#multi shot

[herzzgeist]

List of contents - Zoro x fem!reader

Type of fanfiction: Multi Shot

Summary: Your most favorite place in the world is the old book store around the corner. It might look crooked and shabby, but that's what makes it's charm so endearing. Almost everyday you sit on your armchair as a regular, to enjoy the literature the kind book keeper offers you. However, the peace gets interfered with an illiterate man's sudden appearance, impudence not even close to describe his rash demeanor, who asks for a 'sake shop' in this very town. Now, you're stuck with him, for he decided to visit YOUR book store - everyday. Coincidence?

A/N: To think, a swordsman is able to READ? Can you believe it? Me neither. Warnings are listed in each chapter below the titles. Please read with care.

1. The Stranger

2. (tba)

Dividers by cafekitsune

[echoe-back-from-the-void]

Supernatural x Twilight~

(Jasper multi shot)

| One | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 |

Since I joined the Winchesters I've noticed that most of the monster fighting lands on Thursday's and I brought it up to the brothers. Sam being the smart one who was well read and knew most of the lore, began to laugh leaving me and dean confused.

"Shit! She's right?" Dean said but instead of laughing like his brother his face looked like he was having an existential crisis. "Sammy, why you laughing?"

"Castiel, Angel of the lord and Angel of thursdays." Sam said bluntly pointing his thumb at the Trenchcoat wearing Angel.

Dean rubbed his mouth before grinning as well.

I turned to the ever present Angel. "So it's your fault!" I said sarcastically.

Castiel blinked rapidly before bowing his head a little. "I'm sorry." He apologized.

"No, no, Cas! Sarcasm! I'm being sarcastic— I don't actually blame you." I spoke rapidly to the Angel while waving my hands rapidly.

"I know." Castiel said and smiled mischievously. Dean bumped the angels shoulder and snorted.

"Your a punk!" I said while getting up to get another round of beers from the fridge.

"Hey, only punk here is you kid. Still look like your 16 going on 17." Dean teased me because I was the youngest of our little hunter group. Cas being a whopping billion years old and Dean going on 32 and Sam on 28. I'm only 21, but I still look like some bright eyed teen getting ready for Highschool. Helpful on cases with children and teens because they were more likely to talk to me and monsters underestimate my age. But it makes it really hard to pose as a fbi agent or go to bars looking so young.

"Hardy har-har old man." I tease back. Easily popping the seals on the beer before handing them to their respective owner.

"I'm not that old." Dean grumbled but smiled anyway knowing I was joking.

Just like every Thursday, we were once again on another monster hunt.

"You know this is great, fighting on Thursday's. Because then we always get a nice three day weekend between cases." I say between killing another monster.

"Oh yeah nice for you! I'm the one who has to drive us to the next case. And you sit in the back snuggled up to my Angel, sleeping." Dean argues, ducking under a monster's arm.

"I offered to drive!" I say laughing as I block another hit.

"Nuuh no way in any hell I'm letting you drive baby after what you did to that stolen car!" Dean shouts back.

"I was running over a werewolf!!" I defend.

"Guys! Less fighting, more fighting!" Sam says from the left trying to hold off his own monster.

I rush to his aid and decapitate his monster. I wink while handing him a machete he dropped and run back into the fray. "If your so bothered, me sleeping with your Angel. Why doesn't he sit in your lap while you drive or would that be too distracting for you!" I tease at dean while twirling out of the way of another monster.

"Marcella!!" Dean said scandalized and was almost hit by his monster before killing it.

All the monsters were killed and we began dragging them to make a fire pile. "How the hell you two have a conversation between fighting is beyond me." Sam says while throwing another body on the pile.

Dean slings his arm around my shoulder. "It's a talent." He says proudly.

I shove his arm off and smile. "It's telepathy." I joke.

We stand around the burning pile and continue to talk. We walk back to the impala and are greeted by Cas asking if the hunt went well.

I blink and instead of standing in knee high grass I stumble on an ansphalt road. I look around, expecting to see Sam, Dean or Cas and met with crickets. I take in my surroundings more before reaching for my phone out of my back pocket. The phone has no service so I begin to walk down the stretch of road in what I hopes toward civilization. I pass a sign that says:

"The city of Forks, Washington. Welcomes you."

I continued to walk down the barren road until arriving at a little town. I found the nearest pay phone and began dialing every number I recall the Winchesters using, even calling Castiel's phone.

"I'm sorry but the number your calling cannot be reached." A dial tone responded.

I hung up in aggravation before moving to the nearest motel and checking in for the night. I sat on the bed and put my head in my hands.

It could be Crowley playing another game. It's not the first time I've been zapped somewhere else or kidnapped. Even Lucifer has had his chance to fuck around.

This isn't heaven. Because I may have never been but even I know my heaven wouldn't be some rando town in the middle of Washington. And it's not hell, Dean told me some of what hell is. And based on my lack of torture...

Did I really just get dropped off in the middle of nowhere for no apparent reason?

The next day I walked around town and was confronted by an officer. I read his name tag and it said Chief Swan. What surprised me was when he spoke, to summarize he scolded me for playing hooky and then gave me a ride to the local Highschool. He even asked if I was from the reservation to which I shook my head no. He dropped me off and pointed me inside, not leaving until I entered the building.

For a moment, while I was riding in the back of the cop car, I considered using a fake ID on him to make him leave me alone but decided against it. Who knows how I got here or when I can get back to the guys. So for now, I wait for my captor/kidnapper reveals themself. Until then I guess I lay low until Sam and Dean get my messages.

It was much harder than I thought to lay low. I had only been in the building for twenty minutes and was already turning heads. Was it the oversized flannel I stole from Sam or the clunky boots that could crush skulls. Maybe it was my posture, and the way I kept my hand on my knife in my pocket. It could have been any of those but 95% of the student body population avoided me for the first hour.

I had been dropped off so late in the day that by then it was lunch. I followed the overbearing noise with gritted teeth and got food before sitting. Apparently 'avoid the newbie' was over as a boy and two girls walked over to me.

A brown haired girl with a preppy attitude and a black haired girl that seemed more nerdy. The boy was black haired and also nerdy.

"Hi, I'm Jessica and this is Angela. Your the new kid right?" The brown haired girl said.

"And I'm eric, the eyes and ears of this place! And there if you need a shoulder to cry on." The boy flirts and my lip lifts in a snarl, even when Dean jokingly flirts he does a better job.

Being around new people in an environment I didn't like was putting me on edge, so my response may have come out harsher than I'd liked. "That's cute did you find that pickup line in a Tween magazine?" I bit my tongue to keep from being overly aggressive any further. "I'd like to eat my lunch in peace."

"What the hell! He was jsut trying to be polite!" Jessica screeched and I held my ear in exaggeration.

"Woah lotta lungs on you, prep." I said grouchily while resting my head on my elbow before going back to picking my food while flipping my knife open and closed under the table.

Chuck do I wish the Winchesters were here! I closed my eyes before remembering what Dean told me. "Treat the situation like your on a case, you can't outwardly be stressed, you need to be calm and collected. Look at it from all angles until it works. Play along and blend in."

I grit my teeth but I did what he said. Running my hand down my face I exaggerated my breath, my lip wobbled and eyes watered into a pitiful expression.

"I'm sorry, yeah I'm the—the new kid. I'm sorry it's." I crossed my arms tightly and looked away while my eyes watered more. "My uh parents recently died and I've been having a hard time not lashing out at people." I wiped my eyes and looked toward Angelica and Eric who would be easy to sway. "It's been hard I mean it was only last week and then I got dropped off half way cross country where I don't know anybody. It just sucks." I whimpered pulling on my young appearance so that I looked more innocent.

Angela's eyes widened before she quickly sat beside me and pulled me into a hug. "Oh my god that's horrible, are you okay?"

At the same time Angela asked if I was okay, Jessica also asked what happened.

Bulshitting the first lie I could think up I ducked my head like I was scared. "It was a hunting accident, we were hiking and some hunters had too many beers they started shooting as us. My dad covered me and mom but she was already dead." I whispered in a wobbly voice. Angela hugged me tighter and began consoling me.

I inwardly smiled and mocked Dean because again my youthful appearance and brilliant acting have saved my life. Whatcha got on that old man!

I would like to say I survived the first two weeks. I smiled so much my face hurt when all I wanted to do was snarl at people. I was integrated into Jessica's friend group and met other people. Classes were spent reciting rock songs that Dean would play in the impala while I tried not to bang my head on the table. The hardest part was I would read something I didn't understand and turn to ask Sam and he not be there.

And I know it sounds strange to miss the Winchesters so much but they're family. Since Dean got out of hell I had seen them off and on for cases until eventually we just combined forces. For the last four years it had been me and the Winchesters, saving people, hunting things, the family business.

I missed cas just as much. We would watch movies and shows and gang up on Dean singing pop songs in the car. Sometimes when I was really aggravated I would mentally replay Cas and me singing lollipop while we chased Dean until he bought us ice cream. It's my goal to make the Angel try every flavor.

I clenched my hand around my phone; it had rarely left my hand other than to charge. They should've called back by now, they should've found me or something. I may be a hunter and I've been on my own for some time before permanently joining them, but there was no way in hell or purgatory I would be crossing the country without some kind of idea where they are. I tapped my foot in aggravation while watching the clock. It's moving to slow I thought before leaving the classroom and ignoring the teacher yelling.

I slammed into the bathroom and quickly began dialing Dean first.

"The number your calling is unavailable or turned off." The robotic voice said and I growled.

Okay try Sam—"the number you are calling is unavailable or turned off."

I even tried Bobby and got the same message. I had called every number, every day for the last two weeks, always expecting a different result. I turned to the wall behind me and punched it in anger. My knuckles popped but did not split open despite the force. I'd expect they being turning purple by the time I get back to class.

Before I could punch the wall more or call another number, the bell rang and signaled lunch. I turned and threw one last punch at the wall before walking to the lunchroom. Mask back on place to be the person my "friends" expect.

"Howdy doody." I say as I sit beside Angela and across from Bella, the chiefs daughter.

"Hey Marcella!" Eric cheered and hugged my side before sitting next to me. "How was math?"

