#system crashed into a building or drove off a bridge

[bunnyb34r]

I really wasnt expecting that anti-apple post to get notes sgdgdgdg I feel so validated 😭💕

[melishade]

Attack on Prime New Age Anthology: Optimus Prime

Main Story

The Message

Investigation

Gabi Braun

Optimus Prime (Right now)

Convincing

Aftermath

The Autobots finally see Optimus Prime.

"We're in the next town!" Bumblebee declared as he and Bulkhead drove through the spacebridge as fast as they could, trying to search for both Optimus and Megatron in the chaos of the Rumbling. They both witnessed the sight of the Colossal Titans demolishing the buildings of the city with each step.

"Hurry up and search the place!" Ratchet ordered them.

Bulkhead noticed the humans that were desperately fleeing for their lives and couldn't bare the thought of leaving them all behind. "Bee, continue looking for Optimus! I'm gonna try to save those humans!"

"Got it!" Bumblebee and Bulkhead quickly split off as Bumblebee headed towards the Colossal Titans.

"C'mon, Bee, please, I hope you're able to find him," Rafael whispered.

Bumblebee dodged the debris and rocks raining down on him from the Colossal Titans. As he continued to dodge those attacks, he noticed a familiar aircraft flying above the Colossal Titans, firing purple beams of energy at the Colossal Titans. He remembered that aircraft. He remembered seeing it leave Cybertron all those years ago! It was Megatron! Megatron was actually here! So if those humans were telling the truth about that, then-!

Bumblebee heard screaming and turned his attention dead ahead to see a familiar red and blue titan shielding something that was on the ground. Optimus! It was Optimus! By the Allspark!

"I found him!" Bumblebee shouted, "I found Optimus!"

Bumblebee noticed a Colossal Titan ready to step on the Prime, and kicked it into high gear before transforming and jumping high into the air. He pulled out his new weapons: two electric stingers, and sliced through the foot of the Colossal Titan, paralyzing the foot of the Colossal Titan. Bumblebee skidded across the ground into the fray of the Colossal Titans, immediately feeling the stinging heat seeping into his armor. Still, he turned around and bolted towards Optimus.

“Bumblebee?!” Bumblebee almost broke at the sound of Optimus' voice but still pressed on.

“Bridge! Bridge! NOW!” Bumblebee called out as he grabbed onto Optimus.

"Move your asses!" Rafael shouted at the humans on the ship before pressing a button. A spacebridge opened right above them, and everyone immediately jumped out of the way as Optimus and Bumblebee immediately fell through and crashed into the ship. Bumblebee gasped with relief and fear as he rolled off of Optimus and stared up at the ceiling.

"Holy shit!" Connie exclaimed.

"Bumblebee!" Ratchet cried out to him.

"Don't touch me! I'm too hot! Check on Optimus!" Bumblebee told him. Bumblebee then noticed the way Optimus stretched his arms out and released two small children from his servos. realizing that's what Optimus was protecting.

"Hey, come here." Onyankopon grabbed them and quickly pulled them away as Ratchet kneeled down and began to scan Optimus.

“Ratchet?” Ratchet almost lost focus as the Prime spoke his name, but he ignored it as he recalibrated Optimus’ vitals to his systems. Ratchet saw that Optimus’ vitals were beginning to stabilize, showing actual signs of life, before staring at the Prime.

“You’re alive,” Ratchet could only say, “You’re actually alive?”

All this time, Optimus was alive. Optimus was alive for four years, protecting another world of humans. And...and carelessly putting himself in danger once again!

“Ra-!” Ratchet didn't know what came over him, but he immediately slapped Optimus in the face.

"R-!"

“What in the Allspark were you thinking?!” Ratchet demanded, cutting Bumblebee off.

“Believe me, he wasn’t!” Levi shouted, causing Optimus to snap his helm towards the humans they had just picked up. The Prime looked so surprised to see them all here. He was at a loss for words, but there was also a mix of relief in his optics.

"What..." Ratchet was stunned when that relief, turned into anger, "What are you all doing here?! You were supposed to remain on the island!”

"What the fuck?" Rafael mouthed to Jack.

“Hey! If it wasn’t for our quick thinking and us being here, you’d be dead right now!” Hanji shouted at him, “You just run off into certain death without a proper goodbye and you expect us to stay put?!”

 “Optimus! Answer your fragging communicator! Status!” Megatron yelled at him through the comm. link system.

“I am fine!” Optimus told Megatron, “I am on the Iron Will!”

“I can see that!” Ultra Magnus' mouth dropped at the sight of Megatron's alt mode flying past his ship. He quickly regained his composure once he was out of view. “Rafael, connect Megatron to our communication systems!”

“Great,” Rafael drawled out before typing a few things on the keyboard. When he was done, Megatron’s face ended up showing up on the screen next to Miko and Smokescreen. “Can you hear us Buckethead? If you can, fuck you for trying to destroy Earth five times!”

“Raf!” Jack shouted.

“Hate me all you want; I need help now! There are still humans here on the ground!” Megatron called out.

Jack was flabbergasted while Ratchet’s mouth dropped. Bumblebee managed to finally sit up and stare at the screen. Megatron…asked for help?! For humans?!

“I’m opening up a spacebridge to the other side of the planet!” Ultra Magnus informed as he accessed the coordinates on one of his screens.

Ratchet wanted to ask questions. So did Bumblebee. They wanted to know what happened. How Optimus got here! What had he been doing here?! But Ratchet noticed Megatron flying past the Iron Will and heading left. “Hey! Where do you think you’re going?!” 

“Eren is controlling the Founding Titan and the Rumbling! If he’s dead then the Rumbling will stop!” Megatron answered, “Why haven’t any of you Autobots targeted the Founder yet?!”

“Miko and Smokescreen are currently engaging the Founder as we speak,” Ultra Magnus informed.

“You let Miko and Smokescreen do what?!” Optimus demanded.

“IT’S A BEAUTIFUL DAY TO DIE!” Miko cackled through the comm. link system before slashing a Jaws Titan in the face.

“…you let the humans keep the Apex Armor,” Megatron concluded.

“Smokescreen also has the phase shifter,” Jack added.

“What about the humans on the ground?!” Bulkhead asked through the comm. link system, “I got a few of them clinging to me for dear life wanting to get away from this thing! I need a bridge to get them someplace safe!”

“On it!” Rafael informed as he opened a spacebridge for Bulkhead.

“Optimus, what do we do?!” Bumblebee turned to the Prime, “How do we approach this?!”

Ratchet noticed the way that Optimus' optics were full of confliction and fear. He looked uncomfortable with all eyes and optics on him, but then his gaze fell to the children civilians. All of them still crying and begging for help. Ratchet watched Optimus' expression of confliction fall away, his optics were full of determination. And he barked his first command.

(The rest of this you can go to chapter 93 to see how the rest of Guren No Yumiya plays out.)

[neonponders]

I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself @hoegrove your Bond!au is just too strong.

Based on their post here ~

I hope you like it 🥺 🌹 it’s on ao3, if that’s easier for anyone to read 🌹

• • • • • • •

013.

Fucking 013. Not 00.

Which meant he’d have to wait for whoever got the 00 status he deserved to either die or become incompetent.

“Congratulations, Hargrove. Report to HQ for briefing.”

He’d rather be headed for the private plane that would take him to some tropical location, where capitalist monsters waited for his bullet.

Hargrove stepped out of the elevator onto the spacious floor. He really wished HQ would renovate. The concrete floors, glass walls, and metal beams were urban but not chic.

He found the corresponding desk of his... “partner” of sorts. Every number had a letter. The computer and the muscle. As Hargrove removed his outer garment, though, only the computer desk was present, while the person - 

“Could you not dump your nasty jacket on my work station?”

Hargrove sighed and found the loon - on a bicycle. He frowned. “What the hell are you doing on a bike inside?”

“It helps me think,” Q said, riding slow laps in between the cubicles. Granted, there weren’t many of them, and Hargrove was pretty sure he’d only ever seen Q and maybe three other people on this entire floor, unless there was a crisis.

Maybe that’s why he had yet to be promoted to 00. Too much peace.

“Take your jacket off my seat!”

“Jesus Christ,” Billy cursed. He balled up the ruined jacket and threw at the bastard’s head. To his credit, he didn’t crash into anything. “Clean freak.”

“That’s Q to you,” he barked, dumping the raggedy garment into the nearest bin.

“Sure, Steve,” he purred, knowing his partner loathed the fact that he had figured out his real name. Hargrove wouldn’t work for just anybody, after all. And he was a detective first. Hired gun second.

He didn’t actually need Q. So he told himself. But Steve sure came in handy.

“So help me god, Billy. Did you at least keep my pen intact?”

“Your what?” He landed in Steve’s spinning chair, forcing the guy to lean his bike against his cubicle and stand with his hands on his hips.

“My pen, dip shit. You know, the one that’s basically a Swiss army knife. The one sanctioned by HQ to one Asshole Hargrove - ”

“Oh, that,” he said distantly, gazing out at the city around them. “It broke.”

Not surprised, nor impressed, Steve remarked, “You realize that if some nerd civilian reverse-engineers half the shit you lose, we might be genuinely compromised, right?”

“Then make better stuff.”

“Stop losing it, and you might actually be 00 one day.”

Billy glared with all the menace a man could while having his chair rolled out of the way. Steve shoved him aside with his foot and entered his computer password before navigating to the corresponding case briefs. Billy let his head recline on the seat while Steve went through the list.

“Target?”

“Deceased.”

“Car?”

“Totaled, but returned.”

“Pen: lost in action. Suspect?”

“Null. Excellent in bed, though.”

“You’re a cliche.” Steve glared from behind his glasses.

“Stop giving me cases with attractive people, then,” Billy smirked. “Who’s my next target? Tell me they live somewhere expensive and sunny.”

“Like a desert?”

“No, like Marseilles.”

“Oh, Marseilles is nice,” Steve chirped distractedly. “If you like French people.”

Billy snorted, but it evolved into laughter. “What’s wrong with French people?”

“They’re French.”

“Wow. Picky.”

Steve giggled under his breath and said, “I’m sorry I don’t have a gig for you in France.”

“I’m sure I’ll managed,” Billy sighed. “What do you have?”

“Something more domestic.”

Billy exhaled through his nose, warranting a curious peek from Steve. “Yeah, that’s what I’m stuck with. One zero and domestic jobs.”

“You’ll get there,” Steve reassured. Softly. Which was...odd.

Billy’s head rolled over the back of the chair to stare at him. Steve quickly added, “If you stop breaking the shit I loan you.”

Billy looked toward the ceiling, pressing his lips into an impertinent line...

“Q.”

“Hm?” he asked while typing away.

“There’s a bird in here.”

Steve looked at him. “What?” and followed his gaze up to the metal rafters. A grey bird gazed right back at them. “Oh shit - ”

Billy already had his pistol out. One shot knocked the bird off its perch. It landed with a loud, metallic clatter.

Steve's body doubled over when Billy wrenched his arm in the direction away from the device, and not a second too soon. The force of the explosion knocked them both over one cubicle and roughly onto the concrete floor.

"Q," Billy growled when the guy scrambled to his feet and back to his desk. He reached underneath it, uncovering a baseball bat of all things, and swung right over his hard drive. Metal and plastic debris rained over the floor, and then he ran to the router standing on a low piece of furniture along the wall. He wrenched its cables out and smashed the thing too.

Then he looked up at Agent Hargrove. "We're compromised."

Billy was already moving toward the scattered carcass of the spy bird. They didn't have a lot of time. Already, another explosive rumble sounded beneath their feet, on another floor. Billy quickly found the piece he was looking for, and pocketed it before yanking Steve in the direction of the stairs.

"I need a car."

"You know where the garage is."

"You're coming with me. That thing heard both of our names."

Steve defended, "We both lost our original identities when we signed up for this bullshit."

"We don't know what we're dealing with yet," Billy reasoned. "Until then, you're safest with me."

"Well that's pathetic." His words might've landed better if they didn't rattle out of him while they did their best to sprint down several dozen flights of stairs.

