looking upward. "them." Thanos had no idea what she was talking about before he turned around to discover a gigantic humanoid man dressed in purple & blue armor with a distinctive horned helmet. This titan was none other than the dreaded devourer of worlds himself, Galactus. "Thanos of Titan, we have come to punish you for your crimes against the universe!" Galactus boomed as several more beings of equal power stood alongside him. There was Kronos the god of time, the embodiment of the very universe itself known as Eternity, the physical forms of life, death, love & hate, the mysterious Uatu the Watcher, a pair of Celestials and the Living Tribunal. "Your abuse of the Infinity Gauntlet's power has gone too far Thanos." Uatu scolded the titan. "If this keeps going on, then the whole universe will become beyond saving! And all for to satisfy both your twisted delusions of balance and your love for Death." "Do you realize who I am? I have made the Diamonds my slaves, made a fool out of Mephisto, reduced one of Gemkind's strongest warriors to gravel and I also have a secret weapon hidden inside my moon!" Thanos bragged preparing to send them all off with a snap of his fingers. "Yet it seems your efforts were all for nothing." the Stranger declared bringing attention to a certain alliance of champions. "Look." The Stranger then produced a holographic image of the Crystal Gems, the Avengers, the Guardians of the Galaxy, Starfox, Silver Surfer, Loki and the Diamonds all marching toward Thanos's statue, ready for a final fight. "I never thought I would see the day the Crystal Gems would ally themselves with their former superiors, and I'm the god of time." Kronos commented. "It cannot be! This shall not stand!" Thanos boomed furiously, on the verge of snapping even. "I shall have to do it myself, and I refuse to let you interfere." With one finger click, the cosmic hierarchy found themselves fading into dust. "How is this even possible?!" Uatu exclaimed before he finally disappeared. "You can make us fade into dust all you want titan, but mark my words you shall receive justice!" Galactus shouted as he, along with the rest of the deities, finally disappeared. Nebula gaped in horror at the sight of such powerful beings falling to the power of her father before her shock turned to frothing rage and she charged at the titan with her arms as the only available weapon she had. Suddenly, the Luphomoid found herself grabbed by the neck and met with the furious glare of Thanos. He gave no word before carelessly tossing her as far as he can off the moon. "These fools dare take up arms against their savior, rushing head-on into their destiny." Thanos began monologuing to himself. "So I shall provide them with death only deserving of a true warrior. There will be nothing but dust and blood but in the end, balance shall stand triumphant." With a single gesture, Thanos's throne zoomed out of the temple and he sat down, with Death still by his side. Clenching his fist, the Space Stone created a portal that led Thanos down to Battleworld, where he hoped to settle things once and for all.

On the patchwork planet itself, the Ultimate Alliance charged across Battleworld toward the statue of their despised shared enemy. Led by Steven Universe, Captain America, Yellow Diamond, Star-Lord, Gamora and Starfox, this uneasy team-up sought to end the Mad Titan's reign of terror and keep the universe from falling apart under his gold-plated fist.