"Bite me, Yorkie." I hiss but play off my tone with a smile. He smiles back and bumps my shoulder.

Mid way through lunch someone finally notices my purple knuckles, unfortunately it's bella who is the most awkward person I've had the displeasure of meeting.

"What's wrong with your hand?" She asks, reaching out to touch the blooming colors.

"Got in a row with a vending machine." I joke but everyone is now looking at my hand and it makes my hand clench. "Really it's nothing, done worse." I shrug my shoulders and put my hand in my pocket.

After school when everyone is moving to leave the building I exit with Angela. Screeching tires fill the air and I turn to see a truck sliding on the ice about to hit Bella before a fast moving blur stops it with his bare hands and saves her.

"Motherfucker." I curse in disbelief. The scene rings so clearly in my head that it continues to replay on repeat while I slip away from the crowds and toward the back of the building mumbling about fucking fangers and twilight zone.

I stand against the back of the building and call the Winchesters numbers again with repeatedly no luck. "Trapped in this dead ass town with a nest of Vamps! And no fucking backup!!" I curse loudly while slamming my boot into the brick wall until it begins breaking from repeated abuse. "Son of a Bitch!" I shout into the empty air. I lay my forehead against the brick wall and control my breathing, switching to what Dean has often called my hunter mode.

Sam has told me once it's an unconscious decision. A survival instinct I built from being alone so often before I met them. Just one of those things I didn't kick when I went domestic, as domestic as a hunter gets. Eg having a home base and a bed every couple nights, having a makeshift family.

The next day, everyone gossips about the chiefs daughter almost being killed in the parking lot. Bella is fine of course. Coming back to school like nothing happened and the Cullen mysteriously leave because it's sunny. There's gossip about that too and for once I'm paying attention to gather every clue possible.

"So, what, you got like a crush on one of them." Jessica teases.

My lip lifts into a smirk. "I'm not into-" necrophilia- "brown eyes." I respond while taking a bite of my burger. Chuck, even dean wouldn't eat this shit they call burgers. I jokingly think but continue to eat it as it's the only meal I get free. "They're all yours Jess. Ogle them all you like I don't want none of it." I say out loud. "I'm done eating see you guys later."

For the next week I write every little detail I can remember from Dean telling me about the movies. He says he only watched them because this chick wanted to. Like I believed that.

So far I had accumulated a basic premise, the chiefs daughter falls madly in love with Edward. I'm pretty sure Rosalie and the tall big one are dating. Theres something going on at the Reservation. There might be vampire royalty. Is that like the alpha vampire? There was a war with other Vamps. There was a red head bitch, why is it always redheads?

When the Cullens do come back I pay close attention to them. I'm not the only one either, Bella carefully watches every day for a sign of Edward but he did not return with his family. He only shows up again a week later, making effort to befriend Bella.

In the middle of history I begin writing a list of things to do. I feel eyes on me as they watch my every move and act normally. I write my list using code words I had come up with.

Period supplies:

Tampons (machete)

Juice (dead man's blood)

Fruit loops (rope)

Meet the fawkers (find the Cullen coven leader)

I look up from my list and meet honey golden eyes, I find myself loosing thought as I'm drawn in. What clears my mind is when I watch them shift and darken and I examine the person as a whole. Jasper Whitlock-Hale, the Cullen in pain as the gossip goes. I grit my teeth and my eyes sharpen as we continue to stare at each other, he becomes the first to look away.

I Look down at my list and decide there is no time like the present and leave the class, regardless of the teacher protesting. I stalk the itinerary office and when the lady leaves I sneak in and skim the Cullen files.

Father: Carlisle Cullen

Occupation: Doctor at ####

His wife's name being Esme Cullen and she holds no current job beside interior decorating. Moved to forks Washington from Alaska.

I write the phone numbers on the back of my hand and slip out the office unnoticed before driving to a pawnshop on the reservation. Buying two machete and rope, I'd rather not break into a morgue.

[lololololchips]

In Your Hands || Kim Mingyu

In which Mingyu makes a bet with YN, his bestfriend and longtime crush, resulting in him getting a chance to go through and keep YN’s phone for a week. What happens when Mingyu goes through the phone and finds out things that can change his friendship with YN?

genre: smau, fake texts, short story au, friends to lovers, fluff, angst, non!idol, uni students!au

warnings: cursing, nsfw jokes, mingyu is toxic, talks about virginity, fem pronouns, jealousy, trust issues, mentions of alcohol and drugs

taglist is closed!

1. | control your puppy -> Wed. 16th

2. | code names -> Mon. 21st

3. | ghosted -> Fri. 25th

4. | the night of june 16th -> Thurs. 31st

extra. | the one that broke him

5. | silence -> Sun. 10th

6. | too late? -> Mon. 18th

7. | LONDON I KNOW HOW YOU FEEL -> Wed. 27th

TBA…

[winnie-the-monster]

“She knew Colin wasn’t going to marry her but at least he danced with her at every ball, and he made her laugh, and every now and then she made him laugh, and she knew that that would have to be enough.”

[alloftheimagines]

joel miller | first kill

masterlist | taglist | ko-fi

words: 1.8k

warnings: blood, violence, strong language, angst, hurt/comfort in the best way joel knows how, they/them reader.

synopsis: in which the reader is forced to take a life for the first time in order to save the man they love. not requested just more brain rot from me.

tags: @sweetbabygirlsworld

When the first gunshot sounds, you bite down on your tongue to trap a scream, tasting blood. Joel ushers you and Ellie down behind the truck, and you wrap an arm around her to keep her close. Joel hunches over you, protecting you both. You hate that he has to; hate that he sees it as his job.

But he’s the only one who can keep you safe. 

Your wide-eyed gaze snags on a small opening in the wall. “Ellie. Go hide in there. When Joel says go, you go.”

“Fuck, no. I’m not leaving you guys.”

“Do as you're told,” Joel bites out. He peeks over the top of the truck before returning his focus to you. As he does, a bullet pings off the metal and you all cower. “Shit. There’s two of ‘em.”

Your trembling hand reaches into your waistband for your pistol. You’ve never used it, not once, Joel always making sure you don’t have to. But there’s three of you now, and you’re not sure there’ll be an easy way out this time. 

He looks over the truck again. “Now. Go now. Stay low.”

You urge Ellie away, and she crawls to the hole at the same time Joel returns his attention to the shooters. You breathe a sigh of relief when she vanishes in the shadows. 

“You, too,” he orders, surprising you.

“No,” you reply. “Two against one? I don’t fucking think so. I’m staying.”

He sighs, jaw ticking in frustration, but there isn’t time. Footsteps grow closer. He rises into a crouch, balances his shotgun…

Shoots. 

You flinch as you hear the body hit the floor, and then another round of bullets whistles through the air from the remaining gunman. “Stay there,” Joel says. “Don’t move.”

You wouldn’t know how even if you wanted to, frozen in place. Silence blankets you for a moment, and then Joel’s finger flexes over the trigger.

His second shot rings through the dilapidated building. 

“Gone,” he whispers. “They’re gone.”

But you both know those shots were too loud, and anybody could be coming. Slowly, you rise onto your feet, peering over the truck. You try not to look at the bodies, the blood, as you ready your gun with both hands, just like he taught you.

Nothing. 

And then a figure comes at Joel in a blur from a side door, and the two of them collapse in a writhing heap. 

“Joel!” 

The attacker is armed, and he has Joel pinned down by the shotgun. Joel is grunting, suffocating. You point your gun without thinking, aiming straight for the back of the stranger’s head. Fear spikes through you all at once, and your fingers curl around the trigger in a deathly squeeze. 

The gunfire rents through the air, causing your ears to ring. The attacker slumps on top of Joel, and only as you see the blood blossoming just above his neck do you realise what you’ve done. The gun wavers in your hand like a ship in a tempest. You drop it, imagining that crimson staining your palms as the stench of gunpowder chokes you. 

You’ve killed. Taken a life.

Before you can worry about the bullet going through, Joel pushes the body away, struggling to rise to his feet. His face is splattered in blood. You barely notice him, too busy looking at the attacker’s now visible features. He barely looks eighteen, maybe twenty at most, maybe far younger. 

A kid. 

You shot a kid. Somebody’s son, brother, nephew. 

Joel is saying your name, but you feel like you’re underwater. 

“Don’t look at him, look at me,” he commands, cupping your jaw and tearing your gaze from the lifeless boy on the floor. “It’s okay. You had to. You had to do it. I’m here, okay? I’m here.”

Slowly, you begin to shake your head as tears roll down your cheeks. “What did I do?” A sob falls from you. “What have I done?”

“Shit.” Joel tugs you into his warm, hard chest, and your tears soak into his jacket. 

“He’s dead,” you’re saying, over and over. “I killed him. He’s dead.” And there is so much blood. You peek over his shoulder again and wonder if that speck there is brain matter on the floor or just your own brain torturing you. 

“I’m sorry.” Joel rocks you, his palm hard as stone as his fingers tangle in your hair. “I’m so sorry, darlin'. But we have to go now. We have to hide. People will be coming.”

“There’s a way out through here!” Ellie calls. 

It’s a blur as Joel lets you go, picking up your discarded gun and slipping it into his waistband. You can do nothing but stare at the life you’ve taken. It doesn’t feel right to leave the body, to leave him. Your victim. 

But you’re being pulled away, through a door, a window, into the street and another ruined building, running, hiding, Joel clearing each step along the way as he keeps you tucked beside him. You stagger on numb feet, looking back every now and again to the building where everything changed. The building where you first took a life. 

You have to stop after what feels like years of moving through the city, bile rising up your throat. You vomit all over the sidewalk. Joel’s hand strokes soothing circles across your shoulders — “It’s okay, darlin’. It’s okay.” — and then you’re being pulled away again, again, again. Finally, you find a place to stop. Joel checks every door, every window. You wipe your mouth, your tears, your snotty nose, finding that you’re still shaking uncontrollably. You imagine your freckles are blood stains and have to hide your hands. 