"You're really sassing me right now? What are you gonna do with that bat?"

Steve ignored that to proclaim, "We need to get to my place. I have a backup computer connected to the system."

"And how do we know it's not compromised too?"

"Because it's mine. Not the system's."

Billy could only frown at him ever so briefly, but he pocketed that information away for another time. For now, they descended into the belly of their organization, where the garage of vehicles rested beneath the city. There, another argument awaited him.

"You're not taking the goddamn Camaro."

"I'm taking the goddamn Camaro," Billy retorted, already ripping the keys out of the cabinet Steve unlocked for him.

"It's loud as all hell!"

"So are you. Get in the car."

Another explosion shook the concrete columns of the garage. Steve ducked his head and coughed on the dust while he threw himself into the car a millisecond before Billy left tire tracks on the floor. "What are you doing?"

Steve was pressing buttons on the dash. Somewhere behind them, a mechanical part was moving in the car. "We don't know how many birds infiltrated the building. I'm rotating the license plates - egh!"

He collapsed against his seat when the car angled up to speed onto the city streets. Billy mused, "And what can you do for speed trap cameras?" and held up a middle finger to the camera angled over the four-way intersection.

"Nothing yet. We'll have to trade cars eventually."

"Not soon enough."

"What?" Steve all but screeched, and turned around to see behind them. "At least you're not the only stereotype in this business."

He got the words out a moment before the large, black SUV rammed into the back of the Camaro. "Put your seatbelt on."

"IT IS ON!"

Steve provided his own chorus of swears and exclamations while Billy navigated through the city, tossing his partner left and right in his seat, avoiding another collision with the SUV that would spin them out of control. When Steve began digging through the glove box and lowering his window, Billy bellowed, "What are you doing?"

"A PEN!" he yelled before throwing something behind them. A second later, the SUV's front lifted off the road so the whole thing fell onto its side.

It was Billy's turn to exclaim, "Those things explode?"

"YES THEY EXPLODE!"

"YOU NEVER TOLD ME THEY EXPLODE!"

"WHY DO YOU THINK I TOLD YOU NOT TO TAP THE PEN THREE TIMES?"

"YOU ARE SO GODDAMN LUCKY MY DICK HASN'T BEEN BLOWN OFF."

Steve pointed out the front windshield. "BILLY!"

Another SUV narrowly rammed them from the side, but Billy pulled on the brake and swung the car into a 180. Some civilian took the brunt of that particular attack, but Billy officially needed to get them the hell out of here. Whoever wanted their heads for trophies didn't care about national news.

Which was possibly the most dangerous piece of this mess. Arguably the most powerful component of a country was its press, and these assholes didn't care if they earned the media's or internet's attention.

It was another aspect in itself that Billy had ridden in one too many black SUV's. That would also account for someone's ability to install too many explosive birds in the building.

"Billy?" Steve piped when he drove down the stairs leading to the boardwalk along the river. Billy focused on the new car behind them. He looked across the river at the opposite riverbank, where the walls sloped up. He needed to get over there.

The car rattled as he sped up a flight of stairs to the street once more, but did a hard left onto the bridge that crossed the river.

Down the stairs again, this time slaloming over the ramped wall, keeping an eye on his rearview to see how tunnel-visioned the SUV behaved.

A hand gripped the wide bell of his forearm. "Billy," Steve rasped. There wasn't a stairwell at the end of this riverbank. Just a concrete wall.

Billy went up the ramp, and braked with a hard turn on the steering wheel. The SUV tried to brake in time, but the Camaro clipped the back tire, and it spun right over the side into the river.

Billy k-turned back in the direction of the stairs. He drove seamlessly into the midday, traffic, turning on his windshield wipers against the heavy drizzle. He glanced at Steve, who had not let go of his arm. At a stoplight, Billy's other hand overlapped his, earning a pale, ghostly stare.

"We need to get to the subway. Then your place."

Despite his shock, Steve nodded and said, "Two blocks down."

Billy found the station, lodged their car in a back alley between a Polish restaurant and a laundromat, and circled the car to help Steve out. "I'm fine," he said even as his knees gave out and he hung between his arms on the car door and roof.

"I see that," Billy replied. He nestled in close to wrap an arm around Steve's softer waist. "Put your weight on me."

He did, and Billy kicked the door shut behind them. "Do you have a metro card?"

"Do I have a metro card?" Billy snorted on their way to the entrance.

"You can't jump the turnstiles."

"I'm not leaving a paper trail. I don't know if my cards are compromised too. That bird sat right over your desk, pretty boy. Someone wanted a real close eye on you. Maybe even kill you. We can try and figure out who else was under surveillance later."

They did not earn approving looks from vaulting the turnstiles, but they made it to the train, and then forty minutes or so later, Steve's apartment. By then, his color had returned to his face, and Billy couldn't help but tease, "Do you always bring colleagues home?"

Steve sighed and didn't grace that with a response. He unlocked his door, and Billy perused the living room and its bay window. The place was nice. White walls. Light wooded floors. Colorful dish ware. A bedroom off to the right with an unmade bed, and a dining room to the left with an array of folders and a laptop on it.

Billy placed the broken bird piece beside the laptop. "I don't know how much you can get out of this. But it's a start."

Steve maneuvered around him and sank into the chair. "Help yourself to the kitchen."

Billy did exactly that, and only found a few hints at the neurosis of a tech genius: Steve's pantry was entirely filled with bags of chips and hot sauce. His apartment also wielded the same characteristic Steve used at work: cleanliness. There wasn't so much as a lingering cereal dish in the sink.

Billy went about scrambling some eggs, frying up some bacon, and heating up a box of leftover diner hash browns. He poured a bottle of white and brought the dishes to the table. He set the glass of wine in view of the laptop. "For your nerves. Try to eat something."

"Thanks," Steve murmured. He didn't touch his food, but Billy sat opposite him and plunged his fork into his eggs.

After he cleaned his plate, he started tapping the back of the laptop screen, causing whatever Steve was reading to bounce. As if tossed out of a reverie, Steve inhaled sharply and took his glasses off to scrub his face. Naturally, Billy chuckled and plucked up the glasses to see how the other half lived...

"Steve."

"Hmm?" he mumbled from inside his hands.

"Explain to me why your glasses are asking for 004 authentication?"

His hands lowered so he could see Billy wearing his glasses and the nearly invisible screens layered inside the glass. The muscles of his jaw ticked as he reached across the table. Billy let him remove the glasses, but his stare did not waver until Steve relented, "I'm not 004 anymore."

Billy blinked, hard, as he absorbed that. "When were you an agent?"

Steve pushed his fork around his plate. "Right as you joined."

"Am I really going to have to pull your teeth for this? Because someone must know who you are, or were. Knows enough to keep an eye on you. How many other 00s are retired into office work?"

"My whole team," he heaved. Surrendered. "It all happened too fast. I was elevated to 00 status and just as quickly flunked out of it. Then they gave me you."

Steve exhaled as if there was a whole lot more there. Then he added, "Consider this a mentorship."

Billy huffed and relaxed against his chair. "So my guardian angel is the one keeping me from my promotion."

It took a second, but Steve processed that and lifted his head. "What?"

"You. I don't get to be a 00 until a 00 gives me the okay."

Something shy of a grimace flitted across Steve's features. "Maybe you'd be one, if you learned how to say thank you. You're not god. I've saved your ass at least twice without even being in the same country as you."

"You're a P.T.S.D. case with a laptop. That's all."

"And you're a gun with childhood trauma and abandonment issues. Welcome to the fucking club. We have special glasses."

He stabbed his hash browns and started eating. Billy crossed his arms and brooded in silence.

Abandonment issues, my ass, he mused, but could not help but watch the man opposite him eat. He'd never actually seen Steve eat. He'd certainly always been available whenever Hargrove called, regardless of timezone or courtesy of sleep.

It's hypocritical to call him an angel and treat him as disposable...after you hauled him around like precious luggage.

Billy didn't like that thought one bit.

This job wasn't actually a business. It was a lifestyle. One that didn't grant angels or precious items. And the same voice that called Steve, Angel, kept whispering in Billy's mind.

Compromised.

Something moved in his periphery and he had his gun out before he even thought twice. "What the hell is that?"

Steve, to his credit, hadn't flinched. "The cartoons refer to it as a pussy cat. She wants your bacon."

The fluffy ginger that had jumped onto the table stared Billy down until he relinquished his last piece of bacon. "Why am I not surprised that you have a cat?"

"Considering your reaction, I'd say you were petrified."

"Shut up, Steve."

"No guns on the table."

Billy groaned and set the device on the console table behind him. "Yes, dear."

It was going to be a long case.

[ecofinisher]

Lady Frost and the Fire King - A familiar partnership - Chap 31

Chapter 31 - Nostalgica

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31330631/chapters/83381065

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13886468/31/Lady-Frost-and-the-Fire-King-A-familiar-partnership

Ladybug and Cat Noir pursued the supervillain, which was escaping from the heroes and while on it, she used her wand to shot magic against the heroes, but they dodged it. During the run, the villain looked at the next crossroad to see a bus cross the road turning towards their direction and the villain used her wand to hit it with magic, turning it into a large carriage with four horses and a few passengers, which had been sitting in the bus before.

„Miss Baba Yaga, stop putting everyone back in the old times!“ Shouted Cat Noir making Ladybug confused.

„Who is that?“ Questioned Ladybug making Cat Noir shrug his shoulders.

„Wasn‘t she a witch or something?“

„Where should I know that,“ Answered Ladybug, then jumped above the carriage along with her partner to pursue the supervillain. „Has Rena Rouge been able to contact Fire King and Lady Frost?“

„I think she had,“ Answered Cat Noir, then pointed forward to see the villain aim all the light poles to turn them into lanterns with candle lights. „I almost got the witch,“ Commented Cat Noir making a cat jump to catch her, but she dodges him and uses her wand on Cat Noir‘s staff to turn it into a wooden staff. „Oh great!“ Complained Cat Noir getting up, then the villain grabbed his stuff trying to take it off Cat Noir.

„I‘m Nostalgica and you shouldn‘t be out here at this time you ruffians,“ Commented the woman, then took the staff away and slapped with its end on Cat Noir‘s butt making him yowl, followed by Ladybug stop in shock.

„Me-ouch!“

The villain dropped the stick and ran off, then Cat Noir picked up his staff while scratching his butt.

„That Lady is mean,“ Complained Cat Noir, then Ladybug placed her hand on his shoulder.

„Don‘t worry, we will catch her,“ Commented Ladybug, then ran further along with the cat-themed superhero reaching the next crossroad and the two stopped to see the woman had turned left and turned back in the next crossroad. „Want to split or prefer to go together?“

„For now on I‘m good in going with you,“ Answered Cat Noir a little anxious making Ladybug chuckle.

„Don‘t worry, it won‘t happen again,“ Promised Ladybug.

„I know it will again. I can feel it tingling throughout my entire nervous system,“

„I didn‘t expect you to have a neurotic side,“ Commented Ladybug departing along with her partner.

„This reminded me of a movie about slaves I watched a while ago,“ Commented Cat Noir. „The pain really is incredible,“

„I believe you…...hey in case you have to protect me, you…..uh…..,“

„Will have to protect you from that lady?“ Questioned Cat Noir, then nodded at the girl. „Don‘t worry, I‘ll do it anyway,“

„When Fire King and Co. arrive you won‘t be alone there,“ Stated Ladybug, then spotted a woman and a teenager watching the villain disappear in the next corner, which was noticed by the superhero duo. Ladybug whistled to call the family‘s attention and stopped along with Cat Noir.

„Good evening ladies and gentlemen. I have to ask you two to hide inside the house until we take care of this situation,“ Warned Ladybug, then the man grabbed Ladybug on her arms, surprising her.

„Ladybug, this akuma villain there is my mother,“ Commented the woman. „The retirement home called and explained, what was up,“

„Why was she akumatized?“ Questioned the superheroine.