"Come out wherever you are big guy! You ready for a rematch?!" Amethyst challenged readying her whip. "Hold on there Amethyst, we still gotta hold the line til Tony and the others get there!" Cap explained before contacting his iron teammate through an earpiece. "Stark, how are you, Pearl, Bismuth, Lapis, Peridot, Thor, Rocket and Groot holding up?" "Doing okay Rogers. Still having a few difficulties though." Iron Man replied on the other end in the beach house before an explosion sounded. "I am Groot!" Groot exclaimed trying to put on the fire on his body. "Don't worry, I got you!" Lapis exclaimed putting out the flames. "So what are they building again?" Hawkeye wondered. "A god killer, Tony said." Steve replied ending the call. "Hopefully they get here soon. Thanos doesn't like it when a challenge is kept waiting." "Why are you so insistent that we shall win against Thanos? He's an all-powerful being with the Infinity Gauntlet for your information!" Yellow Diamond wondered showing concern for the outcome. "I've heard that you've defeated him time and again, but how?" With a small smile, Cap sat down at the foot of the statue. "That kind of reminds me of a story from my day. I was only a boy in a library where I learned what it truly meant to be a patriot." he stated. "I was reading a classic by Mark Twain when I discovered a sentence that struck a chord in me. It was so powerful that I memorized it for years to come." "What was that sentence?" Garnet wondered. "That sentence was, 'In a republic, who is the country?'." Cap answered. "'Is it the government which is for the moment in the saddle? Why, the government is merely a temporary servant; it cannot be its prerogative to determine what is right and what is wrong, and decide who is a patriot and who isn't. Its functions is to obey orders, not originate them.'" "What is he even saying? Who is this Mark Twain?" Blue Diamond wondered quietly. "'Who then, is the country? Is it the newspaper, is it the pulpit? Why, these are mere parts of the country, not the whole of it." "How is going on about some Midgardian scribe going to help us here?" Loki asked as the captain continued on. "'They have not command. They only have their little share of their command.'" Steve continued his story while standing up. "'In a monarchy, the king and his family are the country. In a republic, it is the common voice of the people. Each of you, for himself, by himself, and on his own responsibility must speak." Steven looked on eagerly as his hero proceeded. "'It is a solemn and weighty responsibility, and not lightly to be flung aside at the bullying of pulpit, press, government or the empty catchphrases of politicians.'" Rogers kept speaking. "'Each must for himself alone decide what is right and what is wrong & which course is patriotic and which isn't. You cannot shirk this and be a man." "Yeesh, Thanos sure is taking pretty long." Star-Lord remarked. "Yes, but what he's saying is true." Gamora responded. "'To decide it against your convictions is to an unqualified and inexcusable traitor, to both yourself and to your country." Steve stated almost at the end of his speech. "'Let men label you if they may." "He got all of this from Twain? Wow." Connie gasped in amazement sitting down next to her best friend. "'If you alone of all the nation shall decide one way, and that way be the right way according to your convictions of the right, you have done your duty by yourself and by your country. Hold up your head. You have nothing to be ashamed of.'" "So what are you trying to say Rogers?" Amethyst wondered. "What I'm trying to say is that it doesn't matter what anyone says, whether it be the politicians, the press, the mob or the whole world, when they say something wrong is something right." the captain declared. "Our fair country was founded on one principle, to have the right to stand up for what we believe in, no matter the cost. And when everyone tells you to move, it is your duty to plant yourself like a tree and tell them, 'No. You move.'" "And when that tree is planted, there will be someone to cut it down." the booming voice of Thanos suddenly sounded as he appeared from a portal on his throne with Death by his side. "By the way, you should be expecting company." he smugly added just as Nebula landed at the champions' feet, mangled and terrified. "Run everybody! Thanos is refusing to just sit around anymore!" she cried out. "He will purge you all no matter what!" "Enough is enough." the Mad Titan declared summoning his alien armies to his side. "Now we play this game my way." Thanos got up from his throne and descended to the ground preparing for the final battle. "Kill them all." The Chitauri, Sakaarans and Deviants readied their weapons and charged, beginning to clash with the Alliance. Although the champions had the strength of two super-soldiers, multiple powerful Gems, a gamma giant and many more to give them an advantage, the sheer number of the extraterrestrials proved to be just as strong. "Dammit, Stark and the midget should've been done ages ago!" Wolverine cried cutting down multiple Sakaarans with his claws while Vision disintegrated even more of them with a blast from the gem on his head. Quicksilver & Scarlet Witch combined their mutant powers to plow through an entire squadron of Chitauri and the rest tried to fight them off, but for the most part it seemed hopeless. "Someone, help me!" Falcon shouted before one of his wings was caught in a Chitauri glider. Just as quickly, he was freed when Drax tackled the Chitauri and stabbed it in the face, causing the glider to crash. "Dang, they're everywhere!" Ms. Marvel said standing back to back with She-Hulk, War Machine and Ant-Man. "Just hold the line until help arrives!" Hank exclaimed growing giant size and stomping on a few Deviants. Meanwhile, Steven, Garnet, Doctor Strange, Captain America and Yellow Diamond managed to find shelter from the attack. "I can't tell if you're insane or love risking it, but that speech from earlier was fairly powerful." the monarch commented. "But how are we going to succeed when there's so many of them?" "I've actually narrowed down multiple outcomes of this war and most of them end with us dying." Garnet explained adjusting her visor. "Only one has everyone alive and victorious." "Only one? How many other possibilities were there?" Steven wondered. "I calculate approximately fourteen million." the fusion stated. "This is only one of them." She kissed Steven on the forehead granting him a vision of one of those futures. He saw every last terrifying detail, from the deaths of Cap & Strange, to Thanos shattering Yellow & snapping his fingers, to his idols like Captain Marvel, Ant-Man, Hulk & Quicksilver and even friends like Amethyst, Lapis, Bismuth and Connie fading into dust. "We've got to make sure that good future is this one." the boy resolved after the end of the vision. "But that still leaves the question of what happens in the now?" "I know, because I can hear it." Steve stated gazing up at the sky as clouds began to form. "Hear what?" Yellow wondered and the captain only said one word. "Thunder." A bolt of lightning struck down on the battlefield, incinerating all of Thanos's minions who dared near it and Mjolnir came flying out of it, taking down the rest before it returned to the grasp of Thor himself, along with Iron Man, Pearl, Rocket, Bismuth, Groot, Lapis and Peridot, who was piloting their self-proclaimed godkiller using her ferrokinesis. The godkiller in question was built out of the Red King's warsuit for the main body and both a repulsor gauntlet & a copy of the Breaking Point as its weapons. Thanos stood in awe but was still sadistically eager to find a new foe as Peridot took the first step. "Hey Thanos, come and fight us you clod!" the little Gem screamed charging into battle with the others following suit, requesting that they have words with him. With a mighty yell, Peridot stabbed multiple of the titan's armies with the Breaking Point and blasting the rest with the repulsor gauntlet. Meanwhile Rocket rode on Bismuth's back shooting all that would try to cross their path. "Y'know, maybe Peridot ain't as bad as I thought!" the blacksmith commented doing most of the physical fighting for Rocket. "Yeah yeah, great big guy! Now throw me, I always wanted to try this!" Rocket shouted and she obliged, tossing the furry mercenary into the air as he fired at will before landing on the ground. "You gotta make me one of those Breaking Points sometime! There's some scores I need to settle." "Uh, how about no?" Bismuth nervously answered before smacking an Outrider in the face from behind. "Haha, oh you're gonna get me one someday!" Rocket declared as he went off on his own. "So I take it that's our cue to lead them all?" Yellow asked stepping out of hiding. "You bet it is! Ready Cap?" Steven boldly proclaimed turning to his hero. "Right Steven. On my mark!" Rogers stated and they both raised their shields to the air with a mighty battle cry of "Ultimate Alliance, assemble!" "So this is where our final bout begins?" Thanos wondered preparing to use one of the Infinity Stones. "Very well then!" With a clench of his fist, all time around him screeched to a halt and everybody frozen in place. Thanos took these precious moments to examine the uneasy collaboration that had assembled to eliminate him and began contemplating. "Who would've guessed the Crystal Gems would ally themselves with their former homeworld to stop me?" he muttered in deep thought. "It's like Kronos said, even he didn't see this coming despite being the god of time. Still, it seems most of them weren't as insignificant as I thought." Stepping toward the frozen Peridot and Lapis, the dark lord continued monologuing. "Despite her small stature, the Peridot is much more intelligent than I gave her credit for. And her terraforming comrade is unbelievably strong to compliment her." Then he stepped forward to find Connie fighting alongside Ms. Marvel, War Machine, Black Panther & Falcon. "This human on the other hand I'm quite surprised by. I didn't realize she'd be worthy to wield that sword." After some silence, Thanos clenched his fist and restored time to normal, to the confusion of the Alliance. "I'm sorry, what just happened?!" Connie exclaimed. "It must be the Time Stone! He's using all six of them against us, we have to stop him before he tries another one!" Doctor Strange exclaimed but he was too late, as Thanos made another clench and a wave of red washed over them, changing them into more unusual appearances. "Good Lord, what's with all this gold?!" Tony asked examining the current state of his armor. "At least you look somewhat normal, look at me!" Pearl exclaimed gesturing to her much more drastically different appearance. "I mean, my skin is all blue, my nose isn't as prominent, and look at my outfit!" "You're right Pearl, you look terrible!" Rocket cackled rolling on the ground, now wearing a green outfit while Groot looked more monstrous than normal. "Behold, I am Groot the invincible! Who dares to defy me!" the tree monster declared speaking more than just 'I am Groot' this time around. "I preferred you more when you only said three words." Gamora snarked. "Gamora, can you please cover up? There are children here." Garnet asked remarking on the warrior's now more revealing outfit while stroking her now longer, less square hair. "Would anyone be so kind as to stop Thanos from doing this to us? I seriously would prefer not lookin' like a male stripper!" Yondu exclaimed bringing attention to his equally revealing get-up. "HULK SMASH STUPID COSTUME MAKER!" a grayer Hulk roared charging toward Thanos and tackling him, ending the illusion and returning everyone to normal. "Oh finally, I thought I was going live with those awful boots forever!" Thor let out a sigh of relief as he was restored to his regular appearance. "Seriously, why the tiger pattern?" Lapis wondered to which her Asgardian friend replied with "I was going through a phase." "We can discuss questionable fashion choices later, look!" Yellow Diamond shouted pointing at Thanos, who had now freed himself from the Hulk's grasp and slowly marched toward the champions with a stoic expression and prepared to try the Gauntlet again. "With our combined strength, we can stop him!" Yellow then fired an energy blast at Thanos, followed by Blue Diamond, Doctor Strange, Vision, Starfox, Iron Man, Lapis, Silver Surfer, Thor, Scarlet Witch, Captain Marvel and War Machine joining her in trying to push the titan back. But he remained unaffected, using the Power Stone to project an energy barrier and continued stepping forth closer to the thirteen before smashing his golden fist to the ground and creating shockwaves that knocked every last one of them down. "You thought more would be merrier, but allow me to provide a counterargument." Thanos declared making the Soul & Mind Stones glow before he suddenly vanished into thin air. "W-where did he go?" Connie wondered confused at what Thanos had just done. Suddenly, she dodged an attack by what seemed to be the Mad Titan himself, but he looked much different. He was now more skinny and had the Mind Stone in his forehead, not unlike Pearl. Then more Thanos lookalikes spawned and attacked. One had a physique similar to Garnet and had the Space Stone in his left hand. Another was as tall as Amethyst and had the Power Stone adorning his chest. A third was as slender as Lapis complete with the Reality Stone on his back forming a pair of wings. Fourthly was a smaller Thanos clone around Peridot's height who had an Infinity Stone in his forehead as well, this one being the Time Stone. And finally was a Thanos double who had a shield just like Steven's and wore armor on his torso that exposed the Soul Stone on his stomach. "You say the people of your world believe in you Crystal Gems, but will they remember you?" he questioned as the other stone clones made their move. "Insolent coward, you aren't fighting for that blasted Earth or your fellow Gems, you're simply fighting to live!" the Thanos that embodied the Reality Stone scolded Lapis turning much of her water into insects that began crawling all over her. "I can run away sometimes, but this time I'm not running away from you!" the terraformer declared forming her water into ice and stabbing her opponent through his chest, poofing him as if he were an actual gem. Meanwhile, Peridot faced the personification of the Time Stone who had now formed limb enhancers of his own to gain an edge. "You can run from your past all you want, but at the end of the road your destiny shall come!" he declared blasting her out of the godkiller & sending her flying until she grabbed her mech at the last moment, making it tip over and crush the Thanos clone. "Well you can kiss my gravity connector big boy!" Peridot boasted before pulling down an eyelid with a taunting "Nyeh!" "Love can sometimes be your greatest weakness my dear fusion!" the Space Stone claimed catching a punch from Garnet. "Nobody had ever given me that, so no one else shall-" He was quickly silenced by Garnet who squeezed his head with her free hand and took the poofed Infinity Stone. "And you thought you were stronger than me." Amethyst & Pearl fought their respective counterparts, that being the Power & Mind Stones. Unlike their usually clashing personalities, the Infinity Stones fought and spoke in literal perfect harmony. "True harmony is the key to success." they declared in unison. "If you do nothing but argue, then your fate is as good as sealed." "Y'know speaking of harmony, I think it's time we brought a certain someone back into the fold." Amethyst remarked with a knowing wink toward Pearl. "What do you mean? Oh right, Opal!" Pearl suddenly realized. "It's just been so long since we last formed her, I've almost forgotten what it feels like." "What are they doing?!" Power & Mind exclaimed before they paid witness to the return of the archer fusion Opal, her steely gaze piercing straight through their forms and her bow at the ready. "Any last words guys?" she chuckled readying her arrows. They didn't even get a chance to speak before being put down by the tall fusion who then defused back into Pearl & Amethyst. "My comrades may have been eliminated, but the same shall happen to yours." the embodiment of the Soul Stone declared summoning the other stones to his side and fusing them all with himself, restoring Thanos to his whole self. "What else can you throw at me boy?" he challenged Steven. Then suddenly, he felt his arms being tied down by two sets of ropes. Turning his head from left to right, he found his bare right hand restrained by Amethyst's whips & Doctor Strange's Crimson Chains of Cyttorak and the other covered in his Gauntlet by water chains and web lines. "We're holding him down guys, now!" Spider-Man exclaimed before Garnet pounced Thanos, locking his head between her legs. Meanwhile Pearl & Bismuth gravely injured his bottom half with their respective weapons making him wince in anguish. "You got nowhere to run now Thanos. Either drop the stones & come quietly or face much bloodier consequences." Thor announced. "Like that one for example." Peridot, now back in her godkiller, leaped high into the air ready to stab him with the Breaking Point and finish him once and for all. With a mighty jab, the weapon's silver point wedged itself deep into Thanos's torso. "Who's the comic relief now Thanos?!" the little Gem snarled driving the weapon deeper, making the titan scream in pain. However in the midst of his crippling pain, Thanos clenched his fist and used the Power Stone to send everyone flying, freeing him from their grasp and his death. "Peridot." Thanos groaned using the Time Stone to heal all his wounds. "You are indeed correct, you're aren't as much of a buffoon as I believed you were." Stomping toward the damaged godkiller, he ripped Peridot out of its remains, leaving her legs scrambling around trying to flee. The technician thought this could be the end of her, but instead of being shattered, she was instead gently seated on the ground with a tousle of her tetrahedral hair. "When I am done, only half of your comrades shall remain." the titan assured her. "I hope they remember you." With that, Thanos turned his gaze toward the Diamonds. "But first, I have a score to settle with the both of you!" he declared. "I have tried to make peace all those thousands of years ago with Pink Diamond, yet your kind has refused to answer my pleas. For both that and your betrayal, I have no choice but to execute you." "What gave you the right to think you're strong enough to destroy us?!" Yellow cried preparing to strike Thanos down where he stood with her lightning. "This is for Pink you monster!" She stuck out her hand and zapped him, hoping to at least knock him unconscious but instead, Thanos condensed the energy into a sphere in his hand. "Is that the best you got?" With that, Thanos tossed the sphere at Yellow Diamond and electrocuted her, knocking the dictator to the ground barely clinging on to her physical form while she still could. "Oh my stars my Diamond!" her Pearl shouted rushing to her superior's side. "Please tell me you'll be all right!" "I'll be fine Pearl," Yellow groaned. "it's just that fighting Thanos took quite a lot out of me. I think I'm just going to lay down here for a while." she stated. "Two Diamonds down, two more to go." Thanos declared showing Yellow Pearl out of the way to step on Yellow's torso and preparing to smash her gem. "Even Diamonds should beware when bargaining with Thanos of Titan." Suddenly a wave of blue washed over Battleworld, bringing most of the Gems present to tears to the confusion of the superheroes. "Hulk don't get it? Why everybody crying?" Hulk wondered just as confused as his fellow Avengers. "I believe this is called pathokinesis Dr. Banner, aka the ability to control one's emotions." Silver Surfer explained to the goliath. "And it seems to be coming from a mourning, yet absolutely furious source." Thanos was quietly confused for a few moments, wondering why his crystalline opponents had dropped down in tears before immediately realizing what was happening. A positively livid Blue Diamond standing right behind him, and all Thanos felt was pure, unadulterated fear as the Diamond cast a gigantic shadow. "Your reign of terror has come to an end Thanos!" she yelled, her voice much more menacing than her usual soft tone. "Come, answer for your crimes against all Gems!" "I expected Yellow to be my first victim, but you shall provide a worthy substitute!" Thanos challenged her making the Stones glow. "Come and get me!" he shouted. Blue complied by spawning an orb of light that blasted him at full force with a hail of lasers, but the titan remained unharmed as he charged at full speed before propelling himself to meet the Diamond's gaze. The two of them clashed fists, sending shockwaves all across the patchwork planet and kept on brawling. "Is that how strong a Diamond is?! Have to say, I'm impressed." Captain America stated with a grin. "We gotta get outta here, this hunk 'a rock could go all Alderaan on us any moment now!" Star-Lord panicked just as they saw Thanos being tossed across the warzone right into his statue, making it fall over backwards. Miraculously, Thanos survived long enough to find Blue Diamond on the ground still righteously mad. "I am not done yet." Blue coughed barely getting up. "You will pay for everything you have done to us, our home and our people!" she cried. "Then what are you waiting for? Go on and finish me so that I can be with Death." Thanos beckoned her to land the final blow, eager to be united with his lover for all eternity. But instead, he punched her square in her gem, cracking it and knocking her back as well. "Oh no, Blue Diamond!" Steven exclaimed trying to