#mention them in my presence one time and I went rabid

[officialladynoirette]

POV: they know your secrets

@spacehair 😘

[dreamkidddream]

Hi I love love LOVE your blog would you maybe do all the obey me brothers x reader yandere wise?

Hi anon! Thank you for the love I really appreciate it!! I know I sound like a broken record, but I was so nervous to start this blog and I’m so happy that people are enjoying my writings. So this request was kinda vague (and it’s my first yandere request!), so I’m assuming you mean general headcannons being in a relationship with the brothers (separately) being yandere. If I’m wrong, just send in the request again with some more details and I’ll be happy to redo it. Reader is gender neutral and I hope you enjoy!

Sidenote: Beel’s and Belphie’s part is a little bit short. Sorry!

TW: Unhealthy relationships, toxic behavior, yandere behavior but not too graphic is mentioned

Spoilers for Lesson 9-11 (mentioned in Satan’s) and Lesson 16 (mentioned in Mammon’s, Beel’s and Belphie’s)

Yandere HC’s with The Bros

So let me begin by saying this: I think that all demons are very territorial and even more so possessive. The brothers no doubt all love you, but you couldn’t help but realize that their way of love was starting to get just a tad bit worrying. I mean, you knew that they were demons and that they wouldn’t dream of hurting you (again), but it was starting to feel...intense. After all, they were just starting to express openly how they feel. You tried to give them the benefit of the doubt, but it was scary. They were determined that you were going to know just how much they love you...

And you were going to accept it, whether you wanted to or not.

Lucifer

Very controlling

You thought he was strict before, please, you haven’t seen anything yet

It went from telling you when to eat to downright constantly being in his presence. You were pretty much living in his room at this point, with the exception of leaving for school where he was your only escort

He was the embodiment of Pride, he took in pride in everything that he does, which included you. He was the reflection of perfection, and he were going to make sure that you and your relationship with him would reflect that too

He couldn’t help it. He was the oldest and the brother in charge, and that control transferred into your relationship. There was no room for backtalk or disobedience with him, it was his word, and his word was final

But, it was coming from a good place (in his eyes). He only wanted the best for you, because you deserved the best. And you’re a human, one of the weakest beings to ever exist that demons wouldn’t hesitate to rip limb from limb for fun. And he already lost you once due to his negligence. If he was there, if he knew what you were up to, if he knew your every move, then it wouldn’t have taken place. If he takes control, you would be safe. Sure, you would complain about wanting your “freedom” back (relax MC, he didn’t lock you up yet), but this was the best course of action. 

Being the Avatar of Pride and the oldest (and most powerful) of all the brothers, Lucifer was intimidating. He knew the power and the weight that his name holds in the Devildom, he wasn’t Diavolo’s right hand man for nothing. So with that being said, he didn’t have to worry about any lesser demon even thinking about trying to take you away. 

He didn’t see anyone as competition. Psh, do you see who he is? If anything, he sees these “competitors” as nuisances. Annoyances that didn’t know how to go away when they noticed that they weren’t welcomed. They weren’t going to take you away, they won’t even get the chance to be physically close to you, but...

He didn’t have a problem in making an example out of one or two people, as a matter of fact he relished it in. Have them on display for the whole Devildom to see. After looking at their disfigured and nearly destroyed bodies, the message is made clear: to make sure that it’s known that you are off limits completely

He loves you MC, and you may not understand that when he hovers over you, demanding that you never leave his sight, when he makes it to where none of your friends talk to you anymore (when they see you both walking, they immediately turn the other way like they haven’t seen you at all), and even when your time with the other brothers is limited to the point where you see him and only him, but he truly does love you

Lucifer loves you. He let his walls down and even swallowed his pride when he admitted this to you, and he doesn’t want to regret it. Which is why he had to be the dominant force in this relationship. He wasn’t going to lose you again, he refused to. No one was going to take you away from him, lest they incur the wrath of the firstborn

Mammon

This demon was already clingy, so just amp it up to an 1000

Mammon already gets picked on by demons, witches, and even his own family. So when you started to defend and comfort him, he was smitten. You, a mere human, making the Great Mammon feel butterflies in his stomach? Had you told Mammon this 100s of years ago that he would fall in love with a human, he would have laughed in your face and blew you off. But here he was, head over heels in love with you

He was already following you, since he was deemed your protector, and he took that title very seriously.

“Oi MC, stay close with me, that creep’s walking too close.” “Human, ‘ya need to let me walk with you every class, what if some no-good demon’s plannin’ something and I’m not there?!” “MC, stay away from that scumbag, I don’t like him being near you...”

Your safety wasn’t a game, it wasn’t a risk he would be taking like he’s playing a game of poker. No. He loves you, and he hasn’t felt this kind of warmth since his days in the Celestial Realm. If it means that he would never leave your side (and trust me, he’s not complaining), then he was happy about it. Ecstatic even. You were a pure soul and you made him smile everyday, he wasn’t willing to lose you by a longshot

He escalated from being a puppy to a growling rabid demon, baring his fangs at anyone he deemed a threat (which was starting to be an alarming rate of people, even people that you both personally knew). Mammon would always have some sort of grip on you, ready to pull you away under the guise that he was defending you. It got to a point where it just seemed like he was always on edge, just picking fights for no reason, and it got to the point where you confronted him about it. These people were your friends! They weren’t random demons trying to eat you alive, they weren’t trying to torture you for entertainment, and you are your own person! You’re not just some possession, and you’re not a child! You can take care of yourself-

He didn’t like that at all

You didn’t understand it, you’re a weakling compared to everyone here, and you wouldn’t make it by yourself (was Belphie not enough proof of that statement?!). You needed Mammon, and he was going to be there protecting you, whether you wanted it or not. He failed once, and got a second chance, and he wasn’t going to waste it. And if you didn’t want his protection, that’s okay. You’ll grow to live and love him soon enough

Many people forget that while Mammon does act childish and does rather stupid things at times, he is the second born. The second most powerful brother right after Lucifer himself. He won’t (or at least tries not to) do these acts in front of you, no. He knows how vulnerable you can be, you’re not used to seeing vicious acts like these in front of you, but he is. Your classmate that wanted to do a study date for a big test? He’s trying to curse you so he can hurt you Canceled last minute and unenrolled from the class next day. Beel’s teammate that asked you for your number? He obviously wants to get some inside info to harm you Bones broken beyond repair to the point where he couldn’t play Fangol anymore and left in despair (you were only trying to plan a surprise for Beel since he’s been working so hard). The demon that accidentally bumped into you on the street? He tried to attack you and Mammon stepped in before it got worse You personally saw what he was capable of before you begged him to stop. 

All in all, he’s the Avatar of Greed, it’s in his nature to be selfish. Before, he hated himself for how low his sin would make him feel, but damn did it feel good to indulge in it with it came to you

Leviathan

Out of all the bros to go yandere, he would be one of the worst to encounter. Good luck MC, cause you’re gonna need it dealing with his yandere side

Being that his sin is jealousy, it’s just a disaster waiting to happen. Why were you ALWAYS talking to his brothers and not him?! It’s not fair, it’s not fair!-

On top of that, he can be very manipulative, and he knows it. Whenever he talks down on himself, saying that he can understand why you would want to talk to other people instead of him. After all, he’s just a icky otaku who’s a worthless excuse for the third strongest brother-

Whenever he has this spouts, he knows that you’ll drop everything and come reassure him. You can always reschedule, he needs you now

With Levi, he knows what he’s doing is wrong, but he can’t help it, and he doesn’t care to. It took him so long to find real affection, and even then he still had his suspicions. You don’t really care for him if you keep trying to leave him, you don’t! Clearly, your love was just an act. If you really did love him, then wouldn’t you spend all of your time with him and no one else? 

He knew that you couldn’t physically be with him forever, you weren’t immortal after all. But that didn’t mean that you couldn’t spend your remaining time with him. You could switch to online classes like him, constant anime and TSL marathons, and you could even watch him stream live! That sounded like heaven (ironically) to him and it would make him beyond happy, so why aren’t you agreeing with him? You would do this if Mammon asked or even if your hex classmate begged you too, so why not do it for him?? Was he not enough for you?! He knew that someone would try to steal you, and there will be hell to pay

Another thing, Levi was smart. Granted, not as book smart as Satan, but he was smart and sly. Always being stuck in his room, it gave him the chance to be stealthy since no one ever expects him to leave (unless it was for a rare appearance at RAD for student council meetings or something he was actually excited for and wouldn’t shut up about it). This gives him time for what needs to be done: collecting some “personal souvenirs” for himself and getting rid of some scum

Levi is like Mammon, many people forget that not only is he the third strongest, but he is the Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy. They just don’t see him in this position of power because of his image as the shut-in otaku who fanboys over Ruri-Chan. But when he breaks out of that mentality, people should worry...

He doesn’t like to be super messy, his route is silent but quick. Doesn’t mean that it would be painless though, just quick and without much of a mess. Being an reptile/aquatic demon does have its perks, especially when it comes to using his venom

Levi, while he struggles with openly expressing his feelings, won’t have that much of an issue showing you how he feels. He may not be able to say it with words confidently, but he can definitely show you how he truly feels by never letting you go

Satan

Another one to where if he went yandere, he would be the worst to deal with

Satan, while he had a better handle on his emotions, still struggled from time to time. He is the Avatar of Wrath, and yes, you all didn’t feel like you had to walk on eggshells when conversing with him, it didn’t mean that you could just say or do anything

He still reacted in his angry ways, but it wasn’t nearly as ruthless as how it was before. For example, if you spilled something on him by accident, he’ll be just a little irritated, but after looking at your guilty expression, it would slowly drift away. He knows that you aren’t idiotic like some of his brothers , and it was you, he couldn’t stay mad at you no matter how much he tried. It would eat at him, anger turning into sadness, then clarity and understanding. And you were to thank for that

After the whole body swap fiasco, he gotten better with understanding emotions other than the usual fury that flowed through his body. And the ones that you would make him feel got him addicted, to say the least

Like Levi, he starts to understand that what he is doing can’t be right, but he doesn’t understand why. Satan, one of (if not) the smartest of the brothers, could not figure out what you were making him feel, until it finally hit him when you said the three words he desperately didn’t know that he needed to hear:

“Thank you so much, Satan! Seriously, I love you.” 

This feeling became much clearer now. This...was how true love felt? Like the ones that he read so much about? This was like a dream come true then. He, a demon that born from literal wrath, was receiving genuine love. Someone loved him, and he refused to let that go. 

He would occupy your time and space more, always offering to help you study for some tests or completing assignments, and even inviting you to come read with him. This was fine, it wasn’t an issue. 

What was the issue was how territorial he was getting of you. Whenever someone else wanted to hang out or just be in your presence, Satan would lose his cool. It would start out slowly building with him making snarky comments out loud, saying that they were boring you and wasting your time when you could be with him. Then it would lead to him lingering around, sticking close to your side by either grasping your hand or, if he was feeling extra possessive, an arm wrapped tightly around your waist with him giving a threatening look at the offender. If none of these things were working however (Diavolo forbid if the person was ignoring him or even acting smug), he was ready to explode.

He didn’t want to scare you anymore than he already had. Satan knew that in the past that he used his reputation as the Avatar of Wrath to strike fear into people, including you when you first arrived here. But he was a new demon! He couldn’t make his anger or wrath go away, but he could control it and find new ways to release it instead of the usual rampages. And he wanted to prove to you that he wasn’t just the rage-filled demon, but a man that was more than capable of loving you

But he couldn’t, he wouldn’t, let this person get off scot-free. You noticed how tense he was getting, and before you could even blink he already had them dangling by their neck. You could make out some of the things he was saying, “How dare you think you can take MC away from me?! I won’t hesitate to end your pathetic existence if you so much as glance at them-”. He could feel you tugging at him, pleading at him to please calm down and that you could both just leave-

Well, why didn’t you say so earlier MC? All of this could have been avoided if you were just with him this entire time instead of this filth. As long as you kept giving him this euphoric feeling and have him feeling like he’s on Cloud 9, then everything will be fine. A non-rampaging Satan is a happy Satan, and a happy Satan is good for you and everyone around. Just stay in his presence, just give him love, and everything will be peaceful.

Satan is not a merciful demon, and when he acts on his wrath it gets very gruesome. If you want people to keep their body parts attached and not scattered across the Devildom (and not find their bloody heart at your door since they wanted you to have it so much), then don’t stray away from him. When Satan is with you, he feels content with everything, and he doesn’t want that to change. He wants you to be happy with him like he is with you, and he won’t let anyone get in the way of that

You were the beauty to his beast, and he was going to get his happy ever after, even if he had to tear through and rip apart every single person in the way, one by one

Asmodeus

Getting the Avatar of Lust to fall in love with you is a feat that was rarely (if not ever) obtained. It was both a blessing and a curse

A blessing to where you got the treasured fifth born to show you just how much he appreciates you for you, and only wanted your eyes set on him. A curse to where he only wanted your attention, and was furious if your eyes wandered off him for a millisecond.

You knew how Asmo was, he lived for the attention, the spotlight on him and only him, with people announcing their undying love and affection just for him. But there was a glaring problem with this

Asmo wanted you announcing your undying love and affection just for him. He loved his fans, but he didn’t love them like he loved you, and that was a problem for him. You made him fall in love with you, so it’s only fair that you deal with it, right? It’s only fair to love him as much as he did you right? Really, you were the one that was suppose to be madly in love with him, not the other way around

It doesn’t matter what you answered, loving him was the only choice that you had. Your head should be filled with thoughts of Asmo, your attention only set on him, your pretty lips only speaking praises and “I love you” just for him, you should dedicated to Asmo and only Asmo

What did you do to make him fall so hard for you? He’s no stranger to having flings and the feeling of love in general. In the past, he’s convinced himself that he was in love with certain people, but it would never last, the “love” that he felt fleeting. So for you to make him feel this emotion, to feel this true love for so long and it not leave him yet frightened him so much. He wanted you to need him, to feel like he’s your very reason to breath, to live. 

And he hated it when other people took your attention away

Asmo definitely wasn’t the one to be messy (he still has to look his best and some pieces of trash was not about to change that), so he lets his charm do the job, literally. Who could deny his request when he tells them that they should just leave MC alone forever, and that maybe they should go pay Cerberus a visit if they’re so desperate for some attention.

All in all, Asmo is borderline delusional that loving him is by giving him your attention, always and forever. He loves you, and the bare minimum that you’ve been giving him (in his eyes) isn’t enough anymore. He deserves your love and affection at all times, even if it means that he would be the only person in your life, then that was even better. Your love was only fitted for perfection, and he was perfection, no one else

Beelzebub

Okay, so Beel is already the nicest brother out of the bunch, so I think he would be the least concerning yandere to worry about 

He’s already soft when it comes to you and his family, and he’s protective of you

He’s very, very protective of you

Beel, although he’s among the youngest, is one of the strongest physically. He’s muscular and the tallest out of the family. He doesn’t even need to open his mouth to threaten anyone, he can just stand there and stare menacingly in the background, and whoever was there would run for the hills 

He’s always around you, which isn’t a bad thing. All he does is eat (which he offered to share and even feed to you), make small talk, and walk with you to wherever you needed to go. Besides, to you Beel is a big cuddly teddy bear (just with really sharp teeth). He wouldn’t hurt anyone without reason. As long as no one was trying to take you away or hurt you, then everything was fine. 

He is willing to share you, but only with Belphie. He’s used to sharing with his twin, and he loved the both of you too much to be completely selfish with you. Plus, he knew that Belphie loved you too. This was the perfect reality for him: having you, his twin, and food. It makes him and Belphie happy, and they’ll make you happy along with keeping you safe

Now, if someone did have the courage to try anything with you, Beel would have no problems eliminating the issue. He’s a nice guy, but he won’t tolerate anything if it deals with his family. He’ll be conscious enough to where he won’t handle it in front of you, if anything he won’t even leave a trace. He’s the Avatar of Gluttony after all, he always has an appetite. 

Beel is a very understanding, but also very wary, guy. After the Fall and losing his baby sister Lilith and having Belphie taken too, he’s terrified that something can and is bound to happen to you again. He will be ready this time, he won’t take anything else as an answer. You’ll still have your freedom, and you can still hang around some of your friends (at least for now), but just know that Beel will always be around. He’ll be like your second shadow, and always on the go. He loves you, and he refuses to lose anyone else that he loves. 

Belphegor

This man was already yandere, let’s be real

After the whole situation happened and he was given a second chance to build a real relationship with you, he wasn’t going to screw it up. Believe it or not, despite his laziness, he was going to try his hardest to create a genuine bond with you. Actions speak louder than words after all, and he wanted to show you how much he’s changed. He was indebted to you, you gave him the chance to be with Beel again, and to get out of that cursed attic (even though he did kill you afterwards and was playing you like a fool)

Very possessive and very selfish. If he had to share, it would only be with his twin obviously. No one else was going to have you, and he would make sure that was a fact. After all, all he needed was you and Beel, no one else

Also like Levi, very manipulative. He doesn’t want to be that way, but if it keeps you by his side and no one else’s then oh well, he’ll get over it. If it has to be done, it has to be done

You don’t need to go to that party with Asmo, it’s time for your nightly cuddle sessions. Don’t go with that idiot Mammon, he wants his cuddles now. Why are you going with Diavolo and Lucifer? Are you forgetting what they did to him, what his dear older brother did to him to save face? See what you did, you made him sad, maybe if you take a nap with him and forget about everyone else he’ll start to feel a little bit better...

He’s lazy, but don’t take his laziness for weakness. If someone is really starting to become a bother, he’ll happily eradicate the threat. He’ll leave the body behind too, he wouldn’t feel like cleaning up. Plus, he would be proud of his work. Many people think that just because his sin is Sloth is that he’s a puny demon, but they also forget that he’s one of the most powerful demons to even grace Hell. And like Satan, he’s not very merciful. He won’t be as savage and bloodthirsty like him, but he’ll make sure that the problem goes in an agonizing way. 

MC, just know that Belphie loves you for you, and not because of the Lilith revelation. His words may not come across like he does, but what he doesn’t say with his words, he makes up for in action. I mean, you don’t have to worry about other demons being a pain because he’ll make sure that they’ll go away, and plus you can just stay in their room! Studies show that sleeping next to someone you love is super healthy and helps you sleep better in general, and who else is better for the job than him?

He’s going to prove to you that he really loves you, he’s not going to make any more mistakes, and he’s not going to have any more regrets when it comes to you, he’s going to make sure of that. No one is going to get in the way of the ideal dream: just you, him, and Beel. Not random demons, not the other exchange students, not even Diavolo. No one was getting in the way, no one. 

[unmaskedagain]

Marinette: Stone Cold

Ok so i love this prompt but it took forever to get to. And as soon as I did its like suddenly I was swamped with everything. So frustrating. But I finally finished it. And I love it. @vixen-uchiha​

              Marinette was six-years-old when her parents died in a car crash. She had been at school when the vice principle, Mrs. Valmontes, stopped by and pulled her out of class. The little black haired girl had known something was wrong instantly as Valmontes had smiled just a little hard at her and much more gently than what she was known for.

           Still, she had been really surprised to see Office Raincomprix, her classmate Sabrina’s dad, waiting for her in the principle. Marinette always thought he was really nice; always jolly and quick to lend a hand to the teacher at the end of the day if he got to class early to pick up Sabrina. However, he too, seemed rather despondent when Marinette entered the room. His partner, a rookie named Lorna, looked really sad too.

           They took her down to the station where she was led to one of the back offices. Sabrina’s dad waited with her there. And then woman name Susanna LeFlont, who Marinette would later learn was a grief counselor. Then they told her.

           Susanna held her as she cried and begged and called them liars, until she couldn’t cry anymore. And then they gave her a stuffed animal, and said they would try calling her relatives to pick her up.

           They came back an hour later, saying they got ahold of her parents’ emergency contact…

           Marinette’s Uncle Jareth Dupain.

           She had frowned when they said his name because to her he had never been Jareth Dupain. No, he was always her cool Uncle Jagged. So it took her a second to remember that his real name was Jareth Dupain-Stone, her father’s younger half-brother. Marinette even briefly remember her dad mentioning having to change their emergency contact after his mom, Gina, passed away a few ago.

           He was only 20 when Marinette born and he was always a budding Rockstar so he wasn’t around too much. And 6 years later he was the biggest rockstar in the world. Still, that didn’t stop him from rushing to the police station, Penny hot on his trail, and pulled his sweet niece into the biggest hug he could.

           Jagged took his niece to the hotel room to get her settled and had Penny go back to the bakery to get some of her things. He didn’t think it was a smart idea to take her there yet; not when the wounds were still so fresh.

           Still as the twenty-six year old Rockstar stared at the small form cuddled up to Fang, he realized for the first time that he was all Marinette had in the world; the only family she had left. The only family he had left.

           So he knew, despite the lawyers taking days to contact him regarding who Marinette’s guardian would be, that it was him. Jagged was the person Tom had entrusted to protect and watch the most precious thing he had the entire world; his daughter. And he wouldn’t let his brother down.

Tom had always been the best big brother anyone could have. And when Jagged’s own father, Tom’s Stepfather (as tom’s own father had suffered a heartache when Tom was a teen), had walked out, Tom had stepped up. He showed Jagged, who was still called Jareth at the time, how to be a man. He believed in Jagged’s rockstar dream when Jagged didn’t even believe in them himself.

Jagged would do right Tom, by Sabine; he would do what they would do if the situation was reversed and they were given Jagged’s kid to care for.

He would raise Marinette as he own. And though he knew would never come close to being the father that Tom Dupain had been…

Jagged would damn well try to be.

…

…

Jagged Stone, Shattered Roses, Nightmare’s Hail Mary, Unmasked Dragon, True Born Rejects, and Emancipated Mirrors were some of the biggest rock band in the world. Whenever, they went on tour together, they were the epitome of what people thought Rock Stars were. They were loud. They partied all night. Groupies hung around everywhere. To them, it was paradise. When all the bands were invited to go on the Kings of Neverland tour, with Jagged Stone headlining, they expected very much the same as they were used to. Jagged always had the most Rockin tour bus. His parties were legendary. They came to expect it.

However, when Neon Savage (front man of the Shattered Roses), Austin Knight (Leader of Unmasked dragon and lead Guitarist), and Niklaus Bane (Lead vocalist of True Born Rejects) showed up with beers and all other sorts of alcohol the day before their opening concert for the tour, they came across something very unexpected.

Or rather someone.

A little Asian girl with pigtails in her Blue hair, a tiara on her head, in a rainbow tutu paired with a black too large Guns N Roses shirt, her hand on her hips, no shoes, and a rather large crocodile next to her.

“What’s with the ballerina?” Austin asked. He had dyed silver hair done in a stereotypical emo style, grey eyes, and too many piercings. He was slim and tall.

           Niklaus sighed in relief, “Oh good, you see her too!” He had curly blond hair, dark brown eyes, and wore mostly black. He had ripped jeans and a red tie. The tie was as red as the whites of his looked. “Why is your hair blue?”

“Because Uncle said I could,” She answered and pointed a figure at them, “You’re not supposed to be here.”

Savage scoffed, “You got that twisted, kid.” He was a bulk guy, with long dark hair, and a severe expression on his face. His arms were covered in tattoos. He played in a metal band, and it was obvious. “Where’s your mommy?”

“Dead,” The little girl said bluntly. “I live with my Uncle Jagged now. This his tour bus, and you’re not supposed to be here.” She glared at them. “Fang, Stranger Danger!”

           What happened next was a bit of a blur. One minute they were fine, the next they were being chased around Jagged’s tour bus by a rather vicious crocodile while pint-sized twerp laughed.

           Lucky for them, their yells for help were overheard by Penny and Jagged who had been working in back, “What’s going on?” Penny asked as she ran in.

“Mates, what the h. e. double hockey sticks is going on?” Jagged asked right on his assistant’s tail.

           Austin, who had jumped on top one of the shelves, gave Jagged a confused look, “Better question; what the hell did you just say?”

“Ooohhhh! There’s five bucks for the swear jar!” The little girl taunted.

           Jagged glared at rockstar, “Watch it! A Kid’s in the room!”

           Savage glared at his longtime friend, “Who the fuck do you think set Fang on us?!” He cast a dark look at the crocodile. “Stranger danger my ass! I’ve known you sent you hatched, you overgrown cheap pair of boots.”

“That’s ten buck for the swear jar!” The girl said.

“Ten bucks?” Austin frowned. “Kinda of steep for just two swear words.”

“I swear to God-” Savage growled but was cut off.

“Chill, mate,” Jagged said. “This is my niece Marinette.” He gave her a loving smile. She beamed up at him brightly. He had been taking care of her for a year now. “I told ya about her.”

“You didn’t say she was Satan!” Austin whined. Fang had bitten him, the slowest of the three, quite a lot, and he had a giant hole in his jacket.

“I’m not Satan,” Marinette huffed. “I’m a ballerina, princess, Rockstar on my way to a tea party with Duchess Rosy Sparkles, of the Unicorn Fairies. And guess what, you’re not invited!”

“Oh that’s just mean,” Niklaus complained.

“She sicked a mini dinosaur on us,” Savaged hissed.

“Yeah, well, now she hurt my feelings.”

           Jagged sighed. The guys were some of his closest friends, and by the look up the “entertainment” they brought, they were ready to raze it up like always. But things had changed. Jagged couldn’t be that guy anymore. “Marinette’s staying with me from now on,” He reminded them. “No parties on the tour. She has a bedtime. And doesn’t need to see “us” at our finest, no matter how Rockin we are.” Jagged shrugged. “Spread the world, my bus is off limits.”

The rock stars grumbled a bit but didn’t leave. They could hang with Jagged without presence of booze, weed, loud music, and groupies. It would be a little weird but they’d managed. Jagged was their friend; they’d known him before any of them became famous and stayed close well after. They hadn’t been there for him as much as they wanted to after Tom died; too many commitments, too many required appearances in different countries that had taken them away. But they were there now. And if being there for one of their best friends meant regularly chilling with a six-year-old, then they’d deal.

Savage grunted, “Austin, get rid of the booze.”

“By ‘get rid of’, I assume you meant put back in my tour bus,” The silver haired guitarist corrected.

           Niklaus raised his hand like he was a student in class, “I get the whole no alcohol thing; that stuff will kill ya. But what your feelings on pot?”

           Jagged just sighed. It was going to be a long summer.

           The three musician, and even the other Rockers on tour, slowly but surely got used to the seemingly near constant presence of a six-year-old around Jagged or running around backstage. And the swear jar was a serious thing. It didn’t count when they were singing on stage but off it and anywhere near Marinette and they found themselves forking over five dollars for ever swear word. It added up a lot. And quickly.

           Jagged’s tour bus, instead of being the Party palace it used to be, now was the chill zone. It was also the cleanest of all the tour buses. No empty beer bottles everywhere. No one random passed out anywhere. No having to watch out for throw up. No rabid fans, as Jagged had increased his security to Tony Stark worthy levels.

           All they had to do was mind their manners and remember that Marinette was very impressionable at her age.

“OH screw you!!!!!!” Savage roared as he jumped up and frantically mashed buttons on his controller. “I’m not losing!”

           They had been babysitting Marinette all day while Jagged did an interview Buzzfeed.

           Austin snickered, “Says you.” His character raced past Savage’s. Only for something to hit him and send poor little Yoshi spinning out of control. “Did you- did you just blue shell me, bitch?” He hissed at Niklaus.

“Nooo!” Niklaus said sarcastically. “Hey!!! Not nice, brat!” He told Marinette after a banana caused him to slip off the ice.

           Marinette smiled easily, but there was a determined look in her eyes. Her hair was jelled into a faux-hawk courtesy of Ashley Crimson, from lead singer for Emancipated Mirrors, an all-girl punk rock band.

“Die, scumbag!” Ashley roared as her racer zoomed by. She was a vivacious redhead. Her and her bandmates got used to being some of the only girls around that weren’t either working for one of the rock stars or were scantily clad fangirls who do “anything” to get backstage.

“You’re going down, twerp!” Savage told Marinette.

“Bite me!” She snapped back just as Jagged and Penny walked into the tour bus.

           Jagged crossed his arms, “What did you morons do to my sweet little niece?”

“Nothing!” Niklaus, Ashley, Savage, and Austin chimed together.

“Savage taught me to throw a punch, and or kill a man.” Marinette smiled happily. “I helped Austin set up a glitter bomb in Nightmare’s Hail Mary tour bus. Niklaus and I are banned from Chuckie Cheese. Ashley and I spray painted her ex boyfriend’s car. Cleo and I got arrested. We disturbed the peace!!” Cleo was a pink haired girl who played drummer from Nightmare’s Hail Mary. She had to rush off for her own interview. “Oh and we’ve only been Playing Mario kart for an hour but they each owe like a hundred bucks to the swear jar.”

           There was silence as the words were processed.

“And not one of us taught her how to keep a freaking secret?” Ashley face palmed.

           Jagged just sighed.

…

…

           For the next few years that was Marinette’s life. Austin, Niklaus, Savage and Ashley became pseudo Uncles and Aunt to Marinette.

She spent most of her childhood on tour with her Uncle; going from to place, concert after concert. Marinette was homeschooled and didn’t mind it. Jagged went on tour with a bunch of different people over the years and she got to meet all sorts musicians; Clara Nightingale, Ed Sheeran, Adam Levine, Brendon Urie from Panic! At the Disco, Taylor Swift. Her favorite were the award shows though. Through them, she got to meet all her favorite actors. And was inspired to start designing on her own clothes after seeing so many fabulous looks. She got to model and do some acting. In her free time, she ran a very popular fashion blog/youtube channel.

The press had always loved her. To them, she was Marinette Stone (Jagged didn’t want her real name released to the media). She was always on the best dressed list, frequently seen with various celebrities, and could be found on the cover of various magazine.

However, when Marinette was eleven, she begged her Uncle to let her go to school with other kids. She was getting older and she wanted to have some type of normal childhood. It took him a year to agree. Her uncle Jagged had become quite protective over the years.

So Marinette went back to Paris. She cut her hair, used her given name of Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Her Uncle bought a grand penthouse not too far away from her new school, and whenever he was gone her bodyguard, a sweet woman named Harlow who was former CIA, was in charge of her. She started at her new school with a smile on her face.

Not long after, she became the hero Ladybug.

Everything was great. She had friends, a normal social life, went to school with other kids her age. She wasn’t constantly being followed around by paparazzi. She still ran her fashion blog and had frequently updates. It was perfect.

It took two years for it to go bust.

The reason’s name was Lila Rossi.

And she was the biggest liar Marinette had ever met. And Marinette had grown up in the entertainment industry.

Lila made wild claims that the other kids just ate up. A simple google search could refute all of them. The ones Marinette could stand was always about Jagged. Like her Uncle, or an airline, would be reckless enough to let a kid race on to an airport to save a cat; not that Jagged had ever own one. Fang was territorial.

Lila made her out to be a bully, and slowly Marinette lost all her friends. Her only one left was Adrien, her partner Chat Noir. The blond and Marinette had modeled together a few times and he had recognized Marinette despite her new looked but he kept it a secret. Because of their history, Marinette developed a crush on the other and Adrien was quick to lose his crush on Ladybug once he found out it was his dear friend behind the mask.

When Marinette was exiled to the back, Adrien was quick to join her (much to Lila’s fury) and nothing could change his mind. Mostly because he was sick of Lila always touching him despite his vocal protests, and Bustier not doing anything about it.

Soon Marinette things started being messed up or destroyed; her homework, her sketchbooks and pencils, her jacket. She was tripped and called rude names. Her cellphone, (Well one of her phones. She had two; one she used as Marinette Stone. One for Marinette Dupain-Cheng; a number only her classmates had.) was filled with mean texts.

Bustier caved to demands and had her excluded from class trips and events due to being a negative influence; again Adrien decided not to go either, and Lila was Akumatized once he said this. Marinette hadn’t been surprised. Bustier always ignored the bullying and harassment clearly happening in front of her. Still, Marinette decided to start recording her classes a hidden camera on her desk, on the corner of the celling and even on top of the whiteboard behind Bustier. It was just in case anything took a serious turn.

Still losing all her friends because of a few promises and dreams of glitz and glamour had been a wakeup call. Her Uncle had warned her. Her Aunt Penny, who Jagged had married with Marinette was ten, had warned her. So did Savage, Ashley, Cleo, Austin, Clara, and Niklaus. They told Marinette to watch out for fake friends and gold diggers, coattail clingers and desperate wannabes; people who would sell out every secret she had to the paparazzi behind her back just for five minutes in the spot light. So called friends who would do anything to get ahead, to get famous.

And it was clear that’s who most of her ex-friends were. Even Lila learned the hard way. When she told Alya about her mom meeting with some important celebrity about their Go Green initiative, this wasn’t a lie as it would turn out. However, the glasses-wearing girl posted it online, despite Lila legitimately asking her to keep it a secret. Lila got in big trouble with her mom apparently.

The teacher, Bustier, was awful but she always had been. Marinette ignored it in the past because at least she had her friends. But if that witch told Marinette to be a better example one more time, it was over.

           Everything came to a head after Marinette got expelled, granted she was brought back after evidence that it was impossible for her to have cheated surfaced, and the bluenette decided enough was enough. She finally gave in and told her Uncle everything.

           Jagged was pissed. He cursed up a storm; enough to fill the swear jar ten times over and buy Marinette a car.

           It took a while to get him to calm down. And to convince him that Marinette could handle it. She had a plan.

           Still, she remembered that Uncle was a wild card.

           Friday, during lunch, Marinette was eating in the cafeteria, when suddenly the lunchroom doors burst open, “Marinette,” Jagged called as he entered, trailed by a happy Penny and bodyguards “Where’s my favorite little fashion designer?”

           Marinette just sighed.

Adrien smirked at her; looking way too amused. The jerk must’ve known. She had thought it was strange that he wanted to eat in the cafeteria. The two rarely ate on the school grounds, opting and preferring to go to local restaurants rather than deal with terrible food and pesky classmates. Still Marinette didn’t mind as long as they away from her classmates. And they did.

Kagami, Aurore, and Claude gave her perplexed looks.

           The students in the cafeteria went wild. Girls and guys screamed, and tried to get pictures. Jagged ignored them and went straight to Marinette’s table, walking passed where Bustier’s student at lunch. Alya shook Lila’s shoulder and pointed at Jagged, and loudly asked if Lila could get her an interview. Lila looked horrified.

Jagged beamed when he reached Marinette, “There you are, you’ve been ignoring my texts,” He accused. Which to be fair, Marinette had been. Her Uncle had been coming up with way too many revenge plots to be healthy. “I decided I need a new look for the VMAs; something rockin, something tasteful, something to show remind the world the amazingness that the Rock Gods have blessed them with.”

“I’m at school,” Marinette told him.

           He smirked, “Then Learn to answer a text,” The Rock star shrugged. “But fine; we can talk later. How about at my concert, yeah. You and your friends” he motioned to the kids at Marinette’s table, “Can have backstage passes. We’ll talk then. But I really want you to wow me. Maybe get a matching hat for Fang too.”

“Fang?” Adrien asked innocently. Still Marinette could practically hear see the script he was reading off of.  “Is that your cat?”

           Jagged gasped as if insulted, “Cat? Do you think I’d ever own anything as ordinary as a cat? Me? Jagged Stone?! I should be insulted, mate. I hate cats, always have. Never owned one, never will. Fang’s a crocodile. Marinette’s knows. Fang loves her.”

“That is strange,” Kagami shot Marinette a smirk which caused Marinette to nearly hiss at the betrayal. Kagami knew too?! “Lila said you did.”

“Lila?” Jagged asked. “Who’s Lila? I don’t know a Lila.”

“Lila Rossi?” Aurore offered. “The Ladyblog practically swears in an interview that Lila Rossi saved your cat from being hit by a plane or something.”

           Jagged scoffed, “What a loud of bull! Any journalist that believes that is not worth the pen they write with.” Gasps were heard. “But I heard that rumor. Didn’t know where it was from. Thanks for letting me know who I should sue. This Ladyblog and Lila Rossi will be hearing from my lawyers.”

           It was a photo finish as to who fainted first; Alya or Lila.

           Lila went home right after that. This caused the reactions of the class to be split. Half the class still defended Lila; refusing to believe their golden ticket was lying. The other half was ready to burn her at the stake; they had carried her books, done her homework, wrote her notes, nearly everything for her.

           Marinette just sat back and watched with amused eyes. If they thought this was bad, they hadn’t seen anything yet.

           That weekend Marinette Stone released a video on her blog about bullying. She had been mentioning her own trouble with bullying for months and people had asked her for more information.