“Look at me.” He’s cupping your jaw again, his face unfocused. You think about wiping away the blood crusting his weathered skin, but you can’t bear to touch it. “It wasn’t your fault, okay? You did what you had to. You saved me. It was my fault, baby. I should’ve seen ‘em coming. I should have known better. I should have been the one protecting you.”

There’s no answer that you can give. No answer that will undo what you’ve just done. You didn’t think it would feel like this, killing someone, especially when you know the attacker would’ve killed Joel if you hadn’t pulled that trigger, but it feels like the life has seeped out of you as well as him. It feels like there is a darkness weighing you down now, and you know for certain you will see that gaunt face every day, every night.

“We’re going to have to settle here for a bit,” he’s saying to Ellie. “Give them time.”

You sink down without taking off your backpack and are unable to keep from looking at your hands again. They won’t stop shaking. You’re certain they’ll never stop again.

Another hand covers yours. Joel’s. He’s knelt in front of you, wearing an expression full of sorrow — of loss. Because he’s lost you. The person he knows, the person who has never taken a life, who has done everything they can not to leave the world worse off or bloodier than it already is. 

He squeezes your fingers tightly. “Listen to me. Are you listenin’?”

Your bottom lip wobbles, but you nod. 

“I know,” he says. “I know what this means. I know that something has changed today. I know how it feels to carry ghosts around. But I need you to stay with me, right here. I need you to focus, just for a little while longer. You hear?”

You swallow. With the rough pad of his thumb, he wipes away your tears. “We can’t stay here. We’re in the open. We need to keep moving, but we can’t do that if you don’t come back to me.”

“I thought… I thought you were going to die,” you whisper. “I thought…”

“I know, baby, and you did so good. You did so fuckin’ good.” He shifts beside you to press his forehead against yours. Both clammy. “You saved me. You kept me alive.”

You took one life for the sake of another. And the worst part is that, even now, when you are breaking on this old carpet, you know you would do it again if it meant keeping Joel safe. Joel and Ellie. It’s the reason you didn’t think twice. 

You can’t lose him. You can’t do this without him. He’s all you have to cling onto, and so you do, knotting your fingers in his shirt as though reminding yourself he’s here, he’s real, he’s worth the guilt and the pain and the fear. 

“I’m a killer,” you breathe. 

“Sometimes, there is no line between killin’ and survivin’. Not in this world. I’m so goddamn sorry I couldn’t stop him. I’m so…” His face crumples, eyes turning glossy. But he sniffs, shakes himself out of it quickly as he places a kiss to your forehead. “It shouldn’t have happened. But it has. And now there’s nothing we can do to change it.”

You close your eyes, and he’s there to catch more tears, more pain. Nausea rolls through you, but you swallow it down, catching a glimpse of Ellie. Though she’s trying to hide it, she’s terrified, and it’s written all over her face. 

Better you than her, you think. Better this world makes you a killer than a fourteen-year-old. 

“Okay. Okay, I’m ready to keep going.”

“You sure?” Joel whispers. 

You nod. 

He kisses you again, this one lingering enough that Ellie fakes a gag, which earns her a dirty look from Joel. 

“I’m going to do everything I can to make sure that this doesn’t happen again,” he vows. "Everything."

You brush your fingertips across his cheek sadly, knowing it shouldn’t have to be him all the time. He shouldn’t be the only one fighting his demons. 

Now, he doesn’t have to be. 

“We have to protect each other,” you say. “Give me my gun.”

He gives you a reluctant grimace. “Darlin’...”

“It’s too late to go back,” you say, and you’re not just talking about the kill, the blood on your hands. You’re talking about the way you love him, the way you can’t stop loving him. The way your love has somehow made you into a fierce, broken, desperate killer. And a survivor, like he said. It’s too late to go back, and even if you could, you wouldn’t. 

You love him. 

He must see it all over your face, because he softens as he tucks a sweat-slick strand of hair behind your ear. So gentle. He’s so rarely this gentle. 

“Give me the gun, Joel,” you ask again. 

He does, dropping it into your outstretched hand. You want to flinch against the cool metal, but you fight that feeling, slipping the gun away quickly. 

You try to compose yourself, moulding your features into something you hope seems reassuring. Joel dips his head before standing, holding his hand out for you. You take it and let him pull you up, and somehow, the world doesn’t crumble beneath your feet. Somehow, the earth keeps turning. 

Somehow, he doesn’t look at you like you’re a monster. So you keep going, keep dragging this new ghost around the city with you in the hopes that one day it will be worth it.

[bubba-luz]

Do you have like a summary of petals somewhere? From what i can understand from the comics its a zosan centric infection au and i wanna know more

Hi, thank you for the question.

Petals was an au for a now defunct fic I was writing earlier this year called “petals, a bloodied tongue” . I had published the first chapter and was working on the second chapter, but due to lack of interest from others and not really knowing what I was doing with a big story I wanted, I deleted it. I did make art for it, as you can see, and some notes when I was trying to map out the story.

You got it mostly right, it is an infection au, though I considered it be more Zoro centric, since I planned it to be told majority from his pov. I got the idea from One Piece Movie 6 Baron Omatsuri and the Secret Island and a 2008 film called The Ruins. It was a plant-based horror story with some cosmic elements. I mostly wanted to write a story where Zoro couldn’t really protect anyone. Zoro makes it his job to be the strongest and always protect the crew. But this is something beyond his control and he can’t slash his way through it.

The Strawhats end up on a mysterious island after a strange storm the night before. The island looks peaceful and has weird animals and creatures on it, but overall nice temporary vacation spot. Then Chopper goes missing. Then Nami and Robin. They find Robin, but shes sick? Nami is no where to be seen. So they eventually get picked off one by one. I made a numbered list of who goes first:

And manner of “death”:

The island itself is alive, it is it’s own being/animal. The souls of those that are consumed are trapped at the heart of the island, and their bodies are essentially fertilizers, some people grow into trees, or flowers, etc. There was a scene I wrote as a test run, of zoro finding a tangerine tree, the tangerines taste metallic like blood, and the juice is a red orange. So their blood also runs through the island.

For humans and the like it tends to infect them, they may cough up blood, sweat, hallucinate. They grow weaker in a matter of hours and lose mobility and the ability to speak, as there are plants growing inside them. Eventually they bloom and are consumed by the island.

Majority of the arts I did were scenes from the story, like Zoro giving the flowers to Sanji, Sanji telling Zoro he’s sick, Frobin having a moment.

This is the full layout notes I did:

I had some in between stuff planned, like Robin’s group exploring abandoned ruins which is where they are attacked and Robin is infected. Zoro and Robin have a conversation about some groups believing that when they die they become a star in the sky, so, eventually, they’ll see their loved ones again. Zoro digging into the ground hysterically after he realizes Sanji is gone.

The infection hits Sanji the hardest and slowest because of his genes and he’s the last to leave Zoro.

As for why Zoro never gets infected, I had this weird idea that the island recognizes Zoro as an animal like the island is. This would tie back to Sanji telling Zoro that he “doesn’t think Zoro is a mindless wild animal, even if he fights like one sometimes.”

Also I forgot to post this:

This would be Luffy’s death, but he comes back as the little dancing monkey orchid that Zoro sees when he’s all alone. Zoro believes he has lost it from grief.

Chopper turned into the little bean guys you keep seeing, he’s the one with the broken leaf. He seems to still remember Zoro.

Sanji turns into a field of dandelions and daisies. He got infected when he smelled the flowers Zoro gave him. The field seems to protect Zoro from any hostile animals.

Zoro has these recurring dreams of Sanji running away and leaving him, much to Zoro’s efforts. His final dream Sanji places a hand on Zoro’s heart and smiles and disappears, Zoro wakes up to Sanji gone.

Zoro also sleeps more now, since he sleeps with Sanji. He feels safe with Sanji, so he let’s his guard down.

Here’s chapter one, unfinished two, test run

If you have any specific questions, please send an ask in the inbox.

[shinelikethunder]

you ever stare into the middle distance and just. think. about how Doctor Who series one episode eight "Father's Day" first signaled that time itself had gone screwy by having the radio start playing a song that didn't exist yet in 1987....... and then lapse right back into Rick Astley's "Never Gonna Give You Up." in an episode that aired on 14 May 2005. two full years before the invention of the rickroll.

[nicooriia]

I had finished this earlier this year but only posted it on youtube. Saw a fellow post their part for the same MAP so I wanted to render mine too!

... why do I insist adding gradients that look like ass in .gif...?

[skzdarlings]

i am writing so many jisung stories at once this is ridiculous 😭

[kingleedo]

ONEWE 'A book in Memory' | Yonghoon

[herzzgeist]

1) The Stranger

Pairing: Zoro x fem!reader | Word count: 2.8k | Warnings: Cussing

A/N: To think, a swordsman is able to READ? Can you believe it? Me neither.

Dividers by cafekitsune

The scent of earthy and aromatic coffee wafts over to you, as you take in the warm and cozy atmosphere of the book store. It's times like these you enjoy the most. At this hour, the shop is hardly occupied, giving you the opportunity to fully induldge yourself in a good book and dwelve in the silence. Only the cracks and puffs of the fireplace echo in the back of your head.

All that ends to your chagrin, for a rather bothersome man enters at front, questioning the poor store keeper in a raspy voice: "Scuse me mister, I'm searching for a sake shop, which should be around here. Think I missed a turn." - "I-It's right across the street, Sir." Is he being serious?

Taking a close look at the stranger, you notice his hair immediately, green as a freshly rained upon meadow and three golden earrings glittering on his left earlobe. They clank with every move he makes. A scar vertically grazes over his eye, causing it to stay shut, right on the same side of his metallic jewelry, confusion apparent on his rather stern face.

It leaves you in slight abashment, to think this man to be quite handsome. Shaking those ill thoughts away, you go back to your read and continue where you left off. The front door closes again and you see the green-hair pass by your window in the corner of your eye. He idles for a second and turns to his right, walking along the village's streets. Strange. The sake shop is only a few feet before him, did he change his mind perhaps?

Syllable after syllable, you sink into the deep wonders and fantasies of your book and chuckle inwardly, enjoying the onholding humor and playfulness the author decided to weave within the lines. Then, another sound of the bell, being hit by the door's edge, tears you out of focus. To your curiousity, it's the same man you analysed just a few minutes ago.