„They don‘t know it. They just saw something was wrong when she already was akumatized and turned several devices into something else,“

„Maman, last time I was with grandma at the home, she complained about how I was using my tablet to do my homework,“ Commented the redheaded boy, which Ladybug had recognized as Nathaniel Kurtzberg. „I didn‘t know she would get akumatized today,“

„Don‘t worry Mrs. And Mr. Kurtzberg. We‘ve got this, we will bring her back safe and sound,“ Stated Ladybug. „I promise,“ Ladybug added looking at Nathaniel, which nodded with shiny eyes and Cat Noir moved his head signaling Ladybug to move further.

During the run, Cat Noir looked back at the Jewish family and back at the superheroine.

„What is Nathaniel‘s grandma doing in a retirement home?“ Questioned the blonde.

„I think because of health problems she was moved into the retirement home. I‘m not sure of her age though,“

„Good question,“ Commented Cat Noir, then they spotted at the next corner a horse running out of control against the two superheroes and Ladybug used her yo-yo to grab Cat Noir and swung up at the roof to dodge the horse.

„That was a wild ride,“ Commented Cat Noir making Ladybug nod.

„More like a close call,“ Corrected Ladybug, then she heard one honking noise and moved further to the end of the roof to look around. „Cat, you‘ve gotta see this,“ Ladybug ordered, therefore the blonde ran to the girl to look above the roof and spotted an ice-made locomotive coming towards their way. Ladybug squinted her eyes and smiled as she recognized Lady Frost and Fire King in it.

„Lady Frost is starting to grow out of her miraculous. That‘s amazing,“ Ladybug said, then Cat Noir jumped down and waited for the ride. Ladybug shook her head as the blonde held up his thumb, seeing the train slow down, after that the blue-haired heroine jumped down as well to see the locomotive stop in front of the black-dressed hero.

„Lady Frost, did you build that all on your own?“ Questioned Cat Noir seeing the heroine nod. „That‘s amazing,“ Complimented Cat Noir making Fire King frown.

„I already told her that first,“ Commented Fire King annoyed making the two heroines giggle.

„Don‘t worry, compliments are meant to be platonic,“ Joked Ladybug, then Fire King moved to the exit to look at the experienced duo.

„Are you coming with us or….?“ Questioned the redhead watching Cat Noir hop at the nose of the locomotive, then got up on the head and Ladybug climbed on the stairs beside the vehicle holding herself.

„Alright, Lady Frost move on,“ Commanded Ladybug knocking on the ice-cold column of the locomotive and Lady Frost drove it slow to make a curve around to get at the bridge, then she accelerated the vehicle to cross fast the bridge getting closer to Nostalgica, which was passing by the Notre Dame again, then shrieked as she saw the train head towards her.

„Your silly locomotive can‘t stop me,“ Commented Nostalgica throwing a beam of magic against the train, then it got deflected and hit another light pole, which turned it into candlelight.

„Impossible!“ Hissed the woman, then disappeared right on the road beside the Notre Dame and Lady Frost flinched her teeth while turning the wheel of her train making it pass over the sidewalk and crash with the front into a building, then scratch the side of it on the house.

„Okay the sudden steering on the curves like this isn‘t meant for this locomotive,“ Commented Lady Frost looking at Fire King, which was scratching his head after hitting his head.

„Is everyone okay?“ Asked Ladybug getting up from the inside of the locomotive, then earned a nod from the duo. „I‘ll be going from up top.“ Mentioned Ladybug getting on top of the roof and Cat Noir got into the locomotive.

„Thank god, I jumped down before the impact,“ Commented Cat Noir. „I‘m surprised, it didn‘t break,“

„Me too, but what surprised me most was that it deflected the attack of the villain,“ Pointed Lady Frost out, then watched Fire King try to reverse the train back.

„That‘s enough King, now move forward,“ Ordered the blonde, moving the steering wheel while Fire King moved the lever back to forward and the locomotive began to drive further again.

„Thanks, will you continue to navigate me behind Nostalgica?“ Asked the silver-blonde heroine earning a nod from the friend, which focused on the villain, which turned around at the next crossroad.

„Slow down!“ Ordered Fire King.

„Make the curve from the outside,“ Ordered Cat Noir.

„What do you mean?“ Asked Lady Frost, then Fire King placed his hands on the wheel to pull it aside, afterward guided it smoothly into the next road and gave it back to Lady Frost.

„That was what I meant,“ Stated Cat Noir making the girl nod.

„Thanks, Fire King,“

„At your service,“ Responded Fire King, then shrieked along with Gerda's alter ego as they saw the villain turn left and the front was a wall, which blocked the road from the Seine. Lady Frost pulled the brake, followed by Fire King pull a full spin with the steering wheel making the front of the vehicle crash at the last building before the road and stop vertically aside the road.

Cat Noir looked behind the vehicle, then back at the fire-themed superhero.

„We‘re lucky the rear didn‘t get stuck there,“ Mentioned Cat Noir, then Lady Frost moved the train up at the road again, then went further and along with the redhead, she looked for the location of the supervillain.

„She‘s there on the Pont de Saint Louis!“ Warned Cat Noir making Lady Frost nod, which slowly steered the vehicle near the building, then across the next short curve both shrieked to encounter a few parked cars on the side of the road and a few empty horse carriages, then she closed her eyes, therefore the locomotive pushed the vehicles in front of it with its cowcatcher aside.

„Move back to the middle. This is slowing us down,“ Commented Fire King spinning the steering wheel, along with Lady Frost following the free road in the middle to the large crossroad, which was linked to the bridge leading to the next island.

„Good,“ Responded Lady Frost, then at the next buildings they saw Nostalgica aim at various chairs outside of a bistro, which turned into Mahagoni-made chairs with dark-red textile pillows. People began to run in various directions, few getting aimed by the supervillain, which changed their clothing into retro ones.

„I don‘t think we‘re going make it through the crowd,“ Mentioned Fire King, then Lady Frost pulled the honk several times warning the crowd, which got more panic and disastrous crashed against each other making it harder for the superheroes, then Lady Frost pulled the brake again to slow it down.

„Don‘t worry guys, Ladybug is still following the villain from above. Stay here, I will try to escort the people away from the road,“ Mentioned Cat Noir leaving the train to run towards the crowd.

„Come you can now slowly move on, Cat Noir is leading the crowd back into the place,“ Mentioned Fire King making the superheroine nod, which pushed the lever to drive it over the bridge closer to Cat Noir, which jumped from the sidewalk up at the nose of the locomotive.

„Oh no out there are more people sitting outside of coffee shops,“ Commented Lady Frost, then Fire King began to use the honk to warn the citizens. Cat Noir covered his ears from the noise, then observed at the street people sitting on the outside of the coffee and Cat Noir yelled to call their attention.

„Get into the shop!“ Shouted Cat Noir. „Get in! Get in!“

Fire King continued to use the honk, then took his hand off as the people had paid attention to them and ran back into the place to hide.

„Thank goodness,“ Stated Lady Frost, then watched the villain turn at the next corner and Lady Frost turned the steering wheel, crashing the front on the next building, then slowly returned to the road.

„I hate it, when she does that,“ Complained Fire King grabbing himself on the dashboard of the cabin.

„I‘m trying my best, King,“

„I meant Nostalgica,“ Pointed Fire King out. „I‘m sure she‘s trying to screw us up,“ Guessed Fire King, then pointed with his hand to see the villain take another curve into a slinker alley, making him groan. „See?“

„Take the other road, I will run behind her,“ Ordered Cat Noir feeling the train brake again, then Cat Noir got down of the locomotive to pursue the supervillain throughout the alley. He shoves his wooden stick into the hold behind his back and ran like a cat behind the villain, getting faster than her, then glanced up quickly at the roof to see Ladybug follow them as well.

A loud noise appeared above the sky and four fighter jets turned down heading towards Cat Noir and Nostalgica. Cat Noir widened his eyes in shock and jumped aside watching them pass, following the supervillain, which began to be attacked by its weapons.

„Oh my gosh!“ Cried Cat Noir surprised at the deed of the military.

Ladybug got down to Cat Noir to see him shocked, then placed her hand on his shoulder and whispered into his ear.

„That‘s just Rena Rouge,“ Stated Ladybug making Cat Noir smile. "They're not even in the size of the real ones,"

„Wow, it‘s pretty realistic,“ Commented the blonde hero, making Ladybug smile and the superheroine returned to follow the heroine. Cat Noir looked back to see the superheroes in the ice-train come along and he jumped into it.

„Good news, Rena Rouge is following her with an illusion. Maybe we will get lucky this time,“

„Hopefully,“ Answered Fire King, then Lady Frost drove the train further.

Moments later Nostalgica ran towards the Place des Vosges then jumped at the fence, crashing against it and fell down on her back and watched the jets fly towards her, then she moved her wand up watching one of the engines of the jets pass through her hand, causing a blinking at the illusion making the woman widen her eyes noticing it wasn‘t real.

„Those are illusions!“ Shouted the woman getting up, then look around for the superheroes and only saw Ladybug coming from the rooftops. The woman shot a magic beam against the superhero, which dodged it by swinging beside it with her yo-yo and tried to hit the woman with her feet but missed.

„Nostalgica, listen to me. Your daughter and your grandson are worried sick about you. Please don‘t let Hawk Moth take over you,“ Ladybug started, then the villain threw a magic beam against the superheroine, which jumped aside to miss the hit. „I‘m serious, I saw your grandson Nathaniel before. He was nearly about to cry. Don‘t let Hawk Moth use you against everyone here. None of us has anything against you,“

„I‘m at that age, where I wish I could do everything again like I used to. That time is over now and anything from this new generation is terrible. The new TV screens are too large and causes intense pain in my eyes, the technical progress is taking jobs and other tasks away from good people, that needed the job to make it through their life. How many times have I seen at the highway machines replacing workers to collect money to pass? The new shopping centers as well. Certain train stations you have now to buy tickets on the machines as well and how do you know exactly, that you‘re doing it right? It‘s the third time already I get fined for getting it wrong,“

„You‘re right, some really are sad to exist. But you see, life now isn‘t as easy as it was before. People now have less time for their friends and family because of work. More adults and immigrants live here in Paris and fill in stores, which should be left quickly for the next group. Some jobs were also facilitated for certain groups like car builders. The factory now has machines, that make the hardest parts while the builders then focus on the minor, but important parts. Or traffic lights are also a good invention. This is probably the best invention at this moment, cause many people would be going crazy during traffic jams if they had to follow the street guides,“

„This may be true, but there are far more bad things behind this technological progress. Students have it easier to learn and cheat on it. Others have it difficult to learn with it and get distracted. They even have modern calculators, while we back in our time we had a slide rule or a wooden one and couldn‘t even use it during exams while here you can. No wonder half of the kids from today barely know any mental arithmetic,“

„Nostalgica!“ Called Cat Noir appearing. „Remember the good ol‘ locomotives from the past?“ Questioned Cat Noir pointing at the ice-made locomotive, which was coming to their direction and Fire King climbed out of the window followed by the train stopping in the middle of the road in front of the entrance of the park.

Nostalgica shot a beam of magic against Ladybug, then Cat Noir jumped against her to avoid her getting hit and Fire King threw a small fireball at the villain, then ran towards her and made a roll on the ground as the villain threw a magic beam at the boy and he grabbed her on both arms trying to hold her tight preventing to use the wand.

„Quick! Take her wand!“ Ordered Fire King watching Ladybug throw her yo-yo catching the arm of the villain instead which smirked and took the distraction to head bump into Fire King‘s nose, making him whine.

„En serio?!“ Complained Fire King, then Ladybug pulled the boy away with her yo-yo narrowly having let the villain hit the boy with a magic spell.

„We need a plan,“ Stated Ladybug watching Fire King ran against Nostalgica to try to take her wand away, while she packed him on his chest to prevent him to take the wand.

„You‘re a badly educated boy. You deserve to be punished,“ Commented the villain and under her breast a red light shined at the boy and gave him an electronic shock, making him tingle and fall down on his back.

„Whoa, what was that?“ Asked Cat Noir watching Ladybug fish Fire King away from the situation, then helped him up.