           The title of the video was:

           Bullying Stone: The Expose

           In it Marinette revealed that at her school she went by Marinette Dupain-Cheng, her real name, and had a new look. She told about how much she liked school at first. And they what changed; that it all started when a new girl arrived and started telling lies about celebrities about Marinette. She told the story of how she was expelled; and just how many procedures were broken when it happened.

           Marinette used the recordings she had of class, and even showed up the horrible texts she got.

“As you can see the teacher does nothing,” Marinette frowned. “It’s all happening right in front of her and she does nothing. In the next video, you’ll see someone being sexually harassed, in front of the teacher and she doing nothing about it. And then what victim blaming looks like. Again, as a reminder, all these videos and pictures are unedited.” She had offered to blur Adrien’s face but he declined, and even appeared in the video too and talked about his own experience.

           At the end of the video, Marinette looked straight at the camera, “Anyone can be bullied; famous or otherwise. If you’re being bullied; speak up. Tell your parents, your Aunts, your Uncles, your siblings, your cousins, teachers who you know will actually do something about it. I waited too long to tell someone. I regret that. They thought what they were doing was hurting me.  They thought I’d be miserable without them. They thought I’d cry and break and come crawling back to them. They thought wrong. You can bully Stone but it takes a hell of a lot more than that to break it.”

           The video went viral in an hour. And people were angry. The people who knew Marinette and loved her were beyond furious. Jagged, even more so, as he hadn’t seen the videos before, read the texts.

           Marinette Stone’s phone blew up with texts and calls. She was tweeted and retweeted thousands of times. And she got far too many, ‘You want me to kick their asses for you. I can kick their asses for you,” texts. But she had known she’d get them.

           The Ladyblog was ripped for lies by celebrities who been lied about on site and fans.

           Gabriel Agreste, Adrien told her, was pissed about what had been happening to Adrien, in front of a teacher no less. Lila Rossi fired. And if Lila ever had dreams about working in the fashion industry, they were over.

           Savage, after berating her for not kicking Lila’s ass, told her he and the gang (Austin, Cleo, Ashley, and And Niklaus) was coming over for some Mario Kart and artery clogging fast food.

           When the call disconnect, Marinette got a text from him.

Why did you sic Fang on them?

And that’s a five for the swear jar!

           Marinette couldn’t stop laughing.    

[batarella]

The Bullet: A Sequel to The Commander - Part 7 *FINALE* (Jason Todd x Reader)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH THIS FUCKING FINALE I SWEAR. HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY BECAUSE THIS IS THE MOST ACTION PACKED FINALE I’VE EVER WRITTEN.

WORDS: 14349 WARNINGS: FIREARMS, VIOLENCE, DEATH

MASTERLIST

THE BULLET MASTERLIST

-----

Strapped onto the wheel chair like a rabid circus freak, Y/N knew exactly where she was headed. She just didn’t know what for.

With her neck being held back she could only look at the bulbs of white fluorescent light that continually passed by her and couldn’t do so much as look at the ground. Plenty of guards were around her as well. She didn’t bother struggling, nor did she speak. But there were even more armed guards lining up, going to wherever she was going as well. All the way up to a white room.

A mission. Her first mission with the squad. Just delightful.

“Deadshot?” the guard near the door asked. When the ones carrying her wheelchair gave him her files, she was let in.

She was the last one to arrive. Because everyone had their eyes on her the moment she graced them with her presence.

The first one that caught Y/N’s eye was, of course, Amanda Waller. With the room littered with her goons and guards, the woman stood at the very front, against a blank wall with her hands behind her back and her eyebrow quirked up right at Y/N. Y/N squinted her eyes back at her, some sort of a decline to her superiority, and Waller looked amused.

Then when the guards parted to make way for her, she was brought to the very center of the room, where there were five rather familiar faces giggling and snarling at the newest member of the squad. The one at the center, Rick Flag, ordered his men to place Y/N on the leftmost side.

Those faces, the ones she’s seen more often than she wished she had. Some already knew her. Some hated her. And some simply didn’t care.

Harley Quinn. Of course, out of everyone else in the room, was the only one bubbling with laughter and other nonsense spurting out of her mouth. She was waving her legs around the wheelchair like a little girl would on a swing. And she was staring at her, laughing. “WE GOT A NEW GIRL ON THE SQUAD!!!” she bellowed out. “WHAT?! DEADSHOT’S NEICE. THAT’S NEPOTISM RIGHT THERE.” Y/N ignored her.

The one beside her was someone she didn’t know personally, someone she’s never even met. They said this guy came from Australia and robbed almost every bank there was. Captain Boomerang. He, too, was strapped to a chair, though he wasn’t as loud as Harley. Y/N saw him eye her head to toe while he bit his lip, and she shot Boomerang a knife-like scowl before his eyes got too comfortable.

The next one. Killer Frost. A beautiful woman with ice-white skin and the hair of an arctic fox. She didn’t give Y/N so much as a glance. Most probably because they had her stored in a coffin-like chamber with only a glass window where her head could be seen. On the inside, she could see the glass covered in frost, and the chamber looked cold to touch. She was calm, reserved. And looked on at Waller’s direction.

The creature beside Frost was the one she really wouldn’t want to mess with the most. The largest in the room, with blue skin and a body ten times the mass of any human being possibly could be. He had the head of a shark, eyes red like her optics. He even had a fin sticking out his back. and he was muzzled and strapped standing upright with five more guards around him. Y/N could hear him growl, wordless, and when she caught his eye, he snarled at her.

Finally, El Diablo. The quietest out of the bunch. His wheelchair looked just like hers, except his hands were completely covered by iron cylinders, probably filled with ice cold water. The man was covered in tattoos, and he didn’t have a shirt on. His face looked like a skull’s, which made the way he looked at everyone else look more menacing than his supposed behaved demeanor.

These were the dangerous people she’s stuck with, most probably for the rest of her life if all else fails and she’ll never be able to get out. The people that Floyd had worked with. And they were a few of the most maniacal villains there were in the whole country. She wished she could tell herself she didn’t belong. But she actually did. In fact, she had no business going about pretending to be better than all these people. When it came to how much blood they’ve shed, she probably wasn’t too far off from Harley. Maybe even more.  

Y/N was right where she truly belonged. Today, she is welcomed as the newest member of the Suicide Squad.

Waller stepped out to the front. “Y/N, your team. Let’s cut to the chase. We don’t have much time. Bring out the files.”

These files were then projected onto a holographic screen against the wall behind Waller. It was a photo of Scarecrow.

“Some of you probably have heard. Just yesterday, Dr. Jonathan Crane released his new toxin in the National Bank of Gotham.”

The screen started to show footage of what went on in the Bank.

“Our first mistake was thinking Scarecrow had launched the same kind of toxin as the last time, but as the surviving victims were brought out to the stations, they continued to showed the side effects of the toxin, including mania, hallucinations, homicidal tendencies, unnatural human strength, and even cannibalism. Even after being held for observations for more than twenty-four hours, they, unfortunately, could not be brought back.

“Which means that Crane had finally developed a fear toxin that causes permanent effects to anyone who does so much as inhale the gas…”

She heard guards shuffle and hold their guns tighter.

“I have a question!” Harley screamed, holding her hand up despite it being strapped to the chair.

“Flag. Muffle her.”

“Muffle me!? What do you-MMMMM!”

“As I was saying. The victims were forced to be euthanized when none of the doctors could bring them back. One hundred-twenty people died in the incident and the whole country is in a state of panic.”

“MMM MMM MMM?!” Harley asked.

“Yes. The whole country. Months ago, Dr. Crane had blackmailed the crime syndicate Carmine Falcone, who he instructed to forge buy outs of several other Gotham businessmen, stole almost all their money before hiring a certain hitman-“ she stared at Y/N. “-To assassinate them all one by one before his shortcomings are detected. That placed Falcone’s total net worth to be almost two hundred billion dollars. Or so we thought.

“After Falcone’s death, Crane had already taken all the money for himself and had used to build what might be the end to all of mankind. A new Cloudburst weapon. This time large enough to engulf the whole country in his new toxin, as well as a brand-new militia army of hundreds of men guarding his device. Mankind as we know it will be haunted with his obsession with fear and we will all be nothing but goddamn zombies.”

“MMMM!” Harley thrashed about in her chair, then she spat out her gag. “Yuck! That was disgusting! I was about to say that gag had a bug and it crawled down to my throat but it actually wasn’t that bad!”

“Harley!” Rick Flag screamed. Harley pouted and stuck out her tongue.

“And what is it you want us to do, Waller?” Boomerang asked with his heavy accent. “You want us to go there and possibly inhale this bloody toxin!?”

The screen turned to a helicopter’s sight. “Last night, we managed to tracked down a dome-shaped building in the deserted areas outside New Jersey with more than five hundred men guarding it inside and out. It is suspected that the weapon might be hidden somewhere in its center. Your job is to go there, eliminate Dr. Crane and his army, and destroy that weapon with whatever means necessary.

“And as for your concern, our teams have developed a mask for you all to wear. It has the filter to go against the toxin. We found it on one of the Arkham Knight Militia’s men and developed our own.”

Oh. Shit. That. She totally forgot. Man, how time flies.

“Let’s not waste anymore time. Flag. Take them to the airport and give them their gear.”

“Weeeeee!” Harley squealed as they started wheeling her out of the room.

Y/N had no idea where to start, if she even had a place to start.

Everything Waller mentioned, it could all be traced back to her. In so many ways. And she knew it. Everyone in the room probably knew it. It was only fair that she be involved in trying to correct it at all. She had no business complaining or thinking she should be somewhere else. This was Waller’s way, hell, this was the whole goddamn world’s way of handing to her what she truly deserved. And she was so tired of constantly being the cause of hurt and pain. So many mistakes, costing her everything she’s ever known to love. She really, truly belonged here. More than Harley. More than Killer Frost. More than anyone else in the squad.

Because without her even knowing, she’d been involved in this mess before any of Scarecrow’s plans were even thought of. With the militia, the Cloudburst, Falcone’s assassinations. In so many ways, none of this would have happened if not for her.

But did she even have the time to blame herself? When it would barely do her any good?

As Y/N was taken to the plane, beside the other members of the squad, she focused on the buzzing and Boomerang’s rants and Harley’s cackles. She even caught the eye of King Shark and didn’t budge.

Because of course, in a way, she was to blame. She knew Crane had something planned when he almost had her killed that one, terrible night trying to lessen the odds of her ruining his plan once more. And another one of her stupid mistakes was to completely forget about it.

They arrived a few hours later. On the military base somewhere in the interstate, even more soldiers and guards waited for them in the barren grounds surrounded by their tents.

She was the farthest behind, the last one to be wheeled out of the plane. When Rick Flag met them at the center where suitcases and crates were being brought out. He waited until most of the squad members had settled.

“Everyone. Stand your ground. Unlock them and give them their gear. If you idiots do so much as look at me differently, I will detonate the bombs.”

“We know the drill, mate,” Boomerang spat at him.

“I know. I was talking to the new girl.”

Y/N’s wheelchair stopped. Then, they were all released from their straps, from their chairs. Harley hopped up and stretched out her arms, then took out her clothes from the crates and her enormous hammer. Boomerang fixed his coat, then he had a single boomerang from his case. He threw it in the air, and a few seconds later, it came flying back.

Killer Frost, with the air suddenly becoming a little chillier when the chamber opened, walked out and grabbed her icy-blue suit. She didn’t have any more weapons. El Diablo was slow to move, but when the chains were unlocked, he got a single hoodie jacket and hid himself from everyone else.

King Shark, on the other hand, put up most of a fight. Terrified soldiers had their shields up when they released him from his confines and he roared directly at Flag’s face. Flag didn’t budge.

Y/N stood up from her chair, stretched her neck, then cracked her knuckles.

As an entire arsenal of guns was brought to her, she stared vacantly at her red and gray suit and the white mask at the bottom of the crate.

That wasn’t her. It didn’t call out to her anymore the way it did just a few days ago. It was a layer of skin laid over her flesh that wasn’t hers at all. She wasn’t Deadshot anymore.

She can't wear this suit.

Y/N eyed another crate nearby. It must have belonged to the other gunmen in their army.

She can make something out of these.

Nobody batted an eye when she started scavenging for parts.

Black body armor, covering her chest, shoulders, and knees. Dark pants covered in straps and holsters on her hips and thighs. Boots that went up to her knees, covered with the pads. And underneath the armor was a dark blue body suit, making her look completely different from her uncle’s red one. Her wrist gun, spray painted blue. And lastly, a black hood with a mask that covered her nose and mouth.

Around her neck was a small silver chain with the diamond ring through its loop. Y/N longingly stared into its crystal, looking back at everything Jason had promised her. How she believed them even when they weren’t so possible. How much she missed him.

She stuffed it under her suit and placed the hood over her head.

Already, she’d shed off that foreign skin. This was her. This was Y/N.

When everyone was ready, Flag came up to the crowd.

“No longer Deadshot, are you?”

“No,” she said.

“Then what do we call you?”

She simpered.

“The Bullet.”

-----

This had to be all theatrics. Not to mention completely unnecessary. Jason got off his motorcycle and parked it right outside the gate.

Somehow, they kept it. Even the fence. And it still had ‘Wayne Manor’ on its wrought iron bars even when the field behind it had been completely emptied out. The ruins and everything left behind after the manor exploded had been cleared out and demolished. Still, they chose not to do anything with the land, even when millionaires fought over it and maybe a few intruders with metal detectors breaking in to look for the Batcave.

Dick told him to meet him and the rest of the family there. He had no idea where, but when he stepped into the gate, Dick was there leaning against the vine-covered fence behind it. Jason wasn’t so sure how to greet him. the last time they saw each other, they were at each other’s throats. Literally. Now at their mercy, he wasn’t so sure what was the quickest way to let his pride down without looking too much of a desperate asshole.

“Uhm. Hi,” Dick said.

“Hey.”

They stared at the grass.

“Are Babs and Tim coming?”

“Yeah. They just got out of their honeymoon.”

“Oh yeah. Congratulations to them.”

“You can tell Tim when we get to them.”

Of course. Tim. The replacement. He can totally congratulate him on his wedding without it sounding too awkward.

“We talk here?”

Dick wrinkled his forehead and laughed. “You thought we were gonna plan this whole thing out on an empty field?”

“This place sure looks like one.”

He threw his head back. “Come on. Follow me.”

Hands in his pockets, he trailed behind Dick. All the way over to the center of the field where there wasn’t so much as a porta potty for them to go into.

Then Dick pulled out his watch, which wasn’t a watch at all, and started to press onto its buttons.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jason sighed when the ground underneath them suddenly started to rumble.

“What? You thought the cave went out with the explosion, too? Bruce wouldn’t let it go to waste.”

Then the grass, which turned out to be fake, had split into a large, rectangular shaped ramp that slowly descended down onto the undergrounds for them to walk onto. When it stopped, Jason pressed on his nose. “I can't believe I didn’t know about this.”

“Come on.”

They started walking down. “Barbara’s the one in charge. She practically runs the place.”

“I can see that.”

When they reached below ground, the Batcave was exactly as they had left it. The last time he was here, he was with Y/N, the Commander. And although they’d changed its entryway, the Batmobile and the Batwing were still there, the computers were still up and running. How massive it was and how bats were still up on the rocky ceiling looking down on them with their beady little eyes. Jason and Dick walked down the driveway and he let his hand run onto the batmobile’s surface.

Barbara and Tim were at the computers. They turned to the two and the way they looked at Jason wasn’t something he particularly liked being stared at.

“Hey, Babs.”

Barbara was the first to smile at him. “Hi, Jason.”

Then when he looked at Tim, who didn’t share the same smile, he stopped himself from scratching an itch on his head.

“Hi… Tim…”

“Jason…” he coughed.

“Congratulations, by the way.”

“Thank you,” Babs said, then she reached out to Jason’s hand. He took it, for a while, then he pulled away.

“Sorry to hear about her,” Tim said.

“I know. But if you help me… and I thank you for helping me now… we can break her out.”

“Did you come up with a plan?” Dick asked him. Jason, arms crossed, turned over to the computer. Barbara had already gone ahead with looking up Scarecrow.

“If the squad is being sent out to deal with Crane, they might be going after that new weapon of his. We can go after them there and get her out before anyone sees.”

He stared at his hands. “I was hoping Babs could come up with some sort of devise that can disable the bomb in her neck.”

“Dick already told me. Don’t worry. I came up with something this morning.”

The three men followed behind her as she wheeled over to the table next to the keyboards.

“This,” she held out a device shaped like a thick pen. “If you can get her to settle down, you stick this thing to the back of her neck and it will send shocks right up to the nanite bomb. It should give it the voltage it needs to be disabled. It’s going to hurt. But it can save her.”

She was an angel. A literal angel. Just the thought of it gave him that little flutter of hope he definitely needed.

“Babs, I don’t know how to thank you…”

“Don’t worry about it. We’re here to help you.”

Two years ago, he had this woman kidnapped and sent to Crane, gave her the death scare of a lifetime and almost had Tim killed when Scarecrow had him captured.

It was too much. How none of their faces looked the least bit bothered. Dick held the pen and took off the needle cap, flinching, then he gave it to Jason.

Jason looked down on it, clearing his throat.

“I’m sorry…”

Dick, with his arms crossed, Tim leaning against the table, and Babs looking down at her hands, they all didn’t have much to say.

“I’m sorry for everything I did to you. All of you.”

“Jason…” Dick rubbed the back of his neck. “We used to be brothers-“

“No, I… I couldn’t. When this is over, I’ll be out of your way. And I owe you. All of you… But I shouldn’t stay…”

“You can. And you will. No matter how much you push yourself away… We’re here for you…”

Tim never looked up. But Jason knew, that if he were in his place right now, he’d be all over him with the ‘I told you so’s’ and the snide remarks. But the younger man was silent, didn’t even look at him the wrong way.

And that’s when he really felt like shit.

“We’re happy you came to us for help,” Babs said.

Jason hadn’t figured this part out when he reached for their help, but he knew something like this was about to happen. It was the entire reason why he didn’t want to. Because somehow, when it did, these guys won't hate him anymore, and he’ll end up hating himself instead.

Dick placed his hand on his shoulder. For a moment. Then when Jason’s body tensed, Dick pulled away.

“Now,” Babs went over to the computer. “Time to hack into the government.”

-----

The helicopter landed some distance away from the dome. The Bullet still had no idea why it was shaped that way. Just that it was new and humungous and completely littered with army men guarding every inch of it.

She, Harley, Boomerang, Killer Frost, King Shark, and El Diablo stepped out at the front lines, with Rick Flag right behind them, followed by their own army of men, though a number considerably less than what they were going up against. They had to be smart with this and break in.

They went into the forest, out on the fields. The dome was in a level ground lower than the lands around it, shaped in a circle, much like it was on a pit that was about two or three stories below ground. They crouched down on the bushes when they started reaching the edges of the pit and Flag looked out on his scopes.

“They’ve completely covered the perimeter.”

“Do we just attack?”

Flag put down his binoculars. “We are. To keep them distracted. When everyone’s backs are turned you six go in there and finish the job.”

“You say it like it’s so fucking easy,” Boomerang snarled. King Shark gritted his sharp teeth and growled staring at the armed men around the building.

A hand grenade. Right at one of the trees. It got their attention enough, especially when Flag started firing at the guards stationed just outside the entrance. Crowds of Scarecrow’s men, armed to the teeth, ran the outside grounds to go after Flag’s men. They drifted down the pit, outstretched their legs, and handled them at close range, while some stayed at the trees firing from afar.

The Squad, on the other hand, were all the way over to the other side. Almost all of them had ran off, except for two who stayed behind guarding the backside.

“Bullet,” Frost placed her frosted hand on her shoulder. It made her shiver. “You're up.”

The Bullet took out her sniper and shot down those two men almost at the same time. Then they slid down the side, King Shark rolling down with his immense weight. When another of Scarecrow’s men ran out the door, a boomerang landed on his head.

The door was locked. “I’ll take care of it,” Frost said. Boomerang scoffed, “Fucking metas.”

Holding out her hands, fumes of ice shot out from Frost’s palms and froze down the locks. King Shark kicked the iced hinges down, then the door fell to the ground.

“That was easy!” Harley skipped inside with her mallet over her shoulders. Diablo was still silent, still with his hands in his pockets.

“Don’t jinx it, Harls.”

It looked more like a warehouse by the entryway. And there was absolutely nothing inside save for a few cylinders and water tanks and a whole lot of pipes being guarded.

“We should probably sneak inside.”

“Sneak!?” Harley snorted at the Bullet. “Honey, we don’t do that here.”

King Shark growled at her, then he walked straight up to the center of the room.

“Intruder! Open fire!” the soldiers screamed.

“What is that thing!?”

“Just shoot!”

King Shark walked slowly towards those men, and the bullets just bounced off his incredibly thick skin. He held out his hand, stopped the bullets from reaching his face. Then when the soldiers had backed too much away and reached the wall, Shark grabbed them by the face and actually hurled them all the way across the room.

“Time to play!!!” Harley screamed, then she held out her mallet and started swinging it over at the guards.

Killer Frost had the ground frozen over, slipping the guards off balance, then shards of ice rose up from the ground to impale them. Boomerang had a more melee approach but had his trusty weapon to go around when he needed it.

The Bullet. The new, almighty Bullet. She pulled up her hood and mask and took out her AK.

She fired at the dozens of men going after her. Jumping on top of the cylinders, standing on the highest ground, she shot down anyone who came remotely close to her and had their bodies on the floor before they could even touch her feet. Over and over, she changed the magazines, took out more ammo. She let the gun take charge of her hands and head. A lot of the were swarming her, from different directions. Eventually too many of the soldiers were surrounding the pile of crates she stood on and the others started climbing up.

She couldn’t escape. Even if she were able to take them all down.

Until a raging fire shot out like a car-sized flame thrower and took out the guards that were climbing up. The water tank didn’t seem to have been damaged, but the men on it were burnt like a crisp, and they all started to run away. “Jump!” Diablo screamed.

She did, and she landed on the fire as well. She rolled on the floor to put it out before it got to her skin and Diablo helped her up. “Thank you.”

“Just go.”

She nodded, then with her pistol and wrist gun, went on to keep firing.  Frost had a wall of the men being stuck to the block of ice, some completely frozen inside it, then King Shark let out an animalistic shriek before he punched the glass, destroying it into shards and impaling everyone inside.

Harley, on the other hand, just went on spinning around with her mallet, screaming, manically laughing. The bitch was insane.

“A little help here!” Boomerang called out. He was being held back by two men while another was punching at his chest. The Bullet pointed her wrist gun and fired at his attacker.

Even more men were coming. From the doors to the inside.

“We have to keep moving!” The Bullet cried out to them. To the door where the reinforcements kept coming from, she kept firing as she backed away. The whole squad moved, onwards towards the door. Then when they’d all reached it, Frost froze over the door with more than five layers of ice.

There were sounds of bashing and hitting against the icy door, but it should be enough to hold them back. Before them was a long, seemingly endless hallway. It should probably be leading them to the inside of the dome, where the weapon is.

“Ahhh. The Suicide Squad…”

“WOAH WOAH WOAH where the hell is that comin’ from!?” Harley screamed.

The intercoms. Scarecrow was watching them. The Bullet put on her optics, now shining blue light, and looked around.

A camera. Right at the corner. She shot it with her wrist gun.

“And you have the Commander with you.”

“FUCKING SHUT UP!” The Bullet shot another camera hidden away.

“The Commander, huh,” Killer Frost looking at her head to toe. “You work with him before?”

“Shut up.”

“OH MY MOLLY,” Harley placed her hands on her mouth. “YOU'RE the Commander of the freakin’ Arkham Knight!! I remember you!”

“We should go-“

“I have so many questions. Huge fan. HUGE fan. Ya know she’s drove the first Cloudburst?”

Boomerang crossed his arms. “And they sent her to help us? The fuckin’ nerve of this scumbag coming up here actin’ all hero.”

“You watch your mouth, kangaroo.”

Diablo snorted and chuckled. Boomerang held out his weapon. “You want a piece of this?”

“A kid’s toy?”

“Don’t you fuckin-“

King Shark roared at the two with his mouth wide open for a good ten seconds and deafened their ears. The Bullet wiped his spit off her face and scoffed.

Frost led the way, all the way down its halls. When they reached a large gate, she froze it over once more and Shark beat it down with his fists and his foot.

They didn’t know they’d reach the center of the large dome. They thought they had more rooms to cover.

With the building so big, they thought it would have taken so much more time to reach the core.

But already, they were met with a cylindrical glass tank that was almost as thick as an entire building in itself, and it lit up the room in a menacing red light, all around. It was swirling, even boiling inside. And it shot all the way up to the roof, three stories high.

It was the fucking toxin.

The squad backed away.

Dozens of men surrounded them, all around the dimly lit room. And it was larger than any of them could have expected. It was circular, and there was only a suspended walkway that went all around the sides. There was a runway to the center, where there were controls. A man stood by them. A man with a rag on his head.  

All of them with their hands up.

Scarecrow’s voice was on the intercom, and it echoed all throughout the dome loud enough to rattle their eardrums.

“I assume this wasn’t what you’d expected?”

No. Not even a little. This wasn’t what they expected at all.

They didn’t expect to already reach the weapon.

Or rather. Stand on top of the weapon.

The weapon wasn’t a ray gun or a tank or even a satellite. It wasn’t something so small that it would have been easily taken down by a tank or even King Shark’s fist. Even when it was to engulf the whole of America in its toxin.

No. it was none of that.

The Bullet trailed her eyes down the numerous pipes going up and around the walls, through the floor and over to the room where they just came from, where even more of the toxin was stored in tanks and the pipes that went around it.

The Cloudburst wasn’t inside the dome.

The Cloudburst was the dome.

-----

It didn’t take too much time. It wasn’t the first time Barbara had to hack into the American Government. In fact, it was the easier to hack into than some people’s private accounts.

She went into Amanda Waller’s files.

“Here. Finally.”

Dick, Jason, and Tim stood behind her.

“It looks like they’ve already sent out the squad. Just a few hours ago.”

“Who are in the squad?”

The files on Task Force X. Babs took out the profiles on all their subjects.

Harley’s picture was first to come up. Her blonde hair and vicious eyes staring at the screen. “Harley Quinn, of course. We got Louise Lincoln, also known as Killer Frost.”

The boys watched on.

“El Diablo. Captain Boomerang. King Shark. Rick Flag’s being sent out there as well.”

Then she stopped scrolling when Y/N’s picture and profile came up.

Jason’s heart broke. It did every time he does so much as look at a photo of her. And with that one, a mug shot, the mug shot that was going around every news station in town, the brokenness in her face, the darkness in what used to be the brightness in her eyes, how much rage she had for everything around the world, he hitched his breath.

‘Y/FN Y/LN

Age: 23

Alias: The Bullet’

He smiled at her new name. A sad smile. The most painful kind.

He missed her so much.

Setting his head to the side so they couldn’t see the tear that had seeped out, Jason swallowed and shut his eyes.

“Jason…”

“I’m alright. Can you find out where they were headed?”

Babs smiled at him, then went back to her keyboard.

Zooming in on the helicopter footage on the dome, she traced its coordinates.

“Is that-“

“Scarecrow’s base? Most probably.”

“Jesus,” Jason sighed. “I used to work with that guy.”

“This is the weapon, alright. The sensors are through the roof. We should be heading out there.”

“Do we have a plan?”

“Not exactly. We’ll know when we get there,” Dick said.

“We have to hurry. Who knows when that mad man actually detonates his bomb?”

“How? It’s two hours away.”

“Man,” Dick pat his back. “You really have to get used to working with us now that we’ve got Bruce’s old toys.”

Of course.

What else could he have possibly thought? Get there on his bike?

The Batwing was staring right at their faces, almost taunting them with its silent growl. Dick, Tim, and Jason walked up to it side by side.

“You think he’ll be happy with that?” Jason said.

“Not at all. He even threatens to kill us if we get anywhere near the wheel-“

“Which is why I’m here to drive, Master Dick.”

No.

No.

It couldn’t be.

The sweet old butler, came up from behind the computers where there must have been a room for him to stay in, he held out a tray of four glasses of water for them to take. Setting it down on the table, he gave Jason the sincerest smile.

“I’ve missed you, dear boy.”

“Alfred.”

He wanted desperately to go up to him, give him the biggest bear hug until his bones crack, but Alfred held his hand up to him and just handed him his water.

“It’s better if we skip the ol’ reunion. We catch up after we’ve saved your girl.”

Everything was here. Everyone was here.

Clearly, it wasn’t the time to get emotional. And goddamn, he wasn’t the one to get emotional.

And all the more did they look like a family when the three boys suited up. Dick with his black and blue Nightwing suit and domino mask, Tim with his bo staff and red and yellow suit and cape. And Jason, with his hooded jacket and red visor.

Facing each other in a circle, Nightwing, Robin, and Red Hood took in how they were all now in one team, possibly for the rest of their career. No longer will they fight. No longer will they run.

Oracle smiled at the three. “You all look great together when you're not at each other’s throats.”

“You sure you won't let me drive, Alfred?” Robin said to the butler.

“I had specific instructions from Master Bruce that if you were to inherit the cave, no one was to drive the Batwing but me. You have until I die, Master Dick.”

“Awe. Even in his death, Bruce still doesn’t trust us.”

Laughing as they went in, Alfred had the Batwing soaring into the sky. Silently.

They were going to save her. Them. His family. The one he’d left. The one he thought he hated. The one he almost got killed.

He couldn’t possibly have done anything to deserve this.

With his visor up, he went up to Dick.

“Dick…” he choked.

His older brother turned to him, smiling. He knew what Jason was thinking.

And he didn’t let him speak to make things unnecessarily dramatic. He knew he had his brother back. Dick pulled him into a hug. A sweet, sincere hug that tore out every part of him that wasn’t already consumed by that string of humanity he once had left inside him.

“Thank you,” Jason said to him. Dick patted his back.

“We missed you, Jaybird…”

Jason closed his eyes.

When they pulled away, with Tim watching, he never actually got the change to get to know him. But one of these days, he will. And he’ll be a brother to him, too.

Jason nodded at him, smiling. Tim nodded back.

He never, ever would have thought they’d accept him like this, to help him like this.

And if Bruce were here, he’d have no idea what to tell him. But Jason did forgive him. He forgave him before he even knew he did. Maybe, if Bruce were anything like Dick and Tim, he would have accepted Jason back into his house. He would have helped him, as well.

He let himself think that. For his own sake. For his own peace.  

Not long after, they reached the site.

Nightwing, Robin, and Red Hood stood at the Batwing’s exit doors.

-----

Harley must have had the worst of issues for her to be laughing this off, whistling as she marveled over the room. “I have to admit, Ragdoll, you cer’ainly out did yourself than the last time! I remember when all it took was Ivy’s tree to get rid of your toxin!”

Boomerang scoffed. “A tree?!”

“Gag her.”

“Awe, come on! What is it with you people and the gaggi- MMMMMM!”

Held back by a dozen of Scarecrow’s gunmen, with so many of their guns pointed right at their heads, they stood on their knees, hands tied to their backs. They watched Scarecrow walk over to them from his place near the glass. He chuckled, that low, dark, breathy, and utterly disgusting laugh when he went over the squad.

“MMM! MMM? Mmm…” Harley said to him when he passed by her. All he did was glare. When he passed by Frost, he eyed her body and how icy smoke was coming out of her pores.

“Ya know, this ain’t personal. I’d totally be into this. But we got an explosive stuck to me spine here, mate, and I really just don’t want to die,” Boomerang said. Scarecrow ignored him and walked over to Diablo.

She looked over. Diablo had melted away the ropes on his wrists and no one even noticed. He stood still, watching Scarecrow, then the rag-headed man went over to the next one.

The Bullet. The only one who actually hated this man to the bloody core.

Scarecrow looked amused at the darkness of her glower. He leaned over, pulled down her hood and mask with his disgusting fingers before she flinched away.

“Lovely to see you once more, Commander.”

“Don’t fucking call me that.”

“I thought I left you for dead. Turns out you survived your own bullets. Perhaps you're not as good as you thought you are-“

“Go to hell-“

“This is hell, Commander. At least, it will be.” When he stood back, he eyed the creature next to her.

“An animal? They brought an animal to the squad?” Scarecrow laughed.

King Shark roared. The loudest, more nightmarish roar. Then he charged after him with his large mouth littered with almost three rows of teeth on each side. The guards pulled him back, shot a taser to his arm, but it didn’t do much damage.

Scarecrow backed off and immediately he was guarded by his men.

“Kill him.”

“No!” Killer Frost screamed, but even she was held back by three guards.

And it was the most cruel thing they’ve ever seen. The Bullet watched on, as her fellow squad member was shot with three tranquilizer darts. He fell to the ground, unconscious.

Then Scarecrow’s men took out a grenade.

Shit.

They stuffed it into King Shark’s mouth.

And the squad looked away when it detonated not even two seconds later.

His head was blown off. Much like it would have been if Flag had done it himself.

Five of them left.

Against an army of hundreds.

“Now. You all get to watch as the entire country slowly descends into their deepest, darkest nightmares…”

Scarecrow went over to the center, over to the controls where she saw a bright, beeping light coming from one of the screens. She didn’t have so much as an idea about how this was going to blow. Will the building be going along with it? Is everyone going to live through it?

She should know. She was the one who detonated the first Cloudburst.

They were two hours away from the city. And the government already had most of the people in the area evacuate to shelters underground. They didn’t have much else to hide.

The guards around them had masks as well. They were going to sit it through, fight even with the gas all around them.

She had no idea what was going to happen. But all she could do was sit and watch.

Scarecrow pressed the final button, and on the screen, it showed a minute’s countdown

The Bullet closed her eyes.

There was a heat coming to her wrists. Out of view from the guards. A little flame, floating about. It melted away the chains that were around their hands, and suddenly, she could move them around. She looked over at Diablo and thanked him with a nod. Harley and Boomerang were free as well. Frost, on the other hand, rejected that fire and instead froze over the chains herself. They could charge.

But the guards were too many. She couldn’t just attack.

Time was running out. There was nothing they could do.

But they can shield themselves. At the last second when the guards couldn’t react.

“This is… the Cloudburst!!!”

Three.

Two.

One.

BOOM!!!

“EVERYBODY, GET YOUR FUCKING MASKS!” Boomerang screamed. The five of them grabbed their filter masks from their suits and held it against their mouths. Everything was shaking, an explosion large enough to almost take down its walls, then the glass started to break. The gas was leaking on the inside.

Scarecrow didn’t move. He just stood there, amused, all the while his guards started to panic, panting and coughing and tearing the masks off their faces like it only hurt their skin. She ran out of the way before a guard fell to her body, clutching his throat, before he started screaming the ghostliest noises a human could possibly make.

Then their skins. No longer did they look remotely human. They looked like they were burnt out. Their whole body turning into scabs and burnt flesh. The toxin was eating them from the inside. And their eyes. She’s never seen the look on someone’s face like that when they were looking straight at their deepest, darkest fears. Not even when she’d imagine it.

No.

He couldn’t possibly-

No.

These men. These trained soldiers promised with almost million dollars each.

Scarecrow didn’t hire them here to defend the Cloudburst.

They were here to serve as victims for his horrible toxin that turned them into vicious, mindless zombies. And they looked exactly like they would have in their visions of fear, the ones you’d merely hallucinate with his old toxin. This time, they weren’t hallucinations. The nightmarish creatures of the dark, Scarecrow had turned the people’s fears into something real.

The squad, with their masks on, held tightly onto their weapons, watching the horror in front of them unfold.

One of the creatures ran after Harley, so she swung at it with her mallet, crushing his body against the wall. It didn’t even look like it had human bones that cracked when it was hit.

No. No. No.

Everyone started firing at the creatures coming after them. At their heads, at their animalistic mouths. Frost on one side, freezing the incoming animals into an ice block, and on the other, El Diablo, firing at them with an enormous raging fire. They had to get out of here. There was no possible way they could win this here. Not with the Cloudburst looking like it was about to break.

The Bullet fired at everything she could see. With her AK on one hand and her pistol on the other. But the seemingly endless array of lifeless minions came crawling and pouncing right at her. One of them scratched her arm. She hoped this fucking toxin didn’t work through cross contamination.

Scarecrow, he was still at the center, watching it all unfold.

Scarecrow.

Scarecrow.

Fucking Scarecrow.

The Bullet screamed out, even with her mask, then opened fire as she made her way into the center walkway. She ran to him and pushed everything out of her way, blowing their brains out, jumping onto the railing and running on top of it. She took out a grenade and threw it at a crowd.

Jonathan Crane caught her eye. And with the deathly look on her face, he lost his amusement.