"Are you sure it's around here?" - "Sir, it's only ten steps infront this book store. Literally.", you overhear the dialogue and decide to join in, still with your book in hand. "Pardon me for interrupting, but what seems to be the problem here?", your gaze switches between the green-haired man and the vendor.

Surprise plasters over the intimidating one's serious visage before you, not seeming to have taken any notice of you so far to your delibaration. Tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, you await the expected answer of these two gawking men. "This imbecile here seems to be blind, not just on one eye." - "Oi, I was asking for directions, not pathetic jokes." His hand holds onto one of his three katanas, which are fastened on his red waist band. This man means bad news.

Before it escalates any further, you grab the agitated stranger's hand and lead him outside the shop, muttering in an angry huff, that going into a banter with random people isn't just pointless, it's unheard of. Unbeknownst to you, a blush crept over his cheeks by your touch, following you in all cluelessness.

You turn on your heels to face him, only to see the man knitting his eyebrows in an adorably disgruntled way. Honestly, it tickles you. With a light chuckle you prompt: "What? I'm showing you the way to the sake shop. Besides, I don't want you to destroy my favorite book store after all!" Clicking his tongue in protest, he replies in a deep rumble: "I don't need your help. And so what if there's one stupid book shop less."

Annoyed, you puff your cheeks and knock the three hundred pages of literature in your hand against his head, of course not with all your might, but just enough to leave a bruise. Exclaiming shortly with a deft 'Ow', he immediately holds his already growing, you might call it 'horn', on his forehead. Do you know, who you just 'injured' (Y/n)? Safe to say, the green-hair is not amused. Snatching the book out of your tiny grabbers, he flips through the pages: "I hope you're reading something about aggression therapy, 'cus I suggest you'll need it, woman."

Being the biggest bully of your nightmares, he thrusts the leather bound papers into the air, before you can reach it in your slowly faltering jumps, holding out for your belonging: "Give it back!" - "Not unless you apologise for that uncecessary nerd assault."

Nerd assault? Oh, the audacity. Crossing your arms you avert your furious stare elsewhere and deny his delusional claim. "Suit yourself, let me see what roils inside your little reader's head." Following the bookmark's edge, which looks strangely close to a swords heft, his fingers flick the pages to it's destination aside. Will you look at that, it is in fact a carefully crafted miniature metal katana, dull yet beautifully adorned with sword knots and engravings. The love for detail draws the stranger in like a moth to the flame.

Thus, the one functioning eye hovers over the paragraphs. One catches his attention the most.

Doubt thou the stars are fire, Doubt that the sun doth move, Doubt truth to be a liar, But never doubt I love — Hamlet. Act II, scene 5

"W-Will you finally give it back?! This is embarassing enough!", you whimper while facepalming in disbelief, hiding the inevitable redness. Perplexion spreads over the green-head's face, reading those words.

Oddly enough, they move him in a way he wasn't expecting they could. Never was he the type to sit down and engage himself with mere letters being written down on paper, for he simply cannot fathom their importance. Why bother with the burden of collecting these dust catchers of knowledge, only to store them back in a shelf?

Noticing his absentmindedness, it was then, where you take the opportunity to grab your book and hold it to your chest, your arms pressing it close to your heart: "Are you done gaffing into my 'little reader's head'? Look, there's the sake shop, like I promised!" With your index finger pointed towards the long awaited ale cave, the man jarrs his head to return back to reality. Out of trance, he questions you in earnesty: "What is this about?"

You don't quite follow. His gaze focuses on the leather cover in your hand. In disbelief you explain: "Th-This? This is Hamlet." An awkward silence grows over both of you. Clearly, the matter of reading literature of such high class, isn't of this stranger's stature.

"You know - Shakespeare?" - "Doesn't ring a bell.", your jaw drops to the ground in sheer astonishment, negatively that is. To your dismay, a supressed giggle leaves you in skepticism. Lowly you add: "The William Shakespeare?" Once more, a nonchalant shrug answers your dumbfounded query.

Still gobsmacked, you shake your head to concentrate on the more important: "Sake". Giving the sturdy man a shove with both hands on his back, as strong as you can muster to make that pure mass of muscle move, you prod: "Alright, here's the shop you've been searching for! I have other things to attend to so-"

The green-hair's expression grimaces in uncertainty, not fully comprehending what the rush is about. Stuttering, he cannot even form a full sentence, always restarting with a muffled groan: "O-Oi, no wait- I- can we -" - "Sorry, got to run. Farewell, jade head."

Jade head? That is something he never heard someone call him before. Are you colour blind by any chance? Though it's not quite the shade you promptly announced it to be, nevertheless, he can't seem to deny to take a liking to that premature nicknaming. Smacking his lips in irritation, just thinking about the shitty cook calling him Mosshead, already sticks a sour aftertaste on his mind.

"Welcome! How can I be of service to you, kind Sir?" - "Give me your best you can offer.", he enters the sake shop and gets greeted by a cheery and dapper looking old man, proposing his guest a tasting of all sorts of just recently delivered wines and other none sake bevarages. Although he isn't that much into grape juice with a hint of promille, he decides to tag along, not seeing why he should decline such a temptious invitation. It's alcohol. Might as well buy a barrel of sake in the end, there's a chance this store is worthy of his tastes.

The golden orb dipped into the darkening horizon, engulfing the land and sea in blackness. Crickets chime in to a musical interlude and the stars light up the picturesque scenery. Lanterns flicker, their flames dancing in the soft breeze. The stranger's onyx eye lingers at the window, seemingly lost in day dreams. After nine glasses of potent wine, even a man of his caliber ceases to manage the impact, leaving him tipsy and slightly wobbly on his feet.

That woman he met today left an imprint on him. You. How come he wants to see you again?

Back outside, with a barrel of sake in tow, he stops at the entrance, right after exciting the shop. The alcohol hits him stronger than he likes to admit. This is the place where he last saw you, he actually remembers. Suddenly, a sharp spark on the ground lets him faintly gasp, stinging his eye.

Slowly inching closer to the shimmering object on the stone street, he kneels down, almost immediately recognising the shape. It's your katana bookmark. Letting his rough digits glide along it's tiny blade, he takes a close look at this little piece of art. Perhaps he could return it back to you? A tempting opportunity to meet you once more, if he ever will that is.

His gaze shoots up to the book store infront of him. There is still a dim light shining through the window. Could it be?

Hesitating, he props himself onto the barrel, which now serves as faithful brace for his only ever more enhancing staggers. In consideration of either risking it to peek through the glass or find his way back to the sunny, he musters  at the bookmark in his calloused hand in the end. There's no guarantee he will even succeed in reaching the book store's doorstep, due to his lack of 'way finding skills'.

Mayhaps he shouldn't have tasted all these different kinds of wine, now taking his head for a spin. The sheer amount of pressure thrumming at his skull is near to bursting this ruthless man's ear drums. A low belch emits from his chest, escaping his mouth through his slacked jaw. How utterly disgraceful. "Shit, that stuff's pret- ty strong.", a hiccup interrupts is spoken aloud thoughts, legs beginning to give in slowly but surely. If it weren't for the barrel's support, the green-haired one already might have hit the cold stone ground, face first.

A loud creak of a wooden door opening, coming from the book store across the street, startles the drunk stranger. After a quick glance, recognition curls his sloppy lips to a delighted smile, calling out in a huff: "Oi, nerdy girl!" - "Jade head."

Upon seeing the man, who you oh so eagerly tried to get rid of this afternoon, you roll your eyes in annoyance. He doesn't seem to have any urgent plans, explaining his carefree, more reckless, drinking. Light footsteps make a stop next to the alcohol induced fool. With a scoff, you let your lashes flutter at the drunk, asking if his tastes have been met. "Y-You could say that. That wi- ne hits - different. Didn't get to taste sake- though, so I just bought- a barrel.", rasping at you with occassional inward burps and hiccups, his onyx orb narrows at you, appearing suspisiously lecherous. You blame it on the wine, it's odor wafting in the air, the source wobbling before you as proof.

"Let me guess, do you need directions to an inn? To sleep off the inevitable hangover?", the questions roll off your tongue with a hint of mock, for he only answers with a smug grin: "Actual-ly, I'll need directions for- the harbour, Miss." The harbour? Furrowing your brows, you count two and two together. Is he - a pirate? That is rather bothersome, given the fact that he's drunk, not a very pleasant combination. A drunk pirate often leads to bad surprises, to which you're not keen on finding out, if he's that kind of heathen.

An amused snort reverbes from deep within him and he cocks his eyebrow at you: "I know what you're thinking. Y-Yes I'm a pirate and no I won't hu-rt you." Stretching out his hand to you, he shortly after starts an assertive introduction: "Roronoa Zoro. Swordsman and Pirate Hunter." Hesitation won't let you take hold of his oddly enough inviting looking palm, waiting for you to embrace yours.

Thus you decide to give in to your over attentive and cautious demeanor and shake this close to be trusted man's hand: "(Y/n). I- umm. I actually have no fancy title nor reputation to be proud of, so . ." - "Except nerd?" Propping your hands onto your hips you cackle sarcastically, accepting your fate with this tease of a swordsman.

Gaining back his strength and some additional confidence, he straightens himself from his trusty barrel and towers over you, flashing a wide grin. "Gotta say though, you're pretty, for a nerdy girl.", he says, surprisingly sober. It must be the wine talking. And is it just you, or does he inch closer to you, each time you blink your in fluster widely torn open eyes?

The stench of alcohol causes your nose to wrinkle in discomfort and you stutter like a little school girl, uncertain how to react to his insinuations. There are these ill thoughts again, of you deeming him to be quite the looker, a dreamboat if you're completely honest with yourself.

"W-We should get going! The harbour isn't exactly around the corn-" - "You're rushing way too hard. Why don't we just-", first he interrupted you with a low chuckle, leaning down to your level to drown in your deep e/c eyes, second however, a booming voice echoes in the distance, interfering him and his unknown to you intentions. It seems to be a man calling out for someone out there.