„You‘re okay?“ Asked Ladybug watching Fire King shake his head from the shock, then ran with his hands on fire against the supervillain. „Fire King!“ Shouted Ladybug, then Lady Frost threw an ice blast against his friend causing him to slip and crash against the villain, which threw a magic beam against the road hitting a police car, that had just passed by and now it remained a horse along with a carriage and Roger Raincomprix sitting on it.

„Hey!“ Shouted Roger getting down of the carriage to enter the park, then looked up at the vehicle of Lady Frost. „Where are the papers of this vehicle?“ Asked the police stern.

„Uh I don‘t know,“ Responded Lady Frost looking at the heroes.

„Lady Frost! Why did you hit me?!“ Asked Fire King loud, then tripped over the ice followed by Nostalgica, which hit him on his stomach and got up, followed by stomping on him.

„You can‘t stop me,“ Commented the supervillain, then Roger noticed the supervillain and aimed his gun at her.

„Put your hands up, Nostalgica. You‘re standing on my area,“ Demanded the policeman, then Nostalgica used her magic to turn Roger‘s gun into a refilling gun, making him groan. Roger picked his walkie-talkie to call reinforces, but it was turned into a brick-like cellphone making Roger drop his chin.

„You gotta be kidding me,“ Complained Roger.

Nostalgica pointed her wand at Ladybug again, then Fire King up again, then embraced the woman from behind holding her right.

„Quick! Remove the wand!“ Ordered Fire King trying to hold her, then he was kicked between his legs and he stepped back holding his hands down. „No!“ Groaned the boy, then created with his one hand fire and defended himself from getting hit by the wand‘s magic. Fire King moved his hands to push her, but she stepped aside and Fire King moved further stepping over the villain‘s foot she had put out for him. Fire King growled, then shoot a fireball at her foot making her jump in the air, losing the wand.

Fire King smiled, then jumped up to grab the wand and showed it to the group.

„Break it!“ Ordered Cat Noir watching the villain turn around to attack Fire King, but she got pulled away by Ladybug and Fire King before using his fire, he fell down on his knees crying in pain, followed by his lava markings on his suit blink.

„What‘s going on?“ Asked Lady Frost standing on the outside of the locomotive. Ladybug observed the fire-themed superhero shorty, then shrieked as Nostalgica freed herself from the yo-yo and ran towards the Spaniard.

Cat Noir used his wooden staff to push the woman down, then picked Fire King up and ran away from the danger zone, afterward looked back to see Lady Frost make under Nostalgica‘s feet an ice ground to make her slip.

Cat Noir disappeared with Fire King behind a car, then Fire King destransformed himself back into his civilian self, then Cat Noir recognized Rollan‘s face.

„This is the third time I felt like this,“ Commented Rollan scratching his head, while Coal walked up at the owner. „Something is wrong with us, but I don‘t know what,“

„You had this issue more times before?“ Questioned Cat Noir curious. „Why are you still using this miraculous? Can‘t you talk with Ladybug about its issues?“

„I don‘t want to leave the team, just because I can‘t use my miraculous anymore,“

„You can tell her how you feel about it. She may borrow you another miraculous. Sure you or Lady Frost weren‘t planned to be in our team, but at the moment it is good, that we have more heroes working with us,“

„You think this will work?“ Questioned Rollan getting up, then heard Lady Frost cry as she flew against the locomotive. „Lady Frost!“

„Don‘t worry, Rena Rouge is around. She‘s gonna help us as well,“ Commented Cat Noir. „Just stay here and wait until we‘re done, okay?“ Asked Cat Noir placing his hand on Rollan‘s shoulder, which sighed and nodded. „And don‘t worry, your secret is save with me,“ Cat Noir said returning to the match, then Rollan glimpsed over a car to see Lady Frost create under Ladybug and Nostalgica‘s feet a small ice-path, then Ladybug pushed the villain against the locomotive and she lost her wand.

„Cataclysm!“ Shouted Cat Noir jumping against the wand to break it, then the akuma flew out of it.

„Good job!“ Complimented Ladybug heading to the akuma to catch it.

„Watch it!“ Shouted Lady Frost creating an ice wall to deflect the ray attacks coming from the chest of the woman.

„She must have an amok as well,“ Commented Cat Noir, then Ladybug threw up her yo-yo to reveal her mysterious object which was a car tire.

„A car tire?“ Asked Ladybug, then Cat Noir quickly pulled the tire over Ladybug to protect her from getting hit by one of Nostalgica‘s electronic shocks. „Oh!“ Ladybug commented, then she grabbed the tire and held it in front of her to deflect the next attacks.

„Lady Frost, Rena Rouge, take her from the sides,“ Warned Ladybug, then Lady Frost threw one ice-ray against the supervillain, which deflected it with her ray and someone whistled and it was Ladybug holding her tire on the ground and Cat Noir kicked with his feet on the tire to put her down.

„Well done,“ Complimented Rena Rouge running along with Lady Frost to the villain, then Lady Frost held her hand down against the woman while the fox-themed heroine pulled out of the woman‘s neck the necklace, then dropped it on the ground to break it with her feet to reveal the blue feather.

„Fist Bump, lady,“ Asked Rena Rouge holding out her fist at Lady Frost, which smiled, then both looked at Ladybug restoring everything back to normal, followed by the villain transforming back into an elderly lady, which was confused and startled.

„Mrs. Kurtzberg, are you alright?“ Asked Ladybug getting down to the woman to take a look at her.

„Where am I? What happened?“ Questioned the senior holding her hand in front of her.

„We will take you back home. Your daughter and your grandson were worried sick about you, as they were informed about your akumatization,“

„I was akumatized?“ Asked the woman in shock, then Ladybug moved her hands to calm the woman down.

„Everything went back to normal. You‘re now here with us,“ Said Ladybug, then several citizens appeared along with one journalist to witness the finished action by the superheroes.

„No interviews with me. This fox‘s gotta go home,“ Warned Rena Rouge getting out of the place leaving Cat Noir back with Ladybug and Lady Frost.

„Did you leave this locomotive here?“ Asked one citizen looking at Lady Frost while pointing at the train.

„Sure,“ Responded Lady Frost, then he took out his camera. „Can I take a picture of you and me in front of this? I want to send it to my grandfather. He loves locomotives,“

„Okay, why not?“ Asked Lady Frost taking the spot in front of the train along with the teenage boy.

Around Ladybug and the senior appeared the crowd and the journalist to interview here.

„Ladybug, Ladybug tell us! Was it really hard to defeat this villain or just like the same?“ Questioned the journalist.

„Sorry, I have to carry this woman back to her family,“ Stated Ladybug, then the woman looked at the journalist, which had eye contact with her.

„Madame, what have you done during the time as a villain? Could you remember anything? What exactly made you do that?“ Asked the journalist scaring the woman, which tried to get up, but fell down on her knees.

Ladybug got sad, then helped the woman up slowly and moved her further while the other citizens kept bothering.

„Come on, we have to go home,“ Warned Ladybug walking the woman along the Parc des Vosges to the end, where Roger Raincomprix stood checking his vehicle and saw the superheroine carrying the woman.

„Ladybug, shall I take her home?“ Questioned the agent watching the woman, which seemed to have a white face. „Is she alright?“

„I‘m not sure,“ Responded Ladybug looking at the face of the woman, which seemed to have no reaction and the senior stopped placing her hand in front of her chest, then dropped down on the ground shrieking Ladybug.

„Mrs. Kurtzberg!“ Shouted Ladybug, then Roger got down on his knees grabbing his walkie-talkie to make a call.

„Lieutnant Roger Raincomprix. I need immediately an ambulance. Senior around the 80s got unconscious…...I can‘t feel a heartbeat at the moment…….first aid will be performed…..roger, that,“ Ended Roger, then moved the woman's head uo, while Ladybug stood there in shock looking at the man about to perform CPR. „Just don‘t stand there, help!“ Shouted the policeman making Ladybug gulp, then Lady Frost appeared along with Cat Noir, which saw what was up. The viewers appeared as well, then the journalist ordered the cameraman to turn the camera off and observed the police at the work.

„I need someone to close the space around us and someone to do the chest compression,“ Ordered Roger, then Cat Noir got down to help him and Ladybug remained in shock, while Lady Frost looked around to see, what the agent meant and moved at the road to stay aside, followed by two teens to form a barrier to prevent people to drive into their line.

Rollan got out slowly from the car to see, what was going on and got closer to the scene. One of the citizens waved at Rollan, then ran towards the boy.

„Are you able to perform CPR?“ Questioned the man making Rollan shake his head. „Please go home or block the road along with the others,“

„Okay,“ Commented Rollan racing at the end of the road to stay three persons away from Lady Frost, which was looking at Ladybug, which had frozen at looking the two males trying to bring the senior back to life.

[preciousthingsareprecious]

Finding Us Chapter 21

Alright! Here I am at last with another Tim chapter! I hope you guys enjoy it. 

AO3 Link

~

Tim couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling up in his chest at the idea of progress in the stalker case. It fueled his desire to keep moving in other directions, while he waited on Damian to finish his sketch he dove back into work on the Alkali case.

Currently, he was trying once again not to backseat hack as Barbara was finally digging through the Alkali’s files. After their trip to the physical location, Babs had used the access gained through Stephanie to create her own back door and they’d sat on that for a little while to make sure no one found it.

It was early the morning after Damian’s encounter with the creepy man and Tim was in the belfry standing over Barbara’s shoulder because there was nothing to currently do on the stalker case. Tim hadn’t recognized Damian’s sketch of the guy he’d seen, and so they were waiting on facial recognition to grab his identity. The kid’s sketch was definitely good enough for the system to pick something up, they just had to wait.

“Have you found anything interesting yet?” he asked, trying not to bounce on his toes.

“Lots. Nothing we’re looking for. Though, there is a guy here who’s last name is Bandersnatch, which is pretty cool.”

She was teasing, but Tim could also hear the note of warning in her voice. When she found what they were looking for she’d tell him, and he shouldn’t keep pushing. He sighed, and turned to step across the room, over to a mini fridge installed for snacks.

“Want a soda?” he called.

She shook her head, “It’s too early for that, toss me a tea.” she answered.

He grabbed a bottle of tea out for Babs and a can of orange soda for himself and moved back over to the computer.

“Thanks for helping on this.” he said, handing her the tea, then cracking open his soda.

“Of course, the sooner we get these guys the better.”

Tim agreed, and sipped at his soda while he played a matching game on his phone in an attempt to both distract and stop himself from tossing advice Barbara’s way. He got stuck on a particularly difficult level and found himself totally lost in it for a while, trying again and again to win. It made the waiting a lot easier, even if he also kind of wanted to toss his phone out the window and watch it crash at the bottom of the building.  

“Got something.” Babs said at last.

Tim looked up bleary eyed, blinking away red diamonds and orange squares. It took his brain a moment to register what she’d said before he stood up, the chair shaking.

“Great!” he hurried over to look at the screen again, “What’d you find?”

“Well, under the private files I found some that were locked with a password, after cracking that I found these.”

The file she’d opened was filled with unreadable text.

“It’s encrypted?” Tim asked.

“I think it’s some kind of cypher. See it follows a sort of pattern. Nothing too overt or easy like a caesar cipher. It’s got to have a key.”

Tim hummed, she was right, the text was filled with letters and numbers and broken up in a way that looked like lines of real text, if they’d been in any kind of legible order.

“Well then we’d better get to cracking it.”

They worked for a couple hours trying to figure out what cypher had been used, and testing various codes to no avail. Eventually they decided to give it some time to breathe, and their brains time to think of new ideas. Babs forwarded him the files so he could keep looking over them later and Tim left her to work on other projects.

As he was leaving, he found Cassandra waiting for him down at the base of the Belfry. She was eating a cinnamon roll like it was a doughnut.

“Hey.” she said, handing him a cup of coffee, and shaking her wrist and the plastic bag hanging off it.

Tim took the offered cup, then tugged the bag off her free hand checking inside. A second cinnamon roll sat tucked into a nest of napkins. He fished it out, careful not to spill his drink then copied Cass, taking a huge bite out of the side.