Then the coward started to back away.

She growled and tore through everything, running after Crane. He didn’t have much else to go.

So in a split second, she fired at his leg. The Bullet could have easily fired at his head.

But she wanted him to die from a bullet right between his eyes, that were to look right into hers in the last few moments of his life.

Scarecrow was on the ground, crawling. The Bullet walked right up to him and grabbed him by the collar. Then she aggressively slammed him against the glass where his horrible red toxin was leaking out.

“You killed my son…”

“You did that yourself-“

“No,” she tightened her hand around his neck. “No, I didn’t.”

A pistol. Right against his head. She ends this now. His story ends now. His reign on earth. His madness. His nightmare.

She couldn’t hear the bullet fire out of her hand.

But she did feel the blood spatter when it entered Jonathan Crane’s skull. She heard the crack, and the impact against the glass. She saw the look on his eyes, staring right into her. Taunting her. Waiting for her to pull the trigger until it stayed that way until the worms eat up his body.

The Bullet threw the body on the floor.

She was never, ever going to kill another human being again. She made that promise. To Jason and his family.

But if she were to kill just one last time…

She wanted to make it count.

-----

“Holy…”

“Shit…”

“We were too late.”

“Or the squad failed…”

“No,” Red Hood choked. “No, they can't be dead.”

“They might still be alive. Get your masks on. Come on.”

They put on their masks, Red Hood’s under his visor. As they ran towards the enormous mushroom-shaped cloud of smoke that was spewing violently out of the dome. The ground was quaking enough to feel like it would eventually erupt. And if they were to stay, it might actually split open. They ran towards the center.

And before they could go down the pit. They saw them. Right when they stepped into the are completely engulfed in the horrible red toxin.

They saw the creatures.

In army uniforms of what used to be humans, the creatures were screaming, running and clawing their way around the grass and bushes like they were rabid wolves under a full moon. The bodies, or what used to be bodies, looked like undead carcasses that were walking on their hands and feet. When they caught sight of the three, they started going after them.

Someone grabbed Nightwing’s shoulder.

Rick fucking Flag. He had a mask on.

“You kids better stay away. This is our mission.”

“You really want your boss’s goddamn pride to get in the way of actually saving the world? We’re here to help!”

Flag fired at one of the monsters coming right for them.

“Scarecrow’s baited his own men and turned them into these fucking shitbags.”

“Then let us help,” Robin said. Red Hood, on the other hand, was already shooting at the creatures with his two pistols.

“Red Hood!”

“Oh, don’t give me that! These guys aren’t human!” He fired at one almost flying for his visor. “They never will be again even if we destroy this thing! So get your asses here and KILL THESE GUYS!”

Rick Flag had went on to shoot them with his AK. Nightwing and Robin stared at each other, holding onto their escrima sticks and bo staff.

Flag, despite his guns, didn’t see one of the zombie-like monsters that had grabbed him from behind. It started tearing at its face, claws sharper than a cat’s. Robin and Nightwing went over to get it off him, but it was too late.

Rick Flag’s mask had fallen off.

He stared at the two, with his eyes glowing red and bloodshot from how he was desperately trying to hold his breath. He started clutching at his throat, and his mouth looked like it was about to blow up.

Flag couldn’t handle it. He gasped for air.

Then he turned into one of them. Right in front of their eyes. Nightwing gripped on his escrima sticks.

Then he slammed it against Flag’s head, destroying what was left of his skull. The guilt started to eat him away, but Red Hood was right. He wasn’t human anymore.

“Come on,” Robin said.

Then they attacked everything that came their way. They had to go into the dome. Find the Squad. Hope for the best. But the creatures were running out of the doors like they were in need of air. Hundreds of them in a stampede going out into the field. The trees had cleared, blown off from the explosion. Everything was barren and had fallen under a thick red cloud of his fucking toxin.

Red Hood managed to run all the way to the center. He shot one that had wrestled Nightwing to the ground before he slid down the pit, hands and legs outstretched, and even then, he continued to fire. He reloaded his guns and started firing at the ones going out of the dome.

----

They couldn’t possibly take them all.

So as the Squad rushed down the hallways, out into the first level where it had gone complete barren and destroyed, El Diablo continued to shoot his flames from his hands at all the incoming creatures.

Finally, they reached the door and they all raced outside.

Frost barred the door with her ice, as much as she could, and the monsters were pounding themselves against it with their own bodies and heads. The Bullet, facing behind them, fired at the incoming creatures that must have been the reinforcements waiting to be called. Fuck, there were a lot of them.

Killer Frost couldn’t handle it and the creatures had broken her wall of ice. Unnatural strength. One of the side effects of the toxin. Harley screamed her battle cry and started swinging her mallet around. El Diablo with his flames. And Captain Boomerang with, well, his boomerang.

The Bullet, with her machine gun, fired at ten of the creatures in under a second. She flew in the air. She dodged their incoming attacks. She fired directly at their heads and took out more of them than anyone else with a gun. She fired relentlessly until their heads were blown off, their bodies exploding onto the floor.

She climbed on top of a nearby truck, dropped her carbine, then used her wrist gun and pistol to fire at everything that moved.

“WOOHOO! GO NEW GIRL!” Harley screamed. The Bullet smiled, then went on with her alternating shots until she’d taken down dozens of them.

Everything that moved. Everything that moved. Everything that-

A red hood. Red visor. Gray jacket. And a red bat symbol on his chest.

Oh God.

The asshole.

“Jason!!!”

Red Hood turned around.

A wave that had crashed on the shore, violent and forceful, a wave that tore through everything in its way. Every tree. Every bush. Every doubting thought. The Bullet jumped off the truck, ignored the sting up her knees. She ran to him. She ran to him so fast that two of the monsters smashed into each other when they were going after her. Red Hood recognized her and dropped everything he had on him and sprinted to her way.

The wave was there. A crashing, powerful wave. When they landed in each other’s arms so painfully tight she could have almost fallen over if she hadn’t already clung to him with all her might. All that was left of it.

Yes.

Yes…

Everything lit up. Everything was here again. He was everything. He will always be everything.

It was a miracle they lived through it. Red Hood, with his arms shaking as much as the ground was, buried himself into her and didn’t let go until they heard the world calling out to them, demanding that they give them their attention back. But even then, they held on. Not when they thought it could have been the last. Not after they’ve just been apart. Jason pulled away, raised his visor so she could look into his eyes. He wore a filter mask underneath. And if he could see her smile right then, she was sure he was grinning his face off as well. She could tell with the way his beautiful eyes crinkled up.

“I fucking love the suit-“

Then she held out her arm and shot one of the monsters coming for them.

“We should move.”

“Yeah.”

Side by side, having each other’s backs. She knew something felt wrong fighting with the squad. No, she didn’t belong there. She never fought as well as she possibly could when she was with her partner. Now the Bullet and Red Hood, they fired and shot at everything that came their way.

“Throw me!” She screamed at Red Hood. She run up to him, and he grabbed her legs. Red Hood flung her up at the air and she fired relentlessly at twenty creatures hidden behind the truck. She got to the ground.

Then the fucking Batwing flew in and started firing.

“Woah!” The Bullet yelled.

“How cool is our butler!?”

The monsters started running towards the Batwing, and their attentions were slowly taken away from Red Hood and Bullet. Alfred had them covered.

“We have to get that bomb off you.”

“Where’s Flag? He’ll blow up the bomb if he sees me-“

“He’s dead. He can't blow it up. But we still need to get that off of you before Waller does it herself-”

The Cloudburst dome exploded once again, this time a thicker cloud of smoke blew out of it like a bomb. They held onto the ground, eyes shut. Red Hood grabbed onto her and she swore by her life that she was never going to let go.

When it subsided, they stood back up. “Come on.”

The Bullet stared at him dumbfounded, then the Red Hood grabbed her wrist, pulled her to the back where they could find Nightwing.

“Dick!!!”

Nightwing saw them, slammed his sticks into the creature’s guts, then ran towards them.

“I found a chair at the back. She needs to sit down.”

They moved fast. Waller will find out Flag is dead and detonate all their bombs before they’ll have a chance at escaping.

So they put her into a chair, and she gripped onto the arm rests. The Bullet watched Red Hood give Nightwing a pen-shaped device that had a needle on its end. She swallowed. “Hey, hey…” Red Hood leaned in and held her face. “You're gonna be okay… Scream if you have to… It won't take too long.”

She wished she could see his face. It was the only way she could ever be comforted. But his touch was enough. She held his hand, squeezed it, then Nightwing held her neck.

“Ready.”

Alfred kept firing at all the creatures coming after them. They had a few good minutes.

Y/N screamed out into the air as the needle went into the back of her neck and electrified that one spot by her spine. She gripped onto the wood. She forced her eyes shut. She never felt so much pain from being tased down but with it came the relief feeling that bomb actually stop beeping in the inside of her flesh. The shocks were excruciatingly painful, and it made every agonizing second pass by as long as a minute would have taken. Red Hood turned his head away before the look on her face broke his heart even more.

But the moment it stopped, with her body up in light smokes, she felt everything inside her calm.

It was gone. The bomb was gone. She could actually feel it. Red Hood grabbed her and pulled her to a hug immediately.

“You're safe now…”

“I love you.”

“I love you…”

Robin suddenly jumped at them and took out three incoming creatures with his staff. “Come on guys, Alfred can't handle all this by himself!”

Nightwing. Robin. Red Hood. Bullet.

Like they were all made to fight by each other’s side.

Nightwing smashed his weapons against a monster’s head, threw its body up in the air with his knee, then the Bullet fired at it with her wrist gun all the way down to the ground. He helped her up, gain higher ground, then she fought at Nightwing’s side when he took out the ones coming for her back. Robin, with his bo staff, slammed one right at the gut and let it fly through the air until Red Hood slammed its torso with his elbow, before shooting it in the head.

Red Hood shot three with his pistols, but one of them grabbed him by the head. And man, was it inhumanely strong. Nightwing slammed his stick right through its skull, just inches away from Red Hood’s head. Red Hood elbowed it away, then shot it. The Bullet kept covering them, now with her machine gun. She fired at one going after Robin, at another that had Nightwing in a headlock, and another two that were about to surround Red Hood.

So many were coming to surround her. And as the boys fought them off, she fired at them relentlessly with her gun. She jumped to the ground and fired at them with her wrist gun.

The Batwing was above them, swerving around as it took out everything that stood their way.

The Bullet looked back out at the pit, where the squad was. “We have to help them!” she said.

“What?!” Red Hood screamed. “Are you insane?”

“They just want to live! We all want this nightmare to end! You can go back to being enemies after we’ve saved the world!”

The world. Of course. By now the gas should have dispersed out of the state. They had to move.

The Bullet shot off a creature coming for Harley. And another coming for Boomerang. The man was barely holding up. El Diablo, now a raging monster completely made of fire, tore through everything in its way and burnt down all the monsters to a bloody crisp. Frost was still holding up, doing whatever she could with her ice. And the look on her face when Nightwing came along and hit one of them in the head before it could grab her, she couldn’t describe it.

And it was that way for hours on end. The creatures kept on coming. The fires started raging. The Batwing had landed on the ground but kept its bullets spewing out of its guns in a frenzied attack against the hundreds that were still around them.

But somehow, the dome acted as some sort of beacon. Because there were more incoming. From far away. She had no idea if they were still Scarecrow’s men or if they were people from the countryside that weren’t so lucky…

As far as everybody knew, they were dead.

And they were all going after the dome like flies surrounding a light.

Frost had them in a block of ice, then Diablo fried them up like fish. Harley kept with her hammer and almost hit Nightwing in the head. “Harley!”

“Sorry, handsome! Kinda got used to aiming for your pretty head!”

Jason, standing with his back right up against the Y/N’s side. They shot at the creatures with their guns not knowing if their ammo was going to take it.

“Y/N! You think we’re gonna make this!?”

She shot down a foot, an arm, then eventually a head. Y/N screamed. “It’s not looking good but I sure fucking hope so!”

Red Hood grabbed her shoulder and turned her around, firing at one she didn’t see. Y/N got a circular lid off one of the manholes and flung it into three bodies.

“Y/N! MARRY ME!!!”

She could have been grabbed by the head if she didn’t hear it coming from behind. She held out her wrist gun and fired directly behind her.

“I THINK I’VE ALREADY ANSWERED THAT QUESTION!!!”

Y/N used Jason’s body to haul herself up, swinging her leg in a circle around her before she shot all of them on the ground. Jason grabbed a creature’s head with his bare hands and squished it into its bloody bits.

“NO. I MEAN MARRY ME. RIGHT NOW!!!!”

“WHAT?!”

Almost losing her arm, she slammed her fist against its head, throwing it to the grass and slamming her boot onto its face. Jason kept firing with his two guns, faster than he ever could have fired.

“IF WE’RE GONNA DIE, WE’RE DYING TOGETHER!!”

“WHAT?!?!”

Jason grabbed her arms, flung her around him so she could repeatedly kick them down before they got anywhere near them. She fired her wrist gun and cursed when she almost missed. He started handling them by hand, punching, swerving, kicking them down with his awfully strong thighs.

“YOU EVER SEEN PIRATES OF THE CARRIBEAN!?” He smashed drove his gun into a skull and kicked him off. “THE THIRD ONE???”

“JASON, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!!??”

Y/N pressed her back against Jason, and they didn’t stop firing.

“THEY GOT MARRIED IN THE MIDDLE OF A FIGHT. IT WAS FUCKING EPIC.”

“WE’RE GOING TO FUCKING DIE-“

“EXACTLY MY POINT. I WANT TO GET OUT OF THIS WITH YOU AS MY WIFE. DEAD OR ALIVE. I DON’T WANNA WASTE ANYMORE TIME.”

She leapt up in a backflip over Jason and they switched places.

“THIS NEVER WOULD HAVE HAPPENED IF WALLER COULDN’T LEGALLY FORCE ME TO TESTIFY AGAINST YOU. I’M NOT ABOUT TO LET THAT HAPPEN AGAIN. IF ANYONE WANTS TO KEEP US APART, THEY’LL HAVE TO GO THROUGH THE FUCKING LAW!”

“JASON, YOU'RE INSANE!!!”

Five down in a single shot. Y/N kicked them down, grabbed her grappling gun, then shot it at a crate to haul it over to the monsters incoming. Jason went through the whole row of creatures climbing down the pit, and when he had the slightest window, he raised his visor.

“IS THAT A YES?!”

Y/N faced him. and Jason faced her.

It wasn’t even a fucking question. The beautiful asshole.

“YES!”

As they kept firing, Jason pressed on his communicator. “ALFRED!!!”

He tossed Y/N a communicator so they’d both be able to hear him. The butler was still in the batwing, needless to say still firing at all the monsters that have made a mountain coming after it hovering in the air.

“Yes, sir?”

“YOU STILL AN ORDAINED MINISTER?!”

He could hear Alfred sound confused.

“I do believe that is a lifelong thing-“

“MARRY US. RIGHT NOW!!!”

Alfred took out a bazooka gun on the Batwing, a new one no doubt. He didn’t remember Bruce having that when he was still alive, then stook out a crowd of twenty coming after him.

“I’m afraid I’m rather busy at the moment, Master Jason.”

“THEN MAKE IT QUICK. PLEASE, MARRY US!”

“TIM, YOU HEARING THIS?” Dick cried out into the comms. Everyone could hear it.

“I KNOW. IT’S FUCKING ROMANTIC.”

Alfred kept his calm. Then they heard a sigh.

“Alright. Do try not to get yourselves killed, Master Jason.”

“CAN DO!”

Y/N grabbed Jason’s arm, held onto him as tightly as she could, then they turned to meet each other’s eyes. Not after shooting a zombie coming for his back.

“Dearly beloved we are gathered here today…” Alfred fired another bazooka at the crowd. “To join this man, and this woman, in holy matrimony.”

Her wrist gun on a frenzy, she shot at the surrounding monsters and helped Jason kick one down with his knee. They stuck to each other’s backs, firing with their pistols.

“Jason Todd, Red Hood, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Jason’s pistol ran out of ammo, so Y/N threw him a magazine.

“I DO!!!”

She grabbed him, hurled him to the side so they’d switch places, then she started firing at a gun powder barrel she found and it immediately exploded.

“Y/FN Y/LN, Deadsh-“

“THE BULLET! I’M THE BULLET!”

Jason smiled at her with his eyes.

“Ah yes, I do apologize. Y/FN Y/LN, the Bullet, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Alfred fired at the creatures coming up to her just as she spoke. “I DO!”

Endless bullets, flying out of their hands, they fired at everything that came their way, protecting each other, shielding each other from harm’s way.

Alfred cleared his throat.

“Then with the power vested in me by the city of Gotham, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

“DICK, COVER US!”

“I GOT YOU!” Dick screamed.

“You may now kiss the bride…”

Before they’d die. Before it all ends.

They only had a minute before their lungs would give out.

So they ran into each other’s arms, taking off their masks and held their breaths to the best capacity.

Jason grabbed Y/N’s face, pulling her to his lips. Then an explosion happened in the far-off distance that blew off almost everything around them in the air. All except them.

They were one. They were together. Forever. She was his. And he was hers. For as long as they both shall live.

“IS THIS A FUCKIN’ WEDDING?!” Boomerang screamed.

Harley smashed her hammer. “I LOVE WEDDINGS!!!”

Jason leaned down and kissed her despite his chest starting to twist. She grabbed the back of his neck, pushed him back as well. Never has a kiss been more powerful, more meaningful. As far as they knew, they were alone. They were themselves. They were together. And nothing, not even the world, was ever going to pull them apart ever again.

From their first kiss in the meeting room, to the one at the Batcave, to the kiss in her quarters that one rainy night, to the kiss they shared up on that bridge. Everything had boiled down to now. Finally. Finally.

They were fucking married.

They pulled away, stared at each other, and finally they could see the largest smiles on their faces. The places the masks back on and gasped to breathe.

“Shall we?”

“We shall…”

Not a lot more to cover. The fucking monsters were finally starting to run out. And they moved in a dance only they knew. On each other’s side. Never leaving.

They shot, kicked, slammed, tore through the lifeless bodies coming after them and she cried out as another bomb exploded that she threw from her hand. She fought with her fucking husband and man, did it sound like the most beautiful thing in the world.

Nightwing and Robin came up to them.

“CONGRATULATIONS!!!” they both screamed.

“THANK YOU!”

Then Y/N handed them both guns and they started firing at the creatures.

It worked so well.

Finally.

Twenty left. Then there were fifteen. Then another ten died.

Finally.

Gone. All of the monsters. Wiped out.

The Squad was intact. Thankfully, they smiled at the Bullet and they all gathered to the center.

“I can't believe this,” Nightwing said. “But thank you for having our backs.”

“Don’t get used to it, pretty boy, when we wake up tomorrow mornin’ I’m back to slicing your head off with a-“

“Okay,” Red Hood stopped them. “Now we have to figure out a way to stop this.” He pointed up at the beacon.

“Hood,” the Bullet gulped.

“Yes, wife?”

A few of them groaned at that. Red Hood ignored them.

But the Bullet, Y/N, she didn’t look to happy.

She was staring right up at the top of the pit, shivering.

Everyone looked back to what she was looking at.

No.

No…

It wasn’t possible.

Hundreds more. Hundreds of the creatures. From all over the city. Ones with long, blonde hair. Ones that were as tiny as a small child.

It had reached civilization.

No. they couldn’t possibly handle all of them.

Robin looked at Nightwing, whose look on his eyes definitely lost that glimmering enthusiasm that sparked the hope they needed to go on.

And Red Hood.

Well, he made the right choice marrying her.

Jason held Y/N’s hand, and she took it so tightly between her fingers.

The look on their eyes, watching each other, memorizing the looks on their eyes before they go on to their inevitable deaths.

They couldn’t even see each other’s faces.

Harley slumped to the ground. “Well, this is it, ladies and gents.”

Frost screamed in frustration, releasing a large block of ice and slamming it onto the pit.

The monsters had surrounded them now. All in a complete circle. Trapping them.

And they took their time watching them squirm like worms in a tank full of fish.

This is how they die.

Y/N tightened her grip on Jason’s hand when one of the monsters roared and they all started crawling down to the dome.

“T-Tim?”

Their communicators. It sounded like Barbara.

“Yeah?”

“I hope you weren’t saving that favor for anything special,” Oracle said.

“Favor?”

“You know. That favor with Bruce’s friends…”

“What do you mea-“

Like a lightning bolt striking a tree, their eyes shot up at the brightest flash of light.

A golden, glimmering lasso, coming down from something they hadn’t seen flying in the air. The lasso grabbed onto five of the incoming beings and hauled them up.

Y/N’s never seen her up close.

But goddamn, she was nothing like the pictures.

Wonder Woman slammed against the ground on her knee and her balled up fist, letting the soil ripple at her impact. She didn’t have on a mask, but it barely wrinkled her nose. Her striking beauty was made even more obvious when she smirked up at the four, standing up, then took out her shield and sword from her back. She winked at them.

The four were too dumbfounded to move. As victims exhausted or as fanboys and fangirls watching it all unfold right in front of their eyes. Boom tubes coming from different parts in the air, and out of those circles came the heroes they’ve looked up to their whole lives.

Superman tore through a whole row of that were crawling after them with his powerful laser vision, flying through the sky faster than any of Y/N’s bullets could speed through. He grabbed one by the head, flew up to the sky, then threw it against the ground so hard that dozens of others blew up along with it.

Green Lantern made his own machine gun with his ring. He fired at everything that came close to the dome.

The Flash couldn’t even be seen. All they could see was a buzzing red light, powering all around them in circles and taking down everything that was in his path.

Green Arrow started raining down more than five arrows at a time. Ones from above. Ones from the ground. Black Canary ran up from behind them and let out that famous ear-piercing scream that took out everything that was in front of her. Even the grass.

Aquaman came up with his trident, and with Mera following behind, she let a stream of water pierce through the air like shards and a fucking shark was in it eating the heads of everything the water passed through.

Hawkgirl held her mace up in front of her and let her wings force her through the hundreds in the crowd, smashing their brains out with a single hit.

Shazam slammed on the ground, with sparks coming out of his body, then he screamed at the sky and let the biggest lightning bolt they’ve ever seen clear out a whole patch of the land the beings were standing on.

Martian Manhunter transformed into his true alien form then grabbed the monsters with his bare hands, threw them out of the way, and stomped on them with his feet. Or what looked like feet.

Cyborg. Supergirl. Zatanna. Doctor Fate. Huntress. Hawkman. Vixen. The Atom.

They were all here.

They were all going to live.

The fucking Justice League had come to save them.

Never have they seen them all in action. To them, it might have just been another day. But to them? To Batman’s wards. It was everything they ever wished to become.

It was the best, most beautiful thing they could possibly see their whole lives.

Bruce. How much he would have loved this.

Then the ground started to shake once again. The Cloudburst. It let out another load of the toxin.

They had to destroy it now.

Alfred hovered the Batwing above them and opened up the entry way. He waved his hands for them to come in. Robin, Nightwing, Red Hood, and Bullet ran into the Batwing and took their masks off.

“We can't just run off.”

“We have to go help them.”

“Actually,” Alfred said. “I’ve taken instruction from Ms. Prince.”

“She wanted us to leave?”

“No.” Alfred lead them to the windows and the looked out.

Superman, Green Lantern, Cyborg, and Supergirl were all facing the top of the dome, firing their lasers at the concentrated spot at the center. The heart of the Cloudburst. The whole building had gone up in flames, but it continued to fire up in the toxin.

“The Batwing has one more rocket bomb in its ammunition. When the League has the Cloudburst’s core exposed, we only have one shot at firing right at its center, destroying the Cloudburst for good.”

“I’ll do it,” Dick said.

“No I will!” Tim cried.

“Who said it was your turn!?”

“Who said it was yours?!”

“This isn’t a fucking argument, this is the world’s fate in our hands!”

“Exactly, which means I get to fire the Batwing.”

“Well, who exactly has the best aim in this fucking ship-“

Every pair of eyes stopped wandering around. Then they turned to the woman they called the Bullet.

No.

Fucking no.

“I can't-“

“Y/N-“

“Jason, I can't do this-“

“You can.”

“I don’t trust myself-“

“You never miss-“

“Jason.”

She grabbed his hands that were holding her face, finally she could look up at his eyes and see his lips in a smile.

“The last time I handled a tank, it was the Cloudburst… and I missed.”

“It doesn’t matter. That wasn’t your fault. You have no idea how sorry I am for being upset at that, but I know you can do this. Besides, this isn’t a tank. This is the fucking Batwing.”

“Jay…”

“Please. You're the only one who can do this.”

“I’ve never handled anything like this before.”

“You. Can. Do this.”

Looking up at Jason’s eyes, she saw just how much hope he had for her. Then he leaned in and kissed her.

“Man, is he dramatic today,” Tim said.

“Shut up, they just got married.”

When Jason pulled away, the heaviness in Y/N’s chest had slowly started to fade.

Yeah. He was right.

Her husband was right.

She does have the best aim in the room.

Alfred gestured for her to take the seat at the cockpit.  And with Jason holding her hand, leading her to the front, she slowly took the front seat.

Everything was at her control. It didn’t look too intimidating. She pressed onto the buttons and breathed in. Really breathed in.

Breathe. Breathe.

Jason stood back, but not without squeezing her shoulder.

Breathe.

She opened her eyes.

Flying the Batwing over to the top of the dome, right alongside Superman and Supergirl with their lasers still pointing at the center. It won't be long now.

Everything looked brighter. Everything felt hotter. The center of the Cloudburst, at the dome that was once its protective shield.

Irony. She always thought it was what’s going to get her.

Driving the Cloudburst, using it to take down the Batmobile.

Now she was driving the Batwing to take down the Cloudburst.

Yes. Irony certainly did come out to bite her.

But it was in the fucking best way possible.

Doctor Fate and Zatanna had joined in and fired their magical beams at the same spot at the center. Slowly, after each second that passed, she could see its shield slowly start to fade away. A ball around the glass tank of the toxin collapsed. And finally, it was seconds away from its very heart exposed.

Breathe.

The Bullet turned on her optics.

Further. Closer. Brighter.

NOW.

The rocket shot through the Batwing’s bazooka and it came flying out into the air. She waited for that half a millisecond watching it fall to the very spot she aimed at.

Everyone flew out of the sky before it landed on the Cloudburst.

Then the entire dome exploded like a massive nuclear bomb tearing out into the sky with its violently flying debris. The Justice League and the Suicide Squad had cleared out, and with the explosion it took away all the remaining nightmare creatures, dissolving them into the air as nothing but ash.

Everything was loud. Everything was bright. They shielded their eyes away before it blinded them and hid as the dome continued to explode.

They were so high up in the air that they could see the stars up in space despite it already the morning.

And as the bombing sounds had faded…

So did the toxin.

The once red cloud that had covered the sky had dwindled away to its natural white. Everything fell down in beautiful pink ashes. The same ones from when Ivy destroyed the first Cloudburst. They looked up at the sky, and with tears down their faces, everyone leapt in joy and cheered when everything looked as peaceful as it once was.

On the ground where the dome used to be, a crater of soil was left behind. No more creatures. No more darkness. No more Scarecrow.

Everyone took off their domino masks and visors. Dick took Tim and they screamed in happiness, jumped in the air, hugged each other until it hurt like girls at a sleepover. They took Alfred in as well and gave him the biggest bear hug there was.

“DID YOU FUCKING SEE THAT, BABE!?” Tim said into his comms.

Babs was just as ecstatic as they were. “I’M SO PROUD OF ALL OF YOU!!”

“WE FUCKING SAVED THE WORLD!!!” Dick leapt for joy.

“I THOUGHT WE WERE GONNA DIE OUT THERE.”

“I KNOW. THEN FUCKING WONDER WOMAN CAME IN AND DESTROYED EVERYTHING I MEAN HOW CAN ANYONE GET AS AWESOME AS THAT?!”

“YOU SHOULD HAVE SEEN THE LOOK ON YOUR FACE,” Tim screamed. “IT’S LIKE YOU SAW HER AT FUCKING COMIC CON.”

“ALFRED.” They pulled him in. “TELL ME. DID BRUCE EVER DO ANYTHING LIKE THAT IN HIS LIFE?!”

“Well, other than the ten times he’s defeated Darkseid over at outer space, no I don’t think he has.”

“ WE STILL WIN. WE FUCKING DID IT!!!”

“JASON, DID YOU SEE IT WHEN GREEN LANTER- Jason?!”

They looked around. Jason hadn’t joined them in their little celebration.

Jason and Y/N were over at the back, kissing for what seemed to have been the last ten minutes and completely ignoring everything that went on around them. She was holding his face, and he was hugging her waist. Didn’t even stop when Tim cleared his throat.

Dick, on the other hand, had went up to one of the compartments and had grabbed a bottle of champagne they had stored there for purposes like this.

“Can't believe we almost forgot. CONGRATULATIONS TO THE NEWLYWEDS !!!”

Everyone in the Batwing clapped for joy and the couple finally stopped kissing, turning their heads over to smile at them.

“THIS CALLS FOR A CELEBRATION!”

“CHAMPAGNE FOR EVERYONE.”

Jason thumbed her cheek. “You alright with our reception being held in the Batwing?”

Y/N shrugged. “I mean, I wanted to book a caterer, but-“

Jason pulled her face again and kissed her with their hearts light and their spirits so high up in the sky.

A future. She could see it. It was all flashing in front of her eyes now.

Finally, something good had happened out of the series of darkness.

They drank, cheered, partied in the Batwing while it went in a really slow autopilot on its way back to the cave. They hung out like any group of friends would have. Like any family would have.

Jason held her hand the whole time. And Y/N held it even tighter.

This was the end. And it was beautiful, peaceful, promising.

And above all else, it was fucking epic.

-----

EPILOGUE

As if the world hadn’t already stopped surprising them, they continued to go through that very same day bringing them almost to the brink of a heart attack.

When the grounds to the Batcave descended, when the Batwing parked itself in its spot, when its entryway folded down for them all to walk down to, everyone was still in their high, laughing, skipping when they walked down the ramp and out into the walkway.

“Babs!”

Barbara wheeled right towards them and Tim held her in his arms, pulling her up to his level so he could carry her. They all cheered.

“I can't believe you thought of calling the League!”

Babs laughed. “Obviously, you needed help.”

Everyone started talking at the same time, each of them telling Babs one side of the story and how it happened. Explaining in detail how Wonder Woman did this and how Aquaman did that. Even Y/N was so excited she couldn’t stop talking about how Green Arrow’s aim was something she’d admired for so long. A bubble of noise, happy noise. Kids being together.

Like no time even passed. They continued on and on about everything that happened.

Then Jason looked behind at the computers. He stopped talking. His smile faded away. His heart stopped. His whole body stopped.

Everyone saw the look on his face and turned to look at what he was seeing.

At first, he looked just about as regular as any tall man.

And if you hadn’t been expecting it, like practically everyone in the room didn’t, no one would believe it at first glance.

Black shirt. Basic jeans. A jacket over his shoulders. Hair so long it had gone down to his neck pushed back.

But it was him. So undeniably him.

“Oh my god…” Babs whispered.

Bruce Wayne smiled at all their faces. Jaws on the ground. Eyes so incredibly wideset. He didn’t look the least bit bothered.

He walked on over closer to them, hands in his pockets. He stood a few yards away so as to not startle them.

His children.

“Dick…” he greeted.

The eldest choked on his breath. “Bruce…”

Bruce looked over at the girl with fiery red hair.

“Barbara…”

“Oh. My. God.”

Bruce grinned, then he looked over at the man beside her.

“Tim…”

“You're alive…” Tim breathed.

Then when Bruce met Jason’s eyes, everyone parted to give him his way. Bruce started walking towards him, and Jason swallowed on his tongue.

He hadn’t prepared for this.

Not by a long shot.

He thought he was never, ever going to see him again.

He never thought he’d have the chance to make things right.

And now, he did.

Bruce stood in front of Jason.

“Welcome back…” Bruce said. “My son…”

Jason pulled him into a hug, much to Bruce’s surprise. Much to everyone’s surprise.

But he wanted to skip all the thinking and the doubts and the holding back to everything he’s ever wanted to say to him.

Jason forgave him. Already after two years. And it meant so much that Bruce had forgiven him too.

Bruce hugged him back.

Bruce never hugs anyone back.

But he patted Jason’s shoulder and held him as tightly as any father could possibly hold his son. Jason was crying. Hell, everyone in the room was crying. Even Alfred was shedding a tear. Everyone watched on as they fell into each other’s embrace longer than they’ve had with anyone else.

Eventually, Bruce had to pull away.

“I’m so sorry…” Jason cried.

Bruce held his shoulders.

“Jason…” he said. “You have no idea how proud I am of you…”

Jason realized he’s never heard those words before.

He hugged him again, just because he couldn’t hold it back anymore. Y/N dried her tears with her shirt and met Jason’s eyes from over Bruce’s shoulder.

“Bruce…” Jason pulled away. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

Y/N stood straight up. She dusted off her suit. She straightened her neck.

“This is Y/N,” Jason said with his hand on her back. She stretched out her hand, and Bruce took it.

“I’ve heard of you. Your girlfriend-“

“Wife.”

Her smile was so beautiful when he said it.

“My wife.”

Bruce shot up his eyebrows. “I see. Well, it would have been better if we had a talk-“

“Don’t. Do that.”

“I’m kidding,” Bruce laughed.

Y/N cleared her throat. “Such a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“Y/N… I know who you are and who you were…”

“Bruce…”

He nodded at Dick.

“You were the Commander of the militia army. You were Deadshot. You took over your uncle’s old jobs.”

“Bruce, you don’t have to-“

He didn’t even look at Jason’s direction.

“And you drove the Batwing today…”

Y/N was scared shitless shivering on her own two feet. It wasn’t because she was talking to Batman, someone she almost had killed. It was because she was talking to her freaking father in law.

Jason swallowed.

“And I also happen to know… that you worked with my sons like a perfectly trained team and singlehandedly saved thousands of lives…”

Everyone’s eyes lit up. Especially hers.

“What do we call you now?”

“The Bullet,” she swallowed. “I’m the Bullet.”

“Well, Y/N,�� he smiled. “The Bullet.”

Then he stretched out his hand.

“Welcome to the family.”

 -----

MASTERLIST

THE BULLET MASTERLIST

-----

TAGLIST

@everyartistwas-firstanamateur

@sarcasmismyfirstlove

@damned-queen-of-gotham

@idkmanicantenglish

@wunderstell

@birdy-bat-writes

@get-loki

@everyday-imfangirling

@comic-nerd-dc

@multifandoms916

@icequeen208

@offendedfishnoises

@egdolan

@xemiefx

@arkhamtoddler

@elsenthal

@mythicbitchx

@supremehaunter

@lucy-roo

@roseangel013bf

@loxbbg

@reclusive-chicken-nugget

@l-inkage

@http-cherries

@shadowsndaisies

@river9noble

@zphilophobiaz

@annoylinglyaries

@knightfall05x

@flowersgirl02

@hyp-oh-critical

@satan-s-ass

[charmspoint]

Beauty of Jujutsu Kaisen women

A very long and gay rant

We all by now know how well Jujustu Kaisen treats it’s women, especially when compared to it’s contemporaries which I won’t mention by name cuz I hate pitting shows against each other but they flashed in your head didn’t they. Jujutsu Kaisen women are some of the most well rounded female characters I’ve seen in shonen for a good while. I often end up disappointed in shonen girls because they are made with cool ideas and massive potential and usually shoved aside in support of the boys in their respective stories. How many times did you wonder ‘why wasn’t this female character included in this mission, her power would be perfect for it’ or ‘why did all the male characters get intense emotional arcs and bloody fights while the girls stood aside and didn’t even get a scrape on them’ or for me the most frequent ‘why does this woman have to have her whole chest out and barely a silver of clothes on to be confident in her body’. Not to say that women who are confident in themselves can’t dress however they want, I’m a rabid supporter of dress in what feels most like you. But I’ll always remember the recap episode of my favorite anime of all time, presented by a female character who was usually buttoned up to the throat. And the recap episode had her going ‘i decided to be confident in my body!!’ and putting on what essentially was a swimsuit. And the thing is I never once got the impression that this character was uncomfortable with her body. She simply dressed how she dressed because it suited her and suited her personality. She always appeared confident to me, highly intellectual, always the calm presence in the cast and the one who worked the hardest and had the best understanding of the situation. And this was in the show I liked and who, aside from that recap episode, had great writing for their female characters. But there are many other shows who couldn’t excuse this with ‘well its just a one time gag’ because the whole confidence of their female characters really consists of them looking as sexy as possible. And while that is one kind of confidence, it does hurt a bit to think this is presented as the only way a woman can be confident in her body, only if she bares it to the world.