rush to the Diamond's side before Lapis grabbed onto the back of his shirt. "Steven, I know you're a really nice guy, but can you leave Blue Diamond like this? I'm sure she's suffered worse." the water Gem tried to convince him, not even realizing he was gone before it was too late. "There you go, now find Yellow Diamond and a place to hide." Steven ordered Blue healing her gem with his spit. "W-why thank you little one." the Diamond said graciously. "You know, you kind of remind me of Pink Diamond in a way." Steven knew this was a good time to reveal the truth, but simply decided not to as Blue ran off to search for her sister. "If I cannot shatter any Diamond today, then I guess all that I have killed throughout our battles will have to suffice." Thanos mused before Steven stepped up in front of him. "But why?! What do you want to gain from killing so many people across the universe?" "Simple Steven, to save the universe and win the affections of Lady Death." the Mad Titan answered. "She told me that this universe was growing far too big. Too much of everyone, not enough to supply them." As evil as Thanos was, he did indeed have a point. "You mortals pride yourself on your resources to survive, yet time and again you waste them either for your own selfish gain or to destroy all who stand in your way." "So basically you're planning on 'saving the environment' in your own twisted way? Yeah, that sounds pretty accurate." Amethyst chimed in. "And then when the dust settles and all is well, I plan on perhaps taking up agriculture." Thanos continued. "But you can do that right now. Just take off the Gauntlet and we can take you back to Earth to start your own farm." Steven said. "I'm pretty sure that with time, Peridot & Lapis would love to have you as a roommate!" The boy's words fell on deaf ears as Thanos simply didn't pay attention to him, instead turning to Lady Death. "What do you say my bride? Will the carnage witnessed here in this war be enough to suffice our shared philosophy?" he asked the deity, grasping her hand and his knee on the ground. However, just when it seemed like Death was finally going to answer him after so long, it instead turned out to be one word that ensured that from here on out, everything was on a dangerous roller coaster ride to Hell. "No." This was something Thanos had never heard her say to him before, which made something inside him snap before roaring at the top of his lungs. "SO AFTER ALL THIS TIME, ALL YOU SAY IS NO?!" he screamed. "WELL IF I CAN'T HAVE YOU, THEN NO ONE ELSE IN THIS BLASTED UNIVERSE CAN!" The Infinity Stones then began to tear the universe apart in his fury as he used the Space and Power Stones to pulverize the surface of Battleworld's moon, revealing none other than the Cluster underneath. "Now you hideous geoweapon, kill them all!" He tossed the ball of Gem shards down to Battleworld in an effort to destroy the Alliance, but was stopped by Starfox who struggled to keep it from crashing. "Listen bro, she's never going to love you!" the Eternal groaned continuing to keep it above the ground. "Just stand down or there's gonna be big-" Before Eros could finish, Thanos instantly turned him into a stone statue before turning to the rest of the champions and charged toward them. "Steven, watch out!" Bismuth shouted trying to save the son of her former leader and put herself in Thanos's path, poofing her. In a blind fury, the Titan fired a gigantic energy blast at Nebula that nearly disintegrated her before she made one last effort to kill her abusive adoptive father by throwing a dagger at him. Thanos tore the dagger out of his torso & tossed it at Loki, stabbing him in the head and the god fell to the ground dead. "NOOOOO!" Thor and Gamora cried for their adopted siblings and tried to get revenge on Thanos. But his rage made him too powerful for just two beings to take on and within moments, they were on the ground horrendously injured. "What do we do now?!" Hawkeye exclaimed ducking for cover. "Simple, we try fusion!" Garnet commanded. "Steven, Amethyst, you try and stop Thanos! Pearl, you and me form Sardonyx to calm the Cluster!" "You got it!" the two short Gems saluted before they held hands and formed the portly fusion known as Smokey Quartz. "A human and a Gem?! How?" Natasha wondered. "We'll explain later, just let me take care of the grape for a while." Smokey answered before they charged at Thanos. "Hey wrinkle-chin, you feeling a little grounded?" Thanos turned to Smokey Quartz with a loud snarl. "Looks like you need some fresh air!" they joked tying him up with their yo-yos and tossing him around. "Hopefully you don't get dizzy!" However, their puns ended when Thanos shouted "Silence you brats!" and grabbed the yo-yos, the power of the Space Stone pulsing down the ropes before reaching Smokey Quartz, defusing them back into Steven & Amethyst. As Steven fell to the ground and raced to heal Thor & Gamora, he could hear the Cluster crying for help in his mind. "Please...help...us!" the shards all begged. "Thanos...making us...his slaves!" "I know what you are saying Cluster, but frankly you are too late." Thanos declared popping the bubble the Cluster was held in and unleashing the beast within. However, the forced fusion could barely recognize Steven and gave what he could make out as a thumbs up before it plucked Thanos off the ground. "What are you doing?!" the Mad Titan shouted being dragged & tossed around by the superweapon. "You are supposed to be my secret weapon!" "S-Steven...saved us! A-a-and we're returning the f-favor!" the Cluster exclaimed before it threw him in Sardonyx's path, in which she hit him with his hammer. "Thanks for the lift there big boy!" the eccentric showman fusion thanked it before she pounded Thanos to the ground. "You shall all pay for this!" the titan declared and he snapped his fingers, causing the Cluster to start glowing. "Someone...s-save us!" they cried out before exploding, making Gem shards rain all over Battleworld. "Did he really do that?!" Amethyst wondered as the shards fell from the sky. "And this is mine! This is mine too! Y'know what, all of these are mine! Gonna make me a fortune." she heard Rocket mutter while he caught whatever shards he could grab. "Y'know what, the Diamonds can take those Rose Quartzes back because I got's me a new venture!" "Rocket." Steven said glaring at the raccoon. "Okay okay, sheesh. Excuse me for wanting to make money." Rocket groaned dropping an entire armful of shards to the ground, but not before sneakily scooping a small amount of them up with his tail. "How's the view from down there big guy?!" Sardonyx called to Thanos with a hearty laugh, but the titan roared and fired another blast, ending her & turning her back into Garnet & Pearl. "Don't worry, Hulk got you two!" Hulk cried holding out his arms to save the two Gems before they landed in his giant green hands. "Thanks for the lift Banner." Pearl thanked. "No problem bird lady." Bruce replied. "But what can Gems do now?" With a snap of her fingers, Garnet knew what to do now. "Sugillite." she stated with a grin before leaping out of Hulk's grasp and standing next to Amethyst. "Sugillite?" the defective Quartz said before they danced and became Sugillite. "Hey Thanos, you want some of me creep?!" "We should help out too!" Connie suggested grabbing Steven's hand. "Right, come on out Stevonnie!" Steven exclaimed and they formed the fusion in question with Steven's shield & Connie's sword in hand. "Everybody behind me!" they commanded charging toward Thanos alongside the other champions, including a now out of hiding Yellow & Blue Diamond. Unfortunately, they proved to be too weak for Thanos who knocked most of them all down before moving onto Stevonnie. "You won't stop us when we're fused Thanos!" they declared, but they were wrong. Thanos grabbed both of them by the arms and slowly tore them apart, forcing them back into Steven & Connie. "As a matter of fact, I can." "Kids, let's try Stevoter!" Star-Lord cried and the two children agreed, racing into the space captain's arms & forming the part-Gem, part-human & part-Spartaxian fusion. "Ah sweet, laser sword is back baby!" Stevoter cheered charging toward Thanos in a bid to stop him while firing from their laser sword. "Need a lift?" Garnet suggested running alongside Stevoter. "You bet your ass we do!" they replied. "You try and get the Gauntlet offa Thanos and we'll handle the rest!" With that, Stevoter stabbed Thanos in the torso while Garnet tried to remove the Infinity Gauntlet off his hand. "How do you like me now?!" they shouted bashing the titan in the face with their Walkman shield, making it play various songs to further annoy him. "Boast all you want mortal, you're simply just pestering me!" Thanos boomed grabbing the sword by its blade and slowly removing it from his chest. "I know what game you're playing Steven. This is just a distraction while one of your lackeys takes away my gauntlet." "Wait, how did you know?!" Stevoter exclaimed in fear. "This has happened to me before, and I shall not let it happen again." Thanos declared, and with one last blast from the almost-removed Gauntlet, defused Stevoter & Garnet down to their base beings. Tumbling down on the ground, a now scruffled-up Steven found a barely conscious Captain America struggling to get up. "Cap! Don't worry, I got you!" he cried licking his hand to heal his idol. "Thank you very much Steven, but I feel like your mom's powers won't be enough for us here." Rogers stated getting up on one knee. "I've heard from the Gems about how you often feel inferior to Rose because of how much she's done for the Earth. I feel you on that one. Sometimes I feel that I'm just lost in a world that I'm no longer apart of, yearning for a good fight to keep myself away from living a normal life." "Why is that? You seem pretty fine now." Steven said before the captain stopped him. "You only don't understand because you're still a kid. Me, I've lost almost everyone while I was in the Arctic." he continued. "And as for parents, I'm pretty sure most of us can relate. Like for example, there's all the stories that Thor can tell us about his old man. But you, you're different. Rose may have done some questionable things in the past but you can change that by being your own Gem, whether it be a quartz or a diamond." Steve then held out his hand with a smile. "So then, are you ready honorary Avenger?" With tears filling the stars in his eyes, Steven took his hero's hand. "I'm ready Captain." the boy accepted before he hugged the captain, and he returned it causing them both to glow. Everyone else still present watched in awe as the shining mass grew larger and formed into a heroic, stalwart figure with a gaze of solid steel directed straight at Thanos. "Steven..." Pearl gasped in sheer wonder. "Steve..." Bucky added just as stunned. Thanos simply frowned at the sight of this new fighter, wearing a pink version of Captain America's costume with a yellow star on the chest, blue trousers, red sandal boots and carrying Steven's shield. "W-what? Did we just fuse?" the new fusion gasped in astonishment. "Well, no time to contemplate now!" "W-who are you?!" Thanos shouted as the fusion stepped forward while picking up a discarded Mjolnir from the ground. He then took a battle stance with the shield and hammer at the ready with a confident smirk on his face. "Call me the Captain." With a cry of "CHARGING STAR!", the Captain bolted toward Thanos at hypersonic speeds, bashing him in the face with his shield. "STARS AND STRIPES!" he added uppercutting the titan, sending him flying long enough to give orders to the others. "Fallback company, I can handle things from here!" "Wait, we can help!" Peridot exclaimed. "I SAID FALLBACK COMPANY!" the Captain reiterated yelling. The rest of the Alliance nodded and retreated, leaving the Captain alone with Thanos, who was busy recovering from the earlier uppercut. "Is that truly the best you can do? I'd like to see you try harder!" he shouted gesturing the fusion to bring it on. The Captain simply responded by putting up his fists and declaring "I could do this all day." With a single bound, the Captain rocketed high into the air and zoomed downwards with Mjolnir ready to pummel Thanos. When the Asgardian hammer connected to the Mad Titan's face, the result was a quick but massive thunderstorm that erupted all across Battleworld. Storm clouds began to form over the two before it began raining. Meanwhile far off in the distance, the rest of the Ultimate Alliance watched in awe of the final struggle between life & death. "Wait, Cap's just a human! How is he able to hold Mjolnir?" Amethyst asked Thor. "It's very simple Amethyst, he possesses a pure heart, noble mind and the spirit of a warrior. Forever courageous and with a sense of humility." Thor explained. "And it's possible Steven himself might be worthy as well." The two continued going at it like a furious pair of rival wrestlers or predators fighting over their prey, the Captain continuing to whale on Thanos with Mjolnir & both of his fusees' shields. Suddenly Thanos grabbed the Captain by the arm and flung him into the ground, losing his grasp on the hammer. "You're getting closer to the edge, yet you still refuse to yield." the titan muttered towering over his fallen opponent before walking away. "Wait here, allow me to retrieve the Gauntlet so that I can properly execute you." "NEVER!" the Captain screamed immediately getting up like he wasn't even hurt at all. "I won't let you hurt anyone else, whether they be my friends or anyone in our universe!" he shouted clenching his fist. "I'm giving everything I've got into this one last punch, so you better watch yourself!" Thanos said no words, instead pulling out his stasis gun in response to the fusion's last stand. The Captain charged at him with full force, teeth gritted and his fist preparing to attack. The spirit of all his comrades flowed through him, giving him even greater strength than before as their attacks collided. "FINAL...UNYIELDING...JUSTICE!" As a result of the Captain's punch going inside the stasis gun's barrel as Thanos fired, a gigantic explosion erupted dispersing the storm and attracting the attention of the Alliance. "I think that was Thanos's stasis gun!" Gamora exclaimed before Pearl shoved her out of the way. "Steven!" she cried as the champions all rushed to the duo's side. When the dust finally settled, all that was left were Steven, Captain America and Thanos all lying down on the ground. "H-h-he's dead! Thanos is finally dead!" Thor exclaimed taking back Mjolnir. "Let's just check to be sure." Natasha suggested just as their leaders awakened. "What happened? Am I dead?" Steven asked before Connie hugged him. "I guess I'm not, because you're here!" "So it's finally over, huh? A bit anti-climatic if I say so myself." Bucky remarked helping his best friend up. "Let's not speak so soon. Look!" Steve stated, bringing attention to Thanos slowly rising from the ground, his stasis gun now reduced to hunks of metal and face enraged beyond recognition. "I've had enough of all this! Once I regain my gauntlet, you will all pay for disgracing me!" However, where Thanos expected to find the Infinity Gauntlet, he instead touched nothing. "Where is it?! Where's the Gauntlet?!" he screamed desperately searching for it. That was when he heard someone slip it on and turned to realize who that was. It was none other than Steven. Steven felt himself surging with power over the entire universe, literally obtaining the ability to do as he pleased with the Infinity Gauntlet. Everybody gazed in shock and awe at the very sight of this one mortal boy carrying the single most powerful weapon in all of the universe, most notably Thanos who's astonishment turned to glee. "Yes, yes! This is just what I wanted!" he cheered in malicious joy. "A young apprentice to turn into my successor! What are you waiting for Steven, erase them all and we can ravage the universe as father & son!" Steven was put in a moral dilemma for a moment. On one hand, he couldn't bring himself to kill Thanos for that would betray his principles. On the other, he can't allow the titan to run free and wreak havoc across the cosmos. There had to be another way to keep Thanos in check without having to hurt him. Then with a bold, stern look on his face, he made his decision. "No." With a click of his fingers, things felt like they were being set right. Back on Earth, Lapis & Peridot's barn and Pink Diamond's palanquin were restored to their former states. All the planets Thanos had destroyed were pieced back together, including Homeworld, and the villains he had made join him resurrected. The cosmic deities were also brought back as well. A few bits of orange dust scattered about were brought together and formed into Jasper's gemstone, which was then immediately bubbled and sent back to Earth. Loki woke up to find he was now alive once more and the knife in his head gone. "What just happened?" he wondered before spying Nebula and even the Black Order revived as well. "D-did he really do it?" All of the Gem shards that made up the Cluster were reassembled and returned to their place within the Earth. Starfox let out a loud gasp as he felt himself rebuilt and un-petrified. "That's some kid." he remarked with a grin. Finally, Thanos felt himself turning to stone from the feet up and grinned at Steven. "So this is how it must end child. I must say, you made the right choice." he stated. "I hope we shall meet again someday Steven Universe. I hope they remember you." With one last satisfied grin, Thanos accepted his fate and let out a bright flash of light. The explosive flash blinded everyone momentarily. But even when their vision cleared, none are quite sure they should believe what their eyes see. Before them had stood Thanos, proud, powerful, ruthless and near heartbeats from victory. Now in that exact same thought moments later, stood the massive titan transformed into solid granite. With one last thought, Steven also spawned a black hole to get rid of Battleworld, sucking in the petrified Thanos as well potentially sending him drifting through parts unknown. Then the boy felt himself getting dizzy. "Oh, I don't feel so good. I think I'm gonna need to sit down." "We can rest later, we gotta vamoose!" Amethyst exclaimed. "Indeed, but what of the Infinity Stones?" Loki asked. "I suggest we divide them amongst ourselves so that they never fall into evil hands again." Thor suggested. "The Crystal Gems shall keep the Mind Stone while Lapis & Peridot shall take the Reality Stone." The Gems carefully removed their chosen stones from the Gauntlet, giving them to Steven & Peridot to bubble. "Meanwhile, the Avengers shall keep watch over the Space Stone, the Guardians get the Power Stone, Homeworld takes the Soul Stone and finally, Starfox shall keep the Time Stone." "Pearl, please remove the Soul Stone from the Gauntlet for me." Blue Diamond ordered her Pearl. "Yes my Diamond." Blue Pearl complied walking up to the intergalactic weapon to collect the Soul Stone and the others soon followed, also making sure to bubble Bismuth’s gem and the Gauntlet itself back to Earth. "So that's it then, we're some kind of Infinity Watch." Starfox commented. "I can roll with that." "Well what are we waiting for, let's move!" Spider-Man exclaimed racing to the Milano. "Apologies everyone, but I feel your ship may be way too small for us." Yellow Diamond stated. "We shall be returning with our own ships." With a single stretch of her arm, a much larger yellow arm appeared alongside a blue one. "I believe this is where we must say farewell." "Bye guys!" Steven exclaimed waving goodbye before Peridot shushed him and dragged him back to the Milano. "Farewell Crystal Gems." Blue Diamond said her goodbyes. "But next time we shall meet, it will be as enemies." Garnet and Lapis shivered at their former Diamond's threat before the Black Order appeared behind them. "Pardon us for the intrusion, but could we perhaps hitch a ride with you?" Ebony Maw asked politely, much to their chagrin. But they still had to be alive for them to eventually be put away. "One side maggot, I gotta fly this thing!" Rocket shouted shoving Peridot out of the way as everybody still present clambered into the Milano. "Okay, you don't have to be so rude about it!" Peridot exclaimed letting Rocket sit down. "All right, everyone hold on!" With that, the spaceship finally took off leaving Battleworld behind as it was fully devoured by the black hole, and started coming close to sucking them in as well. "You got anything that can make us go faster?!" Star-Lord exclaimed. "Makes me really wish this piece of junk came with ludicrous speed!" "Well, I guess this is the end." Pearl stated accepting their fate. "Any final words before we're all sucked in?" she asked the others. "I got just one." Amethyst answered. "Look!" She pointed at a certain red figure that had appeared in front of the Milano's large window. "Well, I see you're all fine and dandy after defeating Thanos like that." Mephisto commented. "Here, let me repay you for doing so." The demon started waving his hands in a pattern that caused a hellish portal to appear around the Milano, spooking the Crystal Gems. "What's going on, what's he gonna do to us?!" Steven cried. "Fear not, I recognize those hand motions from anywhere." Doctor Strange stated. "He is perhaps creating a portal for us to return to Earth safely." "But why? He's freaking Mephisto!" Parker shouted. "It's like he said, this must be his way of thanking us for taking care of Thanos for him." Kamala chimed in when they all felt the craft rumble. "Oh no, brace yourselves!" Steven and Connie closed their eyes tight and held each other close, fearing the worst as the starry background of space was replaced by pure red.