It was still warm, and the taste of cinnamon and sugar danced across his tongue in a way that made him think of home. Of early Saturday mornings with Alfred, stirring together a bowl of butter, sugar, and cinnamon so the man could carefully spread it across dough. Or of Bruce dropping off a few in his room, ruffling his hair, and telling him he should probably finish his homework before working on another case.

“Ready to head back?” she asked.

He washed down the bite of bread with some coffee and nodded, “Yeah, I think Babs and I have done all we can. How’re things back at the manor?”

Cass shrugged, “Everyone is still waiting on the results of the search, so they all split up to work on other things.”

They moved to the car Cass had brought to pick him up in, it was one of Bruce's many cars, black and not too fancy. Tim held a hand out for the keys and after an eye roll Cass dropped them in his palm.

“I drove here.” she argued.

“You drive too fast for me and my coffee.” he replied.

“Fair.” she shrugged.

As Tim pulled away from the clocktower, still munching on his cinnamon roll Cass pipped back up.

“Can we stop at the craft store?”

He glanced at her, “Sure, but why?”

“Damian wanted some more colored pencils. He sent a list and asked me to stop if I had time.” She tugged a crumpled piece of paper out of her pocket and opened it to show him.

A detailed list of colors, brands, and what not to buy’s filled the page in Damian’s neat, tight, handwriting. Tim was surprised to find a little picture of a dog at the bottom of the page, it wasn’t as detailed as Damian usually did, and smiling for some reason.

“He drew it as a thank you, and promised to make me a better one with the pencils.” Cass said, catching where Tim’s eye had fallen, then she added, “Eyes on the road.”

Tim flicked the turn signal on the car to indicate he needed to go left, towards the craft store Damian frequented, “Why didn’t he come if he wanted to restock?”

Cass shrugged again, and folded the paper instead of crumpling it back up. She set it in her lap, fingers tapping on the paper with gentle tip taps.

Damian rarely missed a chance to get his own art supplies. He was as picky about them as Tim was over film or lenses for his cameras. Sure it was just a few replacement pencils, but even those Tim knew Damian would linger over for an hour if he was left to it. He wondered briefly if his mild concussion had anything to do with staying home. Maybe Alfred had told him he couldn’t leave? But no, it had been days at this point, he was probably cleared at last for most activities.

Maybe it was because he knew Cass was headed to pick up Tim.

He tried not to think too hard on that thought. They hadn’t really talked much lately. Both had been busy with their own things, and besides that, they didn’t really talk a lot to begin with. He’d thought they were doing better, but at the same time Tim knew they weren’t.

Tim reached out to snatch his coffee and take a sip from it. Now that he thought about it, maybe they were doing better after all. Damian had called him by his first name the night before. And he’d gone looking for clues as to Tim’s stalker. A queasy feeling bubbled up in Tim’s stomach. He’d been quick to dismiss Damian’s attempted apology back when they’d been at the mall, and now he was starting to wonder if he'd been really trying to mend that bridge. T im loved the idea of having a little brother, and way back when he'd first met Damian he'd been happy to have one, for all of two seconds. Still, sometimes he thought they had found that perfect spot of being siblings, and other times it felt like there was a gaping hole between them. Especially lately.

He pulled into the store’s parking lot not even realizing they’d made it there, his body on autopilot. Cass cheered as she climbed out of the car, and Tim stayed quiet.

When he looked up at the storefront he figured it out.

He might be jealous. Of the squirt.

Maybe it wasn't their past that was bothering him so much lately, but their present. Tim thought he'd shaken off those feelings in regards to Jason and Damian, but maybe he hadn't. Even in the wake of the family’s eyes turning on him Tim still couldn’t stop thinking about how Damian seemed to draw everyone in all the time. Dick, then Jason, Bruce with his fretting after they’d gotten hurt. It was--it was like he fit in a way Tim couldn’t quite imagine himself fitting again.  Like they were both the same piece, and there was only one spot left on the puzzle, and Damian had swooped in just in time to fill it. Even now, he felt odd about the attention. Like the moment everything was done his family would stop looking at him again. Stop seeing Tim, because he’d messed up. He’d failed to be the one to fix everything and he no longer deserved to be seen.

“Tim?”

“Coming!” he said, locking the car door.

Inside he was hit with the smell of paint and paper. The whole place was a kaleidoscope of colors and supplies crammed together in a space that should have felt cluttered, but instead actually seemed homely. He followed Cass to the pencils and held each as she selected them, reading Damian’s list carefully, then making Tim double check “ just in case” .

He thought they’d be in and out, but once they’d found Damian’s stuff Cass insisted on browsing. Tim followed her, feeling a bit like Titus pattering after Damian as he instructed the dog on something very un-dog-like and soon his arms were full.

Cass had added extra packs of less high quality colored pencils, crayons, thin markers --not thick, because apparently those didn’t trace well-- and made him pick out a coloring book. She selected one full of animals, and Tim picked one that was more abstract. Like black and white stained glass. He and Cass locked eyes on an adult swear word coloring book and both grinned.

“For Jason?” Tim asked.

“And one for Dick.” Cass grinned.

Soon they’d selected adult coloring books for the whole family. Some simply because they knew they’d get a laugh out of them, and others from the knowledge of the recipient getting genuine delight from it.

By the time they left, Tim was feeling better. His day brightened even more when Cass hooked an arm through his at home, and dragged him into the living room.

“We are going to color and watch She-Ra.” she declared.

He could have argued and said he had work to do. But he knew Cass would tell him a break was good. And wasn’t that what he’d just told Babs? He could have fallen into other cases or dug out his 3Ds to play some Animal Crossing. But the best idea in the whole world right then was sitting on the floor and coloring with his sister, and he wasn’t going to pass it up.

He filled in two whole pages, first lined with marker --Cass had been right about the thin ones-- then colored in as dark as he could with his own box of colored pencils. At some point the sounds of She-Ra had been turned down as he and Cass chatted about everything.

She told stories of an adventure with Steph. He talked about Mindbender and how weird it was to have Jason in the house again. Then about how cool it was to have Jason in the house. Cass told him about a ballet she’d seen. All of it, whether it was little nothings or big changes, ebbed and flowed to the scritch scritch of pencil on paper, and legs folded up or kicked into the air.

At some point, Alfred brought in cocoa and water. Then sandwiches. Dick breezed through and gasped over his book, stopping to color in all of an F before getting bored and breezing back out. Jason cackled over his book, and then genuinely thanked them for thinking of him. Damian collected his pencils, didn’t complain about a single one, and stared at his own book of animals to color like it was made of gold before tucking it under an arm and scurrying away.

Bruce stayed the longest, lounging on a couch to add his own commentary between theirs, infrequent, but enough to say “I’m here, I’m listening, I love you.” before he too was called away. He planted a kiss on each of their heads before leaving.

It was Stephanie who broke up the peace. Showing up like a tornado, and stirring them from settled spaces into laughter. They traded pencils for controllers and fired up Smash Brothers for a wholly different, but still perfect, adventure.

There, surrounded in waves by his family Tim wondered if he’d been wrong earlier. If maybe the puzzle had room for all of them. And every time someone new came in, it just expanded and made room for them. He certainly felt like he fit in, and it was really nice.

[strawberrysoup]

Watch the Turn

relationship: Steve Rogers/reader/Tony Stark rating: Explicit warnings: Dark Steve Rogers, Dark Tony Stark, kidnapping, non-con. detailed warnings will be included at the end of the fic, open the read more, CTRL + F and search “content warnings”. word count: 6,000 give or take

Written for @honeyhan-123’s holiday challenge.

 You didn't like driving at night to begin with, let alone when the roads were slick and the weather was rotten and every idiot had their high beams on— as if the light did anything except reflect off the fog and make it impossible to see. The road being unfamiliar didn't help, you hadn't driven this route before, hadn't even planned to but Tony had Politely Requested your presence at the training facility. Wanda was still mad at him 90% of the time, not that you blamed her, and he wanted you there as a buffer while she came in for her standard yearly medical tests. You had refused such testing, your "doctor" was sufficient thank you very much, and you didn't want your DNA in Tony's hands (he had the best intentions at all times, but the best intentions didn't mean anything in your world— not when your blood was wonky and weird and potentially useful). 

Everyone had mostly forgiven Tony, except for you and Wanda. You both remembered the specialized straight jacket Wanda had been forced into, the fucking shock collars they'd put you both in. There was a phantom ache in your neck when you thought about it and a worse one in your heart when you remembered The Look Tony had given you. Something simultaneously upset but pleased. You hadn't necessarily trusted him since, especially when he put up such a stink when you left the Avengers. Sure, you were on call somewhat— In Case Of Emergency Contact the Flammable One. It worked in a pinch and mostly it meant you got left the fuck alone, which was a dream come true. Tony and Steve were exceptions to the rule; they bothered you on a regular fucking basis. Tony was at least more subtle than Steve, a result of him understanding he'd burned a bridge. Steve didn't get why you refused to stay on as an Avenger after it all. We fixed it, it's over, Tony and I made up so why can't you? And it bothered you in a very special way, that the super soldier wouldn't let it go. 

You'd begun screening their calls months ago, only responding to messages that were State Of Emergency relevant. Or, of course, Wanda relevant. You'd become good friends with the witch after the Ultron incident, both of you two shades of dangerous beyond the rest of the team. You were surprised she hadn't called you herself, but Wanda had a tendency to be independent like that. Even if your presence would make her more comfortable, there was only a 50/50 chance she'd ask. 

The road to the facility was steadily getting worse though and it quickly became apparent that the majority of those driving in had some sort of sight enhancement, or so you assumed. There were no fucking lights and you were forced to slow dramatically as you drove between the trees. Fucking Tony, couldn't be fucked to add some stupid lights around the blind turns in the road. 

Your nerves were flared and it took a lot to keep your powers from getting to your hands, you'd destroyed plenty of things but steering wheels were particularly irritating to replace. You focused on breathing, leaning forward over the wheel and squinting out the windshield. Of course it was a last minute call, of course you had to drive on a new road in the dark, of course the snow had to start earlier than forecasted, of course. 

It was one particularly sharp, icy curve that took out your wheels. Your car's system immediately devoted its power to the wheels not spinning out but found no traction, the vehicle instead careening off the road and into the trees. There was a split second to hope that your body's defense system of burn through any and all obstacles didn't cause a forest fire before your head smashed into (and possibly seared through) the steering wheel, effectively knocking you unconscious. Your clothes quickly combusted, minus the Pym tech shorts and sports bra thoughtfully made by Hope, followed by the seat of the car and soon the rest of the vehicle. 

"Oh sweetheart," the words were barely distinguishable over the sound of some sort of fire extinguisher, likely one of Tony's suits but it didn't sound like he was in it, "Steve, bring a blanket out of the back." 

"Catch," it was definitely the blond's voice, but there was a metallic sound rather than that of fabric being thrown, "I'll grab an emergency blanket out of the back."

"Tony..?" It sounded like you were trying to speak under water, your voice muffled. 

"Yeah honey, we've got you," for some reason you expected him to pick you up and pull you out of the smoking husk of the car, but instead you felt his hands near your neck, "stay still." 

You couldn't get the words out to explain that your neck was fine, you didn't need a brace, but you felt metal and there was the sound of a clasp, a metallic whir and your blood ran cold. It was a painfully familiar sensation, you'd experienced it once before— on the Raft.

The collar caused all sorts of effects; your above average strength was quickly sapped, your body temperature drastically lowered, and the inherently combustible crackle of energy that coated your skin turned to ice. Your muscles, already weak from the crash, went entirely lax even as arms slipped under you and lifted your body from the car. 

“Damn, you really did a number on yourself, huh sweetheart?” Tony’s voice came from the left, a saccharine quality to the tone. 

“Don’t taunt her Tony,” Steve’s chest rumbled against you and you realized the familiar scent was the Captain, “let’s go.” 

Everything blended and skewed, your perception going in and out. It was confusing and nauseating, you might’ve thrown up but couldn’t be sure—was it from the crash, the results of a concussion? Or the collar? 