And that really brings me to jjk and how goddamn beautiful every female character is while none of them are used for fanservice but all of them are very confident in who they are and what they stand for. I always felt this way about the female characters of jjk but it really struck me with the revel of Maki’s new design and how feral the internet went over it.

Not to be gay on main but god she’s gorgeous.

And it really struck me how traditionally unfeminine she looks. Her hair’s been cut short, her skirt replaced with pants, very prominent scaring on her face, which I’ll talk about in a bit. I feel like most shonen artists would never dare to hurt their female characters in such a way that it left such a big mark on them, something that can’t be hidden away and something that is openly stated won’t heal over. But the confidence she carries herself with, the core strength of Maki that survived the attack when the man who believed himself better than her didn’t, THE OUTFIT, THE BELT, THE CAPE AAA. It makes her look powerful, it makes her look confident, it makes her look as someone who survives and keeps pushing forward no matter what and that’s what makes her look so badass and so gorgeous that both my tumblr and twitter were flooded with Maki art barely an hour after the chapter dropped. It just feels so so powerful to me that Gege added to Maki’s power and badassery by putting more clothes on her instead of stripping her down. He’s just clowning on every single artists who thinks that making women hot means putting them in bikinis' like son this is what peak design looks like.

This is not even mentioning other female characters like Nobara who we just saw in the last ep and who’s nothing if not textbook definition of self assured and confident. 

I love Nobara so much she’s allowed to be both feminin and badass. Remember how important it was to her to get a cute tracksuit to train in? That’s me, like that’s literally ‘I can’t do this thing if I don’t look cute’ mentality that I have. She’s allowed to care about clothes, she’s allowed to like shopping and looking cute and pretty and she’s never once made to feel like her interests somehow make her less or that she needs to give em up to be a badass. She’s never made to be that ‘all girls care about are clothes and accessories’ stereotype. And her love for fashion and looking pretty never translates into dressing reveling. I love Nobara’s style.

These are pretty clothes!!! They are pretty while also being somewhat spunky and playful. They are loose but still flattering to her figure and her general color scheme. They are Nobara! Idk it’s just really nice to see a female character interested in fashion and with a distinct fashion sense that isn’t based on putting on as little clothes as possible. Especially one that isn’t forced to then keep that beautiful look no matter what, never getting a scratch on her face. It’s so nice!

Like even Yuki Tsukumo who’d I’d probs label as Jujutsu Kaisen’s most ‘proud to be hot’ character looks like this.

Look at the way she struts, this woman knows she’s a smoke show and she owns it. In any other series this woman’s tits would be spilling out of that v neck and her legs would be goddamn anywhere. But look at her she looks like such a fuckin lesbian I’m sorry I can’t describe it any other way. The biker jacket, the mesh v neck, I can’t remember what the top she wears in the last pic is called but it’s good, the goddamn fuckin sleeveless turtle neck, her MIND. She’s obviously very confident in the way she looks and you can read that out of her stance and that’s all that’s needed. Her clothes or lack of thereof aren’t meant to signify that she’s confident cuz her body language already does that. Instead, her clothes tell us about her tastes and therefor more about her.

I’m gonna bring this to the end cuz now it’s just turning into gay rambling and I’ve lost all point besides ‘girls pretty’ but I also wanted to say a word about scars. As I said in a lot of shonen I watch girls aren’t allowed to participate in as intense of fights as guys and they especially aren’t allowed to gain any serious scaring DOUBLE ESPECIALLY on their face. Why? Because you don’t want to disfigure some nerds precious waifu now don’t you. JJK gives no fucks here, it looks you in the face and says ‘your waifu is in a nightmare situation she will get fucked up just as everyone else.’ We see this with Maki’s burn scars being clearly stated to be unhealable but even before with Utahime who is immediately introduced with very prominent facial scaring. 

And hopefully we will see it with Nobara too cuz like...

And I absolutely refuse to believe she’s dead ;-; she’s gonna come back n have a badass facial scar guys I swear.

Anyway to sum up

JJK women: very good

Me: very gay

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 13.1)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER. 

UPDATES FOR WITCHER OF THE NIGHT WILL BE PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY NOW IN MY TIME (GMT +8)

CHAPTER 13

WITCHER OF THE NIGHT MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: Geralt could feel what you also feel and he was cursing the Djinn for making you both feel this way because it was a feeling that was certainly irresistible for one man to ever control. You were in heat, and it doesn’t seem to be such a good idea for the witcher to try and resist. 

Warnings: This is just a filler chapter for the smut in the next chapter. Ahonhonhon! Kind of Jealous Geralt too? Lowkey? Hehehehe. A cute bard and Cirilla having the period-syndrome (I’m having it too rn and I’m thirsty for Geralt or any of Henry’s character. DAMN IT) I’ve given a name to the Djinn they’ve found because I’ve tried searching but found no name for every Djinn they find in the witcher? I think? Reader being so needy and in heat. (The animal type of heat for reasons..) Also, reader is...a virgin. 

Words: 4.5k

A/N: You probably want to strangle me so hard right now, bb’s. I’m in the phase of a writer where I’m procrastinating stuff but not exactly a writer’s block. Just want to do things besides writing all day or I’m prolly just sleepy with no damn reason since last week. 😅😒 

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue! 

Disclaimer: PNG’s used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi. Characters, places and said monsters aren’t from moi as well. GIF’s INCLUDED ARE CREDITED TO THOSE WHO MADE THEM! I DO NOT OWN THEM!

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

"Well, you're in a greater bad mood right now, rat." Jaskier frankly stated, wiping his lute with a cloth.

The night was serene with your heart strings balled up in a yarn. Your emotions consisting of woe with a face as if you lost a shit ton of money. You sat together with Jaskier in the middle of the vast leigh, knees touching against each other as the bard quietly sat with you in silence.

A bright purple evenfall draws nigh along the sky, stars finally becoming visible as you admired how beautiful their skies were. Less pollution and more aesthetic, though a lot more eccentricity happening around more than earth.

You've exhaled one last sigh, mouth in a tight frown as you took notice of the moon that was in replete. A perfect shape of a circle as it shines bright.

"Is the witcher being an imbecile again?" the bard ceased his cleaning, giving you his sole attention as he watched your face contort in utmost upset. But, you chose to just let the sorrow go for a moment, admiring the stars and skies like it wasn't laughing back at you from how delusional you were for having strong feelings for the witcher, "Don't start, Jaskier."

"Your cantankerous attitude shown in your cherubic face tells me that you are gradually adapting Geralt's crabbiness because you accepted the position in being his lover---," Jaskier has managed to bluntly say, carefully placing his lute on the grass as he narrowed his eyes at you, "---Though, it does seem like a sacrifice, small rat. Your kindness shall be missed. I would like to see you try and let Geralt adapt to your naivity and sweetness. The vision is pretty hilarious, if you ask me!"

Your frown even grew tighter when he mentioned the word 'lover', shoulders falling from how dismayed you were from hearing it.

"I'm not his lover."

The bard couldn't help but raise a skeptical brow back at you, remembering what he saw last night. He knew he wasn't hallucinating nor daydreaming, "Oh, so kissing under the moonlight is considered as a friendly gesture in my era now? If so, then this means you wouldn't mind kissing me too!"

He puckered his lips, making smooching sounds as slowly tried to teasingly close the gap between you both as Jaskier pouted to act as if he was about to give you a kiss on the cheek when you've yelped and immediately had your palms over his mouth, gently pushing his face away from you, "Jaskier! What are you even---?!"

He comfortably sat back down and had his knee over his chest prior to the position he had now, which was in criss-cross as he playfully shrugged. His pretty baby blues looking at the darkening sky, "A shame. I've been told by countable lads and lasses that I do kiss like I take their breath away,"

You tutted at that, shaking your head from his teasing and tried to send a hostile sally, "You suck then. Do you want them dying because of lack of breath?"

Your animosity has been curved by the bard. He seemed like he was acting like he didn't hear you as he let his eyes flicker to you again; going on with his jests, "Thank you by the way. I've been sleeping much soundly since the couple of days and you seemed to be having such wonderful dreams every night,"

Bawdy indications were hinted in between Jaskier's words; making you give him a glare that obviously made him grin like he won the lottery; thinking that your previous rendezvous back in Geralt's room when he wasn't around had some provocative explanations.

He didn't know your symbol was hurting a lot more on those nights where Geralt wasn't around.

You brush off his ribald comment, "I didn't do it for you,"

"I thought you were actually asking for forgiveness by calling me a horse's arse minutes ago? You're knowing the blasphemy of our language but totally naive of every monsters and places we have here. It doesn't seem to be such a thing to be proud of,"

Jaskier continued his blathers without even letting you talk, freely letting you give him death glares because he seemed to be more mouthy as days go by. You turn a deaf ear to exhale an exasperated breath, "I'm taking it back. You're still annoying as heck," before unabashedly laying your head down on his lap.

His yakking has been brought to a halt when he'd felt your head fall on his lap, the bard suddenly uttering quizzical gibbers that you continued to ignore as you felt the bracing wind hit your body; appreciating the eventide in quietude.

"Alright, alright! I'm not complaining...Ughm," Jaskier cleared his throat, anxiously scratching his head as he tried his best not to look at you.

The fullness of the moon has been drawing you in again. In a tranquil night, it was as if the stars began to whisper sweet nothings, lately realizing that their soft whispers has actually been your wishes; albeit, you've broken them down together, your whims willing and having no desire for you to actually come back in earth.

With only one thing in your mind, it was to stay with Geralt and his family.

But, do you really mean it? If you would choose earth or their dimension, were you serious that you wanted to stay?

Though, for him; you weren't that sure if he also wanted the same thing. If Geralt wasn't around, you were probably already dead, have been sold by noblemen or eaten by their monsters.

But, the stars seemed to jump out of the sky when you've heard a loud thundercrack of a door that came from the inside of their house, snapping the bard quiet as the noise tugged you out of your happy place; a place that you hoped Geralt came with.

The night has went slower, time ticking a lot more deliberately when one person is probably upset with another. Especially, when the person you were upset with lived in the same house as you and even was the owner of the bed you sleep on.

You were beginning to feel rickety as seconds pass by while Jaskier tried worming out whatever he had asked to Cirilla whom was feeding Kolby with a basket full of obsolete bread.

"Tell me why the back door is now broken off its hinges?" he asked in incredulity, hands on his hips as he had seen the brown, wooden door hanging with all its life, trying hard not to fall.

Hence, as they continued their talk; you couldn't help but massage that aching part of your chest, the one where the symbol laid upon the valley of your breasts as you heavily breathed.

It was attacking again.

The weight and fiery phantom of fingers grasping your heart more severe rather than the nights you had it felt like a rabid monster wanted to come out of cage. Their cold weather suddenly all swelter; as if you were walking on burnt out coals with one person clouding your mind.

Geralt.

You needed him, wanted him and yearned for his presence.

Cirilla gave a blatant shrug of her shoulders; sounding completely phlegmatic as she answered, "I don't know, bard. I didn't scream if that will make you any less more worried,"

Jaskier had his eyebrows furrowed as he keenly pondered as to why their door was broken all of a sudden, "Has there been a beast?" his slim, calloused fingers moved restlessly; dwelling onto what has raided their own home. The bard looked anywhere, continuing to be in distress while Cirilla patted the Hirikka's head with utmost care as she watched him devour everything in the basket, "You mean, Geralt?" she gave Jaskier a once over before turning back to look at Kolby, thoroughly undisturbed that it was the witcher's doing, "---He went out for a second and then came back, breaking the door off its hinges. But, he promised to fix it,"

Jaskier's head veered to where she was crouched in the middle of the living room, his baby blue eyes full of concern as he opened his mouth to tell all his inquiries but was instantly shut closed when he'd seen you hunched in his peripheral vision, palms on your knees as you were breathing like you were being chased by another Alghoul.

The latter took heed of those sweat drops falling on the side of your face as you were heaving deep breaths. Your head was darkening in assailing images of those familiar amber eyes you've grown to be thoroughly fond of; longing to be consumed by those glowing golden aureate.

You've heard someone walking closer to where you stood, seeing Jaskier crouch to give you a scrutiny of his baby blues. Bright azures. You didn't yearn for that. All you wanted was golden. His golden and you couldn't help but whimper, your chest has giving you agony as if you were being pricked in the heart by small needles, "You're sweating like a rabid---rat, are you alright?"

Another deep inhale of your breath; you breathlessly muttered, "I am Jaskier---It's just---" nevertheless, those train of thoughts couldn't be completed by the excruciating pain that ignited a troubled mewl. You straightened your back, making Jaskier stand up as well to scan your face for any signs as to what was happening to you, but only had seen your face painfully contorted in a way that tells him you were in agony.

"It's hot. Too hot," pause. You swallowed the tight knot of confining sensations wanting to be let out, "---Abnormally hot. Hot in two different ways; like I wanna be impaled or something!"

At your most forthright honesty, your statement has made the bard blink rapidly from how blunt it sounded, being taken aback by how outspoken you suddenly become; a thorough change of your bashful self, "You're actually revealing lewd facts that should be kept to yourself. You are certainly not alright!"

You could feel yourself grow hotter, the heat being scorching and aching at the same time. Your legs began to weaken and you can't help but fold like a paper, squat down and the position was utmost impuissant; totally vulnerable with your palms on your ears as you tried to shut down the restless whispering that went on and on; ceaseless as you had no power over it.

Jaskier began to panic; his face brimful of dread, "----GERALT? WE HAVE A PROBLEM DOWN HERE!"

The soughing of breathless whispers were relentless, no matter how you tried to cover your ears; they just keep coming. It was incessant, never ending despite of how they were giving your chest a pain that seem to be unyielding as they went on and on.

Witcher. You wanted the witcher. You needed him, you longed for him.

"Stop saying the word witcher, Jaskier!" you abruptly scolded, sounding too jarring and ear-piercing; void of kindness as you could feel the aggravation going to your head with the additional non-stop rustle of voices. The bard eyed you skeptically as he added, finding your rebuke rather surprising and odd because he never said anything about it, "I wasn't even uttering a word!"

Warm, slender fingers fell on your shoulders; trying his best to comfort you while the witcher wasn't coming down from his chambers yet. Nevertheless, from the moment he'd touch you, the toubadour has received a harsh slap of his hand being pushed away.

"Jaskier!" you harshly spat, your nose scrunched from how discomforting you were feeling.

He was quick to haul his arms up in surrender, stepping a foot away as he looked at you in horror, "Alright---I'm not touching you then!"

Another strained bleat left your lips as you were now fully sat on the floor, holding your chest as you continued to heave, shaking your head from the perpetual torment that tries its best to scream blandishments that sounded abridged. Some were incomprehensible and other words sounded lucid.

Destiny has it's price. It sounded just like a rustle of the winds as the shushed voices continued its onslaught. Two souls, together as one. Bound for eternal rest or a life forever. Zephyr shall protect. You cannot outrun death.

Your whimpers started to gradually increase, mewling in the process when you've exhaled a sigh as the needles seem to turn bigger, "It hurts, I swear it really hurts!" you screeched, body feeling like you were dropped in hot, molten lava as you were hearing foot steps treading in haste, "Geralt's coming, don't worry, rat."

Kolby prowled to where you sat; eternal mewls never ceasing as sexual, pent-up aggression was starting to travel to your head, but you tried to fight them off. Though, it ignited more pain as you struggled. Cirilla suddenly snapped her head to where you were, a tight lipped frown etching her face as she jogged to where you sat.

"Is she okay?" the pretty child asked in worry, watching you battle with something they couldn't see nor feel. Jaskier raised a brow; looking sardonic as he acknowledged, "No, she certainly isn't, Princess Cirilla."

She gave him a lour as she snarled; her riposte sounding a lot like the witcher because of how harsh it sounded, "I'm not in the mood for your sarcastic nonsense, bard."

Jaskier was unfazed as he took her retort like it was nothing, "Ooooh, is this how period--is it called period---does to a lassie?"

They're retaliations had them unaware of Geralt's presence who came marching down the stairs with an unfathomable expression on his face; the trepidation never seen in his features as it was emotionless, never giving anybody the panic that Jaskier, Cirilla and Kolby has been feeling when you've suddenly began bawling your eyes out from the thumping pain.

The witcher hurriedly crouched before you, his glowing amber eyes thoroughly scanning your features if there was anything weird happening; but to his discontent, Geralt noticed none.

He felt everything. Your frustration, pent-up aggression; venereal desires or not, the twinge of scorching ache that can't be relieved due to constraints given from the latter himself when he'd chose jurisdiction over his carnal wishes that you also wished.

But, he'd been bull-headed for his reasons; Geralt was not bargained for the repercussions held because of having no permanent proof that you were also suffering every night.

Just like him. Hence, the both of you needed relief. Corporeal appetites released for the betterment of both.

"She's in heat," Geralt rasped, trying to hear what you've been begging for and he sensed that you were hearing voices that continues to assault you, paining your chest as you were unaware of his presence that loom before you.

"What? Oh, Geralt! Cease the utter balderdash!" Jaskier exclaimed, eyeing the witcher who squat down in front of you.

Geralt's amber eyes has been searching for yours, but you've never let him see as you continued your hushed begging. He had his chiseled jaw clenched so tight, every breath he takes was also giving his chest a potent congesting pain that he can somehow resist. His medallion was vibrating wildly, alarming him that there was magic surrounding him.

Therefore, he knew the pain wasn't just one to disregard because he knew your pain has explanations that is needed to foresee.

Was the Djinn still in there? Keeping you as a host?

No. Impossible. The witcher thought at the back of his head because there were times that his medallion doesn't vibrate whenever he's around you, it only happened now and back then when you were possessed.

It was impossible that the Djinn was keeping you as its master as well. You could die if that ever happened. The seal was gone and never found back in the swamps, meaning to say it was already gone; broke free from its confinement because you already had three of your wishes.

Jaskier couldn't help but notice how clean and fixed Geralt's hair was. Hence, he'd started to acknowledge the aesthetic difference he claimed, "Also, did you just braid your majestic chalky white hair all by yourself?! Or did you do it, Princess Cirilla?" he bargained, utterly stunned from Geralt and his hair being braided, dubiously eyeing the lion cub of Cintra.

But, she only gave a nonchalant negation, "No."

"Oh, the rat did! She did a great job at making you look so feminine tonight, Geralt!"

Geralt paid no heed to Jaskier's teasing compliments, wanting nothing but to roll his eyes but ceased to do so as your fingers began to shake, his mind now in a perturbed fret as his gaze shifted anywhere to see what was causing your whole situation because he sees nothing. A tight furrow of his eyebrows tightly creased his forehead, "---The Djinn has given her effects for whatever the symbol does to her, bard."

Jaskier crouched beside where Geralt is, receiving a truculent glare that made the bard move away for an inch because his bellicose aura was radiating off him too much, "Symbol? What symbol?"

"I'm not showing you her chest." he bluntly chided as a low growl vibrated through his chest, giving Jaskier a hostile look in his glowing peepers.

The toubadour did a double-take, his mouth turning into an offended 'O' as he held a palm on top of his chest as he gestured to your squatted form, "I wasn't even asking you if I could see her breasts!"

"Then, shut up and stop asking."

Jaskier huffed, sulking beside the witcher because of how he'd suddenly become such a grump.  

You've muttered a soft mewl, tightly closing your ears with your palms as you suddenly talked out loud, "I need Geralt. Where's Geralt?!" it was the only name you could hear, echoing inside your head as the heat traveled through your veins, searing and extremely scorching all of a sudden.

Your heartbeat was loudly drumming out of your chest. Sweat dripping down your face as the pain and heat was starting to make you feel lightheaded, his scent crashing through your senses. Earthy, pinewood and a mix of mannishness.

Geralt.

"Don't touch me!" It felt like you were burning; but also finding some aid to the ache as it soothed your heated skin like ice to the fire. You've felt his thick, rough fingers fall on your shoulder, making you jerk back as you looked at him; completely mortified for a second, "I'm here, midget." before the witcher tightened his hold on you, those fingers clasping around your feeble arm as he gazed upon you in deep concern.

"It's alright. Calm down, it's me." Geralt gently hushed your frantic state, softly grabbing the side of your jaw to make you look at him.

When he did, your eyes were dark and dilated, filled with carnal.

"You're having a hot spell," he roughly forced the words out of him, heavily swallowing whatever you were feeling because he's also having the same problems, but chose to restrain himself; doing a better job than any most men would, "A--A literal spell?" you didn't catch his drift and feel yourself breathing deep, his scent soothing your nerves as it also does the same for him.

Geralt shook his head, his fingers strapped on the side of your neck making his hand feel the pleasuring jolt. You've felt his fingers slightly tremble as your eyes were beseeching, those dilated pupils of yours tormenting him, "No. You're in heat, midget." pause. he lowly growled in displeasure, amber eyes pooling in keen, "---which explains your cravings for touches and the need for coition,"

Your face scrunched in pain and a mixture of pent-up frustration, the voices inside your head slowly dying down as it was now drowning in the witcher's unique, baritone timbre of his that was making you feel giddy before a jolt of pain rose up your chest again, "What am I---an animal?! Geralt, make it stop!"

Jaskier and Cirilla listened in silence. However, the bard fidgeted with the hem of his tunic; his mindless frets seeming to come up with such suggestions that will make everyone's mind boggle.

He raised a hand, not before taking a good look at you who had eyes pure of anguish and need which now focused at Geralt before he'd loudly cleared his throat, turning his head to see the witcher in distress from what other methods he could think of other than the impaling,  "I have a proposal and an utterly brilliant idea to make the pain stop!"

Cirilla hushedly snorted, "His ideas are always nonsense. Don't listen to him, Geralt."

Jaskier placed his hands on his hips, pointing a finger at the princess, mouth opening before he was immediately ceased by Geralt himself.

"The princess is right, bard."

The sonneeter noted his lukewarm response, sounding like he actually opposes what Cirilla has reprimanded because all Geralt ever wanted and what clouds his mind is having his way with you, "---Give the small rat what she wants, Witcher. What if the pain carries on as nights go by? Give her the rumpy pumpy since that is always the answer to why an animal is in heat. It wants coitus, or if you've become one soft, romantic witcher; then I suggest to use the word, 'make love'." he emphasized, quoting the word 'make love' with both hands, his middle finger and index one folding as he said the last word with ardor.

Geralt was quick to scowl at that, exhaling an exasperated breath out of his nose as he hummed in protest; giving the bard his meanest glare, "You're saying she's an animal. You want me to take advantage of it?"

"No?" Jaskier quickly shook his head, groaning out; palms faintly hitting his forehead as he tried to act as if he was slapping it from Geralt's unreasonable assumptions. He continued, languidly blinking back at the frowning witcher, "---I didn't even say you would take advantage of the idea, you nincompoop! Then, do you want me to mate with her?"

It took him a second before he'd seen the latter started giving blazing daggers that had fire in it, his words seething as Geralt gruffly barked, "Absolutely not, bard!"

His glowing, amber eyes were boring holes at Jaskier before he lowly rumbled; more so to himself, trying to convince himself that there was another way.

He was dithering the idea of having you; not because he didn't find you pleasant, fetching, alluring or beautiful. Geralt found you in many types of wonderful adjectives he could tell, though mostly was kept inside his mind. The idea of having you, only to himself; ravishing you in ways that he ought to please kept him faltering because of one thing in his mind.

Vulnerability.

The witcher was thoroughly cautious of vulnerability because whenever it happens; once the walls have been broken down, there was always hindrance coming in his way and with the person he'd promised were important, or a person he loved because he knew that once he has you, Geralt was done for no matter how unstable he was.

You'll be seeing things you've never seen nor felt from him as he does the same way.

Especially, that you never came from their dimension and that the feelings he had for you was too strong to even control. But, the voices at the back of his mind was pulling him away from even pouring those emotions down because firstly, he didn't know how to show and second, there was a huge chance that you would also leave.

What if you leave? a person he'd treasured so much begins to leave him again?

Geralt mindlessly gritted his teeth together as he grumbled and grouched, avoiding the bard's eyes as he watched you shakily grab onto his palms that tenderly rested on the side of your face; leaning onto his touch as you looked at him; utterly lovestruck, "We'll find another way," pause. "---There has to be."

Though, it seems like the bard hasn't heard his beseeching and continued with his witful suggestions, "The only way is to impale her to cease the sufferings that the spell has cast upon her by the Djinn," Jaskier promptly stood up on his feet, his anxiety making him blurt out mindless blabbers he could ever think of, "---There is nothing to lose on this one, Geralt. Especially that you're...no offense---"

Geralt cut him off in haste, surly spitting out his words, "There is, Jaskier. Her purity."

Jaskier pointed back at the witcher, completely looking taken aback as he opened his mouth like he was stunned, "Oh." was the only thing he managed to say for the first few seconds before he quietly muttered, "OooooOh. She's a?"

The Ivory haired man gave a brief nod, "Untouched." he frankly informed as Cirilla quietly listened in the background with Kolby howling loudly in the middle of the night like a wolf in disguise, "---Oh! This is an unorthodox for the series of women that you have had, Geralt! Also, she's a rare one indeed!"

Jaskier couldn't help but feel dumbstruck from his suggestions, shamefully scratching the back of his nape as he has given the whole responsibility to Geralt because he could never help. He always never does because of some sorts that he couldn't explain, probably because he wasn't taught with these magical phenomena that Geralt expertly knows.

When the witcher has given you his attention, you've abruptly attacked him in a bear hug, arms tightly wrapped around his thick neck that you wanted to softly pepper kisses. As you were caging him in your arms, his delicious scent wafted through your nose, welcoming how it was indeed mouthwatering for your blazing appetite or carnal greed.

"I want to have you, Geralt. I--I need to have you! These thoughts inside my head...It needs you, I--I need you," you begged, softly pleading like there wasn't anyone around you; not noticing Cirilla, Kolby nor Jaskier as there was only one person in your mind. Geralt of Rivia. Your Geralt. Your witcher. The only person who gives you fluttering butterflies and wild ants inside your stomach and chest.

You've tucked your face in between your arm and his braided hair, breathing the back of his ear like a wild woman as Geralt stood still and heard your whimpers that went straight to his stronghold, his will in finding another method to help suddenly wavering from how soft and provocative it sounded that clouded his mind.

He turned relaxed in your arms, accepting the bear hug and probably loving how close you both were together after hours of not talking to each other. You've felt his calloused palm caress your clothed back, soothing your pained mewls that came after your sensual whimpers as it was unstable. Geralt gently unlatched your arms that surrounds him, his golden peepers meeting your baffled ones before he had no problem in scooping you up in his arms, like newly wed couples.

"We'll think of other ways, midget. Come. Let's help you with the heat,"

Cliffhanger before the smut? I’M SORRY, BB’S. LOVE MEEEE STILLLLLL! 

Taglist: @alyxkbrl​ @himarisolace​ @barkingbullfrog​ @ayamenimthiriel​ @hellodevilslittlesister​ @vania-marie @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us @nympeth @amirahiddleston @gabethelobster @dreaming-about-starfleet @uncoolcloudyhead @melaninstylezz @psychosupernatural @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer​​ @marvelousell​​ @kingniazx​​ @angelias134​​ @tapismyforte​​ @chook007​​ @covid-donotenter​​ @winter-moons​ @cheesecakeisapie​ @silverkitten547​​ @angelofthor​r @carrieannewaywardson @plantingmum​, @stuckupstucky​, @shesthelastjedi​

[ofdragonsdeep]

2: Aberrant

All things considered, it was not a conventional relationship.

(cw: character death, spoilers up to 5.3. This one is LONG.)

2: Aberrant

“Your friends would not approve of your presence here, Warrior of Light.”

The white-robed ascian stood perfectly still, his bearing a sea of calm in the roiling aether around Mor Dhona. What little of his face Ar’telan could see - if it truly was his face, an unsolvable enigma in the wake of what Lahabrea had done - was unmoving, stoic. He seemed to be in perfect opposition to his brethren, what few of them Ar’telan had met. Both red-masked and black, all had been fervent, near rabid in their devotion to chaos and destruction, frothing over with violence and energy. Elidibus was… not.

“You spoke of answers,” he said instead, the corner of the ascian’s mouth quirking up into the slightest of smiles at the sight of his hands moving to form words.

“You do not need to ply me with the crutches used by your mortal brethren. I hear you well enough,” he remarked, turning his head to look out over the vast expanse of Silvertear Lake. “I spoke of the truth, yes, but I did not promise it to you. What have you done to earn it? Other than prove yourself a fool in meeting with me like this.” Ar’telan bristled at the insult, then shook his head.

“If you were concerned enough by our presence to attempt to sway us to your cause, then you should have words to back it up.”

Elidibus was quiet for a while, before letting out a sigh. It was as impossible to read his mood as it was any man who wore a mask, but there was a sadness in his bearing, a feeling of melancholy that settled over him so deeply it seemed impossible to shake.

“You will have the truth when you have earned it,” he said, his voice quiet.

“And when do I earn it?” Ar’telan asked. Elidibus considered the question.

“You will know because I will tell you,” he replied, as though it was that simple. Ar’telan narrowed his eyes.

“If I wanted to be made a fool of, I could speak to Lahabrea,” he said, and - Elidibus winced? It was the first indication in the entire conversation that he had any emotional investment at all.

“I do not mean to dismiss you,” he said, a soft shake of his head to dispel the lingering remains of his slip. “But just as you have no reason to trust me, I have little reason to trust a man so steeped in his Mother’s blessing.” Ar’telan fought to keep his face straight at the comment, though he thought it might not matter in the face of the Ascian’s mastery of the Echo. Indeed, he simply shrugged, unconcerned and unmoved by the potential for uncertainty. “We shall see, Warrior of Light. Both of us.”

“My name is Ar’telan,” he disagreed. Elidibus’s mouth thinned, and Ar’telan imagined that he was frowning beneath the mask.

“Perhaps,” he said, and with a flicker and pulse of darkness, he was gone.

Elidibus was not a hard man to find, if ‘man’ was still applicable to a being made of aether and darkness and little substance. For all he expressed distrust, he was there to listen with an uncanny reliability when tensions drove Ar’telan from the Rising Stones and into the wilds of silvertear. Over and over again Ar’telan pressed him for the truth he professed to hold, mastery over the gift that seemed only to undermine Ar’telan’s own efforts. His disdain for Hydaelyn was clear, but he would never mention her unprompted, and Ar’telan held his tongue on his bitter opinion of Zodiark.

What room for mortals was there when gods warred? What meaning did even the eternal hold against the powers that sought to control them? The only topic that Elidibus held his tongue on was mortality, the only time he ever asked Ar’telan to stop was when he tried to speak of the virtues of mortals. Elidibus was old, older than any time that Eorzea remembered. He had seen empires rise and fall, perhaps even precipitated some of the downfall. But he would speak on anything else - time, the soul, inevitability - but he would not speak on mortality. And he never loosened his tongue on the Echo.

When comfort found Ar’telan in the arms of Ishgard, Elidibus withdrew without notice. When Azys Lla and all that surrounded it left Ar’telan missing as many allies as Elidibus had lost, he returned. There was sadness in his heart, even for the loss of Lahabrea - he had never had kind words for his peer, but mourned him nonetheless. But Ar’telan could not hear that the loss was somehow worse than all he had suffered, that Lahabrea’s death - or whatever his dissolution into Nidhogg’s Eyes could even be called - was somehow worth more than the pain that Ar’telan had felt, the wrenching wound of holding the man he loved in his arms and watching the life drain from his eyes like the blood from his chest.

He did not want to know the truth of the Echo, not any more. Not when he had lived the worst moment of his life a hundred times, powerless to stop time’s relentless march because Hydaelyn had decided that this was what must happen. He had no love for his ‘Mother’ any more, not after Minfilia, not after Haurchefant. But he would reject them all if that was what it took.

“The Echo is not Hydaelyn’s gift,” Elidibus said, the words taking Ar’telan by surprise.

“The Blessing-”

“Is not the Echo. You know this,” he cut in, and Ar’telan bit his tongue, uncertain. “Some with the Echo are blessed by Hydaelyn, ‘tis true. Just as some are blessed by Zodiark. All who carry that power carry the Echo. But not all with the Echo are blessed.” Ar’telan blinked in surprise, shuffling in place to stare at the grass he sat upon. He still made the hand movements to accompany his speech though he knew Elidibus didn’t need them, out of habit - out of fear, perhaps.

“Do they only choose those with the Echo?” he asked. Elidibus - chuckled.

“Perhaps,” he replied, an infuriating, but predictable, response. Ar’telan sighed, and thought.

The Echo was a latent thing. It lived in the backs of the soul, untouched by the fortunate. Of all those he knew with the Echo, he knew none who had been born with the gift. Even Krile, who had been blessed from a young age, had not been born with it. No, they had awoken.

The calamity, ripping his voice and his home from him.

The ice, stealing the breath from Ysayle’s lungs.

Tragedy, robbing Krile of her family when she was but a child.

The sight of death, Minfilia watching her father die in front of her.

Garlemald, ripping through Arenvald’s home and driving him to desperation.

Each of them had all but died, one way or another. The Echo was there, latent and waiting. But not all who experienced tragedy awoke to it. So what did it mean?

“There is something which sets us apart,” he said aloud, choosing his words carefully. “A mortal life awakens to the gift through tragedy. A death of the self. What awakens an immortal?”

Elidibus went quiet, as though he had not been expecting the answer. He stared forwards, though Ar’telan thought he was not focussed on what was truly in front of him. The faintest flickers of his aether-mark hovered around the mask.

“Tragedy,” he said eventually, his voice quiet. “Most Ascians were like you, once. Mortal.” He looked over then, the marks fading as soon as they had come. “And when they understand the Echo, they transcend mortality.” Ar’telan shook his head.

“Is that the Echo, or is that Zodiark?” he asked. Elidibus sighed.

“Both. Neither. It is impossible to separate one from the other. To separate Ascian and Zodiark,” he said. “Just as those with the Blessing-”

“I do not belong to Hydaelyn,” Ar’telan disagreed, anger colouring his voice. Elidibus laughed.

“No. Not you,” he agreed, and he seemed almost happy by the statement. “Never you. But most of those - the woman who led you. What was her name?” Ar’telan felt his throat close up at the reminder.

“Minfilia,” he said, and Elidibus inclined his head.

“She belonged to Hydaelyn, did she not?” he said. “Without a second though, in fact. So it is for us and our master. Ascian and Zodiark. The Blessed Children, and Hydaelyn.”

“Then why do you think that you can change my course?” Ar’telan asked, feeling a sickness in the back of his throat. Elidibus shook his head.

“I do not,” he replied. “For you ever have and ever will do what you feel is right. But if you knew the truth- if you knew, then maybe…”

“I will not stop trying to save people,” Ar’telan disagreed. Elidibus nodded.

“And that, Warrior of Light, is my most fervent hope.”

Truth was a fearful master. When Urianger’s ‘treachery’ was revealed, his companionship with Elidibus and the Warriors of Darkness to save Minfilia, Ar’telan waited with worry in his heart for the accusation that never came. Even Unukalhai, rescued in a strange twist of fate by the emissary of Zodiark despite his soul being steeped in Light, made no mention of Ar’telan’s - friendship? Acquaintance? With the Ascian. Elidibus simply shook his head at the lightly probing question, saying that he had seen no need to divulge such things, irrelevant as they were to the missions they had spearheaded. It was a strange contrast to Lahabrea, who had taken every opportunity he could find to drive a wedge between the allies of Light, taken every chance to grind the man who would be the Warrior of Light into the ground. Ar’telan felt like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, a step closer to his treacherous thoughts revealed with every tiny piece of information he teased from Elidibus, like water from stone.

But it was calm. It was calm for the moments taken between the war that raged across Garlean territory, and it was calm when Elidibus withdrew in the aftermath, though it would be many moons before Ar’telan learned quite why. In each small space, Elidibus kept his counsel, kept the truth of them from even his own allies, though by now he surely knew enough to destabilise them. Surely he knew. Surely.

When the news spread through the upper ranks of the Ala Mhigan hierarchy that Prince Zenos lived, the Scions and those who knew them suspected Ascians. Ar’telan, faced with an empty grave and a space void of contact, thought he could put a name to it. But just as Elidibus had not said aught to put Ar’telan’s position in jeopardy, he kept his silence here, as well.

Elidibus.

The sprint through the Ghimlyt Dark was frantic and hurried, passing by entire clusters of Alliance soldiers that he could have aided, should have aided. The call for help had been clear and frantic, Zenos - though they knew it was not truly him, but a spirit puppeting his corpse. He had to go. He had to know. Somehow it had to make sense.

“Ah, Bringer of Light. It has been too long.”