Before any of them knew it, they could hear the calm ocean waves and seagulls squawking over them. This had to be it. They were finally home. There was no doubt, only Earth could have a combination of those calming sounds. There was dead silence between the heroes as they departed the Milano with the Black Order still onboard. It only took a few days to struggle against Thanos, but it felt like years. Suddenly, all the people of Beach City came stampeding toward them, happy that their beloved Gems were in one piece. There were reunions all around. Connie's parents were ecstatic that their daughter was alive, Pumpkin raced into Peridot's arms and Greg brought Steven in for the first hug he had received from his dad in days. The townsfolk were also excited to meet the Guardians again and even more joyous to see the Avengers with selfies & autographs aplenty. "So little guy, how do you feel about your first Avengers mission?" Iron Man asked Steven. "It was awesome! I really hope we can do something like this again soon!" the boy answered excitedly. "I have to agree. It was nice seeing Rogers & Barnes again." Pearl added. "And it was also nice to meet all of you too." "Oh speaking of which, still have to ask." the captain remarked. "Do you still want to become Avengers?" he asked. "No, I think we're fine here in Beach City." Connie answered. "That reminds me," Amethyst declared pulling out her Avengers ID and breaking it in two. "I quit." "I suppose it's because the Crystal Gems are still your home?" Black Widow wondered. "Yeah, that's exactly what I was gonna say!" the small quartz replied. "It was fun being one of Earth's mightiest heroes, but the real heroes to me are my family." "So be it then." Thor said. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to bring Loki back to Asgard." he announced pointing to his brother, now rolling his eyes with a scoff. "As much as I hate to say this boy, thank you for bringing me back to life." "And if you'll excuse us, we also gotta go fork the Black Order over to Xandar." Star-Lord added. "I hope one day we can all meet again!" Mantis replied excitedly. "What about you Eros?" "Well, I've got nowhere else to go right about now. Mind if I tag along with you a-holes?" Starfox asked. "Sure, the more the merrier!" Yondu accepted the offer. "Though I think at this rate we might need a bigger ship." "Hey, mind dropping me off at Westchester on the way back? I think Chuck might want me for something." Wolverine asked his fellow Avengers. "We'll make a note of it Logan." Clint answered before they all turned to the Gems. "And we'll make a note to-" "See us again! We get it!" Peridot interrupted with a goofy grin. "All right then, Avengers back to base." Steve commanded, then he turned to his crystal comrades. "And here's an Avengers ID. Just in case, if you need us, we promise we'll be there." "Thank you Cap." Steven said gratefully. As everybody parted ways, Thor & Loki to Asgard, the Guardians to Xandar, Silver Surfer to parts unknown & the Avengers back to their home city, Steven looked at the ID he was given and smiled, knowing that this was an opportunity for more marvelous adventures to come.