You only started gaining some semblance of control when a blast of cold air hit you and it was only enough to allow you to open your eyes. Steve was carrying you out of a vehicle and into a building, but not the compound. It was too small, the door had an old fashioned lock and Tony used an actual key. 

“The heater on in here Tone? She’s cold, the collar doesn’t let her body temperature regulate well.”

“No, this building doesn’t have FRIDAY’s tech installed. We’ll grab some blankets, there’s a fire place in there until the heating system kicks on.”

“Are you sure you know how to survive without FRIDAY?” Steve’s words were teasing but not mean the way you would’ve expected, there was no derisive undertone like there would’ve been in the past. 

“Ha ha, Capsickle,” even Tony’s response lacked teeth, just a mildly fond lilt, “get her in here, we’ll get her warmed up quick.” 

“I’ve got some ideas,” it was muttered by the soldier but Tony hummed in agreement nonetheless. 

It was cold, so much colder than you were used to. Your body generally didn’t allow you to feel any sort of chill, let alone the bone deep cold that came from being outside and underdressed in the snow and ice. Had you an agency you might’ve pressed closer to Steve, despite it all. Then again, even through the chill you remembered that Steve had let Tony put that collar on you, for some reason the soldier was enabling this. 

“Bring her this way, and get those Pym tech clothes off of her.”

“Sure Tony,” somehow Steve responded to the orders with fondness and patience. 

Maybe it wasn’t Steve. Maybe it was a clone or maybe Tony had brainwashed him. Maybe—

“Tony, don’t put the keys there or you’ll misplace them again,” there was a scoff from the brunet and Steve’s chest rumbled beneath you, “you know I’m right.” 

The sound of keys jingling followed and the confusion got worse. Because that was definitely Steve and definitely Tony but they weren’t bickering. There was no irritation or frustration in their voices, you’d almost call it… fondness? Affection, even. But that wasn’t possible. Even before the Accords Steve and Tony had done nothing but bicker and argue and pick at every little thing they knew would upset the other. 

You didn’t have much time to think about it before Steve grabbed your sports bra with one hand and ripped it all the way down. The noise you made was met with a gentle shushing, indiscernible words following when you tried to move away. Your shorts were quick to follow, the non combustible fabric giving way under the soldiers grasp. There was no need for them to undress you, no need for them to take you to some random building, there was no reason for you to have driven to the facility, was there? 

“Steve?” Your voice was barely a murmur, your muscles just beginning to twitch after the effects of the collar.

“It’s okay, y/n,” he responded gently, curling your cold, naked body closer to his chest, “everything’s okay, we’re gonna get you warm here in just a second.” 

“There are blankets in the coffee table, Steve, just lift the top,” Tony was in another room, his voice far away, “take your clothes off and curl up on the couch with her—body heat and all that, right?” 

Steve held you tightly through the next few seconds, his form smoothly going through the requested motions. His skin was so warm against yours, almost searing like a brand. You tried to shift away when he wrapped your legs around his waist, his hard length uncomfortably close to your center, but were once again quietly hushed as he came to sit back on the couch. 

“Steve, catch,” you didn’t see what was tossed, only the sound of it hitting Steve’s palm while the other hand pressed your limp form close to his chest, “you get started while I get the fire going.” 

There was a snapping sound, your brain couldn’t fully identify it. What your brain did very quickly identify was Steve’s hand at your center, burning hot and coated in something wet and slippery. You wanted to scream but the sound that came out was just a gasp, barely a whimper that got lost against his skin.

“Shhh, sweetheart, you need this,” Steve cooed, slick fingers pressing up into your channel, his nose brushing up the line of your neck where you laid against his chest, your head rested against the curve of his shoulder, “you’re gonna need all the help you can get.” 

“Not too much Steve, she’s being punished,” Tony appeared with an armful of firewood and your instinct was to reach for him, to reach for your former friend, to reach for help but he wouldn’t help and you knew it, “for running away and trying to ignore us.” 

“W..what…” 

“You know you did, y/n,” Tony’s voice was gentle but admonishing, “you quit the Avengers and started ignoring our calls. Bad etiquette, sweetheart.” 

You wanted to ask if they were fucking serious, to ask what part of your behavior they had any right to dictate. You’d left because the pair of them had been a fucking nightmare. The leadership had been unbearable and you were the kind of person who chafed under authority, especially when those in power made what you considered dumbass decisions. You had even warned them, several times, that you wouldn’t put up with it. You know what you did. The second the collar came off you'd—

“Stay still sweetheart,” Steve murmured in your ear, feeling the way the muscles in your thighs jumped against his waist, “don’t worry, I’m gonna open your pussy up a bit more than Tony wants—you’d think he’d have more sympathy, considering how many times I’ve split him open without enough lube.” 

“What’s that, Stevie? Got something to say?” Tony didn’t turn around from where he knelt in front of the fireplace. 

“Just that I appreciate how tight your asshole is when I take you raw, Tone,” the blond's fingers spread wide in your cunt and you whined, muscles trembling as you attempted to gain any traction, “maybe once I stretch y/n out on my cock you can take a ride.” 

“Speaking of stretching her out,” Tony finally turned his head and pinned Steve with a knowing look, “I think you’ve done enough.” 

“Looks like he caught me, sweetheart,” Steve’s fingers slipped from your pussy with an obscene squelch and he wiped his hand on the upholstery before taking hold of your hip, “try taking deep breaths.” 

“Steve, don’t… I haven’t…” you choked as the head of his cock pressed up, “Don’t..!” 

“We know it’s been awhile, sweetheart,” Tony stood up and came to stand to the side of where Steve held you in his lap, hands coming to rest on your shoulders, “that’s why Steve’s monster cock is part of your punishment.” 

It was a monster cock. It had been a running joke since the initial Loki incident, the way Steve’s pants could never hide the indecent bulge. At first he’d gotten an angry blush across his face every time someone mentioned it and you had been one of the worst about teasing him. It had taken a couple of years before he joked back—I’ve never had a complaint, that’s why my dames gotta be flexible, etc. Steve’s package spoke for itself but if it needed commentary, the bow legged walk of any lady he fucked generally did it. 

Honestly, it was big enough that even with the wet slide from the lube and Steve carefully releasing his grasp on your waist, only the very top of the tapered head slipped in. But then Tony’s hands slid down from your shoulders, to where Steve’s balanced you on the head of his cock, and pressed you down. The initial pop of the head forcing its way through the tight hole of your cunt was almost so shocking you didn’t feel the pain, but then it just kept coming. A hoarse cry of shock and pain escaped your lips, the useless muscles in your legs trembling and attempting to lock you in place even as Tony continued to force you down over the impossible length of Steve’s cock. 

“It hurts, huh sweetheart?” The brunet whispered quietly, his lips brushing the shell of your ear from behind, “it hurt when you cut us off, you know? When you stopped answering our calls? When you disappeared off the face of the planet and tried to run away from us.” 

“P-Please, please, stop!” Your sobs were quiet despite the pain, your body not currently strong enough under the initial onslaught of the collar’s abilities to even cry properly, “please, it hurts so much, please..” 

The stretch was agonizing, especially considering you hadn’t had sex in a hot minute. You’d been busy, finding someone worthy of fucking was difficult, and who had the time anyway? But you could feel his cock, still more and more pressing brutally into your poor cunt, it felt like it was in your stomach, the pressure was unbearable—another choked cry escaped your mouth, tears pouring from your eyes. 

Steve gave a low moan, hands tightening on your hips, “God you’re so tight, fuck its amazing.” 

“You gonna be able to fuck her babe?” Tony’s face was still pressed close to yours, “without tearing anything delicate down there.” 

“Let me get all the way in,” the blond grunted slightly, “might need more lube to actually fuck her.” 

A clunking noise came from behind the couch and Tony made a noise of frustration, “once you get her on just let her keep your cock warm, I’m gonna go see why the heater’s making that sound.” 

A breathless hum was his only answer from Steve, the soldier still attempting to work the last inch or so of his cock up into your pussy. You whined, forehead against his shoulder and the head bumped against your cervix, effectively stopping Steve from pressing forward anymore. Your entire body was overly sensitized, every ounce of energy devoted to your nerves in the absence of muscular control and 100% of your attention was devoted to every vein and bump in his cock, the sheer pressure of it. 

"Shhh, it's okay sweetheart," Steve brushed his lips against whatever skin he could reach, his breath coming out in pants, "ohh fuck, wow. Cunts aren't meant to take cocks like mine—yours feels so good though baby. I can't imagine how it'll feel once you acclimate to the collar, I don't know if you'll be able to tighten your muscles around me—God, even with your muscles completely loose it's almost too tight." 

"Please, please, p-please, please…" 

"Begging's not really my thing sweetheart, but you'll get Tony ready real quick if you keep that up," the blond's words were teasing, edging on taunting. 

"T… Tony?" 

"Did you think I'd be the only one who fucked you? No baby, no. Although I don't think Tony's decided yet, if he wants to take your cunt or your asshole—have you ever had anything up your little ass before?" 

The heaviest sob you'd managed escaped your lips, forehead rolling against his shoulder until you faced away from him the best you could. It hurt when Steve shifted his weight, tugging you more firmly against his chest while his hands slipped into your hair. Your nerve endings sang as his fingers massaged against your scalp, managing just barely to draw some of your focus away from the pain in your center. 

"I'll take that as a no," he crooned, "don't worry, I'm gonna make sure he takes the time to stretch your asshole out well and he's gonna use plenty of lube." 

"That doesn't sound so much like a punishment as a reward, Cap," Tony stated as he reappeared from what must've been the boiler room. 

"You being up her ass while I'm in her pussy should be punishment enough for the whole running away debacle, Tones," the blond cooed when a short scream of pain and frustration escaped you, fingers running down your neck and back to rub circles into your skin, "she can keep my cock warm after I cum in her pussy and I'll keep her in place while you fuck her ass." 

"No, no! No please… I'm sorry! I'm s-sorry I ran off, I'm sorry!" 

"I'm sure you are sweetheart, but you're not gonna learn if you get off without being punished properly. We've gotta incentivize good behavior," Tony stripped his shirt off, followed by his jeans before coming to kneel behind her on the couch, his knees straddling Steve's outstretched legs, "the heat should be fine, the fire will keep us comfortable until the system warms up. Steve?" 

The blond pressed up with his hips and you screeched to the extent you were able, tapering off with a sob at the pain of his cock ramming your cervix, "lots more lube. Its gonna hurt real bad while we get your cunt all slick, baby, but you can scream as much as you need—no one can hear you out here." 

It was one of the most ominous things you'd ever heard in real life and was proven true very quickly. Steve withdrew just a tiny bit, the drag pulling a wail from your chest. You heard the lid of the lube pop open and felt Tony's hand sneak around your front, liberally coating the exposed length of Steve's cock. When he thrust back up into you it ripped another scream, the tiny bit of extra slide barely making a difference. It happened again and again, every time Steve withdrew Tony added more lube but the pain didn't stop. The drag was agony but the sheer girth of his cock was excruciating— not to mention the way he pounded away at your cervix like a battering ram.

Actually, that part was getting...easier, somehow. Each brutal press against it got less and less painful until your nerve endings started tingling, from the top of your head to your toes. It couldn't have been the start of an orgasm, they hadn't even touched your clit, but the constant pounding against your cervix was doing something. A choked moan escaped your lips, something the pair of them were very quick to catch. 

"He's real deep in there, isn't he sweetheart?" Tony asked softly, chest pressed up against your back while Steve continued to thrust up into your slowly loosening pussy, his hand coming to rest low over your uterus, "I can feel his cock pounding at your cervix. Is it gonna make you cum? Orgasms from cervical stimulation are supposed to be incredible, baby, do you want one of those? You might not have a choice, that monster cock is just pounding you, isn't it?" 

"N-no, no," your muscles still weren't really working, the tendons in your thighs jumped as you tried to get the right combination of muscles to pull your knees up under you for distance. 

"If she comes while being punished I don't know if I can let her go, Tony," Steve panted, thrusts picking up speed while his hands on your hips started pulling you down on his cock in tandem, "fuck, if she comes like this—" 

"You make her cum just from fucking her cunt like a battering ram and we'll keep her forever, Stevie," the words were like a promise from the brunet and Steve groaned like he was in pain, "yeah babe? You like that? You wanna keep her? Work for it Steve." 