"Marimo! Where are you, you dumb wannabe swordsman?!", you hear the insults and curses coming your direction. To your notice, Zoro looses his composure, shoulders sinking and head drooping in defeat as he clicks his tongue audibly upset. Suddenly, a tall blonde man stands next to you, heart eyes flinging your way: "Why hello there! I am terribly sorry, if this bafoon made you feel uncomfortable! He's with me."

This seems to be one of the Pirate Hunter's crew mates. Confused you greet the dubious blonde. He flusters in a shy smile: "My lady, pardon this unexpected intrusion, but if you excuse us. This fool should be back with us at the ship. On the other side of this god damn isle." Earning a vexed groan from the one eyed man, he grits his teeth to the crew mate's obvious bickering.

Hinting the oblivious blonde, that you and him held a quite specific moment with 'subtle' signs such as clearing his throat and nudging his head towards you, his mate won't budge even once. Without question, he's not buying it. Grabbing the swordsman by his collar and heaving the barrel onto his shoulder, he pulls the staggering drunk after him: "Anyways, have a nice evening, lovely lady! Until we meet again!" - "For fuck sake shitty cook! Let go of me! Can't you take a hint you-" Cussed protests stopped by seeing you wave goodbye to the green-head being towed away.

Slightly confuddled you chuckle at the scene playing before you, recognising how the jade-head, you chose to call him, cannot hide a creeping blush on his usually stoic and confident expressioned face. Be that as it may, but did he come to realise how foward he was with you? The chemistry was extraordinarly palpable, that, you can't deny. Nevertheless, will you see him again?

This is the only picture Zoro is able to remember of this fateful day, meeting you for the first time. Or second if you will. The urge to cut down the curly browed idiot, who calls it his privilege to drag the 'greatest swordsman' away, grows ever so fleetingly, evident on the popping vein, appearing on the Pirate Hunter's temple.

The onyx coloured eye lingers to the distance. Something within him roils restlessly. Zoro can't put a finger on it, but he must find his way back to that book store. After all, he still carries your bookmark.

[echoe-back-from-the-void]

Supernatural x Twilight~ Pt.2

(Jasper multi shot)

(I’m sorry for the gif. But this is just so funny to me to write. I’m poisoning you with horrible fanfiction.)

| 1 | two | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 |

I drove down the road to the hospital and staked the place out. Sneaking inside to steal Dr Cullens schedule. He won’t be getting off for another hour so I waited in his car for him to leave. I waited laying down in the back of the car for him to get off. When he opened the door I held my machete to his neck.

“Vampire.”

“Are you the one my children are worried about.” The doctor asks calmly.

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t associate with fangers. How many are in your nest?”

“Just myself, my wife and children.”

I snort, “fangs don’t have kids. You’re Just monsters that run on blood and hunger.”

“We don’t. We’re different.” I press the blade closer. “We don’t feed off humans. We eat animals. See.” He nods his head to the mirror. His eyes shine a bright golden color. “Our coven are not killers. We hunt the woods. Boar, deer, mountain lion, one of my sons likes bear.” He appeals calmly.

I think it’s the calmness that throws me off. The certainty and softness in the way he speaks. Love for his children and wife. I Slip my thumb along the base of the blade and even as the blood pearls he doesn’t react. I nod and pull my blade back to me. “Must be a good enough vampire to be a doctor.” I concede before opening the door and leaving his vehicle. I hear the window opening behind me and turn my head.

“Will you come after me again?” The doctor asks.

“Not if I don’t have to and I don’t want to.” I run my hand over my face. “I don’t kill unless it threatens human lives or my family.”

I see him nod his head before he backs out of the parking lot and leaves down the stretch of road. Most likely driving home to his nest to inform his wife and then their kids.

I shake my head and scuff my boot. Dean would call me a softie. Technically I should kill the entire coven. They threaten Bella’s life, time and time again in the future. If they become a threat then I will kill them, no different than a case.

I go back to the motel I continued to stay at, reapplying seals and sigils that would prevent any supernatural entry. This is the last straw, I’ll leave in the morning.

Time skip ~~

Due to reasons, which I suspect are foul play, I was again stopped by Chief Swan and escorted back to the school. I figured that I would play along and as soon as he leaves, book it out of this place.

Unfortunately due to what I’ve coined as hunters luck, I was then mobbed by Angela, Jessica and Bella. Like a stampede I was herded into the school and into my classes.

I could feel a ‘Cullen stare’ in every class and it set off every instinct to fight. Durning lunch their stare was increased tenfold and while I was not outwardly affected. Mentally I was a tiger pacing a cage. Ready to rip and tear my way out.

I grit my teeth and angrily bowed my head over my tightly clasped fists. I had lasted this long, I was glad I chose to sit by myself because of what I did next.

Looking around the lunchroom for wayward glances I bent my head down and began praying.

"Castiel, Angel of the lord, Angel of Thursday's and travel. Please get me the fuck out of here or give me guidance." I whispered into my balled fists that were clenched so tightly they turned white. I gave it a minute before I shook my hands and clasped them again. "Gabriel, Lucifer. Or whatever Angel who's got the radio on, I'm calling in a favor. Please!" I said in agitation. I waited for something happen but nothing did. No lightning, ringing bells or shattered glass. “I swear if I make it out of this shit show alive…” I didn’t finish my sentence because Jasper hale turned to me.

His face said confusion while the rest of him was tensed. Chuck, if he didn’t look pretty when he’s confused—I shook my head before glaring and standing to leave. I left the lunchroom and could feel as I was being followed. Under my breath I whispered. “Follow me, and I’ll expose you as what you are. I have nowhere else to run.”

The person continued to follow me but with more slack. I nodded to myself before climbing up to the roof. I knew that just because I was on a roof didn’t mean they couldn’t get me. But that is where I stayed for the remainder of the day. There was a constant feeling of being watched but I ignored it in favor of planning.

I withdrew some knives and the gun I had strapped to myself and began to sharpen and inspect every piece. It was all I could do to keep myself still.

This felt like any regular hunt but more electric. Adrenaline running fast enough to make my heart explode while being so calm I could plan seven different outcomes on a dime. When the bell rang I took that as signal to leave. I easily jumped off the roof and landed into a barrel roll before dusting myself off and making my way to my stolen vehicle. I tried starting the vehicle and was unsurprised when It didn’t start.

Bella came running over to see, “hey is everything alright? Do you need a ride?”

I put on my best easy going smile. “It’s alright. I just gotta Pop the hood and fix it. Happens all the time.” I lied easily.

I pretended to work on my car for the next thirty minutes while cars continued to clear out of the parking lot until it was only me and the Cullens.

I chuffed before turning around and leaning against my car. The short pixie, Alice and Edwardo began to walk toward me from their cars. I rolled my eyes and tilted my head mockingly. “My place or yours?”

Alice seemed to brush off the sarcasm and smiled blindingly. “Wed love for you to join us at our house so we can clear everything up.”

I reached behind me and scratched my head. “Rather not. See I told your coven leader that I would leave you alone. As long as you aren’t a threat to humans or my family. That sounded like a threat, pixie stix” I held the machete infront of me so they would stop their approach. “I’m obviously not being rescued so you know what, I don’t give two helleva shits what you do. I want out this town. Give me back my radiator cap.” I said waving the blade nonchalant.

“Emmet.” Edwardo said and soon the tall one had broken my machete. I looked between the broken blade and the lumbering giant before snarling.

“You son of a bitch!” I growled out, I could feel my adreniline spike before I lunged for him. Grappling him to the ground as we began to fight. I punched his torso while grabbing his arm and pulling him so he would roll over my back. I felt something crack in his arm and I held my foot over his throat when he was laying flat on the ground. The fight stalled before he pushed my foot off and we began to fight again. He picked me up and threw me. I stoped my fall by landing on all fours. Before I could lunge for him again I was held back by another pair of arms. I looked behind me to glance short golden hair.

“Let me go cowboy!” I growled while struggling. I could feel him falter before holding me tighter.

“Our family just wants to talk, Ma’am.” He responded in a unused voice, Texan accent thick.

“Yeah right, heard that shit before! I don’t care what you fuckers do to this town!” My adrenaline began to falter and I sank in his arms. “I just wanna go home. This game isn’t funny anymore.” I whined.

I was then led into a car with cowboy, emmet and Rosalie. I sat with my head back in the seat as I just drifted in my depression. We got to their home in under two minutes which didn’t surprise me at the speed they drove.

Jasper held my arm as he led me into the house where I was greeted by a smiling auburn woman. “Hello, I’m their mother Esme.”

Not outwardly responding I bowed my head lightly in greeting. I was led further into the house to a living room and asked to sit. I didn’t fight, I had lost all fight. I sat on the couch with my legs apart while I sank back and let my head rest over the back so I could examine the ceiling.

“Would you like anything to eat or drink?” Esme asked politely.

“Nothing against your hospitality but no thank you.” I said monotonously.

I did not talk no matter how they tried to coerce me. They don’t seem the type for torture and so I waited for their maker. Strangely, the cowboy, Jasper. Continued to sit beside me.

Everyone jumped to attention listening to the sound of the Good Doctor’s car and then the clinking as he unlocked the front door and then entered the living room.

I rolled my head to face forward and leaned over my knees to address him. “Good evening doctor Drac.” I said sarcastically.

“I really prefer Carlisle.” He said smoothly.

“I really don’t care. Due to interference I’m still stuck here. I could’ve been gone by morning but someone sent a Smokey after me.”

“I wanted to talk to you again.”

“I didn’t.”

“My family and I want to make it clear we are not a threat to humans. We can coexist peacefully.”

I waved my hand for him to stop. “Look Nosferatu, I don’t care. I’ve let fangers go before. There was a woman, Lenore, her coven fed on cows blood. We let her and her coven leave.” Under my breath I mumbled, “tried to.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rosalie asked venomously.

“Was another hunter. Had it out for all fangs, kidnapped her and tempted her with blood. At first she was bloodthirsty before she began to reject it. Fucker killed her anyway, nothing me or my brothers could’ve done.”

“Are these the same brothers you call everyday before school? Sam and Dean?” Alice spoke up.