And that, after many months of waiting, is the conclusion of Secret Wars! Thank you all so much so sticking by me and stick around til the end of the author's notes for a few special Marvel-style surprises. I've already got a whole 'nother trilogy in the works and hopefully you love it as much as Clod on the Run & this one, which I officially dub the Guardians Trilogy. Until we meet again true believers, adios!

"CRYSTAL GEMS RETURN!" the headlines of the Daily Bugle read, much to the chagrin of the Absorbing Man and his partner Titania as they were imprisoned on Ryker's Island. Carl tore the newspaper into paper scraps in a blind fury while Mary nonchalantly filed her nails. "Oh I'd love to get some payback against those crystal chumps, especially their brat!" "Oh chill out Creel. It's not like someone is going to just waltz in and offer us a chance at that." Titania responded before they heard a guard step in. "Creel, MacPherran, you got a visitor!" he shouted motioning for a silver-haired man to enter. When he met the gaze of the two criminals, he smiled and handed them a case file with a lightning bolt symbol on the tab. "I am Truman Marsh. I have a proposition for you."

Far across the country back in Beach City, Steven slept peacefully in his bed for the first time in ages with the Avengers ID given to him kept on his nightstand. He thought he was going to sleep easy tonight when he opened his eyes to find himself in the same black void that he had met Thanos in in his dreams. Fortunately, the Mad Titan wasn't there to greet him. "Greetings son of Pink Diamond." the voice of Lady Death said, much to the boy's surprise. "How did you know?" he asked. "Didn't Thanos tell you child? I know the name of every soul who has lived, died and ever will be. Yet when Pink Diamond was 'shattered', I didn't see her move into the afterlife." Suddenly a toilet started flushing and out of a door came a man in a red-and-black suit clutching his stomach in pain. "Oh God, definitely not eating 372,844 chimichangas in under an hour ever again!" he moaned collapsing on the ground. "Still better than those forty cakes. That is as many as four tens, and that's terrible." "Uh, who are you?" Steven asked squinting his right eye in confusion. "Aw goddammit! If I'm gonna cross over with Steven Universe, does that mean I have to resist the fanbase as well?!" the man shouted in disgust before looking at you, the audience. "And what are you still doing here? It's over, click away! Go find some Amedot or Stony fic to read!"

The Crystal Gems will return.

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giraffles · 8 years ago

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Hellbent

iiiit’s day two! I’ve actually been working this for a while, but finished it up for this week. \o/ today’s prompt is “favorite battle” so how about a BATTLE OF CONFLICTING EMOTIONS. it starts silly but gets feels-y, sorry.

prompt that inspired this is here and from the lovely @writing-challenges-and-prompts

this is set in the modern AU/Lights Will Guide You series!

Hellbent - (Young!Harlock/Warrius Zero)

"We're just friends." Harlock deadpans.

"Friends don't kiss." Kei counters, and she's not entirely wrong.

you can also read it here on AO3!

"We're just friends." Harlock deadpans. "Friends don't kiss." Kei counters, and she's not entirely wrong. "Some friends do. Like the kinds with benefits." Kei is not amused. It shows in the way her dark eyes glare at him, and the unusual force she puts into organizing the papers on her desk. If he didn't know her better, he might have thought her jealous; but Harlock is very, very aware of her preferences for partners, and they don't include sulky ex-Navy men. "I don't trust him," She says at length, "I don't trust any of them as far as I can throw 'em." In some ways that's a roundabout compliment. Kei Yūki may look sweet and possess a slight figure, but he's seen her take down fighters twice her size. And while outnumbered. So really, she could throw them all pretty far, Zero included. And she's not a force to be taken lightly, like a storm at sea, waiting to sink ships and sink hearts. The two of them aren't related by blood, but sometimes he wonders if she isn't another long lost sibling. Kei is overly cautious from being burned one too many times. He can't say he blames her. The world is already cold and cruel, and it's done a number on all of them. She doesn't often share what happened to her in the period between running away from home and meeting up with the Arcadia crew, and he's not one to press her for details. But he knows enough to realize it wasn't pretty and it wasn't kind. So Kei has good reason to be suspicious of anyone who hasn't gained her respect, and it's a hard thing to earn her trust. The only reason she's here in the first place is because Harlock asked her to be. "Tori likes him," Harlock mentions, "I'd say that's a good litmus test." She shoots him an incredulous look. "That's a terrible example. That bird doesn't even like you." "He likes me enough," Though really, that was only because he fed the dumb parrot, "That totally counts." "What on earth are the two of you arguing about?" Marina materializes out of nowhere, a startling and all too common habit of hers. She comes armed with what look like case files, petty grievances they'll need to take care of if they want to keep their jobs. Before he can come up with an excuse for her, Kei is already counting mutiny. "Someone has been kissing the commander in the fire escape." When she put it that way, it made it sound like they were a couple of teenagers skulking around for kicks. Which, maybe wasn't that untrue, but that didn't mean she had to tell Marina of all people. The one person there who had known Zero the longest, who wasn't often found far from his side, and who always managed to look stunning regardless of the situation. Delivering mission briefings or breaking noses, she never faltered or lost her composure. "Oh, is that all?" Marina's voice rang true and calm, yet there was an edge of ice to it, "Anyway, look into these security breaches. We need to know how deep they've gone." Then Marina sweeps away, leaving without another word like a receding tide, barely sparing them a glance. Kei throws her hands up. He shrugs. "You trust me, don't you?" He counters, knowing it's a little unfair to pull that card, because she's never been anything less than devoted, "I know what I'm doing. Relax." Kei grumbles something along the lines of 'I don't know why any of us bother with you', and his phone pings that a new email has come through. It's a very specific notification, reserved for anything from the government server they're all wired into, and he frowns when he sees it's from the same M. Oki who was just talking with them. She's also only a few yards off, there's no reason she needs to be messaging him when she can communicate in person like a rational human. He flicks the email open. It's a curt correspondence, no introduction or signature, just her name attached to the top and his in the receiving field. <If you hurt him, there will be consequences.> Few people can get away with threatening Harlock so openly. There are fewer people who legitimately terrify him. Marina is very close to the top of both lists. "What is it?" Kei asks. "It's nothing," Only quite possibly the shortest and most direct shovel speech he's ever gotten, "We should be working." "You never want to work." She points out, but lets the subject go. He doesn't dare look in Marina's direction. Really, he's not sure how much of a secret it all should or shouldn't be; Zero can be so prickly on a good day, to the point that it's hard to decipher between the officer's normal personality or if he's being an ass on purpose. He's so flighty for someone with a reputation for being loyal and steadfast, shying away even behind closed doors and hidden from prying eyes. He's not even sure where the two of them even stand at this point, if there should be labels involved or it's better to keep it off-brand for now. (Fraternization laws probably don't apply in this case, even if they did, he'd ignore them anyway, because to hell with that.) And yet kissing him is so good that Harlock couldn't resist catching him by the back door that morning. Which of course was when Kei wandered by, nearly choking herself to death on her coffee when she saw them. He's probably lucky Zero didn't pitch him out the nearest window for that one. It's not like it had been on purpose, and they were all bound to find out eventually. It's impossible not to, when they're working and living in such close proximity to each other. And they're glorified experts in espionage, for crying out loud, he could find out everyone's favorite color and childhood pet in twenty minutes if he put his mind to it. If he was really determined, he could probably find every dark and embarrassing secret of every person in a five mile radius, and the whole city if Kei and Ishikura helped. So how were they supposed to keep a relationship of all things under wraps, under the noses of individuals trained to sniff out deceptions and half-truths? Only an idiot would try. Or, someone so stubborn and deep in denial that they ran the risk of drowning. Fucking Zero. Harlock had taken a calculated risk with him, when he had asked for his handler to be the same agent who had spent years trying to bring him to justice, but he hadn't expected this. Because, maybe, he hadn't planned on an infatuation, or half jokingly flirting with him, which may have turned into whatever it is that they've been avoiding talking about. It wasn't Harlock's fault that he was stuck living with someone who was so accidentally attractive. (Except, it was his own damn fault, and now he had to deal with the consequences.) It started as just a way to pass the time, an exercise in seeing how he could get under his keeper's skin, and now he's fallen. Hard. This wasn't part of the plan. None of this was part of the plan. Not that the plan had been fool proof, or even fully baked by the time Harlock had put it in motion. Its still a vague sort of idea, floating about with loose strings he's tying together on the fly, but it had worked out so far. Mostly. Present situation not included. But the plan comes first, it always come first, because he'd die before he'd let a vow go unfulfilled. Even if it was hard to come to terms with the fact that they would eventually be jumping ship, slipping back into the sea once they'd gotten what they came for. What Arcadia members are on this team may not know exactly what's going on, but they're smart enough to realize they're all acting the parts the government wants them to until they're ready to bail, a deception and treason of the highest order. He never said he was an honest man. Harlock sinks low in the office chair. This would have been easier without lingering attachments. And yet had made them anyway, like the idiot he was, repeating the same mistakes over and over again. You would think he would have learned by now, but there was still that stubborn part of him that was a hopeless romantic. At least it would be good while it lasted. Marina couldn't kill him if she couldn't find him.

On his way to the vending machine, Zero ambushes him. Which would have been great if it was for some midday fooling around, but instead Harlock has a snarling totally-not-a-boyfriend to appease. "Who did you tell?" Zero growls. "I didn't tell anyone!" "Bullshit." This is it. This is how he dies. In a back closet of an undisclosed office somewhere within the greater-Boston area. There are worse ways to go, and Harlock always knew he'd kick off young, but it's a little disappointing that it won't be in a blaze of glory. It really isn't fair. "I swear to god it wasn't me," He pleads, "If anything, it was Kei." She probably doesn't deserve to be thrown under the tracks like that, but at the same time, she had started it. If he's going to die then he's not going down alone. And technically he hadn't breathed a word of anything; that had been other people's doing. Zero looks both indescribably livid and so very tired. "I hate you. I hate you both," Zero bites out, "You're the worst." Before Harlock can come up with a defense, or a snappy reply, Zero is kissing him. It's not where he expected things to go, but he's not going to complain either. Zero is hellbent on taking every piece of his being and spinning it upside down, even if that defies logic, because it's alway been Harlock who's taken people on rides. Although, none of those had worked out very well in the end, so maybe it's just as well. This is better than any of them anyway. His hands curl in the front of that dumb Navy jacket Zero was always wearing so he can pull him closer, to cut his tongue on teeth. It's so easy to fall like this. It won't be easy to leave.