The sound of Zenos’s voice was like a punch to the gut, all that he had suffered for, all that Zenos had died for feeling small and pale in comparison to the grand game. Ar’telan narrowed his eyes and drew his sword, his shield already in his hand from his frantic run.

“No words to mark our reunion? So be it.”

Ar’telan held the words behind his teeth.

“Equilibrium must be restored… and only your death will redress the balance.”

“Elidibus,” he said, the only sound his ruined throat could make a choking, meaningless vowel. Zenos’s hands gripped the hilt of his katana too tightly, his deadpan voice shaking, just a little, upon the operative word. They stood, eye to eye, Elidibus for the first time taller than Ar’telan himself.

If it came to blows, Ar’telan had said, he would not strike first.

If it came to blows, Elidibus had said, he would not need to.

When he woke in Ishgard, the Light still blazing in angry defiance within his soul, he would swear to himself that there was hesitation, if only for a moment.

“Strange that I would find you here, Warrior of Darkness.”

Ar’telan tensed at the familiar voice, spinning to find its owner. Ardbert - his empty shell. Elidibus.

“Have you come to finish what you started?” he asked. Ardbert’s body sagged with the tiredness that he had seen so often in Elidibus’s aetherial form, the familiar shake of the head his response.

“No. Not here,” he replied. Ar’telan glanced around at the gleaming white streets of Hades’s remembered Amaurot, the half-formed shades that populated it, fading in and out of existence with every breath. It would fade eventually, just like Hades himself had, and Ar’telan had found it difficult to let go of the idea. The shape of the city, the hurried activity that was painted in, a loving facsimile of a beating heart. Ever since he had first arrived here, half-mad with the Light, he had felt like he belonged.

“I made a promise,” he said, and Elidibus looked away, Ardbert’s eyes all but misting with the memory.

“That you did,” he said, voice quiet, and the Echo pulsed like a throbbing vein in his head.

“Strange that I would find you here, Elidibus, and not buried to the nose in books in the library.”

“Ha! A fine jester you would make, if you ever tire of the title you hold now.”

“Artemis claims that you have not left this building since the news broke.”

“Mitron exaggerates. Is this what brought you home, Hermes? The end of us-”

“I miss you when you are gone. When your seat sits empty for you fulfilling its tasks. How I gaze at the window and long for your return. It is unbecoming of one who holds the role of Elidibus.”

“And who makes those rules? You spend too long listening to Lahabrea. For all I wander, I will come home, always. Even if Amaurot did not call me back, you would.”

“We have made a decision, A- Hermes. We will summon our salvation.”

“And what then? Damn yourselves to save the world? This is madness, Zeus! It is-”

“You have made your views clear enough, Hermes, but I cannot afford myself the luxury of hearing them another time. Please.”

“And what of the core? You know what it will take, Zeus! Who would you condemn to birth your ‘God’?”

“I will be the Heart.”

When the visions faded, Ar’telan shaking his head to clear the static from his mind, Elidibus still stood there, staring out towards the Capitol. The look in Arbdert’s borrowed eyes was impossible to decipher, even for him.

“You grow strong in the Gift,” he remarked, voice level. “Did you see aught of interest, Warrior of Darkness?” Ar’telan swallowed back the words. He had long since learned how to keep the most secret of his thoughts from Elidibus.

“When Emet-Selch forced me to fight, he told me a name,” he said, as a reply. “Hades. I promised that I would remember it.” Elidibus closed his eyes, lowered his head. “What name did you carry, beneath the role of Elidibus?”

“I…” he began, his hands clenching to fists around the frustration. “I was… I was…” As suddenly as it had come, the frustration lifted, and he shook his head again. “It is irrelevant. I am Elidibus. That is my role and my mission both. What more matters?” The wisps of darkness that coiled around every tendril of his aether, fire-bright even to the Light that Ar’telan carried inside him now, were almost visible. But Ar’telan knew that none but him could see them.

“I promised that I would remember. That is not just Hades, not just the history of Amaurot. It is all of you, a tragedy shattered through the ages,” he said. “Tell me your name.”

“And what was yours, Warrior of Darkness?” Elidibus threw back, a trace of anger in his eyes now. “You, a shattered remnant of our greatness. What use is your memory, then? You will die, as all the others have died, and it will pass to dust and wash away in the waters of your Mother’s lifestream. What is it worth to give to you what will be lost?”

“I will not be the only one, Elidibus,” he disagreed. “You and Hades both cling to the idea of a saviour. But that is not the strength of mortals. It-”

“Is in your gathered might, I know,” Elidibus finished, though Ar’telan thought he had never said it aloud before. “I know. But what is the point, if you will die? If I will lose and find a hundred more of your echoes, if we… If I…”

“You do not need to chase Hermes. You are more than an echo, more than Zodiark,” Ar’telan said, and at the sound of the name Elidibus stiffened like he had been struck.

“Hermes,” he repeated, breathed the name like a precious relic. “But you are wrong. We are no more than He allows us to be. No more than His will across the shattered pieces of our star. As your striving to keep them broken is no more than your Mother’s.”

“There is value in what we have made. In what you have made,” Ar’telan disagreed. “Even if we burn out and die like candles, our aether lingers. If you have chased Hermes across a hundred lives, would the pieces not find each other, step by step? To seek, to find, to love, a hundred times. Is that not worth it?” Elidibus stared in solemn silence, his face a mask, but the turmoil in his soul like an open book to Ar’telan’s familiar eyes.

“I do not know,” he said, a sentence forced from the very core of his being. “I do not know. But I am whole and there are none left like me. None. So your talk of worth is a fantasy, built in the fragile scaffold of your mortality.”

“Are you whole?” Ar’telan replied. “When you do not even know your own name? When the only thing you have is your duty?” Another silence, though this time Elidibus turned to face him. Ardbert had been old and tired when his spirit had followed Ar’telan across their war of a tiny, broken world, but this look held the weight of aeons upon it.

“I do not know,” he said again, and he seemed scared to say it.

His heart pounded in his chest as he all but leapt up the stairs of the Crystal Tower, a bitter memory to his first climb of its halls, to put down a crazed echo of Xande - a hollow, discarded shell of Hades’s own making, brought back through Allagan desperation. Desperation fuelled him now, and it was not the climb that made his chest tighten, but the knowing of what he would find at the top.

“I cannot sanction this, Elidibus. I will not. If I must forsake my seat to do it, then I will.”

“You cannot leave! Our people live in fear, Hermes, the terror of the end grips them. We can give them hope!”

“We can damn them! We can round them up like cattle to the slaughter and spill their aether at the altar! You have seen what summoning of this magnitude does, Elidibus!”

“The Tempering is a small price to pay for our salvation. For a God who will deliver us - who will save us! What harm is there in compulsion to do good? To save? Is it not what you already do?”

“...No, Elidibus. Not like this. I won’t. I can’t. I’m sorry. I have made my decision.”

“If not for Amaurot - if not for the Council - will you not stay for me? After all we have given, all that I have given…”

“You will offer me up as a thrall to the creature that will eat your heart? So that what remains of you can cling to me in some masqueraded horror of love? No, Zeus. If I cannot stop you, I will not damn us both.”

“If it is to be eternity-”

“It will not be eternity, Zeus. You know as well as I that even the most benign of notions eventually corrodes. I will endure. I will search for a means of our salvation. And if I cannot - when care turns to madness, Zeus, I will find you. I will stop you. I will save you. This is all I can offer you.”

“...A vigil you cannot promise to weather, a compassion I cannot promise to hold. This is what is to become of us? When the end beckons we are to shatter like glass before the blade even falls?”

“I love you, Zeus. I always have, I always will, even when my journeys take me far from you. I will come back. I swear it. I swear.”

“Hermes…”

Elidibus stood, pensive in his reflection, as Ar’telan cleared the threshold. Words that tumbled from his lips, a desperate attempt to reconcile his actions, and with all he knew now Ar’telan wondered if Elidibus even remembered the truth at all.

“You do not have to justify yourself to me, Elidibus,” he said, and the comment cut through the rambling like a knife. Ardbert’s fists clenched, the red-aethered mask appearing across his face.

“On my honour as Elidibus, I will see it done,” he disagreed. “I will save them! I will! For all I have toiled, all the time we have struggled, I will- I promised- I…”

“You are not the only one who has made promises,” Ar’telan replied. “To remember. To see. Perhaps as the years go by, the memories will crack, the tales will warp, just as those who pray to the Warrior of Light do not know they wish for Zodiark’s servants. You wished to protect. To save.” His hand gripped tight around the crystal he had found upon Amaurot’s floor, a gift from a knowing shade. “I will see it done. Protection. Salvation. For all of the land’s children. Even you.”

“I do not need your protection!” Elidibus spat, and the light opened in a torrent around him, a cascade of rifts across the floor of the throne room. “It will not end here! I will carry out my mission!”

“I will save you. I promise.”

“Who for?” Ar’telan asked, and Elidibus all but screamed. A fervent prayer, the light of a dozen half-summoned souls, a blinding stream of light.

“If you would usher in the end, then with my all I shall oppose you,” Elidibus said. Gone was Ardbert’s shell, in its place a gleaming porcelain recreation of what might have been a man. Shield of lightest blue, sword of glowing silver, a bitter mirror of Ar’telan himself. Of the idea of a hero. “As the avatar of those mortal heroes who fought unfalteringly, in all their imperfection!”

In the end, it is our valour to which you cling. Our bright, short-burning flame. Our mortality.

“As the warrior of light incarnate!”

Teeth clenched, heart aching, Ar’telan drew his sword.

And when the light, white-roiling and so strong in its intensity it seemed to strip the soul from bone, came for Elidibus, it was with the heaviness of loss in his heart that Ar’telan turned away, and leant his strength to the Exarch.

“I will come back. I swear it.”

In the quiet, a spirit sat, so small and fragile against the might of the shades in Amaurot. His red-wood mask stained with the promise of tears as Ar’telan took gentle steps towards him. In his hands, thirteen tiny crystals, their light flickering in the motes of dust that carried what was left of Elidibus, inexorably, towards the tower.

Ar’telan knelt besides Elidibus. Laid the crystals each, face up, at his feet. Listened in quiet, the way he had when first they had met, as Elidibus reached out to take them, and fitted back together the pieces that had fallen through the holes that Zodiark’s beating heart had torn in his soul. And as he remembered, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, he looked up at Ar’telan.

“At duty’s end, we will meet again. We will. We will,” he whispered, and reached a hand out towards him. A wave of nostalgia and sadness from a time not his own washed over Ar’telan, a longing and a desperation that every piece inside his soul knew in perfect unison.

“Hermes,” Elidibus whispered, and Ar’telan held his shimmering form in a gentle embrace. It felt as though he was falling to pieces beneath his fingers, slipping away from him the way that he had watched the light leave Haurchefant’s eyes, the way he had felt the light flicker and fade in so many. So many.

“We will remember, Zeus,” he said, knowing that only Elidibus would hear him, praying that enough of him was left to receive it. “I love you.” The sob that Elidibus managed in response was keening, wrenching, and Ar’telan could feel, for the first time, the beautiful, shining aurora of his soul, untainted by tendrils of darkness, unwound from Zodiark like a patient spool and offered to the tower’s crystal.

“I will not stop,” Ar’telan said. “Trying to save people. Mortal and immortal all.” He drew back, and he thought that he saw the ghost of a smile in Elidibus’s flickering form.

“And that, Warrior of Darkness, is my most fervent hope.”

[leviathan-dee]

DMC Week 2020: Day 7: An Enticing Outcome

(An AU day! I’ve recently watched Van Helsing and had the need for masquerade Vergil and vampires. I’ve also never written smut before, so there is a small debut of spice at the end of this story lmao) (Vergil x Reader) (NSFW, sexual content, mentions of alcohol, canon typical blood and violence).

Thrown amidst an exsanguinous masquerade, you were left to fend for yourself, until a handsome and very much animated young noble graced you with his presence in hopes to rescue you from your predicament.

Word Count: 4,682

Characters: Vergil, Dante, Fem!Reader

Read On AO3

A starless night stretched outside the arched windows, an abyssal blanket shrouding the supposed ‘jovial’ celebration. It appeared as though the evening was overbearingly cold, albeit the vermilion glow of candles and chandeliers that peppered the ball. You should be warm. In fact, you should be sweating. However the facade of extravagant foods and fabricated smiles couldn’t possibly hope to mask the cold reception.

You brushed your goosebumps away, before observing the patrons of the masquerade evening. Mulberry silk and crushed velvet fabrics draped over bodies dragged on the tiles, the sound resonating almost deafeningly. These strangers waltzed amongst the golden halls, frozen limbs rigid in their movements. Even the gentle lul of acoustics, violins and pianos, appeared tuneless. Lifeless.

Naturally, the perfume thick air became colder with these observations. You coiled your tense fingers around the wineglass, the liquid within thickly sloshing at the movement. You eyed your drink with curiosity, sniffing the rim of the crystalline glass, before a sickly scent overwhelmed your senses. It was oddly metallic for a wine. You silently took note that the aristocrat your father wanted you to marry had peculiar tastes.

You assumed a doleful smile. Admittedly, you never expected yourself to be handed away to some noble, body and soul, for a fleeting promise of wealth and power. For a mere title, your flesh and blood threw you away like some bleating lamb, ready for the cut. Sad, truly. And yet, here you were, wearing the finest satin gown with an amethyst encrusted mask, preparing to don the title of Countess of Redgrave alongside your future husband.

For one final time, you attempted to swig a gulp of the obscure alcohol, instead gagging at the smell as it hit the back of your throat. You made a wheezing sound, forcing the bile down before it projectiled onto the polished surface of the ballroom. The mask wearing passersby began to eye you with stares that seemed oddly vacant; Perhaps even hungry? You averted your gaze, attempting to keep to yourself, as a morbidity so indescribably visceral, pierced through you at the thought.

Your prayers appeared to have been answered, a towering man with a gaze that gleamed with life graced your presence. The subtle flint hue in his irises was a welcome change to the usual cadaverous stares from the guests. Though their colour was cold, his eyes radiated a fervid warmth.

Tentatively, he approached you, seeking silent permission to close the gap. Your tranquil manner confirmed his wordless request. As he drifted across the polished tiles, you noted he was of highborn descendancy, his frame draped in exquisite brocade, the colour of Siberian delphiniums cascading from his chest in lacy frills. The man’s chiseled jaw was framed by a Venetian mask of vivid golds, whilst his silver locks sat subserviently slicked back. His tailcoat settled on the broad shoulders with nary a sign of creasing on the fabric. You took note that the air of sovereignty appeared to move behind him like an obedient wind.

Undoubtedly, he intrigued you.

A sweet scent of spiced apple and cinnamon gently wafted through the labyrinth of expensive perfumes, as the man finished his approach. It was as if he eclipsed the entire world with his presence. Though his height was intimidating, you felt safe knowing that the rose tint of his plush lips seemed more alive than the population within the hall tonight.

"You do not belong, my lady." The slight adenoidal, yet husky tone of the voice caught you off guard, alongside the strangely insulting statement. Though the sentence was forward and harsh, it was oddly true. You inhaled a quick breath before responding.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Forgive me for my brashness, your courtesy, but I fear a lady of your stature and health must not reside in such establishments, no matter how tempting it may be.” The cordial hum that followed his explanation somehow warmed your chilled core. Becoming aware of the titles he rained upon you, your cheeks began to blaze with a feverish life. You chuckled bashfully in turn, tracing the lip of your wine glass with your fingertips. His eyes followed the movement eagerly.

“I have yet to marry the Count. You need not address me as such.”

“It would be inappropriate of me to address you as anything but your future title, your ladyship.” The man’s tone stayed low yet soft spoken. Falling into deep thought, your fingers continued to circle the rim of your crystalline glass, a sweet melodic sound resonating between the two of you.

“I see. May I ask the gentleman his name, my lord?” As you finished your request, the noble beckoned your hand.

“You may, my lady,” swooping down to a low bow, he palmed your fingers, cradling them close to his face to plant a chaste kiss upon the knuckles, “Vergil Sparda, at your service.”

This noble, Vergil Sparda, kept his gaze on yours with every inch of your knuckles he pecked. A bashful expression spread across your face, the man sighing contentedly at your blazing cheeks. For the first time tonight, you felt welcomed. Welcomed by someone that appeared animated, as opposed to the cold-blooded patrons of the evening.

You took your hand back, already missing the feeling of his velvety lips upon your skin.

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lord.” Feeling somewhat embarrassed at your sudden schoolgirl attitude, one certainly not befit of a future Countess, you averted your gaze in order to regain your composure. It was not a successful endeavour.

“The pleasure is mine, your ladyship.” Vergil seemed to enjoy your abrupt change in posture, dragging out the vowels of every word with his honeyed voice to get another coy response. You wanted to return his teasing with your own coquettish mannerisms, however the exchange took a turn in your stomach, your abdomen becoming a breeding ground for rabid, carnal butterflies.

Trying to keep whatever dignity you had left from your burning cheeks, you proceeded to ponder the man’s goals. He appeared as though he did not belong here.

Come to think of it, neither did you.

“May I inquire as to what your affair with the masquerade is tonight?” Your question appeared to have caused his hand to reach for his silver hair, slicking the loose tendrils back into their place. Vergil fell deep in thought, before reaching for your glass of obscure scarlet liquid. He beckoned the wineglass onto his palm.

“I have business with the Count. A personal matter. In fact…” As he spoke, you obeyed his request for the glass, reaching forward dangerously close. Your fingers brushed past his, the warmth of foreign flesh feeling utterly scandalous.

Calculating his movements, his eyes kept burrowing into your soul, your stomach continuing its somersaults. Albeit the flirtatious moment, he examined the liquid within the glass with a disgusted snarl. Even through the Venetian mask, you could easily distinguish the slipping facade of stoicism, revealing a repulsed frown.

“My lady, have you ingested anything this fine evening? This drink included?” He swished the sanguine liquid, as an almost noxious, metallic odour began veering itself into your lungs once more. You tried not to gag, attempting to retain your poise. You kept your mouth shut in fears of suddenly emptying your stomach onto your ball-gown, instead opting for a vigorous shake of the head. Vergil nodded approvingly, before tossing the crystalline container aside, letting the macabre smelling swill pour in torrential floods down the polished surface of the ballroom. The ghoulish crowd reacted disapprovingly at the shattering sound of the glass.

“Very good. Now, follow me.”

Cradling your hand, the young noble pulled you in like a singularity, both mentally and physically. He seemed hasty, albeit his cool exterior of unwavering stoicism. You both weaved through crowds of marbled velvet, avoiding the dragging gowns and spilled wine . Each patron’s mortiferous faces contorted at the sight of your apprehension and worry. It appeared as though the whites of their eyes were a ghastly porcelain, so unbearably white that they gave off a luminous glow. Even their smiles seemed pernicious in nature, each tooth a sharp rapier ready to gnaw at whatever fell beneath their gaze.

Something felt off.

Sudden panic spread within your frame, your fingertips going numb, alongside an anxiety induced lump of phlegm forming in your throat. Your legs carried you beside Vergil, yet the seductive noble provided you with not a sliver of information to suggest why there was such a rush.

What was his business with your future husband?

What putrid liquid was in the glass?

Why did these guests appear so necrotic in nature?

With each step, your calves seemed to burn with a sweet ache of exhaustion. Undoubtedly, you had enough.

“Stop!” Your plea went ignored, the ultramarine draped noble with eyes of silver continuing on his cascade down the stairs towards the exit of the masquerade.

“Please?!”

“Not now, your ladyship.” Pausing in his surge out of the doors, Vergil turned to you, his arctic eyes pinning you down with an unwavering stare. It appeared as though it was a warning, yet not for you personally.

“Stop calling me that. I am no Countess. And unhand me, at once.” You inhaled a shuddering breath, unsure whether the surging unease was from your nefarious surroundings or the noble’s frigorific stare. You continued, nevertheless, once more attempting to break the silence of Vergil’s gaze.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Away. It is not safe here.”

“Why?” You continued to wriggle your wrist under his iron albeit somewhat tender grip. Firm, yet not once feeling uncomfortable. He wordlessly sighed, tugging at your wrist, beckoning you to follow him. You felt safe in his presence, however each step felt like pulling teeth, your lack of knowledge in the situation filling you with dread. Giving up in your endless tirade of defiance, you followed the noble, his mood improving dramatically.

Each stranger became a grotesque amalgamation of lucid terrors, their teeth lengthening with every inch of the gap you closed between yourself and the exit. Their skin grew rubicund scales, their pupils morphing into sharp slits.

The golden arches of the entrance called to you, Vergil’s steadfast resolve forcing you away from danger, and certain demise.

It all occurred so incredibly swiftly.

One moment you were being protectively held against the silver hair’s chest, feeling his proud melodic drumming of the heart. The next, an ancient, ethereal weapon of foreign lands materialised within Vergil’s hands, flooding your vision with phosphorescent cerulean sparkles.

He stormed at the diabolical crowd, gently pushing you behind him to safety. Within a sliver of a second, the patrons of this nightmarish evening metamorphosed to what you can only explain as vampires from stories your dear mother told you, in order to scare you, and make you obey her orders. Your noble protector, however, made short work of them, parrying each swing of their hungry claws. Lifeblood flowed in rivers. Flesh was torn, and bones were fractured. These fissures within the vampiric patrons’ bodies were endless, Vergil showing no benevolent mercy as he summoned a cyclone of blades to sever body from limb.

Slashing with an unmatched speed, Vergil was a tempest. None could stand in his way. With every attempt at his flesh, the monsters were tossed aside, their teeth still baring and searching for a chalice to drink off. It was inevitable that one exsanguinous guest was lucky enough to swipe at your protector. Swirling on his heel, Vergil barely dodged a gnarly claw, his Venetian veil dropping to the bloodied floor. It was then, that you finally earned a glimpse of the noble’s face.

He was an incredibly concentrated man, the wrinkles upon his visage indicating a permanent grimace. A small, albeit deep, crinkle took residence between his brows. You could not help but become entranced with his features. Even his silver locks had come undone from their usual position, swaying in the wind with effortless ease, framing his sharp jaw. Every aspect of his face was bedecked in grace and grandiose elegance; Expressions of harsh focus, yet features of tender origins.

This fixation was cut short, Vergil Sparda calling forth Geryon, a horse of sublime magnificence. Its sleek surface appeared to reflect the vermillion lights of the ball inside, the horse’s shadowy appearance seeming like a void of pure black.

Snapping his fingers, Vergil ordered you forward beside him, whilst fending off hordes of ravenous predators. Undoubtedly, you obeyed. Hiding behind him, Vergil inhaled deeply before crouching, drawing his sword only a minuscule sliver to reveal the radiating power within its sheath. You observed the peeking metal. It appeared as though it was a pure mirror, reflecting the nobles devious visage in all of its glory.

The ground shook violently, forcing you to steady yourself on the man’s shoulders. As the necrotic beings approached, cerulean energy swirled around the two of you, the air becoming thick with tension and the smell of smoke.

And then… Silence.

Silence that was followed by pained groans and the cacophonous sounds of sliced flesh. The display of severed dimensions, refractions of light dancing around your vision, materialised without a single movement from Vergil Sparda. Your jaw sat ajar at the sudden majestic view. The air seemed to become sliced into many tiny slivers, like paper-cuts in reality.

As the quiet resumed once more, the noble closed the gap between his hilt and the sheath with an achingly slow snap. His lips curled mischievously upon seeing your expression of shock.

“That was- What was that?” Your query went ignored, the noble wordlessly hooking his arm around your waist to prop you upon the horse. Letting out a tiny squeak, you complied, grabbing onto the braided mane of the creature. The noble effortlessly sat upon the steed’s spine in front of you.

“Hold on.” His voice was steady. Husky and low. Whether it was from the battle, or your closeness to him, the sudden change in character concerned you. Nevertheless, you once again complied, coiling your arms around his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat pound against your palm. The scent of cinnamon would have been overwhelming, if not for the splatters of blood that blended with the sweet spice.

It was a tranquil ride, the stillness of the Redgrave forest forcing you to adopt a reticent manner. Though your physical closeness to the man was evident, you still had barriers to uphold. Your head seemed to nod against his broad back, the warmth calming you into the realm of slumber. No words were spoken between the two of you.

Thus, the horse continued with utmost haste.

Away from the masquerade.

Away from the Count.

Away from your title.

…

“My lady. We have arrived.”

The noble hopped off of the horse, his ultramarine shirt ruffles soaked in tar-like blood. Tentative in his movements, he offered you his hand in order to help you reach the floor to safety. Your toes touched ground with a less-than elegant huff resonating from your lungs, with you accidentally stumbling into the towering noble’s chest. An apologetic expression graced your visage. Before speaking, you yawned widely, a small giggle bubbling from your chest.

“Thank you,” keeping your fingers laced around his own, you squeezed reassuringly before craning your neck up to observe the scratches upon his face, “how are you faring? You’re injured, my lord.”

“I’m fine.” Although his voice was firm, his expression was grave. It seemed to soften whilst his eyes lingered on yours. Your own vision appeared to trail around his features, the glimmer of intrigue never dwindling. The curiosity was overwhelming. You wondered how his velvety lips would feel upon your own plush mouth. Would the sensation be the same as the chaste kiss he placed on your knuckles? Or would it be so much more-

Unfortunately, your trail of thought was cut short. The tender, yet focused gaze of the man morphed into one of annoyance, as a boisterous noble sprung forth from a gold embellished carriage, his horse neighing in defiance.

You attempted to wave off your bashful and warming complexion; However, to no avail.

The man appeared identical to Vergil, noting that the noble may be a less stoic twin to your saviour. He was draped in matching brocade, except for the scarlet hues that peppered his frame. His locks also appeared to match Vergil’s current state, cascading to the sides of his jaw, framing the chiseled features elegantly. A broad, genuine smile spread across the man’s lips as you approached beside your saviour, continuing to subconsciously lace your fingers with Vergil’s.

“Welcome back brother, you finally made it. And ahh, Lady Y/N, it is an honour to finally make your acquaintance. I am at a disadvantage.” You attempted a warm smile, your curling lips appearing disingenuous. You instead opted for a curtsy, the scarlet clad man bowing in turn.

“We must leave at once, the Lamiae demons are close behind, Dante.” Vergil ran his fingers through his silver hair to fix its positioning, furthering the differences between him and his brother.

“I beg your pardon? Demons? My lord, explain yourself! Demons?!” A small ghost of a smirk tugged at Vergil’s lips, leaving you perplexed as to why he derived such pleasure from your fright. Holding on to your delicate fingers, he pulled your figure towards the carriage, beckoning you to enter to safety.

“Come on. We need to press on.” Vergil’s brother, Dante, assumed a serious tone which somewhat bewildered you. He returned to the carriage, placing his posterior back into the rider’s seat, whilst whistling to draw the attention of Geryon. To your surprise, the black horse emigrated in front of the carriage. Dante’s arms began to glow with a royal violet magic, a bridle morphing in his palms, connecting him to Geryon and the carriage.

You watched in complete awe. Vergil Sparda noted your wide-eyed stare.

“I will explain everything when we’re moving towards safety, my lady.”

Nodding in agreement with your features still morphed through perplexion, you followed the towering man. The inside of the carriage was a luxurious change to the forest outside. Countless silk fabrics were draped over the seats, swaying with embellished fleur de lis symbols. Vergil gently fixed a section of the silk, letting you relax from the recent life-threatening events.

You sighed as you landed amongst the cushioning fabrics.

Vergil sighed with contentment in turn.

“Me and my brother were to exterminate the threat within the masquerade tonight, the Lamiae. We did not anticipate that their depraved rituals would involve an innocent bystander such as yourself, until recently...” Sitting beside you, Vergil’s fingers laced around yours, gently stroking your skin with his thumb. It was a harmless act of absent-minded tenderness and comfort, yet it felt so much more than a simple gesture. Something amorous began to broil in your stomach.

“I… apologise if I was too abrasive, my lord. You saved me from certain demise, and I should thank you for that.” As you spoke, the noble kept his softened gaze upon yours, drawing your hand to his lips, to place more ardent pecks on the skin. That same feeling of wanton curiosity overwhelmed you as it once did at your first meeting with the enticing man.

“No need to apologise, Lady Y/N. It would be a shame if a woman of your stature was overly submissive.”

For the first time this evening, your name rolled off his tongue. It sent countless lascivious shivers down your spine, your grip on his fingers tightening at the mention. He seemed to note the reaction with his own returning squeeze of your delicate hand.

“Besides, I could not allow a creature of such extraordinary beauty to fall into the hands of that vile Count.” The atmosphere within the chamber appeared to drift into one of attraction, the two of you being pulled in by pure inquisitiveness. Your eyes danced between his own, whilst the blaze within your abdomen and cheeks began anew.

“I- Thank you, Vergil.” You decided to grace his ears with your own utterance of his name. He gave a small smirk, reaching up to a stray lock on your cheek, which he deftly pushed aside to have a better view of your embarrassed visage.

Sitting quietly, the carriage began its journey, Dante whistling a tune to himself, occasionally talking to the horses. You let out some giggles upon hearing the noble’s less stoic twin make conversation with the creatures, and hearing Vergil’s exasperated scoffs at the comments.

Pondering your predicament and the sudden appearance of your timely rescuer, a question bounced to the forefront of your mind.

“Was I to become one of them?” Though the question was harmless enough, Vergil’s brow wrinkle made a comeback.

“Your ladyship, you were no future wife to the Count, but a sacrifice. These demons are vampiric by nature, and rarely ‘recruit’ into their ranks. The Count simply found you worthy enough to… drain.” As the words cascaded from his lips, your nausea returned in full force. Vergil noticed your anxious demeanour, cradling your chin to meet his gaze. Your head spun like a silk throwing machine, the world becoming a hazy mess of subdued hues.

“I am sorry to say this, but your father knew this all along.” His low, yet tender tone flowed through the air. Though tears were meant to escape your vision, your sorrow and grief was as dry as a desert. Nothing could hurt as much as the mention of your own father wanting your death in exchange for a title.

Vergil continued to cradle your face, stroking small circles upon your skin to ease the sting of such news. He seemed to understand this burning feeling. Your eyes met with his again, searching for answers that were not there. Perhaps you were not searching for answers? Searching for comfort instead? Perhaps a friend?

“Truly, Vergil. Thank you for this. How can I possibly repay you?”

“There is no need, my lady. Your company is enough.”

The comment rolled off as a request, rather than as a statement. Your company was his desire,

and you wanted to comply.

For what monstrous contessa would deny this pulchritudinous hunter their reward?

Certainly not you.

As the smell of cinnamon and spiced apple graced your lungs, the thrill of supple lips brushing against yours overpowered the senses. His fingers carded through your hair, mirroring your own movements of trailing fingers through his arctic locks. Your shivers seemed to come in endless waves. His tongue delved curiously at the entrance of your lips, asking silent permission to explore further. You complied once more, parting your mouth, and sighing into his warmth. Tiny mewls escaped your throat, the noble reacting positively to your noises with the nestle of his palm against your thigh, and a possessive, almost hungry, pull towards his hips. Eager to sate your wanton curiosity, you plunged into each others’ embrace in unison, sharing this moment of voluptuous desire.

You hadn’t even noticed the speed at which your clothes were discarded. Vergil’s hands moved along your naked thigh, enjoying the shifting muscle, to meet the folds of your slicked petals. His hands began to travel miles upon the shivering skin of your loins, his fingers tracing your exposed core, finally pushing to the apex of your pleasures with repetitive yet decisive movements. Pump after pump of his fingers against your satin centre, your gaze shifted towards his lustful eyes, his expression reflecting the sheer pleasure he experienced watching your flower unfold beneath him. The mischievous smirk that formed on Vergil’s visage appeared to have pushed you even further into the blissful euphoria he was so easily able to thrust upon you with nothing but his hands.

The feverish yearning for his full glory inside of you was unbearable. You began to plead him, as his honeyed sighs and low growl resonated against your neck, his velvety lips promising release, brushing soft kisses against the flesh. He did not give in, however. His delicate, yet strong digits continued their tirade at your core, pushing you to your limits as you sighed out his name in a delectable, yet hushed voice.

Oh how scandalous this union was. To be stolen away on the night of the masquerade, which your fiance gifted you for the consolidation of two families. How scandalous was it to spend the night with a stranger you barely knew, no matter how tempting it was. You continued mewling into his ear, gracing your saviour and conqueror with euphoria, whilst pondering these vulgar acts.

Impatience appeared to overtake the silver haired noble. His facade of stoicism and composure slipping into one of fervent need for your sweat slicked body against his. Before your very eyes, his skin was exposed to the fervid warm air of the carriage. Unable to control your own carnal need for the man, your fingers laced around his member, his seed beading at your satin touch. A small, almost cautious exhale of gratification escaped Vergil’s lungs. Achingly slowly, your thumb traced the tip of his cock, coating his seed across the silken skin. His eyes darkened with an insatiable hunger, pushing your back against the cool silk of the carriage. It was then that your thighs shivered with an expectant welcome.

As his frame fit against yours, like a finishing piece of the puzzle, the sensation of his decadent skin propelled you to a realm of exhilaration. He pushed your folds to the sides, revelling in the display of your glazed over eyes and your slicked petals opening up only for him. Tentatively, he lavished your core with his length. The noble closed the gap between your hips, relishing in the sensation of your satin walls, whilst observing the blooming lethargy his body caused in your own. With each slow pump, the quiet groans that escaped Vergil’s lips poured out in unison with your own.

An abrupt thrust into your core caused an overbearing moan to escape your lungs, Vergil’s eyes widening in fears of alerting the oblivious driver. He placed his palm against your mouth to quieten your fragmented voice. The danger of being found out only quickened your arousal, your silken walls closing around Vergil’s cock. This caused his pupils to completely blow out, quickening the pace to chase his pleasure with yours.

Vergil’s racing heartbeat unified with yours, and the marks he left upon your skin with his longing bites, seemed to push you to your limits. Your thighs closed around the noble’s hips, welcoming a vigorous ecstasy to bloom within your frame. He followed suit, prolonging his euphoria with feverish thrusts into your core. Amidst each pump, you breathed in his scent, kissing the frame of his jaw with worshipping pecks after pushing his palm away from your mouth. You let your voice fill his ears, his own husky groans gracing your skin as a delectable orgasm spread within his body.

This maelstrom of pleasure pushed all of your worries aside, forgetting the predicament of betrayal and the discovery of the existence of demons. The view of the panting, undone hunter above you, his muscles rippling alongside the intoxicating feeling within his loins, was grandiose to say the least. You admired his sweat slicked skin, running your fingers across the Herculean build of his abdomen.

A victorious, as well as dangerous, smirk formed on his lips.

He appeared to enjoy your cherishing gaze.

Reaching down to knead the skin on your buttocks, he drew you in for another round, his craving for your silken walls not yet sated.

You expected this evening to be dull and monotonous. And yet, your heart beat faster than it had its entire existence from carnal pleasures. Was this your way of saying thanks? With both your bodies interlocking, causing saccharine friction between silk sheets?

It appears so. But you didn’t mind.

And neither did Vergil.

Here’s hoping Dante wouldn’t hear the events of this hedonistic night as it continued until the end of your long journey.

[irishmacguirefucker]

Meeting Tilly Jackson

A.N: (So originally this was going to be for my au but I realized that if I wanna write Tilly in my AU i need to properly understand her background. We don't have a lot of specific details in the game, so i wrote this. Essentially its how Dutch found Tilly and took her in. She’s 14 in this. I will probably have a part 2 soon. Its a little dialogue heavy)

(TW: Sexual Assault of a minor is mentioned but nothing happens, blood)

Wordcount:  3110

-

Tilly Jackson has a family. They may be a little odd, different than what everyone else might consider a family, but a family nonetheless. Dutch and Hosea her father figures, Susan Grimshaw a motherly presence. Sisters in Karen, Mary-Beth and the other women of the camp, brothers in Arthur and John and most of the other men. The titles don't matter so much as the feeling of safety and comfort and appreciation among them. She missed her late mother of course, but she hoped on some level her mother would be happy with how things turned out for the girl in the end. Being kidnapped at the age of 12 was nothing short of traumatizing, and for a long while, things only got worse. The Foreman gang was the opposite of a family. They were nothing to her but the people who stole her away from her mother claimed to own her. The ones who tried to take advantage of her. The night that Malcolm Foreman tried to make advances on her and she killed him was the night she would consider herself grown. 

She's not sure exactly how long she was alone, it must have been under a year. She went to find her mother only to hear of her death, and with nowhere else to go she just kept running. The further she made it the less likely that Anthony Foreman would find her and pay her back for what she did to his cousin. She knows that it was early spring when she left. The snow had barely been off the ground, she supposed that no longer being wrapped in a ratty cloak and scarf was the reason that gang member thought to make his move. 