I jumped up ready to fight her when jaspers arm came across my midsection and pulled me down again.

“She meant no offense.” He said softly when he had me seated again. Calmness began to blanket me in a way that made me angry.

“Don’t patronize me, cowboy.” I said heatedly.

“Earlier you said you didn’t want to play this game anymore? What game?” Edwardo asked taking my attention away from Jasper.

I chuffed before turning to the coven leader, “got any whiskey?”

“Aren’t you…”

“I’m 22, yeah, I look 16 going on 17. I just went with it when the cop picked me up. Wasn’t gonna waste my fake IDs on some Smokey.” I said cutting him off. In a flash he was back with a glass of whiskey. I kindly accepted it before throwing it back without pause. “Better than any dive bar.” I rolled my neck as I felt it kicking in. A sudden feeling of trust and family began to bleed into the blanket calmness. I turn to the person in question. “Don’t toy with my emotions, I know what your doing.”

I turned back to the doctor. “Want the beginning beginning or just cliff notes?”

“The beginning please.”

“I was born in a family of two hunters, in a world unlike your own. Monsters roam the earth, vampires, werewolves, ghosts, djinn, wendigos, skin walkers.” I paused.

“I wasn’t raised like the other kids, most hunters have a kid and wanna settle down, leave that life. Bout as easy as leaving the mafia. My parents didn’t want to settle down. I was raised from the age of four to carry a gun with silver shells and rock salt rounds, a blade and holy water. I had exorcisms and monster research for bedtime stories. I killed my first ghost at five.” I said proudly. “Like I said the life was hard to leave but having a kid with you just makes you a bigger target. They died in a werewolf attack around 8 and I went on to bounce around with other hunters until I started going solo around 14. Nothing to big, I looked pretty young so I couldn’t really do the whole, ‘I’m a cop, tell me everything’. Just went and killed things, helping people. Met the Winchesters after Dean got out of hell. Went for sellin his soul for Sammy. I’d join them on a couple hunts and met some of their big Bads.” I smiled widely. “Some of em didn’t like me too much. Crowley, the king of hell, oooh we have fun. Shot me in the shoulder, got em back some.”

“There was Gabriel, of course at the time he was under witness protection as Loki. He likes games, made us relive the same day over and over and over again while dean died over and over. A real Groundhog Day. Then put us all in a rolling commercial. Archangel’s got juice to create separate realities and stuff. But I think we’re on truce with him.”

“Archangel, hell? Like the hell?” Carlisle asked in confusion.

“H-e-double hockey stix, doc. All real, never been of course. And the angels are real too, great bag of dicks with wings, cept Cas. Castiel pulled dean out of the pit, of course that started the apocalypse; but semantics ya know. Then there was Lucifer rising.”

“You called out to him and them in the cafeteria?” Alice asked.

“I’m tired of their games. I want to go home. I want out of this warped reality! I want—my brothers.” I said defeatedly. “We were on a ghoul hunt, nasty bitches, and we had just finished and were walking to baby, my brothers car, when I’m no longer with them. I’m on the road outside your town and I just keep walking. I call every number! And I get nothing! I thought I was just on the other side of the country. I tell myself; they’ll come for me. And if this is some kidnapping then I can wait to find my captor, I can play along. My brothers will come find me.” I end softly.

“If it was Crowley, he’d have come to gloat by now or play cards at least. If it was Loki there would be more candy and mischief. That leaves dear old Satan. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s held me captive.”

“Why do you keep saying that? Held you captive. Your not captive. Your.” Edward asked.

“Your missing the best part, edweird, this is a prison world. You all are characters from a book series geared toward young adults. The love story of Edward and Bella.” I say laughingly before sobering up. “Never read the damn books, was too busy. Dean saw the movies because some chick made him watch it.” I snorted. “Didn’t realize I was even in the book until you stopped Bella’s car. I was so pissed! Me in some pansy ass vampire romance novel. Fucking shoot me.” I snarled the last sentence. I looked disapprovingly at the empty glass and regretted shooting it back. “Can I have more?”

Esme looked disapprovingly but Carlisle did refill my glass. I tipped it toward the matriarch. “I promise you I’m not getting sloshed off two glasses, no matter how old it is.” I sipped the glass in appreciation.

“You called us fangs, and fangers?” Jasper said from beside me. His family continually watched him when he would move or shift. Wincing when he had pulled me back down earlier.

“Ya know, fangers, vampires?” I put my fingers over my mouth in mock fangs. “Fangs.”

He showed no outward reaction so I leaned over and lifted the corner of his lip. I blinked in confusion, when I lifted higher and did it see the cavity where the teeth extended from. “Say ah and hold this.” I handed him my whiskey and put my finger further in his mouth, poking and prodding for fangs. I pulled back in disbelief. “Seriously?! What kind of vampire hadn’t got fangs?! That’s inconvenient as all hell! So what you just slurpy the vein?” I fell back into the couch and gazing at the ceiling and grumbled. “I fucking hate twilight.”

I turn to the doctor, he had a tense expression and was watching Jasper out the corner of his eyes. “What?”

“It’s Just, Jasper is the newest to our diet and—“

“You think he’ll attack me?” I snorted. “I’d put cowboy on his ass.”

“She could, Carlisle.” Emmet said before shows casing his arm that had spiderwebbing cracks running through it. “She can crack us.”

“Wicked.” I said nonchalantly.

“Not wicked, you shouldn’t be able to do that!” Rosalie argued. “We should kill her and be done with it.”

“Come at me grease monkey.” I threatened.

Again Jasper distracted me by handing me back my glass and trying to calm me with his ability. I began to explain myself “In my world, you don’t crack, the only way to kill a fang is to behead them, preferably with a machete. You broke my machete so I said fuck it and started fighting. Not first time I’ve been out of options.” I sipped the drink again. “No matter what happens on a hunt, you don’t give up until the monster is dead. Too many good hunters get caught and killed by the things we hunt. It’s a cycle. As many hunters die, new hunters are born. Some because they seen the things that go bump and others who just want answers.”

Alice perked up and flounced toward me making me tense. “You said your brother had watched the movies. So that means you know what happens next.”

“I know you got some royalty, I’d compare that to the alpha vampire. I know Bella and edweird get together, married, have a kid. Something is going down with the natives, you got beef with them. There’s a war, two actually. One against newborns and another against the royals, but dean said It was a premonition and then there was no war.” I rubbed my forehead. “I didn’t pay attention he would just keep talking about the chick and her—” I shook my head and leaned back “never mind.”

“We aren’t real?” Jasper asked in confusion.

“You are, that’s the wonder of the multiverse theory. Every story is another world, with its own rules. Your reality is as real as mine. This isn’t some fever dream, I really am in another reality, it’s not impossible, told you that archangel’s have the juice for things like that.” I swirled the liquid in the glass as I thought over my next words. “I’ve been here a month, I laid low, I stayed put. I prayed for fuck sake. If I make it out of here I’m gonna shoot chuck, that’d be nice.”

“Chuck?”

“God. Ya know big G.” I snorted and took a deep gulp of the amber liquid that tasted like honey. “God is a disappoint, if any of you were praying when you were alive, then you were wasting breath.” I chuckled to myself as I held my hand over my mouth to muffle my amusement. “God left after the first ‘pocalypse, couldn’t stand the fighting. God’s been absent since the beginning.” I said sardonically.

“You’ve met god?” Edward said with extreme skepticism.

“Met him? We thought he was a fucking prophet!! He was masquerading as a man named Chuck Shurly while he wrote books about my brothers. Dean was pissed when he found out that every little thing they did was being written for the masses. Their blood shed and pain were broadcast and mocked! My brothers ain’t perfect but for someone to write down their darkest moments like that—” I ran my hand over my face. “Chuck is lucky to have his head.” I said darkly.

“Your world, do you know how to get back?” Carlisle asked.

“I might. Go back to the source. Look for markings or any disturbances.” I looked outside the numerous windows to find it was already dark. “That can wait for tomorrow. For now I just wanna go back to my motel and watch reruns of M*A*S*H while I paint my tonsils.” I stood up and tipped back the last of my drink before setting it on the table and approaching Rosalie. “I’d like my radiator cap back?” I said holding out my hand.

“How do you know I took it?” She sneered.

“I know a grease monkey when I see em.” I answered and then the cap was back in my hand. “Thanks.”

“Will you be leaving town?” Jasper asked as he sped to my side.

“Don’t see how I can. I see you as much as you see me. We are at an impasse. Your coven is not a threat to me and I’m not a threat to you. But you wouldn’t let me leave even if I wanted too. I say I’ll keep your secret but you have no reason to trust me.”

“So, you will be staying?” Jasper asked again.

“For the time being. Cmon cowboy, you’re driving me back to my car.” I said pulling his collar as I walked.

“That might not be the best idea. Jasper—” Carlisle began.

“I’m fine.” Jasper added quickly and his hand hovered behind me, not quite touching as he led me out the door.

His hand never came in contact with my back even as he led me to the car and opened my door. Soon we were barreling down the dirt road and back to the school.

I had my hand on the door and he was already opening it from the other side. “Charming.” I said sarcastically. “I always knew Chivalry was dead.” I joked and he quirked a smile.

I walked to my car and popped the hood and began to maneuver the cap back on. I had expected him to excuse himself and leave but he didn’t. He stood beside my hood as he watched me work with rapt attention. “It’s Not like it’ll blow up.” I said raising my eyebrow at his strange behavior.

“You know what your doing.” He explained.

“Course I do. Dean would have a fit if my car wasn’t in tip too shape. Keeps his the same too, he drives a 1967 Chevy Impala. Badest car ever. When I first joined em he would show me how to tune up a car because he wanted me to get my own. Found a Chevrolet chevelle and he helped me fix it up till it was road ready. Sammy doesn’t like old cars as much, so Dean was always happy to show me how to fix them and make them new again. It was—is my favorite memory of my brothers.” I paused before backing up. “Move your hands.” Was the only warning I gave the vampire before I shut the hood.