#captainharlockweek #captain harlock #cosmo warrior zero #captain harlock fanfiction #cwz fanfiction #ao3fic #au fanfiction #zeroha #it's set in boston because fuck u #also kei is a giant lesbian #just accept it #goddd i need to write not sad things for this #why am i like this #anyway #lights will guide you #giraffles

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jggukz · 8 years ago

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help me escape, please.

genre: angsty, lots of drabble, fluff that can only be seen through a microscope pairing: jimin x reader (first person; idk why i just started writing it like that and didn’t stop) word count: 7k author’s note: this is based on a dream i had. yes, the things in this happened in my dream, and yes i dreamt of jimin. it scared me but yeah warnings: implications of violence

The camp sat in the middle of nowhere, in the barren emptiness of neglect and abandoned souls. This camp wasn’t rainbows and butterflies, telling fake ghost stories by the lit campfire or dancing to campfire songs strummed on a battered acoustic guitar. No, this wasn’t that sort of camp at all.

The Youth Institute of Refinery and Reform was an underground, government-run facility that ticked all too many of the government laws deeming it illegal, but for the past 15 years no one had done anything about it, the cold place continuing to run. With the name being somewhat self explanatory, it was a place where young men and women were sent to smash out bad habits, turn them into perfect people; refine and reform, but it was never the case. It was a place with no emotion, no mercy, no hope for help and no escape, unless the people admitted met the requirements of what was considered “better,” whatever better had meant.

With a place as cruel as this, came people who were against it. My mother worked for the government as a neuro scientist, a psychiatrist of sorts, who was too qualified and in turn too envied to be given the glory of the abilities she was capable of, so in the unfair society we live in, under the watchful glare of the government, she was assigned to the institute to monitor the individuals… Patients that were admitted. She had worked there for a number of years, the number too irrelevant to count, and over the years I would see her also mentally deteriorating from whatever horrors she’s had to encounter within. The place, of course, was supposed to be a secret or at least on the down-low, but when I was 16 I overheard her conversation over the phone with someone by the name of Director Choi, and confronted her about what her actual job was. Since she had grown frail, she gave in and told me everything but warned me that we both could be in big trouble if any information was falsely leaked.

As for me, I was a budding journalist in the middle of college, ambitious in seeking out any juicy information I could get my hands on. I had always hated what the institute had done to my mother, even though she tried not to show it, I knew, so I had nagged her for months to get in so I could investigate and file an article- exposé on whatever cruel actions were being forced on the patients, and to hopefully bring justice to the youth of the world that were held under the grips of the government, and finally after a whole year, I got my shot.

Due to my mothers extensive years in the facility, she had gained a high rank, you could say, within the hierarchy of the institute. With this she managed to get me one week inside, to do “whatever I pleased,” with restrictions. Of course. I should be happy, I mean I am ecstatic. But why am I scared? Thoughts pass through my mind as I pack my duffel bag with what I needed, and I was intrigued by what situations may arise and what I will encounter within, what people I’ll meet and how they are like. With a humph of a sigh, the stuffed duffel bag zipped closed with a final tug, and was slung over my shoulder as I bounded down the stairs.

My mother was waiting by the door, accompanied by two large men clad in all-black suits, equipped with earpieces and too-large sunglasses. A snort accidentally escaped my throat.

It’s like the fucking men in black. It’s ridiculous.

My mother shot me a glare as we made our way towards the all-black car with all-black tinted windows, and I ignored her stare as I flung my duffel bag into the vehicle, followed by hauling my body into the rough leather seat.

The drive was long, taking a full day, as I could see, even through the darkly tinted windows, the sun setting against the purple horizon of bare nothingness, shooting rays of muted warm yellows and oranges in all directions. The air turned cold, an involuntary shiver crept down my spine as my arms subconsciously wrapped over my body, closing tightly around my torso. We pull up in front of a tall grey building, which lacked windows, following that strange stereotype of sanitariums and mental hospitals. I step out of the car, adjusting the straps of my duffel bag to evenly distribute the weight on my shoulder and began following my mother and the two men inside the cold, hard building.

The two men stopped at the first security gates inside the foyer, leaving me to follow my mother in the twists and turns of narrow, dimly lit corridors to her small shabby office and adjoining lab. There was a small rap of knocks on the door to her office just as I set my bag down on the smooth marbled floors, a tall woman with a hard face, dressed in a pantsuit took a step in, silently handing my mother a clipboard. I stepped from foot to foot behind her as she flipped through the pages, analysing the neat cursive scrawled on the pages. She gave a small nod to the woman as she stepped out of the office.

“We have a new individual,” my mother told me, before silently gesturing for me to follow her out the door. Waiting outside, was one of the security guards clad in the murky grey coloured uniform I had seen many staff wearing. “A guard always accompanies a staff member. You must always be with one, please. Don’t stray inside this walls,” my mum said, in a hushed but strained voice. The way she had said it sent chills down my spine and I reluctantly give her a small nod of my head and begin trailing behind her, the guard behind me.

We reached a different room, sort of like a mini infirmary, equipped with a single bed, a small bench with medical supplies and an IV drip ready to be used at the side. My mother instructed me to sit at the chair in the far corner and stay quiet, so I obeyed, fidgeting with my hands in my lap. Not long after, there was a small knock on the door before a young man walked in, accompanied by a guard behind him.

He had his head hung low, stark black hair like a curtain covering his eyes and shadowing his face. Despite the obstruction to his eyes, I could see that his eyebrows were knitted together, his teeth catching on his bottom lip, gnawing at the plump, pink skin. He had a solid build, his shoulders weren’t very square and his body was straight, but nonetheless solid. He was twirling and tugging at his thumbs, feet shuffling awkwardly- nervously, not knowing how to present himself.

My mother started towards him, lightly guiding him by his shoulder as she nodded to the guard to leave. The door clicked shut behind him, as my mum eased the young man onto the edge of the bed and she took her seat across from him.

“Hello, I will be your doctor for your time here. You can call me Rose, I’m fine with informalities. This is my daughter, Y/N. She will be sitting in on our sessions,” my mum gestured towards me and I uncross my legs to give a small bow. He lifted his head slightly to give a nod of a bow, before hastily casting his eyes downward again, but not before I could catch the warm deep brown colour of his eyes, opened large and swimming with fear.

My mother started asking him general questions; name, age, where he was born, where he had lived and similar questions. He answered quietly and politely, always ending each of his answers with a “Miss Rose” despite my mum trying to tell him that just Rose was fine. I sat in the back, silently listening, my eyes casting over the young man seated on the bed, watching as he bit his lip and pulled on his tshirt while my mother talked to him. I didn’t know this guy, but for some reason my heart clenched to see the amount of fear he was in. That was the day I met Park Jimin.

Park Jimin was 22, the same age as me. He was born in Busan, studied dance at Busan Arts Academy then proceeded his education in Seoul until he was 21. That was all the information I had gotten, I never found out how he had come to be admitted to the institute.

After the short meeting with him, walking back towards my mother’s office, the staunch guard following me, I couldn’t stop thinking of those deep brown eyes so wide in fear that I nearly overshot my walking. I took a few too many steps past and away from my mother’s office that I was harshly tugged back, grips on forearm by the emotionless guard. Rubbing my arm, I enter the office and sit at the desk, pulling out my laptop. Opening up a new document, I begin typing. I started with his hair. So stark black that even when the light shined on it, no other hues but the darkest black appeared to the eye. The fringe of it hung low, split 2:3, grazing above his eyes in soft feather-like strands. Then his eyes. The deepest, yet warmest dark chocolate brown colour. Arguably richer than chocolate. Evenly shaped, rectangular and slightly droopy, but had been expanded in fear. His other facial features. Soft, pink and plump lips, always catching in between his teeth. His teeth, a pearly white, one front tooth only slightly crooked giving off a unique charm. His face was a rounded oval shape with full cheeks, yet his jawline had been significantly defined, the shadows below the bone harsh under the blue-light. Then his build. An average height, straight shoulders and figure. He had been slouching in recoil, but his build was noticeably strong.

With a sigh I sit back and stare at the words on the screen. Rubbing at my face, I haul myself up and take a few paces around the room. My mother soon walked into her office and explained to me that Jimin was sent to a room to get rest, and that tomorrow morning I was to accompany him to breakfast.

Breakfast.

Day 2 I woke up with a start to my alarm set for 7am, fumbling at the buttons on my phone to stop the nonsensical ringing emitting from it. Dragging my body out of bed, I made my way to the bathroom ensuite and washed my face. I stared into the mirror, analysing my plain face. I shook my head and left the bathroom to get dressed.

I checked the time - 7:46am - and step out of my assigned room, making my way to a room on a different floor scrawled in my mother’s handwriting on a small ripped piece of paper. When I reached the destination, a guard was already standing by the door. I give him a nod, before giving a light knock on the door. I step back to wait momentarily, and it wasn’t not long until Jimin steps out, his hair sticking up in some parts of his head. Instinctively, I reach my hand up to smooth down the stray hairs, focusing on one strand that refused to stay down. My eyes travelled down to his, and I heard myself gasp as they stared back in curiosity. I hastily drop my hand taking a good step back, smoothing down my top.

“Ah.. Sorry it’s a habit,” I give him a sheepish smile. He shyly smiles back in return, nodding his head in understanding before focusing his eyes back on the floor. “Uh I’m here to take you to breakfast.. Are you ready to go?” He glances at me still donning a small smile, and shyly gives a nod. I smile back, and step aside for him to walk beside me, silently guiding him towards the cafeteria.

7:59am - we were right on schedule as we entered the bustling open space through the heavy metal double doors. Almost immediately after entering, Jimin had begun tugging at his shirt, eyes glued to the floor, the black curtain of hair shadowing his face from the brightly lit cafeteria. I could see him gnawing on his lip again, no trace of a smile anymore. His eyes vaguely expanded and following the lines of the vinyl on the floor. I bit my lip, lightly touching his shoulder. “Jimin? Are you okay?” His eyes met mine, and I saw the same fear I had yesterday. Absolutely terrified and expanded so large in size my heart clenched. “Hey it’s okay, come on.” I lightly guided him to an empty table at an abandoned corner of the large space.

As I sat him down, I never realised I had been subconsciously tracing small circles on his lower back, and swatted my own hand away, sitting opposite to him. I worriedly watched him, analysing the emotions flashing on his face as I saw his shoulders rise up and down. He was hyperventilating. Hurriedly, I rushed to his side of the table and put and arm around his shoulder. “Hey, Jimin. Look at me. Focus on me.” His deep brown eyes searched mine, as his shoulders continued to heave up and down, his breathing becoming more erratic. “You can talk to me, okay? It sounds super stupid for me to say this because we just met, but I won’t let anything bad happen to you, I promise you that. Do you understand me?” And as I pulled him in for a hug, I frowned as I realised I had really meant it.