Dutch found her just when it was beginning to get cold again. 

Despite considering herself grown, her body disagreed. The shoes she ran away in were already ill-fitted, and by that autumn they were practically falling apart. Her toes stuck out the front. She had done her best to steal clothing off people’s clotheslines, but they rarely fit.

Dutch caught her doing just that. He had been watching the property of some well off folks, planning on casing it with Arthur later that week. He watched as a girl no older than 14, snuck out from the tree line in a torn-up blouse and a too-long skirt.

She was clearly not experienced in stealing as she tripped over her skirts up the property, but she made it to the side of the house mostly successfully. She quickly tore down a long dress and an undershirt and quickly started back to the tree line. She stared wistfully at the property's large orchard and nearly turned her course towards it before hearing the owner of the house open his front door and stealing away into the forest. Even from a distance, Dutch knew what that hesitation meant. She was hungry.

Dutch was hardly one to let a promising little thief like her starve in the forest, so with a passing glance at the house he stood from his hiding spot up the hill and mounted the Count.

Tracking was never one of Dutch’s strongest abilities but she made it rather easy, with footprints in the mud, a scrap of fabric where her clothing caught a branch, etc. Eventually, he reached a spot where she seemed to trip and fall, and then there were a few drops of blood here and there as he followed. He knew he was getting closer, the blood wasn’t dry. He dismounted his horse and began leading him forward when suddenly she jumped out from behind a tree wielding a large rusted hunting knife. 

“Don’t come any closer! You can take your clothes back, here.” She kicked over the items he had just watched her steal. “Don’t tell the law, and I’ll disappear. I don’t have anything more to offer you.”

Dutch grinned, she was strong-willed. But he also observed that her cheeks were sunken in, and her skin was dull. She was visibly malnourished, and there was blood dripping from one of her small hands. He hoped it was a branch she cut herself on and not that dirty knife of hers.

He put his hands up in a friendly gesture.

“I’m not the man you robbed earlier, don’t you worry. I watched you steal that dress, you’re quite the little thief.” 

She was doing a damn good job of hiding her fear, but Dutch was experienced in seeing past such facades. She didn’t seem scared of the weapon she was holding, as the young and inexperienced often were when they wielded such an item. She just seemed scared of him. 

“Why did you follow me, it ain’t your things I stole. I have nothing to give you, so you best just leave me be.” She didn’t stutter, her high pitched voice remained unwavering and strong. Dutch tried his best to look unthreatening, something he didn’t find himself having to do often. 

“Well, I myself was planning on robbing that house myself later with a few of my friends, perhaps I just wanted to see if you had any advice for me as a seasoned visitor of that property.”

She didn’t believe him and didn’t lower her knife, but she didn’t run either. Good. “Now if I reach for something in my saddle bag here are you gonna come at me with that big old knife?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

Dutch smiled. “Well if you and I are gonna talk business I thought that maybe I could pay you for your time, little lady.”

She finally lowered the knife a little, seeming less afraid but very suspicious. “You wanna pay me for information on that house?”

“I do. Information is worth a lot to us outlaws, you should know that well Darlin’” He slowly turned to the horse. Even if she did attempt to stab him, she wouldn’t get to him before he could turn around, so he wasn’t worried. As he was digging through the saddlebag she spoke up behind him.

“Don’t call me Darlin.” 

He smiled at her bravado but kept looking through the bag. “Well, you’ve yet to give me something else to call you Miss. Ah! Here it is!” He turned back to her holding a small stack of cash and a wrapped parcel. 

“Yeah, well neither have you!” There’s that reminder that he’s talking to a child. They’re always so petulant. John had been just the same, though a little more rabid. “Well, I’m Dutch, Dutch Van der Linde.”

He studied her face for any sign of recognition, but there was none. Good, less reason for her to be afraid of him. She didn’t give her name just yet. 

“Are you with the Foreman brothers?” She asked boldly. “I won’t let you take me back, I’ll kill you before you get me back there.” That would explain her fear, she wasn’t just a thief. She was a runaway from another gang.

“Now I’ll tell you right now Miss, I’m not with Anthony Forman or his little gang. The only gang I’m with is the Van der Linde gang, and I promise me and mine won’t bring you any harm.”

“You...You lead a gang?” She was shaking, it was starting to get colder as the sun was setting. 

“I am, but we aren’t like those bastards you knew. We’re just good people, looking to live free.”

Then he did something bold, a gesture to help her feel safer in the presence of a gang leader. Hopefully, she would be a little more at ease. “Do you mind if I sit down Miss-” 

“Jackson. Tilly Jackson.”

He smiled. “Miss Jackson. Do you mind if I sit while we talk? Tracking you was quite a little adventure.” 

“Go ahead, I guess.” 

“Thank you, Tilly.” He sat down on a log just to the side, and she lowered her weapon fully but gripped it tight. “Now, go ahead and take this.” He took a couple of bills and tucked them into the string around the parcel. She stared at it suspiciously.

 “I didn’t tell you nothing yet and I ain’t stupid mister Van der Linde, why are you giving me this.” 

He smiled and leaned forward to place the parcel on the ground in front of him, between them. 

“As I said, you’re quite the thief and I think you could help me out. Doesn't hurt to butter up the informant. There's some food in the package, I thought you looked a little hungry.”

She seemed to stare at the parcel longingly and something clenched in Dutch’s cold heart. The poor girl must be starving.

 “I…I don’t have no info for you, Mister Van der Linde. I just needed the clothes.” She seemed disappointed to be saying it, but she didn't lie to him like he thought she might.

“Well...maybe you could just keep me company then Milady. Good company is hard to find among us outlaws, as I’m sure you know.”

In a flash, she was back two steps and her knife was raised once more.

“I ain’t that kind of girl. you can keep your fucking money and go pay a real whore for your damned “company’”

This was the opposite of the outcome he was looking for, and entirely at the fault of his own poor word choice. He should have known better, there are only a few things that can happen to a young girl in this country to put her on the run and make her fear good company. 

“Now listen here, Miss Jackson. I am not that kind of man, I wouldn’t take advantage of you like I’m sure the bastards in Foreman’s gang tried. It’s like I said it, my gang is just good men looking for freedom and money. You can leave right now if you want and I won’t stop you, or you can stay and eat some, and I promise I won’t even look at you funny.”

She stood frozen, knife gripped tight. She seemed to be weighing her options. Dutch had yet to pose a threat to her, his weapons remained holstered. He hadn’t even tried to come close to her. She steeled her nerves and spoke again. 

“Then...Give me one of your guns. If you really ain’t gonna try nothing then give me one of your pistols and if you try and do anything bad I’ll shoot you.”

In any other circumstance, he wouldn’t have even considered it. But this wasn’t some criminal who he was wringing for information. This was a terrified little girl who was too afraid of the man in front of her to even eat food when she was starving. He slowly reached for his left holster and pulled out the pistol. He made a big show of flipping it in his hand so that his finger stayed away from the trigger as not to scare her, and he placed it beside the parcel. Gently he pushed them both over with his foot and sat back on the log with his hands beside him. 

She stared at him, and quick as lightning she grabbed the items from the ground. She backed up to her spot and slowly sat on the ground. The pistol was too big for her hand, and her other hand was getting blood on the side of the wrapped meat. Slowly she unwrapped the piece of dried venison, not breaking eye contact with the man sitting before her. “Why are you being so kind to me, I ain’t never heard of a ‘Good’ outlaw, we’re all just killers and thieves.”

He took note of the word ‘we’ before killers and thieves. Perhaps there was a reason she was so steady holding that knife. “I suppose no truer words have been spoken Miss Tilly, but I was never the type to watch a young lady suffer…You know, I found my son Arthur when he was about your age. The boy was just starving in the streets, stealing what he could. Quite like you are now.”

She didn’t respond, just stared at him a moment longer before taking a large bite of the meat. He hadn’t seen someone eat so ravenously since he fed John for the first time.

It took a lot of talking to get her to let her guard down. She didn’t reveal much about herself, other than that her mother died and she wasn’t part of the foreman gang, she was just there. Though the tension in her shoulders slowly sapped away as she filled her stomach and let herself calm down. They spoke for a few hours and he tried his best not to treat her like a child, god knows they hate when you do that. He couldn’t help but notice that she just seemed so sad. Once all that fear subsided and she spoke more freely, it was clear that she was lost. She mentioned her mother’s death with deep sorrow, her eyes going glassy before she seemed to catch herself and move on. 

Eventually, her hand stopped bleeding, and he tried to catch a look at it as she gestured. The sun was nearly set and he would have to get back to camp before they went looking for him.

He told her as much and he watched that deep-set sadness seep back to her features. 

“Oh… well. It was nice to meet you Dutch.” She used his first name for the first time. He stood up and she did as well, wincing as she used her injured hand to push off the ground.

“You know... you could come back with me and let our doctor take a look at that hand. Well...she ain’t exactly a doctor, but she can fix it. We wouldn’t want that getting infected, it’s far easier to be an outlaw with both hands.”

She wanted to go with him, he could see it in her eyes. Good friends are hard to come by when you’re a child with no home. 

“And perhaps, you could stay awhile. Learn how to be a real outlaw instead of a dress thief.” She seemed offended at the comment, a funny little scowl crossing her features. She was thinking about the offer, and he hoped it sounded at least a little better than sleeping alone in the forest. 

“If I come to your camp….nobody's gonna try and touch me?”

 “Absolutely not my dear, if they try I’ll cut off their hand myself.” She seemed to giggle a little at the notion, a sound he would take pride in. She sobered up and asked; 

“And I can leave whenever I want? I ain’t gonna let anyone try and say they own me ever again.”

“If you come to camp, Tilly Jackson will remain a free woman, but you’ll have a home to come back to if that’s what you would like.”

He watched her hesitate a little longer. Some coyotes barked in the distance and she shivered.  “Maybe just for a little while. Just to try it.” 

“And you can leave whenever you want.” he reassured.

“And I can leave whenever I want.” She repeated it back like she was convincing herself. He turned his back to adjust the Count’s saddle and give him a sugar cube, and he heard small footsteps come closer to him.

“Um. Can I give him one? He’s real pretty.” Dutch turned and she was at his side, staring at the large animal. She was even smaller up close, and he could see that her bones stood up against her dark skin.

“You know, I think he would like that. Now here, take just one of these and put it in your hand flat. Don’t worry, he won’t bite you.” She went to take it from his hand before realizing her hands were full with the knife and Dutch’s gun. 

“Oh. Here you go, Mister Dutch.” She tried to hand him back the gun. Bravely he thought, to give up her best defense, but he didn’t take it.

“I’ll tell you what my lady, It’s gonna be a bit of a ride to get back to camp and I don’t want you feeling like you can’t hold your own. You hold on to that one just until we get back, alright? We can put your knife in the bag safe and sound.” She obliged, putting the hunting knife gently in the saddlebag and holding on to the pistol. Then Dutch gave her the sugar cube and she held it out to the horse gingerly. The Count had no such hesitation and stole the treat from her hand quickly, the softness of his nose near her fingers making her giggle.

“Now, I think we might just be ready to move! Can I help you up milady?” He said, with a ring clad hand extended like a butler. The gesture made her giggle more and Dutch was happy to see the sadness put aside for a little while. She took his hand in her much smaller one and let him lead her to the side of the saddle.

“Now, can I lift you or do you want to go stand on the log over there?” She could read the underlying notion. The hidden meaning of ‘Do you want me to touch you’, ‘is it okay if I lift you’, etc. He was being more considerate than anyone she had ever met. She took a deep breath and put a little trust in him.

“You can lift me if that’s okay.”

“It would be my honor milady.” He lifted her onto the horse’s rump and tried not to think about how light she was. How he could feel her bones through the layers of her shirt. Once she was settled, he climbed up himself. Before they got going he pulled out his canteen and an apple from the bag. 

“Here. Dinner will be done by the time we get to camp and there’s no reason you should go hungry back there, that just wouldn’t befit such a distinguished young lady.” She accepted the food, and he set the Count into a walk to get them out of the underbrush. Once they were on the path he pushed into a more brisk pace, but he wouldn’t risk trotting with her back there, the count’s trot could be rather rough and she’s so thin she would just be thrown off.

It would be a long ride back to camp at this pace, but it just gave him more time to get to know her and tell her about camp. 

[sirensmojo]

Black Bird - Tommy Shelby x Reader.

Summary: You’re a young writer for a famous magazine back in New-York, and forced to move out to Birmingham due to certain circumstances. A woman American writer, all alone in a city you know nothing about. Your presence soon enough gets noticed by none other than Thomas Shelby, who think about using your writing skills to his advantage.

Warnings: suspense & fluff

A/N: I wrote this for @a-mess-of-fandoms​ ‘s 1k challenge, hope you’ll enjoy it

Prompt: “If you’re a bird, I’m a bird”

Word count: 1,601

*Masterlist*

You’re walking path went from slow and light to quick and fierce, someone was following you, you knew it. As a woman who used to live alone in New-York, you had to work on your hearing to keep you safe from whatever danger the American streets were full of. Even more, than you used to work until late at night. Here, a pub, you will spend the rest of the night there if that’s what it takes for you to feel safer. Nothing in this city looked like what you used to see. You hoped you could get along well with the English, but wherever you would put a foot in, they would all either ogle or stare at you as if you weren’t even a human. You knew for sure some gangsters have heard of what you were writing on back in your hometown, that was why you were being followed and kept under surveillance. They wanted to make sure you would not do the same here. “Oh look, who’s there” Arthur mutters to his brother. Tommy lifted his eyes to the woman that just pushed the door. Something wasn’t right, your face was full of fear and he could hear your heart pounding in your chest as if it wanted to jump out of it. Yet, in your eyes, a beam light was shinning softly and peacefully. It looked like a truce in war. You were full of fear, your body was speaking it, while you remained calm in the mind. As he was reading your face, Tommy observed the crowd stopping from cheering, instead, they were all murmuring into each other’s ear. It reminded him of what people did whenever he entered a room. But instead of muttering things to others, they all stayed silent. He ordered Arthur to fetch a bottle of Irish whiskey and two glasses. The young woman was now sitting at a table, looking at the door as if you were waiting for someone to join you. When Tommy pulled the chair so he could sit, your whole body turned to him in one single movement. Your lips slightly parted and your eyes dawdled on the face of the man before they looked down to the glasses. Tommy coughed without giving you a single look. Once he was comfortable in his seat, he opened the bottle and filled one of the cups he pushed so it slid to the other side of the table, in front of Y/N. Then, and only then, he deigned to look at you, searching for a cig in his cigarette case. He held the case towards the brunette. “A cigarette Mrs. ?” He asked, brows high. You lifted your hands to your hair and grabbed a bobby pin in between your fingers. You led it to your lips and opened the tool wider so you could grab a cigarette with the edges of it. Once the cigarette was stuck in between the two pieces of metal, you lifted your eyes to Thomas that was intently looking at her movements the whole time. He cleared his throat and came to light the cigarette of the woman, but when he leaned towards you, he found out you already lighted her cig. “Gentlemen are dead in America” You lowly let out, as you slouched to stick your back to the wooden chair. “I’m no gentleman,” Tommy hassled to speak. Too fast. You now knew he wasn’t used to be turned down by a woman. 

Y/N sketched a smile and grabbed the whiskey bottle with one hand, as the other was still holding the bobby pin with the cig. You poured the liquor in the empty glass and dropped the bottle on the table in a thud. You glided the glass to Thomas and then looked at his face to gauge, once again, his reaction. He reluctantly grabbed the glass and took a sip on it. You did the same. “A woman cannot stay alone in a bar” He stated. “At the bar, no she cannot, Mr. Shelby,” You retorted. He chuckled, and draw upon his cigarette. “It’s a table here, eh?” He patted the table. “Not the bar,” He added. “Not the bar,” You repeated, as shaking your head to each side. “So, I’m going to help you a bit as I see you have difficulties to talk to me. Someone is following me. I’m not staying long in here. ‘Just waiting for the gangster to get tired. You know?” Eyes fluttering, you took some puffs on your cig and gracefully spitted the smoke to your side, locking your eyes to the door. Tommy ignored your sassy remark and exhaled loudly. “I know who you are. Y/N Ethel Frances, in your hometown you were a star. Kind of, every gangster was afraid of you. Not because you were part of a gang bigger than them, but because you could write. And write you did” While talking, the man waggled his cig in the air, pointing you with his fingers. Not to mention he wanted her attention, he tried to approach you as he did with every woman he knew. But he also was well aware you were nothing like the women in here. At first, he thought it was because you were American, but since he sat down with the brunette, he knew it was more than that. “I searched for Justice,” You said without looking at him. “And you reaped what? Being forced to move out because of your thirst for ‘Justice’”. He almost spitted the last word, and your gaze couldn’t stay away from him anymore. "Tell me what you want from me" You finally spoke. "I can take it," One of your brows lifted as you were waiting for Thomas to say something. "Your writing skill could benefit me". "What could benefit, me?" You asked. "Other than protection, money, and peace?" Tommy squinted. "You can offer me the two first ones, but peace? Please I'm too old for believing in such foolishness. You're a gangster after all". 

"You're speaking about gangster and justice, but what do you truly know about good or bad?” He cleared his throat. “And...” He marked a pause. “You're not so old," He glanced at you as you choked on her drink. 

“Didn’t you ever tried to do things right, Mr. Shelby?” “Call me, Thomas” “Why would I do that?” You hassled to answer. You were irritated. Not because of Thomas Shelby, but because the scars of your past life did not heal, yet. It was too soon to be able to talk about it with a stranger, even more to a gangster you would have torn down if you still was the same person as in America. 

Mrs. Frances got up, ready to leave, but the hold of Tommy’s huge hand prevented you from it. You turned to face him, diving your free hand into your purse. In a single clean and neat movement, you lifted her purse to Thomas’s head level and shot a man from a background table. Tommy immediately turned around to see the damage while Arthur that was initially behind the counter, pulled a gun to Y/N. The whole crowd started to run loudly out of the pub as screams filled the room. “Arthur! Put this gun away, eh?” Tommy motioned to his brother as he stood up. He then looked at you. “The fuck was that, Tommy?” Arthur enunciated loudly, his profound accent calling you out. “Just put that away, brother” Tommy tried to resonate with his brother, speaking with a soft voice, but in his tone, it was clearly heard he wasn’t unfazed either. 

The three soon were the only ones left in the Garrison. Tommy was walking forward you, knitting his brows, a new cigarette stuck in between his plump lips. You slid out the gun of your purse and held it to Thomas to make him known you didn’t want any more trouble. She wanted to cooperate. “He was the man following me. I told you I was leaving as soon as I knew he would get tired” You loudly say, you knew who the Shelbys were, in Birmingham. But your safety was pivotal for you. You were forced to shoot your shot. “Fucking Americans coming to my pub pretty like birds but with the mind of fucking rabid dog,” Muttered Arthur for himself. “I am a bird!” Y/N screamed to him, quite offended by his implicit. “If you’re a bird, I’m a bird,” Retorted Tommy with a solemn voice as he tore the gun off of your hands and unloaded it. Y/N giggled and tried to muffle it. Hearing you laughed for the first time made Tommy turn around to see that. It was just as warm and as charming as he has imagined. “Are you taking the job?” He asked, pulling the cig out of his lips with his thumb and index. “ ‘Course I am” You snapped back. Then, you glanced at the man and took the cig of his hand, dragging on it. The man poured a little bit more of whiskey in two glasses and sat down, motioning to Y/N, so you would do the same. Once you sat down, he took back his cig you were holding him, and a wide smile grew on his lips. “What’s that?” She frowned. “You’re a black bird, eh?” Tommy pointed the black bird embroidered on the fabrics of your dress with his fingers that were holding his cig. “Shut up, you fool” You retorted, quite amused but more charmed by how stunning he looked with this smile on his face.

[jafndaegur]

Noise of Rain | Chapter Five

These are Two Different Worlds, She Walks the Borderline—

Sesskag

a/n: we're coming to the close of the first half! Yay! I think this will probably have about five or so more chapters. Thanks for reading this guilty indulgence of mine~

...

Sesshomaru had taken Rin to a village about a day's worth of travel from the Burial Mounds. They had happened to be in the area, and while his ward went to shop for her supplies, he thought about their next step of travel. Particularly because a bothersome idea had crept into his mind ever since they arrived.

He wanted to go visit the miko in the mountains.

Since the last time he had checked-in on her, he'd noticed they were still struggling to put together their little crop fields. Humans, so fragile and needy that if they could not somehow pertain the correct soil for their crops, they would die. Hah.

So he'd provided lotus pods out of his magnanimous generosity… he was starting to sound too much like Jaken. 

Maybe he should leave the little imp behind for a while, refresh his mind and ears from the presence of the squawky toad.

Going to the miko's would generate that reprieve—

Before he indulged the thought any further, he squashed it with the sharp pinprick of his claws against his palm. 

Since her sudden change, something drew Sesshomaru to her. Curiosity is what he would like to name it, a strange girl with the power to suddenly obliterate the most dangerous hanyou this world had seen; obviously despite his anger that he wasn't the one to kill Naraku, her actions had caught his eye. Perhaps it was the sheer brutality of her powers, a miko easily and without pause tearing apart a living creature. While he enjoyed the sight with a great deal of satisfaction, that was uncharacteristic for the young miko. The daiyoukai huffed, if he didn't know any better, the resentful energy that the miko claimed to use was drastically changing her temperament.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. The girl should feel so lucky that he graced her with the constant barrage of thought. Under normal circumstances he would have never cared. Which ultimately brought him full circle again to the main question at hand.

Why did he care, now?

"Lord Sesshomaru!"

Rin's voice cut through the air as if she were standing right next to him. She knew better than to call him when in a town unless it was something important. He sped through the street, chasing the child's delicate scent like a marked path. Damn the humans staring at him, he didn't care. If someone had dared to cause a single scratch upon Rin's flesh. Well.

It'd been a long while since he'd razed a village to cinders.

Sesshomaru halted immediately though. 

Rin walked ahead with a skip, her arms full of gauze, salve, and food. She didn’t look for him however, she looked to the side—where a figure accompanied her. Not just any figure, the miko. 

He took in the sight of her, his eyes narrowing. Her hair was shaggy and unkempt. Her clothes too big and overly wrinkled, they hung off her body with an almost scandalous air to them and he wondered if she knew how to actually properly tie her yukata. It was her eyes though, that dawned the answer to his question.

Because a small smile worked its way on her face as she talked with Rin before eyeing her attention to him. And it was those blue wonders that had been so alive and vibrant before that were now dull and tired, hollowed by sleep circles and darkened bags.

The miko who'd had twice as much liveliness as Rin, the miko who stared everything down with joy and easy-going laughter, was now a husk of a human. And that bothered him.

Because there was no explanation for her change.

"Sesshomaru!" She waved with the hand holding her fife, and he had the sudden urge to grab it and chuck it into the heavens.

"Lord Sesshomaru! You came!" Rin pranced up to him with a proud grin. "Lady Kagome mentioned how nice it would be to see you."

"Rin." He narrowed his glance. "This one is not here for your beck and call."

"I know!" She chirped eagerly.

"I wasn't sure when the next time I could see you would be. It's already been quite some time." Kagome admitted with a sheepish look. "And Rin assured me you were nearby."

Sesshomaru hummed.

"Would you like something to eat?" She continued hurriedly, squeezing Rin's hand gently before pulling away from the child. "My treat."

He wondered if she should really be making such an offer. Still the youkai inclined his head.

His ward cheered and the miko seemed to relax. They wandered down a small path in the town that led to a patio restaurant. Fried fish and pork could be seen on the grills, and the smell of rice and soup filled the air. It was homely.

"Tea, sweet soup for the girl, and two spicy plates!" Kagome ordered before ushering them to a table at the corner. 

It was obvious the other diners were wary of the little group. The rumored Edo Matriarch and a daiyoukai certainly did not make for pleasant clientele. And yet Kagome seemed to brush aside the tense atmosphere for chatter. This was the first time in a long time that Sesshomaru had heard her so carefree and well...like her old self. He indulged her.

Their food was brought out quickly, a small bowl of soup and sweet smelling fruit was handed to Rin. Two bowls of rice topped with red-sauced beef were placed in front of him and the miko. She looked ecstatic.

"Things are slow going in the Burial Mounds but what can I say. That place is pretty inhospitable. It's taken a lot of energy to set up our living there, but it's coming along."

The demon lazily ran his fingers through his hair before giving his tea a delicate sip. "This one has noticed depleted demonic presences in this area. Would that be your doing, miko?"

She hid her giggle behind the back of her hand. "I have created a new tool to draw in and horde resentful energy. Without any malicious or evil just floating around willy-nilly, there's no place for lesser youkai to feed on that negative aura."

He felt a nerve twitch. Could she really do such feats without corruption? There were reasons why meager demons fed on prevalent evil atmospheres.

"Don’t look so concerned," Kagome's smile thinned and she went to absentmindedly twirl her fife. "I've got it under control."

He wondered.

She picked up her chopsticks, laughing when Rin eagerly thanked her for the soup, and started to eat the food with gusto. Sesshomaru felt a small twinge in his chest. Maybe he pondered ceaselessly over nothing. 

He would have thought that if it weren't for the sharp blast of yellow light that flashed from the folds of the miko's robes.

She hissed and withdrew one of her yellow talismans. The red writing glittered before the paper combusted. a curse flew past her lips and she stood immediately from the table.

"Sorry Sesshomaru, this is an emergency." She bolted then, haori fluttering as she fled from the patio. 

The daiyoukai pinched the bridge of his nose, gaze sliding to Rin. "Do you have any money left over?"

"Rin saved a few silver pieces," her little mouth twisted with concern. "Is everything okay my lord?"

He rose as well. "Pay for the meal, find Jaken. I will return later."

She nodded. "Be safe Lord Sesshomaru."

The wind seemed to bend around him as he sped after Kagome, ignoring her startled yelp as he wrapped his arm around her waist and sent them flying for the Burial Mounds. Her hair whipped around like tendrils of ink.

"Miroku is waiting outside of the cave at the center." She urged him. "You'll have to wait there if you want to stick around. There's going to be a massive lash of resentful energy and I cannot handle you transforming into your true form."

"Doubt in my self control is not a good look for you," he growled.

"Nonetheless," she muttered. "Two out of control powerhouses may be beyond my reach if that were to happen."

He wanted to ask what she meant. But the monk came into view and they touched down before he had the chance. Miroku rushed to them. Roaring could be heard from the cave along with the frantic shouting of the demon slayer.

Kagome shot a panicked look to the man before running inside the cave. Sesshomaru followed her without question or care to the monk's protest.

She had been right.

The amount of evil aura permeated the small space like a fog, and it weighed heavily on his baser instincts. He clutched Tenseiga, allowing the serene energy to calm his raging inner-self.

Kohaku fought his sister in a fit of rabid rage. His eyes completely rolled back and white, and hair strewn from his usual ponytail. Unlike pass times as Naraku's puppet, he had an unnatural and unrestrained power about him that thrummed like a barrier. Sesshomaru snarled.

Kagome's music filtered through the air and the dark energy flooded towards her, which she accepted with open meridians. Kohaku's fury diverted to her and he rushed her without mercy. Sesshomaru’s temper snapped and he'd enough. He lunged forward, claws intent on putting the whelp in its place.

The music stopped. "Don't hurt him Sesshomaru, he doesn't kno—"

That hesitation. One moment. And the mindless boy rushed past the dog demon and attack Kagome front on.

To her credit, she defended well. Her fife parried his first punch, body whipping around as she stoutly kicked him in the chest. He recovered quickly and barreled straight into her, head and shoulder pushing into her torso. Slamming her straight into the wall. The miko gasped out, blood flying from her mouth as she fell to the ground with a stagger. Sesshomaru yanked the boy back and sent him spiraling across the cave. He helped the miko up, eyes widening as the light in the cave flickered.

Her eyes bled red and her balance wobbled. The resentful energy seaped into her body in torrents and in that instant Sesshomaru realized that there was nothing he could do to stop the stream.

Kagome reached into her robe and drew forth a dark grey amulet in the shape of a phoenix. The energies spiraled into it. Her eyes flashed bright crimson, and the daiyoukai loathed to admit that his control waivered. But Kohaku fell to the ground, immobile and screaming. Kagome threw the amulet into the air and caught it with a chant. The dark energy stopped its movement and it became stagnant again. Sango ran to her brother's side, cradling him close while sobbing his name.

Kagome sagged.

"I thought," Sesshomaru grit his teeth. "You said everything was taken care of."

The miko looked at him with a bloodied and tired smile. "I've lied to you before, haven't I?"

"You will stop immediately." He growled. 

She hid the phoenix amulet back in her robes, and leaned against his side. He had the strongest urge to push her off and storm away. And yet even now, he found himself gravitating to her side.

[a-solitary-marshmallow]

Do No Harm Take No Shit Chapter 5 - Home(room) Coming

They discussed how best to break the news to everyone, while feeding each other ice cream. (call Adrien a sap, he didn’t care, this was the best day of his fucking life) It seemed a bit obtrusive to walk into class and announce, ‘Hello Marinette is my girlfriend now, any questions?’

On the other hand, Lila would probably take advantage of any ambiguity. Not to mention Adrien’s fans – they would throw a tantrum when he and Marinette went public.

In the end, the simple approach was taken. Adrien took a selfie of them sharing their couples’ cone, one in which Marinette’s face was scrunched up adorably as he dabbed strawberry ice cream on the tip of her nose. Her hair was out and tumbling in the breeze, slapping Adrien on the cheek while he laughed and held the camera up blindly. It was his favourite shot – he was almost loathe to share it with the world. A quick caption. Magical ice cream with my magical girlfriend – best day of my life. Adrien posted it on Monday morning while the Gorilla drove them to school.

“Aaaaand… done.” He leaned his head against Marinette’s shoulder and watched the comments start to filter in.

“That was fast.” Marinette said.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’ve got a few stalkers on here.”

“You don’t say.” She teased.

Paris flashed by, and then they had arrived. They walked into the school hand in hand – Marinette’s hand was an honour Adrien held with pride. In the hallway Mylène glanced at them, glanced away casually, and then her gaze snapped back, accompanied by unashamed jaw-dropping. She elbowed Ivan, who looked around and blinked at the two, before grinning excitedly. They started to whisper between themselves. Adrien stifled a laugh.

“So,” He murmured as they walked, “How many people know about your huge crush on me, exactly?”

Marinette groaned. “No.”

“Because if Alya and Nino were shipping us…”

“Please, there are too many names to remember. You are the one person who didn’t know.”

“Was everyone on team Marinette-Adrien?”

“Adrienette.”

“What?”

Marinette looked away, face blushing a lovely shade of red. “Nothing.”

Adrien hummed and swung their joined hands. After a moment, Marinette gathered her courage and spoke again.

“Most people were on the team. Except for Chloe, of course.”

“Chloe’s always the exception.” Adrien noted.

They stepped inside the class, and Rose began to squeal. Adrien jumped at the pitch of it – all eyes were on them suddenly. He smiled nervously at the wide-mouthed stares.

“Uh, hi?”

“Congratulations!” Rose squealed. She rushed down from her chair to hug Marinette and Adrien in turn, swiftly followed by a grinning Alya who slung an arm around her best friend’s shoulder.

“Mari! Why didn’t you say something earlier? Congrats you two!”

The class was loud with cheers and excited voices. Kim laughed from his seat, “Adrien, bro! We thought you were gonna be oblivious forever.”

“Well, what can I say?” Adrien shrugged, fingers still tangled with Marinette’s. “I saw the light.”

“Oh, this is wonderful!” Rose cried. She glanced back to the very stiff figure sitting at her desk, “Lila, I told you they would figure it out!”

“Yes, you did.” Lila’s voice dripped with saccharine contempt. Adrien could feel her glare drilling into him from across the classroom. He suppressed the animalistic urge to bristle and hiss, instead sending a sweet smile towards the teeth-gritting girl. ‘Look out. You have no idea who you’re messing with.’

“So, when did this happen?” Alya urged. Marinette shrugged.

“This weekend. We went out, and talked, and… well.” She slightly lifted their joined hands, and the girls cooed. Marinette’s cheeks were flushed with happiness – even Lila’s presence didn’t seem to impact her. Adrien wished she could be this happy all the time. Damn it if he wasn’t going to try and make it so. “I’m expecting some rabid fangirl lashback though.”

Alya crinkled her nose. “Ew. Don’t worry Mari, we’ve got your back.”

“I know. Thank you.”                

“Soooo,” Alya leaned in towards the new couple, “I was wondering, would you guys object to a slight seat change today? I really want to sit next to my boyfriend, and – gosh – that leaves you two together in the front row!”

“Real smooth, Alya.” Alix elbowed her with a snort. Marinette laughed.

“I’d like that. Adrien?”

“Definitely.” He said fervently.

“Oh, and do you guys want to have lunch at my house?” Marinette offered Nino and Alya. Nino sighed happily.

“Ah, Dupain-Cheng pastries. It’s been too long.”

“So that’s a yes.” Alya clarified.

 The classes went quickly, with Marinette by Adrien’s side. When she was waiting for the other students to finish up with their note taking, she would doodle in the corners of her sketchbook. Adrien picked up her pen to draw a little love heart on her cast. She returned the favour on the back of his hand. At lunch time he, Marinette, Alya and Nino met outside the classroom to walk to Marinette’s house. They were about to start off when a voice called out.

“Oh! Would you mind if I joined you?” Lila’s sickeningly sweet cry made Adrien stiffen. Marinette bit her lip, hard, as Alya and Nino turned to see the brunette hurrying over. Alya tipped her head with a confused smile.

“Of course, girl, but I thought you were busy? You said you were having lunch with… a special someone?” Alya pointed surreptitiously to her earrings. Lila sighed, an impressive show of disappointment.

“Oh, I was so looking forward to having lunch together, but she had to cancel! Her partner got into trouble and she had to go and bail him out again. Honestly, cats can be so troublesome can’t they?”

Oh. Cats, earrings. Was Lila really talking about Ladybug? Having lunch with Ladybug? Not only was that an incredibly stupid thing to brag about, given the whole being-targeted-by-a-supervillain thing, but Lila had picked the wrong people to boast to. Adrien was almost ready to give her a cataclysm to the face.

But he wasn’t suited up right now, and Alya had already invited Lila along with a smile and a reassurance that she was sure it wasn’t personal, Lila’s bestie was a very busy person after all. A quick glance at Marinette’s uninjured arm revealed the way her fists were clenched. Adrien threaded his fingers through hers and squeezed her hand. I know. It’s bullshit.

“Are you guys coming?” Nino called from up ahead. The others had already started off. Adrien pasted on his model smile.

“Yep! We’ll catch up to you in a sec.”

“Adrien.” Marinette whispered. He turned to her, allowed his smile to drop into a scowl that mirrored hers. “I don’t want Lila in my house.”

He shuddered. “Ugh, I know, I’ve already had that experience. She’s creepy.”

“No, you don’t understand.” She whispered desperately. “Lila hates me. What if she gets her hands on something important? What if she finds the miracle box? Or lies to my parents? Or spills paint on my ball gown commission? She knows I’m being commissioned by Clara Nightingale, she asked Alya about it the other day. I’ve been working on it for weeks, if she ruins it I’ll have to start again and buy all the fabrics with my own money and the bakery will go broke and Maman and Papa will have to sell and I’ll never get a job in fashion and I’ll live on the streets and get stabbed in a mugging and-”

Adrien squeezed her hand, and Marinette trailed off.

“It’ll be fine.” He promised. “We won’t go to your house.”

Marinette looked up at him with such desperation, that Adrien felt his heart break. Had he really made her feel like this? That no one was here for her? Adrien lifted her hand to kiss it before turning to call after the three students on the footpath ahead of them.

“Guys, hold up! Marinette forgot about a huge order her parents have at the bakery, if we go there we’ll just be in the way. There’s a cool café down the road we can go to instead.”

Lila’s eyes widened like a kicked puppy’s. “I-I don’t have any money with me, I gave it all to Prince’s Ali’s charity for disabled orphans.” She put on a pained smile. “It’s okay, though. I don’t need to get anything – my diabetes won’t be a huge problem if I skip a meal or two. It’s enough to just spend time with my favourite people.”

Alya ‘awww’ed and slung an arm around Lila’s shoulder. “Mari, are you sure we can’t just stop by your place? Your folks have plenty of food they don’t sell, right?”

Marinette squeaked. Adrien spoke over her smoothly. “Don’t worry, Lila! I’ll pay for your lunch. It’s the least I can do, after how good you are to those disabled orphans.”