His hips started moving like a jackhammer and you screamed with every ounce of strength you had, any bit of muscular integrity you had dissolving under the onslaught. Tony held you hips firmly in place, not allowing you body to bounce upwards with the thrusts and it was some kind of agony, an unexplainable combination of pain and too much pleasure, too much pleasure. Before you really could comprehend what was happening an explosive orgasm rocketed through your entire body, the muscles you had no control over seizing almost violently while you screamed. There was a gush of wetness as your vision blacked out—you might've gone unconscious for a moment but even when you came too again the system shocking pleasure was there, Steve still working for his own end. 

Tony was holding the majority of your body weight and had lifted you several inches higher, to prevent Steve from continuing to demolish your cervix. His arms were tight around you, his lips pressed against your ear. That was so good, sweetheart, take that cock, what a sweet pussy baby, come on now, he's so close.

Steve made a choked noise and suddenly his hands came up to cover Tony's, his superior strength overriding the brunet's hold and pulling you down on his cock. The head hammering against you once again made you scream, an almost heaving sob escaping you as the full body tingles you now knew to be the precursor of a severe orgasm came back with a startling intensity. 

"No! No, no, no, no!!" You were screaming, your voice absolutely hoarse. 

"Take it, y/n, be a good girl and take it," the words were an order, the husky tone in Tony's voice betraying the fact that he really did get off on the begging, "can you feel his abs tensing up? He's gonna cum." 

Tony was right and the sheer force of Steve cumming inside of you, jammed right up against your cervix sent you into another nearly painful orgasm, shaking your entire body to the core. There was no gush of wetness aside from Steve's cum being forced out of you from his brutal thrusts. 

It might've gone on forever, you honestly weren't sure how long your orgasm lasted—or Steve's for that matter. Everything felt damp and the pressure in your cunt had increased, sheerly from Steve's cum having no way to escape around his massive cock. 

"Jesus," the blond was gasping for breath, sounding like he'd ran a marathon which was particularly disconcerting considering his stamina. 

You personally were barely functional as a person, Tony having shifted your weight to once again rest on Steve's chest. There was a forearm under your butt, just barely keeping you from sinking fully onto the cock impaling you and you realized Steve must've had his wits about him better than you did; although you probably couldn't have kept yourself up anyway. 

"You gonna make it old timer?" Tony teased from over your shoulder, earning a snarky look from the soldier holding you, "you made her squirt all over the place, the couch is drenched." 

"My soul just left my body via my cock, Tony, gimme a second to breathe," the blond turned his face and pressed his lips against the side of your head, nose burrowing slightly into your hair, "your cunt is magic, sweetheart." 

"Let's find out if her ass is too." Your non reaction was probably more telling than had you started trying to fight, in all honesty you were so tired. Steve might've fucked his soul out but he'd effectively fucked the life right out of you and even as the cap on the lube popped again and probing fingers slid down the crack of your ass you barely reacted. 

"Hold on, lemme move," Steve clutched you tight and shifted until he was laying with his head on the arm rest, adjusting you down so your lower body stayed carefully aligned over his, his softening cock still firmly pressed inside of you. 

It was barely smaller as he went flaccid, still pressing so deep you thought you could feel it all the way in your stomach. The girth was still incredibly uncomfortable, stretching your abused cunt but the feeling of two fingers slipping into your asshole immediately distracted you. A small whine escaped, the sound almost lost against Steve's chest. Your brain immediately started a circle of thoughts, no, oh fuck, gross, oh no, not that, oh fuck. 

"You're alright baby," you weren't sure if Tony's words were meant to be comforting or if they were actually orders, "you're doing so good for us, keep Steve's cock up there, nice and cozy." 

The blond rumbled beneath you, shifting his hips and grabbing your thighs to pull them open wider over his waist. The softness of his cock meant the last inch had been able to press up inside you, the entire thing sheathed in your dripping cunt. The new cant of your hips tipped your ass up and Tony hummed. 

"Your asshole is really tight sweetheart, I don't know how much I'm gonna be able to spread you," the snap of the lube lid was immediately followed by Tony scissoring his fingers as wide as possible in your ass, "we'll try this and call it a day." 

You squealed and whined, especially when the top of the lube bottle pressed against your open hole. The plan wasn't entirely clear until you felt globs of lube squirting in your ass, Tony apparently emptying the entire tube inside of you. The fullness was uncomfortable, the liquid squishing all around inside and squeezing out when he let his fingers slip. He made some noise, you weren't sure if it was happy or not, before stretching his fingers wide apart again. 

"I'd take a deep breath, baby," the tip of his cock began pressing against the spread of your asshole and you felt a desperate bubble of sound travel up your throat, "remember you can scream as much as you need to, sweetheart. I kind of like to hear it." 

There was no hesitation as he pressed in, ignoring the screech of pain you let out as he powered the length of it in in a smooth glide. The burn was the same level of unbearable as when Steve's cock had entered you the first time and you managed to clench your hands against the blond's chest, nails scratching a bright red trail against his skin. 

"Stop!" You screeched, the muscles in your left thigh finally pulling taut at your orders and your knee found purchase on the couch, "f-fuck! Fuck stop!" 

"Your body's acclimating well," Steve grinned down at the top of your head, "I bet in a week or two you'll be able to walk around like nothin'." 

"Not considering how much you'll be fucking that pussy," Tony groaned loudly as he bottomed out, pelvis pressing firmly against your ass, "she's gonna be bow legged and walking like a baby giraffe. Jesus, I can feel your cock in there Steve—are you getting hard again?" 

Your eyes widened, the blond's hands running through your hair and keeping your head pinned against his chest, "probably." 

No, no, no, no, no, you couldn't handle that again, couldn't take that full length and girth again, not while Tony's not unsubstantial cock was tearing through your ass and you could still feel a particular tremble in your muscles from the two semi violent orgasms you'd had. You'd die, your body would give up. 

"She didn't like that at all," Tony laughed, laying a hard slap against your ass to make you screech while he stayed completely seated in your asshole, "what's wrong sweetheart, do you not want us to fuck you together? It's gonna get real tight in there."

"She doesn't exactly have a choice," Steve moaned loudly as Tony withdrew in one long pull, the sound drowned out by your scream of pain, "fuck that feels good, Tone." 

"Tight," Tony hissed as he forced his cock back in, the available space quickly being filled as Steve's cock began to harden in your pussy, "fuck that's good." 

"No, no, no! Stop, fuck, stop, oh God," sobs punctuated every word, the muscles in your arm trembling as you pressed the appendage back behind you, landing against Tony's abs in some desperate attempt for space, "it hurts, please, it hurts." 

"You're gonna be alright sweetheart," Steve grunted from above your head, a short moan escaping as Tony sawed in and out again, "it needs to hurt or you might try to run again. You're ours, y/n. We tried to give you space and you abused the privilege—shit, fuck Tony—so you don't get the option anymore. You're gonna remember this, huh?" Steve's hips shot up abruptly and you screamed yourself near hoarse, the head of his cock slamming brutally into you cervix just as Tony pulled back, painfully stretching the ring of muscle around your asshole, "you're gonna remember how much it hurts to take Tony up your asshole when you haven't been kept stretched out, how much my cock hurts in your little pussy when I don't fuck you regularly." 

"Please, please, please, stop, please—" 

"Fuck, keep begging sweetheart," Tony bottomed out in your ass when Steve withdrew to the tip, ignoring the wail the movement dragged from your lips, "that desperation, that's how we felt when you left. It hurt, y/n. We needed you and you left." 

The back and forth of their cocks was unbearable and you resigned yourself to sobbing against Steve's chest, one hand with nails digging into his skin while the other stayed out stretched behind you, pressed against Tony's lower abdomen. It did nothing, neither of them even noticed, and you screamed when Steve suddenly picked up the pace, shooting forward at the same time Tony pressed into your asshole. 

You weren't aware you had enough dexterity to thrash, maybe your body was just so desperate to escape the fucking agony that your muscles went nuts in response. Both men were quick to restrain your flailing limbs, cooing while you screeched but both still powering into you at the same time. The pain was unending, punctuated by the feeling of Steve bashing into your already over sensitized cervix. You were gonna cum again, you knew it was coming but the idea of other of those orgasms was both humiliating and frightening—too much, please no, too much, please no, too mu—

"Fuck, can we do this all the time?" Tony twisted his hips on the next thrust, drawing another cry from you even while Steve moaned in response, "I don't think I've been ready to cum so fast in ages, shit Steve your cock feels so good like this, her assholes so tight—" 

"Cum up her ass, Tony," Steve ordered sharply, his own thrusts getting harder as he tried to force as much of his cock into your cunt as possible, "she's about to cum, I can feel her pussy, she likes my cock hitting her cervix, don't you sweetheart?" 

"Damn, again?" Tony panted, his pelvis slapping against your ass so brutally you wondered if there would be bruises, "she's gonna cum again? We're gonna have to fuck her every day to keep her satisfied, jesus what a greedy pussy. I— I'm gonna cum, fuck what a sweet little asshole— fuck!" 

You could feel the cum shooting into your bowels, mixing with the copious amounts of lube and sloshing around. It felt like it was in your stomach, like his cock had dumped a load of cum directly into your belly and the pressure was immense. You wailed, nails once again digging holes into Steve's chest while the brunet finished up. 

"I bet Steve's gonna fuck you so hard that entire mess comes out of your asshole," Tony's voice was dark and husky against your ear, "you're gonna destroy this poor couch, aren't you sweetheart? Are you gonna clench up and keep that all inside or are you gonna let it out?" 

It's not like you could answer, your voice immediately stolen because the moment Tony stopped moving in your asshole Steve started pounding your cunt like someone had dared him to blast through your cervix with his cock. The scream that escaped didn't stop, your body thrashing as the same painful orgasm tore your body. It came in waves, never ending, especially as Steve continued to batter your cervix. It seemed to take ages before you body surrendered, the extended orgasm blackening your vision. The only thing you really registered as you regained consciousness was Tony's voice. 

"Wow, what a mess." 

A few seconds passed and your body regained more feeling and you realized he was talking about you. Everything below your pelvis was gushing with cum and lube and whatever had squirted out of you with that first orgasm. A finger dipped into the gape of your asshole and all you could manage was a quiet whine as it hooked the edge and pulled, letting another glob of cum and lube dribble out. 

"I'd say we should get rid of the couch, but we might as well keep it until she's broken in," Steve was still below you on the couch, his legs spread wide so that your lower body was rested on the cushion, "oh, Tones did you remember to melt the quick-ice you put on the road? We don't want anyone else to crash." 

"I'll send a suit. It's kind of funny that sliding on ice is what got you, huh sweetheart?" There was a teasing tone to his words, but you heard affection there too and that was almost worse because it reminded you how they talked about keeping you. 

"Ice is gonna be a bit more of a problem from now on, since you won't be taking that collar off anymore," Steve's fingers trailed over the skin of your neck, where the metal met your skin, "we'll buy you plenty of warm clothes." 

"No, we'll keep it nice and warm wherever you're staying," Tony corrected over your shoulder, his lips finding purchase against the skin of your back, "clothes will just get in the way I think."

"Good thinking, Tones." 

Good thinking. Fuck, fuck. 

 content warnings: nonconsensual vaginal fingering, double penetration, overstimulation, cock warming, creampie

[babbushka]

I don't know if you're still taking requests but if you would like to, Y: “You’re drunk.”“Oh yeah? Well, you’re beautiful!” w/ Flip Zimmerman would be appreciated. Again, no pressure if you're busy or don't feel like it :)

Anonymous said: Y prompt featuring Flip please?

I hope the both of you don’t mind that I only wrote one fic for this prompt! I hope you enjoy! 

(Set in my Just A Job universe, and inspired by some shenanigans I was talking about with my dear friend @adamsnackdriver ) 

Word Count: 1500 

Warnings: None :)

“You good to go in by yourself?” Ron asked as he drove Flip right up tohis driveway.