It was now 5:13pm in the evening, and I was sitting back inside my mother’s office alone, once again staring at my laptop screen and the small blinking cursor begging for me to type more words. I shut the lid down and stared at the clock. It wasn’t another 40 minutes until dinner time.

Before I realised I began pacing, my mind relaying over the events that occurred during the day. Jimin had suffered a severe panic attack, and was hastily given a mild sedative after our short embrace, his hands clawing at my arms, eyes expanded past the maximum as the guards struggled to keep him still. I had remembered my own voice shrieking, “be careful, you’re hurting him!” before Jimin’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and he slumped limp to the ground.

My eyes flicked back to the clock - 5:32pm - There was still plenty of time before I had to take Jimin to the cafeteria again, but before I knew it I was out in the hallway, carefully closing the door shut. I made it to Jimin’s room in less than 5 minutes, and warily eyed the guard down, “May I see him?” The guard looked me up and down, eyes narrowing in suspicion, minutes passing before I squeaked out a please and he finally opens the door.

Inside the room, the curtains were half drawn, only a sliver of light shining through the crack in the linen. My eyes scan the room, stopping at a lump laid atop the covers in the middle of the single bed. I lightly pad my way over to the bed, gently taking a seat on the edge, tentatively reaching my hand out to rest on his back. “Jimin, are you alright?” The lump shuffles and turns around to face me, eyes still on the mattress. He gives a small nod, almost hard to miss, and begins chewing on his lip again. “Okay, well I’m right here. We don’t have to talk, we can just sit here.”

“It was my dad,” I was startled by Jimin’s voice breaking the deafening silence. “Wh- What did your dad do?” “He’s not really my dad. Step dad. He put me here.” His voice was only just above a whisper, as his fingers trace the lines and patterns spread across the bed sheets, eyes following the movements. I didn’t want to ask the wrong questions so I kept silent, donning an encouraging expression to allow him to carry on. “He abuses my mother. She has no control. I tried to stop him. I tried to stop him,” his voice trails off as I instinctively rub circles on his shoulder. “It’s okay, you can take your time telling me. Doesn’t have to be in one go.” He nods, casting his eyes to the far wall, slightly glazed over and out of focus.

I didn’t want to break the silence, but we were already late for dinner call. “Jimin, are you ready to go to dinner?” At my question, he jolts up, distancing himself from me and pressing his back against the wall. His eyes widen and his breathing begins to accelerate. “Please. Please don’t make me.” Surprised by his reaction I get up from the bed and try to approach him, but he flinches away. “Oh no, no no. No, Jimin I won’t make you, I’m sorry,” I took a step back and watched him from a safe distance, pulling at my thumbs in worry. His breathing slowed down, and his muscles relaxed, his shoulders drooping.

“I- I’ll leave you alone now,” I stuttered out, taking backward steps towards the door. “No- Wait. Stay.. For a little bit,” he raises his eyes to meet mine, showing an unreadable emotion, “Please?” Feeling my heart tug at the plea in his voice, I pull up the chair from the desk and sit diagonal to the bed. “You’re.. You’re good to talk to,” he quietly mumbles, “I only trust you right now.” My chest tightens at how small he sounds, as if the whole world was against him for doing absolutely nothing wrong and I quietly sit and watch him playing with the hem of his white tee, tracing the stitching and rolling the edges up and down. He looked so focused, I spare this chance to analyse his face. He had soft features, they were kind. And warming, I didn’t need to see it to know that his smile could warm up a whole room.

After a while, he began speaking again. He told me of his younger brother, who was taken away by his grandmother because she didn’t want him around his violent step-father. He told me about how his favourite place to breathe was this one small beach in his hometown of Busan, how the sunsets there were as soft as the colour of violets and the petals of roses. How the sea air was refreshing, and whipped a healthy glow onto your cheeks. He talked about the small bed of flowers that lined a path he used to walk to and from school, and how he would always pick a different flower to put in his mother’s hair when he got home each day. He talked, and I listened for hours, and before we knew it, the room was silent again. But it was comfortable. Jimin’s head started to droop, his subconscious beckoning him into a slumber. His eyes closed and opened lazily again as he began to nod off. Just as Jimin’s body betrayed him, and he started sliding down onto the bed, I put the chair back and quietly made my way out of the room, gently closing the door shut.

Day 3 I awoke and got ready the same as the previous day and headed straight to Jimin’s room. I knocked before entering, only to walk in on him shirtless, back turned.

“Ah! Sorry!” I fumbled with the door, almost slipping and falling while I slammed it a little too loud shut. I caught my breath and leant against the wall. The door cracked open, and Jimin’s head pops out, peering at me curiously. “Y/N? You okay?” his voice soft, with a sense of humour behind it. When I looked at him, he was showing off a small smile, amusement clear in his eyes. I push myself off the wall, slightly rolling my eyes before facing him. “How are you doing today?” He shrugs, averting back to shy Jimin, and suddenly finding the floor more interesting.

“Uh, it’s almost breakfast time..” Jimin’s head whips up, once again looking terrified at the mention of meal time, shuffling in his step. Hurrying to get my words out, I stumble while approaching him. “Uh wait- But don’t worry. I talked to my mum and we made some arrangements with the staff. They can bring food to us- I mean, you. Just until you’re like, um you know.. more comfortable. Being in the cafeteria and all.” His brows knit in confusion at my rambling, eyes searching mine, and as if on cue, one of the kitchen staff appears with a steel trolley, two trays of food on top, looking between us with a judgemental expression. She walks away, waving her hand behind her, grumbling about something incoherent. I look at Jimin. “Breakfast?”

We ate silently inside Jimin’s room, the occasional comment about the eggs or bacon coming up. I could’ve been dreaming, but I swear with my soul that Jimin kept smiling weirdly into his food, then covering himself up by coughing or stuffing more hash brown into his mouth. I decide to break the silence. “Hey Jimin, want to hear a joke?” His head perks up, his face beaming in curiosity, and gives a small nod. “What colour is a hamburger?” “What?” “… Burgundy.” There’s a pause before he breaks out in a full-out grin, his eyes disappearing, creating small little crinkles around the crescent-shapes. The once silent room was soon filled with Jimin’s ringing giggles, his hand subconsciously covering half of his face. At the sound of his laughing, my heart blooms and I can’t help smiling widely myself. He removes his hand and I suddenly gasp, finding his smile breathtaking. I mentally confirm, that his smile indeed could warm up a whole room and I feel small butterflies constricting my breathing, clenching my heart and making me light-headed. Jimin was beautiful.

We spent the rest of the morning talking, me hearing stories of Jimin’s childhood; his adventures with his real father before he was ripped from him, when his mother would bake and he’d help only to create a mess in the kitchen. In turn, Jimin asked me small questions, finding interest in my favourite colours, and being intrigued by the stories I’ve encountered and written. I could feel Jimin growing more comfortable, and opening up in front of me. I’d see hints of his habits, like how he always covers his face when he’s embarrassed or laughing, or how he’d fold his hands in front of his lap while absentmindedly talking, or the small crinkle of a frown between his brows when he’d try to recall a more distant memory.

When the room turned silent again, I decided to speak up. “Jimin, you start therapy this afternoon. Unfortunately, I’m not allowed to join you,” I could see his expression glaze over in worry, and I hurried to say more, “but I’ll be here to talk afterwards.” At my comment, he eases a little, and takes a deep breath. “You’ll be called at 3, and I can walk you there if you’d like?” He nods, giving me a grateful smile.

3:00pm came earlier than expected and we found ourselves outside the double doors leading to the therapy wing of the building. I look at Jimin apologetically, but he smiles in understanding. The guard that followed us takes Jimin by the arm and leads him through the double doors.

I returned to mum’s office and result in staring at the clock as the minutes slowly tick by, tapping my pen impatiently against my notebook. 4:02pm. Time passed too slowly, each tick of the clock hand menacingly mocking me, growing louder in my ears. 4:18pm. I groaned, rubbing my face and getting up from my seat. 4:35pm. Why was I feeling so concerned for Jimin? 4:49pm He will finish in 10 minutes. I forced myself to wait until 4:55 before making my way over to the therapy wing.

I stand outside, checking my watch every 10 seconds. 5:00pm. He should be done by now. I waited a little longer, not realising I had been pacing back and forth, glancing at the door after each round. A doctor followed by two guards come through the doors. My eyes search behind them, looking for the black curtain of hair. When I didn’t spot him, I look at the doctor who already had his eyes on me. “Where’s Park Jimin?” The doctor eyes me questioningly, before clearing his throat. “He’ll be kept overnight for closer monitoring.”

He walks away as I frown in confusion, staring at the double doors.

Kept overnight? But it was only his first session.

Still in confusion, I make my way back to the office, overthinking different scenarios which would cause Jimin to be kept overnight.

Did he say something wrong? Did he lie? He wouldn’t lie would he? Or did he assault someone? Impossible.

I shake my head. You’re being ridiculous, Y/N. He’ll be fine. You’ll see him tomorrow.

Day 4 For the whole day, I did not see Jimin. I had gone to the therapy wing twice, as well as checked his room a few times. But there was no trace of Jimin.

I tried not to think about it, because why would I be so concerned for him anyway?

And it hit me. Had I grown to care for him? No, that’s not it. I’ve only known him two days.

Or was it?

Day 5 I woke to my alarm again, groggily getting up. The first thought that enters my mind is Jimin. I shook my head as I busied myself with getting ready for the day and step out of the room, making my way towards the dining hall.

I hope Jimin is okay, what are they doing to him?

I get my breakfast and sit at an empty table, chewing at whatever food was thrown onto my tray, hardly tasting the blandness of it. Countless of thoughts enter my mind, about Jimin, not about Jimin, my mum, this building, that guard. I clear off my plate in no time, and robotically put the tray away, walking the corridors to my mum’s office. I once again sit at the empty desk, laptop flipped open in front of me, staring brightly back; welcoming but not welcoming enough. With a sigh, I get up from my seat and find myself pacing again - a habit I seem to have acquired during my short time here.

What is this feeling? This unnecessary amount of concern, the sour taste at the back of my throat? Just why were they keeping Jimin for so long, what are they doing to him? I hope he’s okay, damn it, why do I feel this way?

You care for him, you idiot.

I groan and slump to the ground, leaning against the cold, hard stone wall, scraping my hand frustratedly down my face. I wanted to scream from the amount of worry that was eating away at my stomach, churning at the thought of pain being possibly inflicted onto Jimin. Jimin who was so sweet, so pure and kind. Who has full cheeks, a warm smile and a contagious laugh. Exasperated and with insanity gnawing away at my thoughts, I get up and roam the corridors again, finding myself in front of the doors to the therapy wing. I press my face onto the small window of the door, eyes peering around, but seeing nothing in return. Without thinking, my fist collided with the door, causing a loud rattle to echo through the hard empty hallways, inflicting an inhuman-like moan to draw from my throat.