He could feel Lila’s glare, and it was hilarious. She said sweetly, “Oh no, I couldn’t possibly take your money!”

“I’m literally rich. Besides, wouldn’t it be the same if you took Marinette’s food?” He smiled at the fuming girl. “Please, let me treat you. I’d do the same for any friend.”

He was really laying it on thick now, he could tell from Marinette’s stifled giggle. At Lila’s side, however, Alya hadn’t picked up on the passive aggressive note. She was beaming as she linked arms with Nino and Lila. “Great! Let’s go, before lunch time runs out.”

Marinette and Adrien followed behind. As they walked Marinette leaned in to murmur, “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Adrien whispered back. “Your knight in shining leather is always here to help.”

She snorted and bumped him. Adrien grinned.

“It’s a tail as old as time. Fur as long as I can remember, it’s always been the princess and her alley cat against the world.” Marinette groaned, but the sparkle in her eye betrayed her. “What’s wrong, Milady? Are you feline okay? You didn’t catch a cold or something, did you?”

“What secrets are you two whispering about?” Nino joked. Adrien sent him an innocent smile.

“I have no idea what you mean. I’m just complimenting my beautiful girlfriend.” He leaned in to Marinette to add, “Let me know if all the whiskering is bugging you.”

Marinette laughed out loud. “Please, Adrien. Please get some new material.”

“Why would I, when I have the purrfect puns already?” He lowered his voice again. “Seriously though, if I am annoying you or if Lila’s making you feel uncomfortable, just let me know.”

“I will, kitty.” Marinette smiled. Adrien was thrilled that he could make her smile like that. He would tell awful puns every day for the rest of his life if it would make Marinette smile.

They walked together, with a liar, to go get lunch.

  ­­­Two months later

“Are you sure about this?” Adrien asked for what seemed like the umpteenth time as Marinette shoved her bag into her locker. She still held her newly-uncasted arm carefully against her body, out of habit. “I can do it instead, it doesn’t have to be you.”

“Yes it does.” Marinette closed her locker firmly. “I have to do this. You just make sure to get it all, okay? You have an important part.”

“Of course, Milady.” Adrien wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her hair. Marinette hummed happily and buried her face in his jacket. And everything was wonderful for a short, blissful moment.

There was a faint zipping sound, and then Plagg stuck his head through the wall of the deserted locker room and barked, “She’s alone in the courtyard. Now’s the time, Pigtails.”

Adrien wished this moment would never end. Alas, he could not hold the love of his life forever. Marinette proved that when she lifted her head.

“Okay.” She pulled in a deep breath and smiled up at Adrien.

“You’ve got this.” He told her. She nodded.

“Yeah. Okay. Tikki, spots on.”

  When it was over Adrien rushed to meet Marinette in the garden behind the school, tucked away between trees and bundles of flowers. She had beaten him there and had already detransformed, Tikki sitting on a nearby branch and munching on a cookie. When Adrien arrived she looked up at him with tear-filled eyes and lifted her arms.

“Hey, hey.” Adrien ran into her embrace and hugged her tightly. She was shaking. “It’s okay. You did it. You were amazing Marinette, and now it’s all over.”

“I know.” Marinette mumbled again him. “I just can’t believe…”

“I know.” He held her firmly and Marinette returned the gesture, clutching at his back. “You’re done. You can relax now.”

Marinette made a muffled sound. Adrien stroked her hair.

“Do you wanna go home?”

She nodded, not lifting her face from his chest.

“Do you wanna be alone?”

She shook her head.

“Do you wanna cuddle and watch cartoons?”

Marinette nodded again.

“Do you wanna watch the Ladybug and Chat Noir movie and laugh at all the stuff that they got wrong?”

Another nod. Adrien kissed the top of her head.

“Then that can be arranged. And we’ll deal with tomorrow when it comes.”

“When it comes.” Marinette mumbled.

  Adrien walked to the front of the class the next morning just before school was due to start. Most of the students were already in their seats – including Marinette, who Adrien had insisted was due for a break. She had already done the heavy lifting of the plan, now Adrien could see it through. Besides, she didn’t need Lila targeting her even more for this. Speaking of Lila, Adrien could feel the girl’s suspicious glare drilling into his back as he spoke to Ms. Bustier.

“Excuse me miss, is it alright if I show the class something before the lesson starts? It’s urgent.”

She frowned from her desk. “Can it wait? We have a lot of important information to cover this lesson.”

“Ms. Bustier, this is very important information. I think everyone should see it as soon as possible – including you and the other teachers.”

She shook her head. “Mister Agreste, I really don’t see what could be so important that you must interrupt my lesson. Why don’t you go and sit down, and talk to the principal at lunch?”

“Because it concerns my classmates and-”

“All the more reason for it to be dealt with discreetly – we don’t need a spectacle.”

“You didn’t give Marinette that luxury.” Chloe called mildly from the front seat. Adrien turned to stare at her in disbelief. “You called her out in front of everyone during that whole cheating scandal. Why not give Adrien the same luxury? Or do I need to bring my daddy into this?” She pulled out her phone threateningly and Miss Bustier whitened.

“That will not be necessary, Chloe. I’m sure a… a few minutes is fine.”

“It won’t take long.” Adrien assured, sending Chloe a grateful look. She smiled smugly. Adrien quickly plugged in his USB and opened the document, taking a breath to raise his voice to the whole class.

“Thank you all for your time. At first I wasn’t sure if I should share this – but after doing a bit of research, I’ve found some worrying things that I think everyone here should know about.” Adrien could feel Lila’s glare searing through his forehead. He resisted the urge to smirk at her, instead schooling his expression into hesitance and worry. He had a part to play – the innocent bystander. After all, a malicious witness wasn’t very trustworthy. “I sent a copy to Mr. Damocles and the Ladyblog – Alya, you probably haven’t seen it yet – but I think it’s important that you all watch it before anyone else.”

Marinette met his eye, and nodded. Adrien smiled at her and pressed play.

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Seventy-Six

Words: 3.8k

Warning(s): Explicit language, explicit sexual situations, drug abuse, violence, domestic abuse

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I glance over as Emi starts on God, seeing her absentmindedly fumble with her cross as Mick listens intently, a small smile coming to my face. 

She's as enthusiastic about her beliefs as I am. It's a little more comforting having someone around that's on the same page as I am. 

That is until Nikki gets tired of hearing her go on and on about Christ. 

It's probably giving him flashbacks of conversations with Vanity. 

"Can you shut the fuck up?!" He yells back here to her, and she abruptly stops, looking at him. 

"Sixx, you're not even back here, just mind your own business." Mick boldly replies, too tired to fight about it. 

"What did you just say to me?" He cuts his eyes sharply. 

"He said mind your own business! It's not our fault your blood starts boiling and combusts into flames anytime someone mentions God! Shut up and deal with it and stop being a little bitch!" I state and he glares at me. 

A Jack Daniel's bottle is hurtling my way in no time, and I duck, causing it to hit Mick and Emi, soaking them in Jack. 

"Fuck you!" Nikki yells at me. "And you know what?! If God is so real why doesn't he just strike us out of the sky right fucking now?!" 

This sends Emi into a frenzy, grabbing her crucifix, praying, while Tommy and Vince join in on further terrorizing her, dropping their pants, along with Nikki, while they all shout on about how God needs to suck their dicks. 

I'd be offended if I knew God was. He's more than likely just looking down at them, shaking his head, wondering why he decided to create them in the first place when all they're doing is wasting their lives on booze, used pussy, and any drugs they can get their hands on. 

All the sudden, Tommy disappears into the pilots cabin, and within seconds we're doing a barrel roll, making Emi start screaming and crying. 

Once we get level, I'm taking a few deep breaths before coming to my feet. 

"Vivian." Fred scolds me, knowing what's coming, but I ignore him, marching to Nikki, Vince and Tommy, punching them both in the back of the head as hard as I can before slapping Vince with the same energy, Fred and Doc getting in the way before they can come back at me. 

"Fucking bitch!" Nikki barks at me. 

"Heard that one too many times, it's starting to bore me!" I bite back as Doc pulls me to the back of the plane. 

"See how boring my fingers around your neck are gonna be when I get ahold of you again!" He yells after me, Fred shoving him into a seat. 

"Maybe you'll kill me this time and do us both a favor!" I reply. 

"We have a gun at home just put it in your mouth and fire a-fucking-way!" 

"I would if I didn't know it'd make you so freaking happy, you sick junkie!" 

"God forbid you do anything to make me happy!"

"I sacrificed my dancing and my schooling to make you happy!" I throw at him.

"You threw out your chance to go to school and do what you were passionate about for me when I never even wanted you to do that! I wanted you to go to school, I wanted you to keep dancing but you didn't because you were too much of a pussy to leave 'cause you thought I'd break up with you!" 

"And we see where that fucking got me, don't me?! Married to a sick man who has no qualms about screwing his wife's best friend for over a year in the house he bought for her, in the bed they share!" 

"If that sick man didn't marry such a selfish, evil, farm fresh cunt from hell he wouldn't have felt the need to step out on her!" 

"You stepped out on me for drug love!" 

"I stepped out because I was bored with you and she fucked good!" He's venomously snapping at me. 

I want to say, "trust me, I know the feeling!" but decide not to. 

"Just be sure to mention that to our lawyers when you get back from Japan because I'm sick and tired of being married to you!" I shout. 

"Fuck you!" He screams. 

"Fuck both of you!" Doc snaps at us, heaving heavy breaths. "Now, I've had it, dammit!" He screams. 

We're all silent for a moment, before I'm glaring at Nikki. 

"See what you did, asshole?!" I accuse him. 

"What I did?!" He yells back, brows furrowing.

"Yes, what you did, since the only thing you're good at is stressing people out!" I shout at him. 

"I stress people out?! I stress people out?!" He starts laughing humorlessly. "I turned to fucking smack to escape your stress inducing bullshit, you delusional, rabid cunt!" He barks at me as Fred tugs me to the bathroom before I can get the last word in, locking me in until it's time to land. 

By the time we get to Fort Lauderdale, we've both calmed down enough to tolerate each once again, which is good considering paparazzi is on us like flees to a dog. 

"Vivian, Nikki!" Press shouts as cameras flash, Nikki reluctantly grasping at my hand as Fred clears a path in the people to car. 

When they see Vince, Tommy, Mick and Tansy behind us, they go after them next, giving me and Nikki time to duck into the car. 

"Geez." I sigh out, fixing my hair as Nikki moves across from me the second the door shuts. 

He leans his head back, cursing under his breath, raking a hand down his face. 

"You okay?" I ask him, genuinely, and he sneers, his eyes still closed as he catches his breath. 

"No, Vivian, no, I'm not okay." He huffs out with a sharp scoff, and I rub my lips together. 

"It's hard on me, too, you know. You aren't by yourse--"

"--Bab--Vivian, just shh." He catches himself before he says, "baby," and my heart tenses up in my chest. 

"Would you rather me scream at you and start an argument?" I ask him and he sits up, looking at me with smeared, running eyeliner, circles under his eyes, and ghostly skin. 

"I'd rather you just keep your mouth shut." He states, fumbling with his boot, pulling some tar, a spoon and a syringe out. 

"Oh, you aren't serious..." I say to him, raising a brow. 

"Me,Tansy, Izzy, Andy, Michael...don't act like you haven't seen someone shoot up before, Viv. If it makes you pussy out just close your eyes. I'll be done in a few seconds." He mumbles, about to start heating it in the spoon. 

I do just that, until I decide I'm not sitting around and let him kill himself anymore. 

I go to snatch the syringe and lump of smack away from him before he can stop me, opening the sunroof and throwing it out, going for his syringe next. 

"Stop!" He barks at me, guarding it, the both of us ending up on the floor of the limousine. 

"Nikki!" I scream, fighting with him to get it, but a sharp pain is soon shooting through my pointer finger as the needle stabs through the underside of my finger and out the top. 

It was by accident, being that he wasn't even holding the needle. 

"Motherfucker!" I scream to myself, Nikki's face paling further at the sight, as he lays underneath me while my tears are rolling down my cheeks as stinging pain spread through the nerves of my fingers, followed by the buzzing of the micro-amount of heroin on the tip of the needle that pierced my skin. 

I hiss as I pull it out and aim the needle at the car's carpet, getting rid of the shot, holding my bleeding finger as I sit up, Nikki still looking sick as I get off of him. 

"That shit wasn't cheap." He tells me, pulling himself up.

I don't pay him any attention, my finger starting to throb. 

He stares at me while I have my little pity party, before he takes a long sigh and grabs at my hurt finger, making me sniffle. 

"It's not like it went through the bone, Viv." He says dismissively, although he still holds to my finger as if trying to make it better. 

"Just shut up." I snatch away from him, frustrated.

"You shut up." He replies in the same harsh tone. 

"You fuck off." I kick my heel into his knee and he grabs my ankle and tugs at me, causing me to slide into the limo floor again. "Nikki!" I kick again with my other foot, this time, missing his crotch by mere centimeters. 

He slides to the other side of the seating to get away from me. 

When we stop at the next light, I'm reaching for the door handle and opening it up, causing him to pounce on me, and slam the door as I open it, yelling, "goddamnit, Sixx!" pinning me under him to keep me from opening it again. 

We both take heavy breaths, looking at each other...he smells repulsive, but I've missed the presence of his close proximity. 

The door opens suddenly, Doc and Fred looking down at us. 

Apparently we didn't stop at a red light, but our destination.

We both look up at them like guilty puppies, piled on each other, Fred, in particular, eyeing me like a hawk. 

"We're here." Doc informs us as we pull ourselves out of the car, and I brush off as Doc and Nikki walk ahead of me and Fred. 

"Don't say a word." I tell Fred.

"Wasn't going to." He assures me.

"It wasn't what it looked like." I say next. 

"Never said it was." He replies.

"Yeah, but, I know what it looked like, and--"

"--Viv, I'm not saying a word about it." He reassures me as we walk into the venue to see Steven, Slash, and Izzy sitting on the stage. 

Stevie sees me and makes a beeline for me, making a point to hug me. 

Steven was like Vince, but a hell of a lot more genuine and wholesome. He just loved love, affection, flirting, and women--especially women.

"Duff's really upset over what happened, Viv." He tells me in my ear. 

"I'll talk to him." I reply with a slight nod. 

"I don't know if just talking it out is gonna help much of anything, babe." He says lowly and I let out a breath. 

"I'll talk to him." I repeat, brushing off his warning. 

When I get on the bus, Duff's got his shirt off, shuffling through his bag, glancing at me. 

"Hey." I say to him.

"Hey." He mumbles back, grabbing another tshirt to put on. 

"Steven said you were still pretty upset about last night." I tell him, stepping a little closer. 

"Not with you...just...the situation." He explains in a low, frustrated tone. 

"Well, do you wanna talk about it?" I offer. 

He looks at me, letting out a breath, licking his lips.

"You've already said you guys are getting divorced, so, it's not like it really matters." He shrugs. "Just having a little trouble pretending like he didn't damn near kill you, but..." he trails off, seeing the look on me face before saying, "I'll get over it, Viv, alright? Don't worry about me jumping on him again or anything like that." 

"I'm not worried about that." I assure him, grasping at his hand, tugging him closer to me in the aisle, a small smile on his lips as his hand runs through my hair, our eyes locked. 

"I love you." He tells me, my arms wrapping around his waist. 

"I love you, too." I grin, and he presses his lips to mine, sweetly, before I'm pulling away. 

"Alright, your show starts in an hour and a half." I inform him. 

"Okay." He says dismissively, kissing me again. 

"Duff, we gotta go." I giggle, his lips kissing at my cheek, then my neck. 

"We will." He says against my skin, chuckling. 

"If you're late, Axl's gonna kill us both." I remind him, kissing him again. 

As always, one thing led to another, and then…

"Duff," I whimper out, my bare back wet with sweat from the humidity in the Florida air, my thighs spread as he pushes his fingers in and out of me on the table of the empty tour bus--my dress discarded to the floor, leaving me in only my heels since I wasn't wear a bra or panties, specifically prepared for this moment. 

The wet sounds of his fingers toying with my soaked pussy reverberate off the walls of the bus, only making the ache in me more hungry. 

His tongue swirls around my nipple, and he bites it teasingly, making arch into him, his fingers plunging deeply into me, purposely brushing that spot. 

I runny fingers through his hair as he goes to my other nipple, doing the same to it, making me sigh out in pleasure. 

He kisses my lips before grinning, taking a step back to look between my legs as if admiring me, his bare torso tensing with each breath in, his hand raking over his blonde hair. 

I pull my lip into my mouth, placing my heel on his chest, gently pushing him to sit down across the aisle, and I look at him smugly as he watches me, his hand palming at his crotch. 

I turn over to my hands and knees on the table, arching my ass up and my face down before reaching my hand underneath me to rub at my clit, watching over my shoulder as he takes heavy breaths. 

Two of my fingers tease at my entrance, and I moan out as they slide into me, my walls tightening around my digits as pleasure prickles up my spine. 

He keeps his eyes glued to me as I move my other hand to my clit, my toes curling as I eventually bring myself to orgasm, but I don't have time to recover before Duff's hands are grabbing my hips and his tongue is lapping at my center, sucking at my clit from behind. 

I gasp, my hand reaching back to hold his face to me, my body moving in rhythm with his tongue. 

Moans and whimpers come from me, and he pulls away for a moment, only to pull me into the aisle and push at my back until I've got my hands on the floor, completely bent over as he gets a better angle at eating me out. 

I nearly scream at the sudden accessibility he's got, on his knees, lips and tongue going to work. 

"I'm gonna come." I gasp out and he presses one more kiss to my clit before two of his fingers thrust into my cunt, making my eyes roll back at their demanding pace, curling to hit against my g-spot. 

He stands up, never pulling his hand away as the other hand holds at my hip, leaving to run over my ass cheek for a moment as I begin to spasm around his fingers, my legs shaking as cum runs down them. 

He pulls his fingers from me and I'm standing and turning to face him, sucking them into my mouth and he curses under his breath as I keep them in my mouth, my hand unbuckling his belt and pulling his hard cock out of his jeans, wanting him down my throat at the sight of precum beading at his tip. 

I keep my control, letting his fingers from my mouth as I'm licking my lips and rubbing my thighs together. 

I sit on the edge of the table, my legs spread, my hand between my legs as he steps to me, grabbing his prick and rubbing it against my sensitive folds. 

"Fuck, Vivian." He says softly, smile on his lips as if he still can't believe he's sleeping with me. 

I just grin at him and pull him down to kiss me. 

I cry out when he takes the time to push into me, hitting as deep as he can with a few more inches to spare. 

"Make me take all of it." I tell him after he thrusts a few times. 

He watches my face as he slowly inches it further and further into me, his tip hitting my cervix and pressing against it, making it give way little by little until he's buried in me to the hilt and I feel like he's in my stomach, tears in my eyes from the painful pleasure. 

"This is how deep I want you to go when you come." I tell him, sweat beading between my breasts and he watches it, leaning forward to lick it off my skin. 

"You want me to come in you?" He asks me, knowing the answer but wanting to hear me say it. 

"Yes." I nod, gasping. 

"Why?" He asks and I look down, his shaft disappearing into me and coming out glistening with my juices. 

"Because it feels so good." I reply and he grabs my jaw, his tongue meeting mine in a sloppy, passionate kiss as he picks up his pace. 

I grab his hand and guide it to my bruised throat. 

He almost pulls his hand away but stops when I look at him. 

"You're not gonna--fuck--hurt me." I assure him, my hungry pussy being fed the way its needed, making my eyes roll back and my lids close as my head tilts back.

He slowly grasps my throat, harder and harder, and the sensation sends sharp pleasure straight to my clit. 

My fingers go to play with it, but his fingers move mine from his way, staying in fast rhythm with his thrusts.

"I'm--" I can't finish what I'm saying before he moans out with me tightening around him, further wetting him with my juices as I finish

Within a couple more minutes he's breathing out, his dick twitching before he fits all of his length into my cunt and my body's being christened with his hot cum. 

Once I cool down and clean myself up, I'm going back to him. 

I pull my shirt back over my head as his hand runs up and down my back, his lips catching on the space between my shoulder blades before the fabric of my shirt can cover me, making me laugh. 

"Duff, we--" 

"Dude, we eat on that table!" We hear Stevie pipe, and turn to see him and Izzy looking at us in horror, by the door, where we're sitting on the table. 

"So did Duff, apparently." Izzy says with a crooked smile, cigarette smoke cascading past his lips as he finds it amusing. 

"Sorry." I say to them, quickly getting dressed as Duff gets up to pull his pants on. 

"We didn't see anything, don't worry. We just waited for the screaming to subside." Izzy lets out. "Axl's wondering where you guys are."

"Of course he is." I roll my eyes. 

"Not for that reason. I think he wants to talk to you about Tansy." He adds. 

"Tansy? What about her?" 

"What do you think?" 

"She's not going to rehab until she wants to." I immediately know what he's referring to. "And being that she's not enthusiastic about living, I doubt she cares whether she dies or not." 

"Well, Axl's all worried and googly eyed and gross." Izzy huffs out. 

"Plus, she's our friend, too, and we've all been trying to talk to her about getting some help." Steven tells me, next.

I get my shoes on and step past them to the door. 

"See ya in a few." Duff tells me. 

"See ya in a few." I reply, smiling at him, before going to find Axl.

The irony of anybody from Guns being worried for Tansy due to her drug addiction was exactly that: ironic. 

But I don't blame Axl for not wanting to see the girl he was miserably in love with (well, obsessed and unhealthily infatuated with) on the brink of her own final destruction. I guess because I'd been there with Nikki, myself, and knew how scary it was--even if big, bad, mean machine Axl refused to admit he was scared, I knew he was.

"Have you seen Axl?" I ask Doc as I pass him by, and he furrows his brows. 

"Might check their dressing room, I think." He replies and I nod. 

"Oh, and I'm sorry for mine and Nikki's fight earlier." I say before he can walk off. 

"Don't worry about it, Vivian." He nods a little as I offer a small smile and head to the guys' dressing room. 

The ginger isn't in there and I groan, heading to Mötley's dressing room to check in there, coming face to face with Sparkie. 

"What the hell are you doing in here?" I ask him, cutting my eyes. 

"Waiting for Nikki to get back from the bathroom...what about you?" He replies smugly. 

"Wondering why you're back when Nikki and Axl have both made it clear they don't want to see you again." I state. 

"The bitchy redhead isn't getting in the way of my business." He says, referring to dealing to Nikki. 

"You're so sick." I hiss out in disgust, turning to leave. 

"I'm kinda wanting to add a few drops of fuel to the fire, ya know...tell him about you and Duff." He starts, and I tense up, slowly looking at him. "End the last show of this leg of the tour with a bang." 

"He won't believe you." I try to say it confidently, but my voice cracks just slightly. 

"I don't think you're giving him enough credit, Viv. Sure he's high a lot of the time, but it's not hard to believe when almost all of your time is spent with Duff in some form or fashion--not to mention you lied about your friendship with him from the start, so…" he points out. 

"What gets you off about seeing people in pain? If you're not helping them destroy themselves, you're making things a lot worse for their life." I grit out. 

"I'm not making things worse for his life by telling him about your inability to keep your legs closed. You did--well, still are doing--the crime, I'm just giving him a heads up about it because he's my friend, and my friend needs to know what kind of snake his wife really is." He remarks and I grind my teeth, turning to go again, but he grabs my wrist. 

"Unless she wants to persuade me to keep her secret?" He suggests, his cruddy eyes traveling up my body like they always do. "Last chance, Viv." He adds. "If he finds out, it'll completely shatter him. You don't want that on your hands, do you?" He keeps on, stepping closer to me, his arm sliding around my waist slowly as I stand still, frozen, as my heart pounds in my chest. "It'll just take a few minutes, and then you can go on your merry way, and I won't say a word." He grins, the tip of his nose touching mine, his chapped lips grazing mine as the door opens, revealing Nikki. 

[otpnessmess]

Big Brother Jasonette please?

Hi! Sorry it took me some time to answer but I hope you like this! I assumed you meant Jasonette in a platonic way, if you didn’t I’m sorry because that’s what I went with. - Lis

-

Marinette was bouncing slightly on her seat, waiting for the class to finally let out. She had tried to be discreet but judging by Chloé’s constant glances, she wasn’t succeeding at all. 

“What’s with you, ma chéri? Got a toad under your shirt?” The blonde finally caved in and asked near the end of the lesson. 

“Jason is visiting for the weekend and said he would pick me up after class. I haven’t seen him in person for months and I miss him so much!” She whispered back to her girlfriend with a gigantic grin on her face. 

Jason Todd and Marinette Dupain-Cheng were siblings in all but blood. They met when the young girl had been accompanying her parents on a trip to Gotham, and made good friends while their parents spoke about the party her family was chosen to prepare the catering for. The two teenagers had spent the rest of the week joined at the hip, wandering the streets of the city almost every day since Jason wanted to show Mari everything he loved about his city. Since at the time Jay was 18 while Marinette was only 13, he proclaimed himself her new big brother, something she told him she had wanted all her life. 

Unfortunately, the Dupain-Chengs had to fly back to Paris after the event was done, but that didn’t mean the newly formed friendship had to vanish. Through the years they kept close contact using video calls and messages every day, even managing to see each other in person every two or three months when Marinette flew to Gotham or Jason to Paris (courtesy of Bruce’s jet).

It was safe to say they were as close as you could get with someone you weren’t dating, so much so that he was the very first person the girl revealed her Ladybug identity to. 

She was about to get crushed by the pressure of keeping the secret on her own while having to deal with Lila and her former friends, as well as having to perform in class and finishing commissions. It had been a close call, but when Jason saw her pale and sunken face during a video call he refused to let this go on any longer. 10 hours later they were cuddling on her roof while eating cookies and milk as she vented about everything that had been going on in her life. 

The more she talked, the more he wanted to go teach a lesson to those kids that had made his Pixie-Pop feel like she wasn’t good enough. If he ever got his hands on them… But he wouldn’t. Not unless Marinette expressly asked for his help. 

She hadn’t meant to reveal her identity, it had simply slipped out. In hindsight, mentioning Chat Noir hadn’t been her most brilliant idea, as once she had started to rant about his manners towards her civilian self, it had been impossible to hold off from spilling everything he had done to make Ladybug uncomfortable too. 

Jay had looked surprised, but instead of whatever reaction Marinette had expected, he got pretty excited about it.

“Of course it was you, sweetheart, I should’ve seen it before!" 

He had then insisted on helping her train together with his family when she visited Gotham (she had known of their secret identities for a couple of years already). She got faster, stronger, and better at fighting within a few months, and soon Red Hood and Ladybug had taken to patrolling together whenever he was in the city. 

She couldn’t have wished for a better brother, which is why as soon as the bell rang she sprinted out of the class as quickly as she could. 

Jason was leaning against his bike right next to the doors as promised and picked her up effortlessly when he saw her flung herself at him with a squeal. 

"Jay!”

“Pixie-Pop!” He squeezed the living daylights out of her before putting her down and ruffling her hair with a giant smile on his face. “Glad to see you faring so well, pumpkin.”

She would’ve answered the same had it not been for Lila’s voice drilling its way to her ears. The liar was doing her usual number of bragging about whichever big name. Unfortunately for her, she had chosen the wrong big name that day. 

Jason didn’t understand why Marinette was frowning at the green-eyed girl, that is until she and her clique were close enough for him to clearly hear sausage hair say she was a close friend of the Wayne family and that she was getting married to the youngest son. 

“What kind of fucking bullshit-” He glanced at Marinette in confusion and anger. “Is this the girl who has been taking all of your friends away? The liar?”

Mari quickly tried to make his anger go away by holding onto his arm, lest he got akumatized because of Lila. 

“Jay, keep your cool, don’t let her be the reason you get akumatized, please. We can deal with her in another way.” She knew her brother had a myriad of weapons on him at all times, and wouldn’t put it past him to try and show the Italian a quick lesson. 

The way his eyes softened as he looked at her pleading face relieved her. Catastrophe avoided. 

Right? 

“Oh god, Marinette I can’t believe this! Isn’t he a bit too old for you? What kind of favors did you have to do to get someone like him?” She hadn’t seen them approaching the entrance and almost the whole class, with her former best friend and the liar leading the pack, were standing near them with judging expressions on their faces. The venom in Lila’s voice was ignored by everyone except the two siblings and Chloé (who was just now getting out of the class).

The bluenette was about to start panicking. Lila had not just said that. She knew Jason wouldn’t let it go and if her brother went to jail for that stupid girl, Mari would never forgive herself. So she tried to drag him away while looking at her girlfriend for backup. “Let it be Jay, please. Please.”

With a swift movement, he stood in front of her and looked at the liar with such hatred in his eyes many of the students around Lila scattered, afraid of his wrath. “I take it you’re Ms. Lila Rossi correct?”

Lila hadn’t seemed to notice what his expression meant, or maybe she wanted to pretend nothing was going on, and she smiled cockily at him. “Why yes, I am.” The smirk Jason sent her way made her rethink her posture for a millisecond.

“I see. Well, let me introduce myself then. I’m Jason Todd. It’s a pleasure to finally know who has been the one spreading those deceiving rumors about my family, I assure you Wayne Enterprises’ lawyers will be happy to give you a call or two. Maybe expect to receive one from the lawyers of other people you’ve been lying about too.”

Not waiting her so-called best friend to be humiliated like that, Alya intervened in a clear display of having no sense of self-preservation. Even as Lila had gone pale at the mention of Jason’s name. “You can’t do that! You’re lying! It’s probably just because you’re dating Marinette, and she can’t just accept not being the center of attention. Whatever she told you it’s not true! You’re pathetic!”

That last bit was thrown to Marinette’s face, who had found comfort in Chloé’s arms for the last minute or two. She immediately shrunk into herself, making Jason want to rip the class to shreds.

“Marinette is my little sister, and she would never harm someone else on purpose. If you think that’s the case then you probably don’t know her at all. As for Ms. Rossi, as far as I know, her lies can be easily disproven with a quick Google search, not that you have ever tried to find proof of her claims.” How an akuma hadn’t come looking for him already was a mystery. On the outside, he had on a cold, stern act, but Mari knew the look in his eyes, he was far from calm. “This girl you’re trying to defend is hurting people with her dumb tattle-tales. She’s hurting my family. And I don’t take kindly to those who threaten my family.”

Not wanting to spend another extra second in the presence of some stupid students who had been bullying his sister, he got on his bike with Marinette in tow (the latter having already kissed her blonde girlfriend goodbye) and left for the bakery.

The weekend went by way too fast for both Marinette and Jason’s liking, but they made sure to not waste it thinking about unpleasant sausage girls, and instead spent it going to their favorite spots in the city. By Sunday afternoon, they were tired but happy, as they munched on some pastries while Marinette showed Jay her newest designs.  He left the next morning, only after making Marinette promise she would tell him if she was ever having trouble with her class again.

Monday mornings were usually the worst at school because Bustier tended to leave them to work on their own more than usual, so she had to sit through an extra session of hearing Lila’s stories. Though at least the last few months she had had Chloé by her side Today, however, Mari arrived at the class to see everyone surrounding the Italian girl and demanding answers. Quickly scurrying into her seat at the back of the class, she looked at her girlfriend inquisitively.

“They just got the news of how many people were suing Lila after they found out about the lies thanks to your brother, and they’re mad about her lying to them. As if they weren’t the ones who chose to believe her, and ignore you. The pests are probably going to try and apologize to you as soon as they notice you’re here, ma Minette.” The blue-haired girl could feel more than hear the growl Chloé let out when she hugged her close as if trying to protect her from the imminent begs of forgiveness from their classmates.

“Don’t worry Chlo, they’re not getting forgiveness from me any time soon. I just don’t think I’m ready for such a thing yet…” Even as she said that she felt nervous about having to confront the class. They were sure to turn on her as they did every time she refused them something.

Before she could go down a rabid hole of anxiety, though, she got a message.

‘Have a nice day today at school Pixie-Pop. You got this! P.S. You know I’m only a phone call away if you want me to kick their asses’

That and the ladybug emoji at the end of it made her laugh. Jason always tried to act dorky whenever he knew she felt down, and it usually helped her feel better. With newfound confidence, she leaned onto Chloé’s shoulder with a smile, enjoying whatever minutes of peace she had left before having to face the incoming storm.

-

Hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for sending in the ask

Tag list

@vixen-uchiha @18-fandoms-unite-08

[amethystpath-writes]

A Gentle Blade Part 15

Part 14 here

Oh ho ho. I've been waiting for this moment in this story for a looong time.

TWs: mentions of torture, self blame (if I miss any plz let me know!)

Tag List: @tears-and-lilies

******

Leera was made to walk back to her cell, still escorted, of course. Her lips had been cut, not her legs, so there was no reason she couldn't walk except for the fact she had been lying down for quite some time. Her legs were filled with lead, and they cramped, but if she was being forced to walk- like she was- she would manage.

The stairs were the most difficult thing. It was hard for Leera to know if she lifted her foot enough until she was catching herself on unsteady arms several steps above her.

Rennera paid no mind to her. That was typical of the queen. If she wasn't torturing Leera, she wanted nothing to do with her. At least she didn't ask Leera to apologize to the dead king again. The assassin tried not to think what would have happened if she'd been forced to apologize again. Her lips hurt enough that she'd hardly have been able to speak, but if they hadn't been, what would have happened when she apologized incorrectly?

It doesn't matter, Leera thought, because it didn't happen. She was happy to still have a voice in her mind. That was one thing the queen couldn't take. Leera couldn't talk to Sir Guard, but she could talk to herself. It was entertainment enough, right? Sir Guard only ever confused her anyways.

Yes, yes this was a good topic to think about. Sir Guard and the mystery he shrouded himself in. He was a specimen of curiosity to Leera. Most people she figured out easily; Sir Guard was not one of them. Although maybe she did know him. He admitted he was a prince. Leera just wouldn't accept that. It simply didn't make much sense. She thought about him, all of him that she knew.

First, Leera started, then was interrupted as she tripped on the last stair leading to the door at the top. Leera nearly fell into the queen, but Sir Guard thankfully jerked her back before it could happen. He wouldn't have done so with the extra guard behind him, but thankfully that guard remained downstairs to clean up. Leera tried to think he meant he was cleaning the dagger he used to split her lips dozens of times.

Leera continued walking, as well as thinking. First, he found me in the woods. She recalled that day too vaguely; it made her upset that she could remember it so barely. Either way, what she did remember was what he had said to her after he captured her. 'You may scream when I take you back to Her Majesty'. It was such a horrible thing to say, and Leera wondered how she ever came to enjoy his presence, to feel safe in it. That was one thing she couldn't deny now at least. The assassin felt warmer when he was near.

She thought harder. He'd collared her, walked her like a rabid mutt. Leera had asked him if he realized who he was working for. She remembered him calling her scum, but she also remembered how difficult of a time he had saying it. But then moments later-

Leera's body quaked as her foot fell down onto a step. She shook her head. How had they already passed the throne room without her realizing? It didn't matter. Nothing mattered when she was the queen's prisoner. What significance was there walking in a throne room when it only meant she was walking from her cell to a torture chamber or vice versa? It didn't.

But, the assassin soon realized, it does matter when the queen no longer walks in front of me. Leera walked herself now. She was alone, besides Sir Guard behind her, but he was invisible behind her back. To walk again, with no one in front of her, it was nice. It was freeing, even if it wasn't total freedom.

"Are you opening the door on your own or will you allow me to be a gentleman?"

Leera almost laughed. She wasn't sure how allowing a man to open a cell door was considered being a gentleman, but still she stepped aside and allowed Sir Guard to open the door.

He seemed to know what she was thinking, for he commented, "If it makes you feel better, I'm stuck in here with you. No key. We both leave at the queen's demand." Something seemed to strike him for a moment. He didn't move, but Leera could just barely spot his features tightening into what she only imagined was confusion. Moments later, Sir Guard shook his head and stepped aside with a soft apology.

The assassin stepped in, automatically walking to her typical spot of rest, the center of the right wall. She sat beside her various unused restraints, ranging from ropes and chains to collars and metal prongs stained with blood. Leera knew she could sit anywhere, or even move the items of restriction, but they reminded her of her strength. At one point, she cried at each of those things being used. She didn't now. Some might have considered her broken, and the assassin would have agreed, but broken didn't mean weak. So, she sat by her restraints.

It was difficult to pick her thoughts up where they left off before she came into the second staircase. She had been thinking of Sir Guard, but what about him at what point in time? Where had she left off in her memories? Leera closed her eyes until she could recall the last moment of her investigation.

Scream for the queen.

Collar.

Scum.

And then he admitted he hated the queen. That's where she stopped thinking.