I walked to the driver door and started the engine with a smile. “She may be stolen but that’s no excuse to neglect her.” I turned to the cowboy who had continued to keep me company. I pondered the actions he took today and recently. While I did feel an attraction to the honey haired male I did not feel ambition to per-sue such novelty. I closed my driver side door and he walked closer to my open window to talk more.

“Could I accompany you to your lodgings?” He asked with a near pout.

“Lodgings? Cowboy I’m going to a bar before I go home. Unless you want to buy my whiskey, go home.” I said thinking he would back down.

Instead he chose to flash to my passenger side and open the door. “You vampires are unbelievable.” I muttered before putting the truck in gear.

[megaerakles]

To Whom It May Concern

Tim couldn’t stay. 

No matter what Bruce had said when he caught Tim in the act of laying the paper trail to establish his Fake Uncle, no matter how long Dick had sobbed into the phone at him during an inordinately expensive long distance (read: off planet) phone call, no matter how much Alfred had been fussing over him and insisting it was no trouble at all to care for him since Tim’s scheme had been revealed and promptly foiled, it just didn’t change the fact that Tim couldn’t stay. Truthfully, the Wayne family’s apparent sudden burst of affection for him actually made this whole thing worse because somewhere along the way, without even trying, Tim had failed to keep things wholly professional between them and somehow tricked them into thinking he belonged in their family! 

He couldn’t let it stand. For the sake of Jason’s memory, for the sake of preserving the sanctity of the true Wayne family, he had to stop this… this absurdity of pretending that Tim belonged with them from continuing! Tim had to run. Tim had to vanish. It was the only way to make things right again. Sure, the thought of never seeing any of them again, the thought of being done with Bruce and Alfred and Dick and Barbara and everyone in his life he currently held dear once and for all made it feel as though his heart was being ripped out of his chest only to be shoved back down his throat to stop the flow of air into his body—but it didn’t matter. He didn’t matter, not nearly as much as they did. This would be for their own good. 

Tim was leaving, and it turned out to be easier than he thought it would be in the end. Not emotionally easier, but logistically easier. Bruce had been extra attentive lately, so he thought he’d have to fake an injury and get ‘benched’ so that they would lower their guard long enough for him to slip away. But by some divine stroke of luck, a new player had waltzed onto Gotham’s criminal scene not too long after Tim’s Fake Uncle plan fell through and started making threats against Batman and Robin. They had apparently freaked B out enough to prompt him to send Tim off to Titan’s Tower to ‘focus on his team for awhile’. Tim had accepted the command with the requisite amount of complaint, planted some fake texts to make it look like he’d actually communicated to his Team that he would be there, shoved everything from his guest room in the Manor that he couldn’t bear to part with into a duffel bag underneath a spare uniform, gave Bruce what only he knew was a more emotionally charged nod goodbye than usual, and then poof. Tim Drake was zapped out of the Batcave for the last time ever. 

He let himself have one night in the Tower. Partly to catch a few hours of sleep in a familiar and secure environment, but mostly so he could clean up his room for its next occupant, sweep his belongings and his person for any extra trackers, and repack his bag more efficiently. He also took the time to grab a spare backpack and fill it up with emergency rations. While he was taking plenty of cash, he didn’t want to risk having to go into stores with security cameras for a while, at least until he’d cleared a suitable distance from San Francisco proper as well as implemented the first of his many planned disguises. He didn’t think a bottle of cheap hair dye and some colored contacts would be enough to fool Oracle indefinitely, but if he was appropriately cautious it might keep her from getting a confirmation of his location long enough for the Bats to either get bored looking for him or to actually realize they were better off without him around. 

When the early rays of dawn started to bathe the sides of Titan’s Tower in ember colored light, he was off. He left behind seven trackers pulled from his clothes and bag and one more from behind his ear; he’d kept the one he noticed in his favorite pair of sneakers because it was a type that wouldn’t start transmitting data until the Bats actively started tracking it and he was hoping to find someone who wore his size at the bus station he could pay to wear them so he could throw them off for even longer. If all else failed, he would just toss them in an out of the way trash can. He had also left a letter of resignation for Batman that he’d whipped up based off of an online template, signed and sealed and awaiting discovery atop the pillow in his nearly empty dorm room (he had tried for something more personal, a longer note of explanation for Bruce about why he couldn’t stay despite being asked, but—the words just wouldn’t come, and he’d been running out of time). His bag was heavy, courtesy of all of the extra supplies he’d grabbed in anticipation of having to evade not only Batman’s team but the rest of the Justice League. His heart was heavy, courtesy of emotional baggage that he wished was as easy to unpack as his actual bags would be when he finally found somewhere to settle. 

He boarded the first bus he saw after he’d gone a few blocks and took a seat towards the back, where he leaned against the window and stared back at the iconic giant T that he used to belong in, however briefly, until it disappeared from sight. And just like that, Tim Drake’s life as Robin was over. 

—

To Whom It May Concern:

This letter is to formally notify you that I’m resigning as Robin in Gotham City, effective immediately. 

Thank you so much for the opportunity to work with you all for the past three years. I’ve enjoyed getting to know the team and appreciated the opportunity to learn about vigilantism and hone my detective skills. I’m excited to take these skills with me as I pursue the next step of my career.

During the past two weeks, I have done everything possible to wrap up any ongoing cases and leave no unfinished business. The Robin suit as well as my spare have been cleaned and placed in the armory of Titan’s Tower along with any gear I have been issued. 

I wish Batman and team the best, but am afraid I will be out of contact for the foreseeable future. 

Sincerely, 

T. J. Drake

—

Red Hood stalked into Titan’s Tower with all the grace of a wildcat closing in on its prey, his vicious smirk hidden by his helmet, his unauthorized entrance hidden by virtue of the heroes’ own stupidity in failing to remove his codes from the database. Seriously—he’d thought gaining entry into their so-called fortress would be the hardest part of this little trip, and had only tried his access codes for the sake of checking the most stupidly obvious Plan A off his list! For them to work, to realize that there was nothing truly separating the precious sidekicks from the wrath of a vengeance minded crime lord, well… it sure made the message he was about to send feel all the more poignant. 

He had come equipped to subdue an entire horde of Teeny Titans without hurting them (much), but to his surprise, the tower was empty of kid sidekicks despite Robin having been sent to work with his team yesterday afternoon, a fact Jason had gleaned last night from listening to the mind numbing chatter of Nightwing being bored on a stakeout and wanting to chat with anyone over the comms Jason had hacked into. Which he’d done in order to better plan his aggressive takeover of Crime Alley, not because he missed hearing his family’s voices. Nope. 

(Since coming back to Gotham, it had been more difficult than he anticipated to stick to the plan when some part of his mind still stubbornly clung to those foolish, childhood dreams of belonging and family and a father who gave a shit and things like that, and kept popping up with annoying questions like ‘what if he revealed his identity to Dick or Alfred or someone just to see if maybe Talia had been right and they’d want him back after all. Clearly, the existence of a new Robin meant that they’d never really given a damn about him, so he was going to go through with this thing, just watch him.)

Truly this had to be fate, because the path to Robin was practically unfolding before him with no barriers. All that was left to do was find where in this gigantic clubhouse the itty little birdie was nesting. Jason tried the common room first. Then the kitchen. Then the rec room. And then the training floor. And the med bay. And then the armory, where he found Robin’s suit, but no actual Robin. He supposed the next place to check would be Robin’s bedroom, because even though it was well past eleven, Drake was a teenager and could conceivably be sleeping in, especially since there was no Alfred around to rouse him at a reasonable hour. Luckily, the doors on the floor with sleeping quarters were all clearly marked with either the name or symbol of the person it belonged to, so it was easy enough to find the one with that all too familiar stylized ‘R’. Jason paused to take a steadying breath before gritting his teeth and deciding to really make an entrance by kicking down the door. 

…To an empty bedroom. Like, not just devoid of Tim Drake, but also devoid of books, trinkets, photos, decoration, clothes, dishes, mess, et cetera, et cetera. It looked as clean and sterile as a hotel room, and if Jason hadn’t literally just seen Robin’s insignia on the door he would think he’d entered an unassigned room by mistake. He frowned and yanked off his helmet, as if looking with his own two eyes would suddenly change the scene, but no. Nothing. He strode into the room and yanked open the closet—empty. He walked over to the desk and yanked open the top drawer—empty. He yanked open the bottom drawer, and mostly empty except for—wait, was that a pile of deactivated Bat trackers? Fucking bizarre. When he stood up, he glanced around again, and this time something on the bed caught his eye. It had been easy to miss against the white pillowcase, but there was an envelope tucked up against the pillow. With a scowl, he stalked over and grabbed it. 

When Jason flipped it over, he noted that it was addressed to Batman, but decided that since he was a crime lord now he didn’t have to care about something as trivial as opening someone else’s mail. He didn't want to take off his gloves and risk leaving prints on anything, so he pulled out a dagger and used it to slice open the envelope. As he flipped it over to dump its contents on the desk, he had the fleeting thought that he probably should have put back on his mask in case this had been some villain’s ploy to poison Batman, but luckily all that fell out was a single sheet of printer paper folded into thirds. 

This he was careful not to damage as he unfolded it. It wasn’t a long note, just a few small paragraphs, so it was quick enough to read: To whom it may concern. This letter is to formally notify you that I’m resigning as Robin in Gotham City, effective immediately… 

Jason dropped the letter and took a step back, staring at the innocuous piece of paper with wide eyes and racing thoughts. Robin had—Drake wasn’t—Timothy—the kid, he was quitting? Leaving? Gone? 

It could be a trap. It probably was a trap. Except Robin shouldn’t have had any way of knowing Red Hood would be able to track him all the way to Titan’s Tower so why would he have set a trap for him in the first place? A trap for someone else, then? If it was, it was really, really stupid of him because the kid had signed his resignation letter from Robin with his actual name, and surely he wouldn’t have made it this far if he were that careless with his identity. So, it was either a very bad trap, or not a trap at all. And if it was not a trap at all, then… 

Then Robin had… resigned. Which, ok, Jason’s stated goal coming into this thing was to get Tim Drake to stop being Robin. So he should be happy about this, right? Except he’d not gotten to toss the kid around and work out his aggression at all so there was no satisfaction in it. Also, the timing was fucking obnoxious. Go figure that the very day he decides to do something about his replacement, the kid decides to peace out of the Gotham vigilante scene and… and go… 

… Somewhere. Jason had no idea where Tim Drake would go if he were no longer Robin. Given how he’d waited until he was alone and then left the note to be found on the other side of the country, Jason had a sneaking suspicion that returning to Gotham was currently off the table. The letter had said he would be ‘out of contact’ for the foreseeable future; Jason could read between the lines enough to figure out that meant he was running away. 