This fucking place, it makes me crazy. How can my mum stand it? There’s no sunlight, no life. It makes me sick. I want to get out of here. But where the fuck is Jimin?

A split second later, the corridors descend into pitch black, lights weakly flickering before going completely out. Small red lights that line the ceiling every few meters begin flashing at an erratic and constant speed, accompanied by a deafening siren. Blindly, I feel the walls, eyes having trouble adjusting to the lack of sight, the red lights only providing small glimpses of the sickly-looking hallways originally painted a murky yellow, but now looking like a poisonous brown. Not knowing what to do or where to go, I lean against the wall, scrunching my eyes shut from the blaring siren emitting from the speakers at each corner, the sound drowning out my own thoughts.

God, fuck. What is going on?

There is a loud bang, and a figure comes crashing out of the double doors of the therapy wing. The lighting was terrible, but there was no mistaking the black curtain sweeping back and forth over the figure’s forehead.

“Jimin?!” a strangled cry comes out of my throat. At the mention of his name, his head whips to my direction and he stumbles towards me. He stops in front of me, his knees buckling as he fists at my shirt, falling helplessly to the ground. Instinctively, I kneel and take his face in my hands. A choked sob falls from my mouth when I take in the sight in front of me. The skin swelled; a massive patch, in hues of black and purple, had been branded across half of Jimin’s face. His eye was swollen shut, his lip cracked and painted with dried blood. There were tears streaming down his face, leaving trails where there was blood smeared on his cheeks. I sat him up in a crouch, frantically trailing my hands all over his face, swiping away at his hair to get a better look at him. “Oh my God, Jimin. What did they do to you?” He grabbed at my shirt, tugging and fisting at the material, clawing at me. “Please. Please, please, please. Don’t make me go back there. Please, don’t let them take me back. Please, please.” I choke on my breath at the pain in his strangled pleading, my throat constricting at the tears painting his face accompanied by the contorted expression of agony flooding his features.

“Patient 48021, Park Jimin. He’s escaped!” A booming voice sounds from around the corner. Jimin begins to tug at me again, struggling to scramble to his feet. I help him to his feet, as they trip over each other, balance becoming something unknown to them. Still with fistfuls of shirt in his hands, his knuckles pale from the grip, he pulls me towards him, a groan emitting from his throat.

“Y/N. Y/N. Please. Please, help me escape, please.” I nod erratically, words failing to form a reply, and with all my might, I haul Jimin into a better standing position, snaking an arm around his waist and carrying his weight on my shoulders. We stumble-run around the corner opposite to where the voice came from, finding ourselves at a dead end. My head whips around at my slim options, trying to calculate what to do.

What floor are we on? Therapy wing. Therapy wing, 4th floor!

I turn my head once again, eyes falling on an emergency stairway exit. Readjusting Jimin’s body, I plead him and his legs to cooperate, as we sloppily jogged towards the door, kicking it open with a loud crash. I glance behind me before dragging Jimin into the landing of the stairway, making my way down and praying that we don’t trip and fall. On the way down, Jimin’s small voice repeated the same sentence, “Please don’t make me go back. Please, please don’t make me go back.” Swallowing the lump of a sob in my throat, I repeat the same reassurance to him, claiming we were getting out of here and never coming back.

Suddenly, four floors felt like 20, and my pace slowed down painfully, struggling to keep Jimin’s weight on my wobbly feet. A relieved whine escapes me as I read the door with a large G painted on it, and I yank it open by the handle, pulling Jimin out with me. We found ourselves in a parking lot, at the back of the building, empty all except for one car. Stumbling, and tripping over our own feet, we make our way towards the lone car, surprisingly and to my relief, finding the door unlocked. I haul Jimin into the back seat, checking all his limbs were inside before slamming the door shut. I had only driven a car once, the short commute to college meaning I never really needed to get my license, and now I’m filled with panic, praying my short experience in a car wouldn’t get us killed. I never noticed the warm, salty tears streaming down my own face until my fingers were slick, unable to properly grip the handle of the glovebox to find the hot wires.

“God fucking damn it!” My fingers fumbled with the wires, and I heard a low whimper from the back seat followed by a quiet, “hurry up, please,” weaved within choked up sobs. I had no idea what I was doing, only following the actions of the ridiculously stereotypical ‘hunky’ actors in the shitty GTA-like action movies where getaways always looked easier than it seemed, but to my own surprise, when two wires collided with each other, a spark appeared and I hear my own breath being drawn from my lungs. I try the wires again and let out a cry as the engine roared to life, a low moan growing from below the car.

Thanking the heavens the car was automatic, I put the car into reverse, and back out of the space, locking it into drive before slamming my foot on the acceleration, crashing straight through the chainlink fence and swerving dangerously onto the road. I had no idea where we were, it was the middle of no where, but I drove on the road, and I kept driving until I could see the sky painted in the same warm hues as my first day arriving to the institute, the un-tinted windows causing the saturation of the sunset to blind my eyes. I squint through the tears, and the brightness and focus on the lines painted on the road as it began to get darker and darker. Panic sets in as I realise my headlights weren’t turned on and the car slows to a stop. I pull over to the side of the road, the car becoming silent, only leaving my heavy uneven breaths and Jimin’s silent, whimpering cries to fill the small space.

Day 6 I don’t remember blacking out, but it was morning when my eyes opened again.

I frantically turn in my seat, causing a groan to sound as I notice the knot in my back. Jimin was still asleep, face screwed up in pain, his breathing hollow with his chest heaving up and down in uneven movements. Frowning at the subtle moans that come from the back of his throat, I lift his shirt to see the same coloured bruises littered on his ribs, hugging his torso, leaving next to no amount of skin-coloured flesh in sight. My eyes flood with tears, as Jimin starts awake from the gesture, scrambling to sit up and tugging his shirt down. I mumble out an apology before twisting back to the front, wiping at my eyes.

It hit me that my mum was still at the institute, not knowing I had escaped, and I pull out my phone to dial her number only to find 8 missed calls from her. I dial her number and begin to hyperventilate, waiting for the crackling on the other side signifying she picked up. I silently sob in relief as her voice sounds frantically on the other side. “Mum. Mum, I’m fine. I’m with Jimin. They did terrible things to him, mum. They beat him. I had to get him out of there. I had to.” She shushes my rambling, saying she understands. She hurriedly gives me instructions: keep driving west, and there’ll be a motel. At the motel, mention where you came from and that I was sent by Rose, they’ll let you make a phone call, and stay the night free of charge.

“Call the police, they will come for you. Take care of Jimin, you’re all he’s got now. Y/N.. Y/N, there’s something I never mentioned when I told you about the institute. I have been working with several people to try and shut down this wretched place, the couple who owns the motel are some of them. And no opportunity to end this place has arisen until now. Please be safe, stay warm, I’ll try contact you as soon as possible. I love-” My mother’s voice grew frantic, before the phone call was cut short. My jaw was slack in shock as I stare at the phone screen, my mum’s smiling face staring back in the photo. I didn’t want to think about what happened to her, but silent tears rolled endlessly down my cheeks as I put the car in drive and made my way west, Jimin silent in the back, and I could see from the corner of my eye, him occasionally glancing worriedly in my direction, his bottom lip catching between his teeth.

We pulled up in front of an old motel, and a middle-aged couple comes rushing out even before I could get out of the car. I sat emotionless, as the woman opened my door, eyes scanning me in panic, helping me out before taking me inside. “Wait, Jimin,” I worriedly cry. “He’s right behind us,” the woman cooed in my ear, petting at my hair and rubbing at my arm before setting me onto a chair, “you’ll be alright.” I wanted to faint, and I did just that, seeing Jimin crouching in front of me and taking my hand before darkness flooded my mind.

I don’t know what time it was, but it was night. I was laid on an old couch, in unfamiliar surroundings and I jolt awake.

“It’s okay, dear,” the woman spoke, getting up from her seat to hand me a glass of water. “Where’s Jimin?” my hoarse voice sounds, hand reaching to take the water gratefully. The woman nods her head to the side of the couch, where Jimin was sat on the ground, head laid on the armrest, the black curtain covering his eyes once again. “He wouldn’t leave you alone,” she spoke again, “wouldn’t let me give him the chair to sit in either.” I reach over and brush the hair from his eyes, heart aching at the sight of the bruises. He jolts awake at the sound of sirens, as I turn my head out the window to see flashing lights. Policemen and paramedics rush through the door, crowding Jimin, and checking his injuries taking him straight into the ambulance, his panicked eyes looking for me. He meets my eyes as I mouth, “it’s okay,” before the doors of the vehicle shut. My vision was blurry from new tears, as I was led to the police car and carefully placed in the back seat, streams of reassuring messages attacking me from all angles. The couple were outside the car, being questioned by two policemen, before approaching my window. I croaked out a thank you, clutching onto the woman’s hand who smiled reassuringly, her eyes still drowning in concern. I try smile back as best as I can before the police car was pulled out of the motel parking lot, the figures of the couple, who’s names I never learned, turning into small dots on the horizon.

One Month Later. I had learned two days after our escape that my mother was shot twice by a guard for fighting back, once on the side of her torso and another through her heart, before she collapsed and died. The police made to the institute shortly after, bringing authorities from several different countries and arresting all staff within the building for abuse, and mistreatment of human-kind, and skills. The place was shut down, releasing more than a thousand young patients trapped within the cold walls to their family members who had assumed they had disappeared. It turns out, the government were snatching up young people for experimentation, and not refinery. It was all a bullshit cover story that was eventually unveiled to reveal a cruel and sickening process behind the stone walls, that even my mother knew nothing of.

A month on, the story is still painting newspapers, making a feature on different news channels and causing marches against the government for their cruelty and lack of humanity.

I reach over to turn the TV off, watching Jimin in his sleep. A month on, he’s still kept in the hospital, due to his extensive injuries that were far more severe internally than externally, but he was lucky he got out before it got worse. He stirs in his sleep, a bead of sweat forming on his forehead, the skin between his brows creasing. He begins to thrash and I rush to his side.

“No, please! Don’t, no! Leave me alone, please-” I shake him awake, and his eyes fly open. “It’s okay Jimin, it was just a dream.” He sighs in relief, eyes fluttering shut as I stroke the back of his head. “I still won’t let anything bad happen to you. I made a promise, and I keep those promises.” He nods, opening his eyes to stare back at mine. I place my hands on either side of his head, and plant a kiss on his forehead, before he wraps his arms around my shoulders, pulling me into a tight hug.

Everything is going to be alright now.

#pls do not repost #one shot #fic #bts #bangtan #jimin #bts fic

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