Leera picked the thoughts back up and continued. She wanted nothing more than to figure out who Sir Guard was.

Why did he return Leera to the queen if he hated her?

Because he wanted to live, he'd told her. But what did that mean? How did returning the assassin mean life? Sir Guard was stuck here, with only the name 'Sir Guard' and 'my future king' used to identify him. He wasn't a guard, Leera knew that much. He seemed to have no interest in the job when he took it, and even now...

How did he ever come to care for Leera? Why had he gone from growling voice and shoving her to the ground to catching her before she fell? He was acting. He was pretending to be someone in order to ensure both of their safeties, but...Leera shook her head.

"You're thinking," Sir Guard said.

The assassin shook her head for a second time and rolled her eyes as if to say 'No kidding'. Then she held a finger up, a motion telling him to give her a few more moments for herself.

Who was Sir Guard? Why was he hiding his identity?

One small piece of her screamed, He's a prince! You already know it! But what was his business being here? He certainly wasn't the prince of this land, if he was one at all.

So the question was, assuming he told the truth, why was the prince of another land here after the death of the king? Was he hoping the queen would be poorer off and he could just swoop in and take control? Didn't he have a throne and crown at home to claim? And if he were a prince, why had he taken Leera into the queen? He hated Rennera; that much was obvious, but that just made it more confusing as to why he would have claimed to be a bounty hunter for Her Majesty. Why claim to do favours for someone you hated?

To gain entry, Leera concluded. Maybe he's not a prince, but a spy instead. A spy for a prince. Sir Guard's prince must want to take over the queen's kingdom. After the king was assassinated and word spread, the next obstacle became how to rid the queen. With the assassin caught, the prince couldn't find someone to hire to kill.

Now again more questions rose. Now that Sir Guard found Leera, what was the next step in his plan? He brought Leera back to gain entry, but how did that help anything? Unless Leera was in good condition, she couldn't do anything, couldn't help.

Maybe the spy's goal was to grow closer to the queen. He could learn her weaknesses and then it wouldn't matter whether Leera was okay or not. His kingdom could strike without an assassin.

What would his plan have been if he hadn't stumbled upon Leera in the woods?

There were too many gaps in the assassin's theory, but it was the most solid one she'd come up with so far. Sir Guard wasn't a bounty hunter, a guard, or a prince like he claimed; he was a spy.

Leera slapped the stone floor once, then twice to get Sir Guard's attention. He looked to her without pause. The assassin supposed he did have good posture, looked like he could be a guard, a general, even a king. But that was part of being a spy, wasn't it? Being able to impersonate anyone in order to gain information?

She pointed at him, them pointed at her own eye. Are you a spy? she was asking, but he didn't understand. She repeated the action. He still didn't comprehend.

The assassin sighed. If the floor were dirt, she could draw the question out with a finger. Instead, she opened her mouth despite having swollen lips. "Arr- oo-"

Sir Guard held up a hand. "Don't hurt yourself."

I wouldn't have to if you understood simple hand signs.

Leera moved on. She shrugged, then acted as if she were putting a crown on. After that, she took two fingers and walked them across the floor. Her eyes met Sir Guard's.

His face went nearly blank. He blinked and gave a small, frustrated laugh. "This would be so much easier if you could...well, talk." Leera hummed before he continued. "I'm just going to take a wild guess and answer with," he paused, trying to formulate a response. "The queen is preparing for her meeting. She said they will be here within two days. The majority of those involved began the trek here after the queen left. They probably want this to be over as quickly as possible."

The assassin gave a quizzical look. Pinched brows, squinted eyes, would-have-been pursed lips.

He elaborated. "The queen didn't put up a great show at her last meeting. She requested an audience here so she could show them the assassin who killed her husband."

You're telling me she called for a meeting in an enemy kingdom to tell them she would be taking over. Then she got flustered and told them that she had something to show them. And they agreed?

"It's best not to question a scary rumour," Sir Guard remarked, though he obviously didn't hear the assassin's question. He read her, as he always did. That's what spies do. "If someone told the kings and generals she liked to sprinkle sugar on her steak, they might call it odd and move on. But if someone tells them a woman hanged her already dead husband, they remain weary, and rightfully so."

But if she acted poorly in front of them, doesn't that discredit the rumours enough?

"She stumbled over her words, but she didn't fret in throwing a knife at an eastern general who spoke over her. Dinner ended shortly after and she left with no words but when she expected to see them again."

So she redeemed herself and now intends to over-redeem herself. She's trying to create a security blanket.

Sir Guard slid down the wall until he sat. He took a deep breath before saying, "I made mistake. Several. But I really messed up this time."

Again, Leera could only look confusedly at him. She hoped he was deciding to be less secretive.

He laughed again. He did that when he was aggravated. "She gave me a room earlier, before she...with you..."

Leera's eyes widened.

"No. No, nothing happened. Didn't even try to kiss me. Thankfully." The last word was gruff. "It wasn't a reward like she said it would be. I'm realizing this now." He sighed, put his head in his hands. "It was a test."

"Wha-mm." She groaned in anger. As much as her lips hurt, Leera still managed to forget it hurt badly enough that she couldn't talk. She hated it. Speaking to herself wasn't enough when Sir Guard was in the room.

"We're both prisoners now," he explained. "I never thought about the door," Sir Guard threw his head in the direction of the metal bars. "being locked while I was in it until I told you I had no key. Not that I ever had one before, but-" He shook his head and gave a big exhale. "I never had a choice before. My one and only job was to guard you. Now, though, now she's given me the option to be her king. I was supposed to take that opportunity. I have no choice now." His attention snapped to the assassin. "Not that I would ever marry her, but if I would have at least pretended that was my intention. Gods, I screwed everything up. And I'd tell Dogars, but he didn't even know-"

"Uh- ince?" The prince? Leera recognized the name as the the prince from Sir Guard's story. The prince, Dogars, was the one who hired a- wait. Dogars hired an assassin to kill an enemy king. Had Leera met with a prince? If she did, she didn't know they were a prince. Or maybe she did. The assassin made it a point to forget everyone she did business with, whether that meant the person who hired her or the person she was hired to kill.

Sir Guard's head dropped. "Still haven't accepted the fact yet, have you?"

The assassin shook her head.

"I hired you, Leera. I'm the prince in the story who hired a killer."

She swallowed. Breaths rushed in and out of from between her cracked lips as her head shook back and forth. It was the first time he ever used her name.

"You've recognized my guilt and I know you've wondered at why I feel guilty. It's you," he said.

It was becoming harder and harder to deny him. He was staring right at her, eyes unwaivering. She held a hand out, gesturing for him to come closer.

He obeyed, scooting so close that their knees almost touched. Now his gaze bounced. Sir Guard looked at the assassin's hands, which hovered in the air, waiting to be held, and then he looked to her eyes. When she nodded at her hands, he reached out as well and grabbed them lightly. Her hands were cold, but not freezing. They both felt hot, then.

Leera watched his eyes. Tell me again. Tell me everything.

"I-" Sir Guard didn't even know what to say. He tried to tell her he was a prince before. Not when she first guessed it because it was too soon, but when he felt comfortable enough he told her very blatantly what and who he was. She didn't believe it. Why would that change now? He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. "I'm here now, as I am, to make up for what I did. I- was foolish and I didn't think ahead. I know what living as a royal is like. I should have known how the queen would respond, how she would have to, but I didn't foresee it. I was so anxious to do what my people thought I should do that I simply didn't think. I-"

His head snapped in the direction of the door. He thought he heard something, like a door opening, or even boots on a set of steps. It must have been his nerves.

He continued. "I hired you to kill the king because I was afraid to do it myself. The thought of killing a man- good or bad- terrified me. So, when I heard there was an assassin roaming the lands, I had my best friend- emissary- track your movements. Furthermore, when I heard you would be stopping in the very kingdom I was in charge of taking down, I went there myself. I only knew you by your hood. You only knew me by the rags I wore. The people with me were trusted friends, disguised all the same to be villagers as I was."

Leera's hands were progressively heating, palms sweating, fingers feeling as swollen as her lips. Sir Guard's hands felt cooler now. The assassin couldn't tell if it was she who grew hotter, or he who grew colder. Perhaps it was both. Perhaps as she was genuinely listening, he was finally unloading all that he held back.

Both were experiencing something they needed since they had been imprisoned. Sir Guard was feeling relief; he was finally releasing all that he held in. Leera was feeling certainty; she was finally believing her guard, and he wasn't what she thought. He was no spy. He was the Prince himself.

"I'm sorry," he said after a long silence. "You being here is my fault. I should have been stronger than I am. I should have been able to do it myself. I should have been the one to have a scar on my face from a nail. Should have been the one collared and chained and humiliated. Should have been the one strapped down on a table and had my lips carved to say the queen's name. I'm the one who should have been her property-"

The assassin didn't know it was Rennera's name which was carved. The queen must have changed her mind mid torture session.

"-That's why I'm here. I deserve to be here. And you know what?" His hands were heating up again and there was a sniffle in his voice. Leera didn't dare look in his eyes. She wouldn't be able to stand the tears there. "I'm glad I screwed up this last time. Maybe staying down here with you will mean she'll turn her attention on me. She'll hurt me instead of you. It's what I deserve."

Leera felt her nose and eyes stinging. If her lips weren't so pained, she'd have sucked them into her mouth to prevent the spillage coming from the upper half of her face. A part of her always knew he was a prince, from the moment he told the story she asked for.

'Are you the prince from that story you told?' she'd asked him one day.

And he had replied 'Of course not. My name isn't Dogars.'

Dogars was his friend. He only used the name to cover up his own. It was there all along, even before he straight out admitted he was the prince. And she knew it. She just refused to accept it. Gods, Leera couldn't believe it. Hired by a prince to kill a king, now being praised by one as well.

She wanted so desperately to tell him, "This isn't your fault. This is my job. Please, please don't blame yourself for my life choice." She squeezed his hands, waited for him to look at her so they could take in one another's tears. He didn't deserve this. The fact that he said he did was what made him so innocent. Thank goodness she couldn't speak because for the first time, she thought, "I love you, Sir Guard. I've never been so glad to be in this cell because it means I have was given the opportunity to love you."

******

Part 16 here

[the-headbop-wraith]

X

3 _ 39 The Land Time Forgot

  A rebounding thunder of cries tumbled across the vibrant blue sky, terror gushing forth, metal grinding and mashing and rattling. The clank and rasp howled forth, and then a yellow blur winked out as it hurtled through a subterranean burrow. Further wailing echoed within, until the terror-stricken voices extinguished, and silence curdled forth.

 “Oh my god, did you see that!” A blue blur dashed to the side of a rail and peered over into the hollowed pit, she leaned far over with her leg slung up high behind her. “That had to be sixty mph!” She’s joined at the shoulder by a snazzy dressed figure, his grin dazzling.

 “Vii, indoor voice. Save it for the rides, or you’ll go hoarse again.”

 She snickered. “Neigh!”

 Further from their station, another wail of cries exploded, hooting as a small train cart blazed across the tight woven and spiraling track. As far as the eye could see, the colorful flashes and whirls of other attractions, laughter and screaming – though a few of utter horror wound through the wild rush of adrenaline junkies. The theme park was a popular tourist destination, long established and flocked by trees and clean-cut brush winding among the many pathways dominating the sprawling acreage.

 It was slow season, a good time to take a vacation for young people who could nail down a select date that would allow minimal competition with typical season swarm. This was one of the rare occasions that the Mystery Skulls crew could set aside some time for a much needed vacation, in-between assignments and on the road. They totally did not travel a hundred miles out of the way for this.

 “Where d’we even start?” Vivi bounced at the rail. “Do we work our way up, or just hit up the biggest, scariest, heart attack?”

 Mystery borked. Maybe… work your way up. He gave his whole body a shake, his collar twittering with the vigorous motion.

 “C’mon guys” Arthur beseeched, hands in his pockets. “I think we’re gunna get evicted from the place before we even get through a line. This is not gonna work.”

 Vivi looked at him innocently. “What’s not going to work?”

 He pointed to the Mystery hound. “Stick a vest on Misty. It won’t work, they’ll figure it out. And he hates it.” On that note, Mystery gave himself another rigorous shake. “Knock that off, or they’ll catch on you’re not a real service dog.”

 Vivi went over to Mystery and wrapped her arms around his chest, lifting the hound by his front. “But we can’t exile our most devoted case worker.” She swayed Mystery. “This is as much our vacation, as it is his.”

 Mystery gave Arthur a snarky grin.

 “Lighten up, Art.” Lewis set his hands on his hips. “The park and staff don’t want to deal with regular puppers. Mystery’s better behaved than some teens.”

 Ruff!

 “It’s not an insult. Work with me.”

 Arthur groaned and ran his hands over his head, pushing his spikey hair back. “Mind you, if we get caught this’ll be the fifth theme park we’re blacklisted from!”

 Lewis winced. “The ghosts in the spook house were so lifelike!”

 Vivi defended with, “You can’t tell me that magician wasn’t actually turning his audience volunteers into rabid hyenas!”

 Mystery barked! That whole buffet was going to waste!

 “You guys are nuts!” Arthur slapped his arms over his face and groaned. “I give us a half hour. We’re gunna beat our best record.”

 Lewis threw an arm over Arthur’s shoulders. “You worry too much, Artie. Relax for once.” He swept his other arm out, across the expanse of the theme park set before them. The looping coasters, the spinning gyros, lush fields of trees for the aesthetic. “This is our day to scream, not because crazy freaks in masks are chasing us. But because we’re having fun. You remember fun, right?”

 Vivi plucked Mystery up in her arms. “And I read the rules and regulations in-depth. No one’s allowed to ask invasive questions about our lovable teammate. All we have to do, is remind them he’s very important.” She did pouty eyes. “You wouldn’t say no to this face.”

 Mystery did pouty puppy eyes and made his lip quiver.

 Rolling his eyes, Arthur checked Lewis – who did eyebrow waggles – then returned his eyes to Mystery, who leaned forward and gave his nose a lick. “I get ‘Told you so’ rights, and unlimited churros, IF we get caught.”

 Vivi laughed and let Mystery drop out of her arms. “In the meantime! There are rides to check out and an assortment of foods to sample.” She bolted off, chasing Mystery.

 Lewis gave chase. “Vii! Honey! Don’t eat before the really big rides!”

 Arthur was not far behind. “Guys! Wait. Mystery! You can’t run, they’ll get wise to our illegal activities!”

 For the benefit of Arthur, the gang started off on some of the less thrilling rides. They tried the high-speed coasters, with tight turns and mild dips. In between the crazy coasters, they tried the wicked spinners or the high-flying swings that soared above the parks landscape. Most of the ride selection was based on Vivi spying the next tallest spire, and the group navigating towards that through the winding paths, and then getting distracted by rides or shows along the way.

 Though Mystery couldn’t go on some of the rides, there were a few picked out specifically by the group that he could participate on. Those being low speed with minimum restraints, the bumper cars – which he enjoyed excessively. There was a log ride, that allowed him to sit aboard and ride alongside Arthur. Or the leisure car ride, where Vivi let him drive his car; due to the karts being on magnet tracks, and not a lot he could sabotage.

 None of the ride attendants questioned the dog presence. The most they got was a ‘well, he seems large enough for this ride’. He was so well behaved, but it helped that the park was having a relatively quiet day. The lines for some of the main attractions were nonexistent, and even in the mellow themed districts of the park, there were not a lot of kids.

 At around eleven, the crew stopped in one of the Ages Gone district for some eats. The aroma of sauces and simmer meats enticed Mystery, and when it came to food Vivi tended to trust the canine. Each member of the Mystery Skulls elected a preferred food item from the one stop cafeteria they were drawn too, and then took trays off for a secluded space under a tree. It put them on the edge of a cool plot of land, which divided their location from a nearby coaster track Vivi was adamant about riding right after.

 “We’re not doing that,” Lewis denied. “We’re going on the low-key rides, have a little down time.”

 “Aye-aye,” Arthur chimed. He dug into his ultra-saucy, meat burrito, getting sauce all over his hands. “No rush anyway. I can’t believe how much free time we got, without every other family not coddling Mystery boy here.”

 Woof. Mystery dipped his nose into the Styrofoam box, nosing at some toasted apples.

 The group finished their meal, Vivi somewhat in thought and a little quiet. Lewis gathered up the trash and dumped it in one of the trash reciprocals. Then, they went on their way scoping out the rides on this side of the park. They strolled on one of the paths near the river rapids, where a circular boat transported riders across frothing waters and through tunnels with theme appropriate critters.

 “I know this is off season,” Vivi mentioned, while watching an empty boat sweep through, “but I’ve seen more people in line at the dentist for root canal specials.”

 Woof. Mystery gave a large yawn. He wasn’t fond of big, congested crowds bumping and brushing against his doggy shoulders. All that static was a nightmare.

 “Maybe that’s the latest attraction,” Arthur muttered. He was still sipping the liquified ice of his beverage from lunch. “Scariest attraction yet! The dental experience! Check it out, people are already fleeing in terror.”

 The group stalled, Arthur choked on his flat seltzer coffee. “Wait—”

 On the other side of a high fence, a roller coaster train thundered by, momentarily drowning out the factual and alarmed shrill of park goers vaulting through a small garden plot. People launched over fences, darting across pathways, someone landed in a small decorative pool but kept going, drenched.

 Lewis sided up by Arthur, pointing. “Um, is that supposed to be happening?” Upon a better examination of the action, the initiator of the stampede became apparent.

 A dinosaur! A legitimate dinosaur was rampaging across one of the attraction landscapes; one decorated with lush plants and tall fronds, elephant ears, and palms. Ride goers burst through the greenery, as the feathered and toothed monster lunged or ducked through the flora. The species of prehistoric nuisance was game for debate, but one factor was certain – it was a biped, with a sharp snout, dozens of teeth, and claws. It roamed to the edge of the boarder set around the acreage and gave a theatrical roar.

 Arthur frowned. “Oh crumb, it’s just one of those costume meet-and-greets. Ignore them.” He swung away and began walking. “I hate those, I always get heckled.”

 Mystery tilted his head, whining.

 “Those are screams of legit horror, not glee,” Vivi pronounced. She ran back and snagged Arthur by the shoulder. “You should know screams of horror! You’re a connoisseur.”

 Arthur stumbled backwards. “It’s a skill I’m not proud of!”

 Lewis had his head tilt. “Is that a dinosaur?”

 “It’s a guy in a suit!” Arthur spat.

 The dinosaur clambered over the fence and flopped to the pavement. With some effort, it righted itself and crawled across the pavement. It used the shorter front arms to lift up on its large, muscular back legs and trotted forward. It hissed, turning its snout and many teeth toward one of the tourist that had not scampered out of range. With a snarl, the prehistoric nightmare lunged at the man.

 Despite the clear panic and full retreat, the person now under attack made an attempt at snapping off a picture. He wound up dumping the camera in his newfound occupation of retreat, and darted across the pavement a rock formation that served as a makeshift barrier. He made it over the top but tumbled, and crashed into a bush on the other side.

 The dinosaur didn’t fool around with scaling the boulders, it charged at a section of fence built up beside the rocks. It bit through the decorative wood barrier, the glittering claws splintered chunks of bark. The fence collapsed, and the dinosaur prowled in among the shrubs.

 “Whoa!” Lewis yelped. He snatched Arthur’s drink and abandoned his group. “Hold up now!”

 Vivi tried to snatch his shirt back. “Lew! Wait! Art, Mystery! C’mon!” She charged after him. Mystery yapped and wasted no time.

 With a sigh, Arthur ambled after them. “No, Lew. Don’t. Ahh. Scary. Come back. Danger-Danger. Eek.”

 In seconds flat Lewis reached the destroyed barrier and chucked the drink at the dinosaurs shoulder. “Hey! Pick on someone your own size!”

 The dinosaur gave a low, cackling growl and spun away.

 “I said hey! You!” Lewis braced and leapt. “I said, pick on someone—” Before he could clear the brush tangled around the dinosaur, it lashed out with its tail and smacked the would-be hero clear off his feet. He hit a portion of fence that remained standing and flopped to his side, groaning. “Ow….”

 “Arf-Arf!” Mystery dove in and snagged his collar, with every intent to haul the large mortal back. His fur bristled as the dinosaur shoved its snout through the brush and growled through its many sharp teeth.

 Still a distance away from the drama, Arthur stalled in his tracks. “Wait! Holy shit! That’s a lawsuit right there!” And nearby, Vivi shrieked:

 “Arthur!”

 On her way to assist Lewis, she happened by a cafeteria and caught sight of a fire extinguisher attached to a panel on the side of the building – along with a fire hose, and one of the emergency phones. The phone box was locked tight. How practical. She rolled her eyes and delivered a high kick to the fire extinguisher box. The glass shattered, and the door popped open.

 “That… was unlocked. Wasn’t it?” She sighed and took the red cylinder and unclipped the nozzle. “Good to know.”

 Meanwhile, Lewis kicked back from the snapping jaws. The dinosaur clamped down on the standing fence and the whole pole cracked. Lewis pushed Mystery back, while he scooted away from the thrashing menace.

 Right as the beast lunged, Vivi dove in with the fire extinguisher. “Eat therma frost, extinct reject!” She unleashed a torrent of white froth, making sure to cover the eyes and get as much as she could into the mouth. When she tried to move closer, Lewis snagged her leg and the back of her shirt.

 The dinosaur shrieked and sprang backwards. It shook its body and appeared to be trembling. One final roar, directed the groups way, signified its withdrawal. Lewis heaved Vivi backwards, before the tail could slice out and knock her down. The dinosaur didn’t hang around, and stormed across the pavement back to the attraction it may have emerged from. The Land that Time Forgot ride.

 It was only when Vivi allowed the mist to clear that the three could see, the creature had retreated. Arthur came over and barreled through the mystification of what occurred.

 “For that, we should get dibs on every ride in this darn park!” Arthur stooped and patted Lewis on the shoulder. “C’mon. Ya gotta check the guy.” Lewis grumbled confirmation, and let Arthur with Vivi haul him to his feet.

 Vivi inquired, “How you feel?”

 “Mostly shookin’ and stunned.” Lewis flexed his arms and stretched. “It takes more than that to rattle me.”

 Together, the group ventured into the thicket to check the guy that fell. For the most part he was well, a little scratched up from the brush but that broke his fall and saved him a broken bone or two. Not long following, the security force showed up like secret service agents to assess the damage. Secret service agents dressed in dark blue and sweating through their uniform. They gave out checks to everyone who signed a release form, in the presence of one of the parks attorneys, alleging they would not press charges or speak about events, or anything. The affidavit was vague on details.

 “So,” Lewis rolled out, pointing to one of the guys clearly younger than him and getting minimal wage. “This kind of thing happens often?”

 “Um… no?”

 The park attorney, a short lady, pushed her glassed up on her face. Then, pushed the park security aside, and stood up to Lewis. “They’re not authorized to say.”

 Vivi pulled Lewis back and got before the attorney, and pushed her own glasses up. “Y’know what I smell. I smell corporate cover ups. You guys do a lot of that?”

 The attorney glared at Vivi. “I’m not allowed to say.” The two had a stare off, the electricity sparked between them threatening to ignite.

 Lewis got his hands around Vivi’s arms and hauled her back. Park security took ahold of the attorney and ‘escorted’ her aside. “Vamos arándana, don’t antagonize the staff.” Under his breath, “We might yet not get blacklisted from this park.”

 Vivi tried to look back. “I don’t like her.”

 Nearby and with Mystery, Arthur sat on a rock. “Honest, what attorney type are you chill with? I say, don’t sign the slip. Munnies or not.”

 Mystery reached a rear leg up and scratched at the strap of his vest. Woof.

 “Are we going to get back to our vacation?” Arthur harped. “Didn’t really sign up for dino-wrangling.”

 Attorney lady pried out of securities hands, and approached the group. “You three won’t be able to continue your stay with Fanatical Hypes ™, unless you sign the release forms.”

 Lewis looked down at Vivi. “Could it hurt anything? Signing away our souls for corporate profit?”

 Vivi stroked her chin. “Depends.”

 Arthur jumped off the rock. “Oh boy, I know that look. Vii, please. Vacation.” He pressed his hands together. “I’ll sign—”

 “We’ll sign,” Vivi blurted. She went over to the attorney. “On one condition.”

 The attorney sighed. “I am not legally allowed to speak of anything, regarding… this.” She gestured to the damage, and the work crews arriving in golf carts and supplies to begin clearing up the area. Another work crew was off beside the attraction entrance, clipping a chain across the yawning portal.

 Vivi shook her head. “I don’t want to hear what YOU have to say. I want to speak to your manager.”

 Arthur dropped his face into his hands. “Lew, don’t let her do this. Speak some sense into her.”

 Lewis rubbed the back of his head and turned to Arthur. “I think we’re gunna go ahead and do this.”

 With a wet sob, Arthur hauled up Mystery and buried his face in his neck. “We’re getting blacklisted for sure, buddy.

 Mystery sighed and rolled his eyes. He patted Arthur on the head. There-there.

 __

 It wasn’t so easy convincing Ms. Attorney lady that her employer should have a chat with the Mystery Skulls. What this all came down to, was they wouldn’t sign the release forms, and they were suspicious of the dinosaur creature which attacked visitors. Arthur had to pull up their work credentials on his phone, and show off some of the cases dealing with masked people getting into trouble and all that shenanigans for a profit. While Vivi handled pressuring the attorney with her shrewd businesses conduct, and disinterest with discussing further details with attorney lady until she spoke with top management. Lewis backed up his team, being kind of tall and scary when irritated, but mediating the two parties when his team got a little overbearing. The bottom line of their negotiations came down to:

 “And even if they won’t speak with us,” Vivi concluded, “We’ll sign your… sinister contract anyway.”

 Attorney lady blinked. “It’s just a release form.”

 “It’s a legally binding contract! Ya can’t fool me!”

 Now, the group sat in the large and luxurious office. A replica model of the Fanatical Hypes ™, theme park, on the table beside the large desk. A door off to the right led to another room, where the attorney lady vanished into. The trio sat in chairs, and Mystery lay curled beside Vivi’s feet. They examined the room over, gauging the personality and temperament of the manager-owner. Some photos hung in order on one wall, underscoring debut attractions through black and white lens.

 “Daylight’s a’wasting away,” Arthur mumbled.

 “How are we going to enjoy the remainder of our day, if that thing comes roaming again?” Vivi snarked back.

 Arthur leaned back in his chair, letting his head recline on the headrest. “We can’t be like those storm chases, but we’ll be dino chasers. We should get pay per encounter.”

 Lewis leaned a little his way. “We already do that professionally.”

 Arthur twitched. “So why are we tryin’ to get tangled in this mess, on our one day off?”

 Woof. Mystery raised his ears toward Arthur. We’ll get benefits! His bob tail wagged.

 The back door opened, and a man emerged. He wore a nice suit with stripes, along with a bright electrifying tie. He surveyed the group, a set of small but trendy sunglasses fitted over his eyes. Following him was the Ms. Attorney lady. She shut the door and stood to the side.

 “I’m told you three refuse to sign some release forms,” he stated. The attorney nodded.

 Vivi shrugged. “We’re willin’ to sign, but we want to know what that… nasty thing was first. It’s for a little insurance. Your people seem to have a problem, one which my crew is prepared to assist you with.”

 The manager took his seat at the desk. “You think the three of ya’ll can help with an issue my park staff is prepared to amend? With our standardized procedures and dozens of work crews, on standby?” He leaned forward over the desk. “What’s your pitch?”

 The group exchange glances. Lewis stood up. “To start, your go to solution for this gig is have people sign the ambiguous release form. So I ask you, sir, what have you managed to accomplish with all your resources and park staff?” He crossed his arms and grinned.

 Manager blinked and edged back in his seat. “Er, well, my people are adequately trained—”

 “Adequately ain’t cutting it.” Vivi stood up. “My people are experts in this field of work, and we’re gunna save you so much money.”

 Attorney lady inched toward her boss. “Sir, you don’t need to listen to them.” She brought her arms from behind her back, and revealed the sinister clipboard with the forms. “They agreed to sign, if you afforded a short audience. You need not go further with this discussion.” She jolted when Vivi snatched the clipboard away.

 “Oh dear, you’re tots right. Guys.” Vivi set the clipboard on the desk and twirled the pen around her finger. “Guess we’ll be signing and leaving. We’ll just head off to some other amusement park, one with better rides, and the less likely hood of getting mauled. Though I love-love-LOOOOVVE the thrill of danger!” She cackled.

 Lewis brightened. “I love her when she gets like this.”

 “You would.”

 Mystery put his paws up on the desk and looked up at her. Vivi gave his head a pat.

 “A shame, isn’t it Misty?” She put the pen to paper. “He’s so excited to solve mysteries. It’s our raison d'etre. Isn’t that right, Mystery?”

 Lewis reached over and pulled Arthur up by the collar of his vest. The whole group standing, ready to sign and be on their way. When the manager looked his way, Lewis dropped the big grin on his face.

 “Hold on a moment,” Manager stammered. “Let’s not be hasty. Your group is qualified, in this field of work?” He snapped his fingers, looking to the attorney lady. “The Mysterious Stalls?”

 “It’s Mystery Skulls,” Vivi huffed. “And that requires some assessment. What exactly is your problem here? We’ve seen the results,” she gestured around the room, “damaged property, terrified guests—”

 Arthur piped up, “Potential lawsuits. If that thing tangles with the wrong people.” He shrugged, “Those checks won’t cover an amputation, and our guy nearly lost his feet to the jaws of death.”

 Manager groaned and touched his head. “All right-all right.” He reached over the side of his desk and fumbled with the drawers. After a brief spell, he pulled up a pill bottle and a bottle of water. “Ms. Carter,” he turned to the attorney lady. “Can you draft up some new affidavits?” To the Mystery Skulls:

 “You won’t be signing these.” He took the clipboard from Vivi.

 “Sir?” Ms. Carter posed. “Are you certain? These are freelance….”

 “Investigators,” Vivi offered. “And we don’t have a long list of clients, since we are thorough with our work.”

 Manager waved her off. “A brief work contract, swearing their silence if they so choose to work for me. The details of compensation will come later, with the results. Go to it now, I’m paying you.”

 Ms. Carter cast her eyes towards the group, then her employer, before exiting the room by the back door.

 “Now,” Manager replied. “Where to begin?” Again, he rummaged around on the side of his desk. This time he brought forth some folders stuffed with files, and from between the documents tumbled blurred photographs.

 The attraction for The Land Time Forgot, had several independently mobile and free roaming dinosaur animatronics. Models were based around prominent carnivores and herbivores of the cretaceous period – such as stegosaur, the tyrannosaur, raptors, spinosaurus, to name a few. Guests partaking in the ride, rode in a small buggy that navigated through a preset path. The ride was always fresh and exciting due to the primary attraction, the dinosaurs, roaming around or other times interacting with each other. Naturally, certain fail safes were programmed in, which prevented the animatronics from becoming unruly with one another or getting into traffic jams, which would shatter the existence of a natural ecosystem. It was also imperative to keep the imposing machines from wandering through the buggy’s trail, or exiting the park – these features self-sabotaging, since the mobility of each animatronic was limited.

 Save for one.

 “It was a gimmick, an innocent error,” Manager admitted. “One animatronic, the baby Allosaur, began to… deviate from it’s program parameters. At first it was considered an acceptable risk, it was almost real with its behavior. Reacting to lights, the sounds, other animatronics – the flash of a riders camera. But now, it’s an issue.”

 The allosaur deviated further, no longer reacting to only flashing lights or screaming guests. It began lunging at the buggy’s, though it remained within the programmed barrier which kept it from passing onto the road. This as well changed, and now the machine was routinely venturing out of the attraction itself. It was fine for a while, but now the theropod was attacking guests and the outside rides. For the time, the park staff managed to keep a low profile on these events, but rumors spread that one of the rides went haywire and now attendance was dropping.

 “Before,” the manager went on, “Profits boomed. People wanted to come by and see where the Allosaur would appear next. What mischief it’d get up to. But now, it’s damaging property, and I have to pay a higher commission for my attorney to handle guests who encountered it. Profits have plummeted, and thus far we have not been able to contain it. The artificial interface is out of control.”

 While the park manager spilled his tale of woe, the Mystery Skulls crew had resumed sitting. When he dallied on further exposition, they sat quietly, brooding through the context of their situation. Arthur did not look impressed.

 Vivi cleaned her glasses, and spoke, “So… stupid question. Why don’t you, I dunno, shut it off?”

 Manager nodded. “I wouldn’t say that’s a stupid question, more intriguing if anything. There’s a remote kill switch, along with a switch on all the animatronics which cuts power flow. The remote, I guess signal – I’m not good with the technological tactics – the animatronic overrides it. It refuses to shut down.”

 Now Arthur spoke, “That’s some hella AI game there.”

 “It’s cutting edge!” Manager gushed. “The ride was refurbished recently. When I purchased this theme park, I was told it was because the latest innovations went well beyond the anticipated recurring profits the original owner intended to make. Now though? I’m not certain if that was the genuine issue.”

 Lewis held up a hand and began counting off fingers. “Okay, so that we’re on the same page. One, you can’t shut it down. Two, you haven’t been able to catch-slash-stop it.” Manager nodded. “Cool. I think we can manage one of those two things. How ‘bout it Vii? You think we can handle this?”

 Vivi crossed her arms. “I actually think we should. We can handle it sir….”

 “It’s Klayton.” He rose from the desk and extended his hand.

 In due time, Ms. Carter returned from the back room with the paperwork for the short-term contract. It was a few pages long of formality, barring the Mystery Skulls ™ from speaking about the park, or do anything aside from detaining the Allosaur. There was a termination order, should they fail within a week to fulfill their objective. The group signed, as with Mr. Klayton and it was notarized by Ms. Carter.

 From there, the Mystery Skulls exited the managers headquarters, and returned to the attraction which housed the disastrous Allosaur.

 The first stop was the small disaster zone, where the Allosaur rampaged. Caution tape and some mobile barriers had been set up, barring guests from the traumatized site. Arthur slipped under a slant of the tape and examined the splintered pole from the fence. A couple meters away, Vivi stood examining the blocked entrance of the attraction. On the pavement, Lewis checked a muddy footprint.

 “What’d you take from all that?” Lewis called. “About the AI going haywire, and targeting guests?”

 Arthur dropped a splinter of wood. “Utter bullshit. I think it could still be some guy in a costume, like those meet-and greets.” He pulled out his phone and began swiping through the internet. “Allosaurs are much bigger, so why not make an animatronic to scale? Also, the movement was too smooth for a machine.” He approached Lewis and gave him a show of the images. Lewis nodded.

 “What about the Walking with Dinosaurs show? They mix people in costume and animatronics.” He poked Arthur’s phone, swiping away the images.

 Arthur muttered under his breath, “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

 Lewis grinned. “C’mon, it’ll be fun. And we can bargain in free food and lifelong passes.” Mystery came over to them, and he reached down to pet the hound. “And there’s no way we’ll get Blacklisted.” He unclipped the vest from Mystery and folded up under his arm. “You won’t be needing that.”

 Mystery had a full body shake. His hair poofed up all across his formerly lean dog shape, making him look vaguely pufferfish.

 “This was our holiday.” Arthur snorted, and pulled up some more search sites with images. “Let corporate avarice deal with berserk Jurassic Park gone exactly as expected.” When Vivi came over, he handed his phone to her and gave a brief of the speculations.

 “Don’t get confused,” Vivi stated. “We’re not doing this for Park Avarice. We’re doing it for the people that come here, unaware that the ride is dangerous ‘cause of the coverups. Still, someone is out there spreading the rumors, and persuading people to stay away. That’s definitely not done out of any kind of Whistle Blowing moral obligation.”

 Lewis cooed, “You think someone tampered with the animatronic.”

 “Yup. Someone wants to sabotage the park, and they don’t care if anyone get’s hurt along the way.” She turned to Arthur and handed back his phone.. “You wanna help people, right? And you’re good with electronics, maybe better than the engineers enlisted here.”

 Arthur pocketed his phone. “I work engines. There’s a distinct difference between circuits and engines.”

 “Anyway,” Vivi announced. She brushed past the guys and climbed onto one of the lower rocks, within the small garden plot. “We’re gonna solve this case, and prove once again you don’t mess with professional investigators!” She pointed her finger high, a playful gust whipped around her hair. Mystery hopped up onto the rock beside her and posed.

 Arf!

 Arthur leaned into Lewis. “She’s doing the pose again.”

 Lewis slipped a hand beside his face, and stage whispered, “The pose is empowering. It speaks to the spirits, beseeches their protection.”

 Arthur sighed. “We’re cursed now. Our quest is doomed.”