—Which, fuck. Another Robin was running away from Batman because of… well, Jason didn’t know what this kid’s issue with B was, but there were plenty of potential flaws in the man to choose from so Jason was going to play it safe and assume it was something Bruce did. Clearly, the man could never learn. And now, this poor dumb Robin was going to pay the price! Jason was more than familiar with the number of horrors that awaited kids who ended up on their own. He could starve; he could freeze to death; he could catch some disease like the flu, or get cut on a rusty nail and get tetanus, and then die from it because he couldn’t access medical treatment. He could get mugged, or harassed by cops, or snatched up by traffickers, or—

And fine; Jason himself had meant to hurt him. But that had been for ideological purposes, to prove a point about putting children in danger and not taking good enough care of them and stuff. It wasn’t like he was going to hurt him that badly, just bad enough to freak out Bruce a bit. But Jason was also the Red Hood, and the Red Hood’s mission was to do what was necessary to stop awful shit from happening to vulnerable kids. And this stupid, stupid letter was apparently enough to abruptly transfer Timothy Drake into that category in his head. 

Everything Jason had heard about the kid said he was smart, and the timing of his disappearance pointed to some thoughtful planning on his part. Jason could imagine that the little shit had some sort of plan in place to evade Batman’s attempts to locate him, and he probably could manage to run without getting caught by Bruce and the Gotham team for a while. Heck, the kid probably had strategies to get away from most if not all of the Justice League members, since B was sure to call in favors once he got frantic enough about the little bird. But one thing the kid likely did not plan for was being pursued by him. Ex-Robin, currently a crime lord, League of Assassins connections, and a bone to pick with Timothy specifically? (He ran away from home and left a fucking resignation letter about it? Does he not realize what that would do to Dick, to Alfred, to Bruce—)

After stuffing the letter into his pocket, Jason put back on his helmet and stalked out of Titans Tower as silently as he’d arrived, this time with a new yet equally furious purpose sharpening his steps. Sucked to be Timothy Drake, he thought, because the Red Hood got his message and he was officially concerned. 

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

I have made a first pass at a flowchart for my fics! This one only has multi-chapter fics on it (because I don't want to put 100 fics on there, fifteen took long enough). It'll be more legible if you open it in a new tab and zoom in!

Thanks to @blakbonnet for suggesting the flowchart idea, I had a lot of fun making it. Give it a look and find the fic you should read on my ao3 here!

[greenandsorrow]

My Alastor in the rut fic was originally written as a oneshot, but some of you have asked for a second part/ the aftermath/ how the relationship between our two deer demons will progress.

You won. Your choice!

For clarification. If I do write the second part, maybe it'll be slightly shorter, but not less detailed!

Also, there's a chance it won't have smut, as Alastor will go back to being "an ace in the hole" after the rutting season ends. That doesn't mean that he can't form relationships though, so... 🫣 (expect fluff)

If you have anything specific you'd like to see in the second part, throw it in my asks or leave it as a comment!

You can ask to be tagged if you're not already in part 1.

tips!! / requests guide/ masterlist

❤️thank you for interacting❤️

with love, Ophelia❣️

[gothamite-rambler]

Why the batgirls don't like have their brothers around some of their friends

Connected to my multi-part fics. Who would you pick as a possible partner?

Barbara rolled into her apartment with her friend and coworker, April.

Barbara: I'm glad you came over. The finance department has been going crazy with—

Dick Grayson walked out of the guest room in nothing but his boxer briefs.

Dick: Hey, Barbara, and… her friend.

April's mouth dropped open when Dick smirked at her and waved. She had to look away while blushing.

Barbara (covering her eyes): Ah! I told you to stop walking around in your underwear when you’re staying with me!

Dick shrugged, fanning himself.

Dick: I’m sorry; your AC is off. You've seen me with fewer clothes on.

Barbara (grossed out): Don’t remind me! God, those days… Open a window or something, don’t just walk around in your briefs.

Dick: I mean, you're the only one complaining.

Barbara: I have a guest who would disagree, right, April?

April (walking over to Dick and holding her hand out): Babs, you get started on the… whatever I came over for while I chat with this… Adonis.

Dick: Sure, by the way, the name is Dick.

He shook her hand making April simper with a smile.

April: Yes, it is.

Barbara (talking loudly): Dick, when is Kori dropping by?!

Dick: She’s on a trip, but I’ve told you this. She’s told you this. We have a very, very open relationship.

April clapped eagerly as Barbara rolled her eyes at yet another poor soul falling for her friend's charm.

April: That’s all I needed to hear! But I understand if you don’t want to talk to someone like me.

Dick (flirtatiously): I’m free for you.

April: Boy, stop… Boy, you’re so crazy.

April led Dick to the couch, and they started chatting and flirting while Barbara rolled past them to her office.

Barbara (frustrated sarcasm): Great, you guys waste time. I’ll start the paperwork. Definitely felt like doing this alone.

Two hours later, Barbara left her room for a drink when she heard moans and squeaking from the couch. She was horrified to find April and Dick naked on her couch having sex.

Barbara (horrified): God! Why my couch?!

Dick (sweaty): Sorry, sorry! We'll go to the guest room.

Dick carried a giggling April to the guest room as Barbara pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to block the mental images out of her head. It didn’t help when the squeaking started up again in the bedroom.

Barbara: Yep. Every time. Maybe I should've kept screwing him; then he wouldn’t be banging women on my new sofa!

Barbara rolled to the kitchen, ignoring the clothes across her room and pondering this option, but shook her head with a grimace.

Barbara: Eh… nah, not my type anymore.

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

Stephanie and her friends from college, Katie and Oz, stood outside the Megaplex theater waiting to see a movie and for Tim to arrive.

Stephanie: You guys are going to love my brother.

Katie: Which one again?

Stephanie: Tim Drake. He’s my age. We dated at first but broke up, so now we’re like siblings. Yep.

Katie looked at Oz, confused.

Oz (shrugging with his eyes closed): Dude, I stopped questioning their family dynamic a long time ago.

Stephanie (eager): Oh, stop it! Tim is super cool, ex or not. He should be here soon.

Oz: Hm, Tim Drake? That's the one who's out, right?

Stephanie: Um, yep, but he’s taking a break from dating, and he is basic-looking—like Wonder Bread basic. Not your type.

Right as Stephanie said that, Tim rushed to the group, stopping when he got to them. He bent forward, catching his breath. Unfortunately for Stephanie, he didn't wear what she considered basic; instead, he was in a tight white shirt and jeans.

Tim (catching his breath): I'm late… sorry. I got held up… It’s a long story. Um, hi, I’m Tim.

Katie: Sup, I’m Katie. My drooling friend next to me is Oz, and Steph, I may be into girls, but he is not basic.

Tim crossed his arms, staring at Stephanie in shock as she averted her gaze. Oz looked Tim up and down before removing his shades.

Oz: He most certainly isn't. Picked the perfect outfit as well.

Tim: Thanks! You're not too bad-looking yourself.

Oz (smirking): I like you… honestly, I've read up on you before and I like a lot about you. You’re into men, right?

Tim (flirtatiously): Yeah, especially guys like you.

Oz: Sit with me, Tim.

Oz shoved Stephanie out of the way and looped his arm through Tim's as the two walked into the theater.

Stephanie: Did he just take my brother on a date?

Katie: Girl, duh! Oz took his shot and won.

Stephanie: Oh please, Tim definitely took the shot first! Although I would’ve appreciated it if he did not do that again!

Tim glanced at Stephanie and shrugged with a smile.

Forty minutes into the movie, Stephanie couldn't focus on the cheesy romance flick due to the make-out session happening behind her, where Tim and Oz sat.

Stephanie (whispering, annoyed): I'm both impressed and pissed off.

Stephanie tossed popcorn behind her at Tim and glared at him.

Tim (pulling away): Give me a break; I haven’t heard from him in a week.

Stephanie turned away as the make-out session resumed, and her seat was kicked lightly from Oz's leg. She groaned, silently praying that Bernard would finally call her brother back!

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

Cassandra Cain (in her Orphan suit) and Rose Wilson were together to stop a drug bust, but Cass invited Jason to help.

Rose (checking the time on her phone): This "brother" of yours better not be wasting my time.

Cass: He won't. Sorry Nightwing couldn't make it, but trust me, this guy is the better option. He’s a good fighter, an amazing marksman, and he's dealt with drug dealers for a long time. You can trust him.

Rose: I doubt this team-up very much.

Jason (standing behind the two women): Are you talking about me?

Rose glanced behind her but quickly spun around. Cass turned casually. Jason was wearing his alternative hero suit.

Rose (awestruck): God damn!

Jason (already knowing what she's looking at): Thank you.

Rose (surprised): You’re the… brother?

Jason: Yup, and you’re Rose Wilson.

Rose walked closer to Jason enticed by the attractive man.

Rose: Please, you don’t have to call me by my full name. Rose is just fine.

Rose ran her hand over Jason's chest.

Jason (flirtatiously): Nice to meet you, Rose.

Cass: Um, Rose, Jason, you guys good?

Rose: Cass, go the other way and, um… keep watch over there. Jace and I need to chat.

Cass (oblivious): What will you two be doing?

Jason: Talking; we have to get to know each other.

Jason took Rose's hand.

Rose: Mm, yes. Exactly.

Cass: Oh… okay. You sure you don’t want to stick together? Guys?

Rose and Jason had already walked away.

Rose: Tell me more about yourself.

Jason: Where do I start?

Jason ran his fingers through his hair as Rose smiled. Cass walked away, grumbling.

Cass: What? Hmph. Barbara wasn’t kidding; it’s just Jason!