“Yeah, (Y/N)’s awake.” He said, pointing to the light that was turned onin the bedroom window. “Thanks for the lift, and for this.” He held up thebrown paper wrapped parcel and unbuckled his seatbelt.

It had been a long fucking night, Flip thought. Even with the alcohol inhis system he was annoyed, but most of all tired. There had been another rendezvouswith the enemy, for lack of better term, that had lasted much longer than Flipor Ron was expecting. After hours of pretending to be chummy with the klan, hehad done the irresponsible thing and drove to the station. Ron was nice enoughto drop him off home so he wouldn’t endanger himself or anyone else for thatmatter.  

“Anytime partner, anytime.” Ron said with a tired smile of his own, nodoubt wanting to pass out as badly as Flip did.

Ron waited until Flip got the door unlocked and turned around to givehis friend a wave, letting him know he could take off. Ron waved back, and tookoff down the road on his way home.

Flip sighed deeply, feeling the weight of the evening on his shoulders.He felt disgusted with himself, the alcohol churning his stomach. Every time hecame home from the bar that you had been so carefully warned to never step footinto, he worried that you would be angry with him, that you would leave him,for the vile hate he spewed.

It had never happened – you had only gotten angry with him one time fornot telling you the truth of the case. Every time he stepped through that dooryou only welcomed him with a loving embrace, but still the fear was there.

Touching the half-hidden mezuzah out of habit, Flip stepped into thefoyer. He tried to close the door quietly, in case you had accidentally fallenasleep, but at the sound of the lock clicking into place he could hear yourfootsteps coming down the stairs.

“Honey, is that you?” You asked. Flip hated the edge to your voice.

Ever since Felix had paid a surprise visit, you had been more nervous ofother klansmen coming to the door. You were careful not to use his real name atfirst, in case it was someone unwelcome.

“I’m sorry I’m so late.” Flip said. You descended the rest of the stairs,happy to see your husband. He pulled you into a big hug, squeezing you tight.

“I was worried, you said you’d be back by one.” You said, visibly more relaxedto have your man back home with you, where he belonged.

“I know. Things got carried away, they wouldn’t take my excuses toleave.” Flip said, scrubbing a hand over his face. His vision was cloudy andthe room was spinning just a little, but you looked radiant as ever, even withthe dark circles under your eyes.

“Were you out with them again? At their bar?” You asked softly, takingstock of him.

“Yeah.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You asked, prying his hand away from hisface, and lacing the fingers with your own instead.

“Not right now.” Flip admitted, sounding defeated. He would have to givea full recount of the events tomorrow over the phone, you would listen in then.He didn’t want to repeat himself and the things he said, any more than healready had to.

“Okay.” You nodded, understanding. God how he loved that you were sounderstanding, Flip thought. “Come on, let’s go to bed.” You tugged gently onhis hand, and Flip had taken a step or two forward to follow you before hebacktracked.

“Wait a minute.” He said, remembering the flat parcel he left by thedoor. He reached over and scooped it up, offering it to you. “Here, this is foryou.”

You frowned, knowing that shape had to be a record of some kind. Youcarefully undid the wrapping, and lo and behold there was the familiar cardboardsleeve. Except, it wasn’t any record – it was the self-titled album by the CorneliusBrothers & Sister Rose, autographedright on the cover.

“Where did you get this?” You gasped, knowing it couldn’t have beengiven to him from one of the klansmen.

“Patrice got it. She wanted you to have it, so she gave it to Ron whogave it to me.” Flip tried to recall the order in which the record came to hispossession.

“I love that woman, I’ll call her up tomorrow and give her my thanks.” Yougrinned, gently running a finger over the signature. It was real, not printedas part of the cover art. You and Patrice often talked on the phone for hoursduring the day when you weren’t hanging out in person, but how she had knownyou wanted to get your hands on this album was beyond you.

“You should play it.” Flip said, suddenly.

“It’s three in the morning honey.” You chuckled, but he shook his head,insistent.

“I know ketsl, but you’re sobeautiful when you dance.” He said, nearly begging.

“You’re drunk.” You smiled, blushing at his compliment.

“Oh yeah? Well, you’re beautiful!” Flip said, capturing your face in hisbig hands and kissing you. “And you’ll be beautiful when I’m hungover, andbeautiful when I’m asleep, and beautiful when I’m awake.” He said, punctuatingeach bit with another kiss until you had dissolved into a fit of giggles.

“Alright, but only one song.” Yourelented, leading Flip into the living room. “And you have to dance with me.”

Flip was always wary aboutjoining you, Patrice, and Ron at the disco. He needed a few drinks in him tobuild up the courage to get on the dance floor, too afraid of messing up thesteps or being off rhythm. The three of you always encouraged him – usually youteased that if he didn’t dance with you, someone else would, and that wasenough to spark the little bit of jealousy in him that got him moving andgrooving with you.

But when it was just the two ofyou, in the living room with no one else around, Flip didn’t mind as much. You hadalready married him, he could make a fool out of himself in front of you andnot worry too much.

You turned on the record playerand ever so carefully took the vinyl out of the plastic sleeve. Your favoritesong of the moment happened to be track number one, and the two of you beganmoving and strutting to the beat.

Flip knew how to dance, you never understood why he was so shy about it.The thing about disco line dancing, is that it worked with pretty much any song.You grinned as he rolled his hips and kicked his feet, snapping along to thebeat as you danced and sang along to the words.

“I can’t sleep, sleep at night...” You sang as he watched you with love in his eyes. 

Flip felt like he was in a dream,the light sheen of sweat on your skin caught by the glow of the candles, theway you smiled at him felt like a punch to the chest, but somehow in a goodway. He danced his stress away, all his worries and fears that he would have toaddress the next day were quieted as he focused only on you and your bodyagainst his.

Eventually, the three minutes ofthe song passed, and true to your word, you switched off the record player.

As drunk as he was, he did windup stumbling a little bit, and the both of you laughed yourselves silly when heaccidentally tripped over the lip of the rug in the living room, sending himcrashing down and bringing you down with him.

“Flip!” You laughed, “Are youalright?” You reached for his face to make sure he didn’t hit his head on theway down.

“Never better ketsl.” He laughedback.

“You big lumberjack come on, wereally gotta get you into bed.” You tried shoving him off of you to no avail.

“You’re so beautiful.” Flip justsaid again, tenderly brushing a lock of hair out of your mouth where it hadgotten caught in your giggles.

“Good thing you only have tophone in tomorrow, you’re going to be sohungover.” You sighed fondly, managing to get him off of you and standing.

“Hmm maybe, but then you’ll takecare of me.” Flip said, kissing your cheek for a long time. His facial hairtickled your skin, and he kept kissing you even after you tried squirming away,giggling. “My gorgeous nurse.”

“I’ll always take care of you.” Youbeamed.

You braved the stairs, one stepat a time, his arm around your waist for stability. All the spinning anddancing had probably been a bad idea for his balance, but you made it just thesame. You would always make it, as long as he kept coming home to you.  

Tagging some pals! :) As always, if you’d like to be added or taken off the list please just shoot me a message! @fullofbees @spinebarrel @oh-adam @dreamboatdriver @bad–bad–man @thecurlycaptain @bourbonboredom@driverficarchive@aweirdlookingtree@rosalynbair@redhairedfeistynerd@adamsnackdriver @glitzescape@arwarz @adamsnacc-kler 

[queenkaneko]

The Turning Point

Pairing: Colt Kaneko x MC (Ellie)

Word Count: 2297

A/N: Okay so things are going to get a little dark here. Warning everyone now, there will be a character death at the end of this chapter. I have mixed feelings about it but I hope nobody sends me death threats for this. I needed a catalyst and well...this is definitely that. Other than that, just the usual, a little angst and probably some cursing.

Summary: After a few close calls during their job, Ellie and Colt celebrate a successful heist. But an unusual phone call brings everything Ellie knew crashing down around her. (I officially suck at summaries. I’m sorry.)

Part Four Part Six

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The next two weeks were busy for Ellie and Colt. There were security measures to disable, escape routes to plan, and Colt also made Ellie practice every night in an empty lot, though many of those nights they ended up in the back seat, not the front. Once everything was ready, they loaded up her car at the shop and drove off into the night, heading for Fresno. Ellie merged onto the 5, heading north, with one hand on the wheel and the other out the window. She felt more at peace now than she had in weeks. They had a good plan, this would be an in and out job, and it would be good for Colt to have something to remember his dad by. She was doing this for him, yes, but she was also doing it for herself, to feel more comfortable in her own skin. Colt reached over and placed his hand on her knee, squeezing gently and Ellie flashed him a brief smile before turning her attention back to the road.

The ride was mostly silent, as they both reviewed their plan in their heads. A little less than two hours later, Ellie pulled into a gas station in Bakersfield, Colt getting out to put gas in her car as she ran inside to use the bathroom. Colt watched her run to the door smirking and shaking his head. They were almost to Fresno, and he wasn’t sure if he’d have had the strength to do this job without her here. If she hadn’t showed up, he might have just let it go, even if he’d had the crew to do it. This was more personal than he wanted to admit. Ellie emerged from the store a few minutes later, an open bag of chips in her hand and two soda bottles tucked under her arms. Colt was leaned against her door with his arms crossed, looking at the ground deep in thought until Ellie shoved one of the soda bottles into his chest with a smile. “Come on, don’t make that face. We can do this.” 

Colt took the soda and gave her a half smile before walking around to the passenger side. “I know.” He replied sliding into the seat as Ellie did the same. By the time they arrived at their destination, the sun was just starting to come up. She pulled her car into the short, abandoned driveway and parked.

“Well, it’s certainly been a while since I’ve been here.” Ellie spoke quietly, taking in the familiar house in front of her. “I...I haven’t been here since my mom died.” They’d planned to use Ellie’s father’s childhood home. It was mostly abandoned now, though some tourists rented it from time to time. Her dad hadn’t been able to bring himself to sell it, and her grandparents had paid it off so they kept it. The renters were just a way to pay the taxes on it and, if possible, a little extra income. It was a perfect hideout. Without another word, Ellie got out of the car and grabbed her backpack out of the back seat.

Colt followed her up the driveway, hands in his pockets as he took in the old brick fencing around the yard and the...pool? “Ellie you didn’t tell me this place had a pool.”

Ellie laughed a little as she pushed through the wire gate, leading him onto the back porch. She leaned down, searching for a certain empty flower pot with a red flower painted on the side. “Really? Did I forget to mention the hot tub too?” Finding the right one, she retrieved the spare key and unlocked the back door.

Colt let out a low whistle as he turned to follow her, but broke into a grin when he stepped inside and saw a pool table in the middle of the room. “And a pool table. Damn, Ellie, how rich were these grandparents of yours?” That earned him a punch in the shoulder. He chuckled and followed Ellie deeper into the house as she headed toward the bedrooms.

“I’ll kick your ass at it again, after I sleep for at least twelve hours.” Ellie walked in to a familiar room with tacky black and white wallpaper and black shag carpeting. “And yes, I know it looks like the set of a T.V show from the 70s.” She mumbled as she flopped face down on the bed in the middle of the room. Colt sat beside her before lying on his back, arms crossed behind his head. She moved closer and curled into his side, his arms immediately moving to wrap around her and pull her closer. They fell asleep like that, Ellie’s head resting on his shoulder, Colt’s hands slowly running up and down her arm.

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

The job started out going smoothly. Ellie had learned a few things from Toby about working around electronic security systems and that knowledge, combined with her affinity for computers, it only took her fifteen minutes to remotely shut it down using her laptop from a block away in the safety of her car. Once that was done they’d slipped inside and stalked through the shadows toward the garage at the back of the property. She disabled that security system too, using the panel on the side of the building, and the two slipped inside. It was late at night and the owner was out of town, but they’d still made sure the plan was timed down to the second, just in case. The system would restart in ten minutes, just enough time for Ellie to hotwire the car and Colt to drive it off the property. If they took too long, the gate would lock and the camera’s would come back online. It took Ellie five of those minutes to get the car started and when it was done, she looked over at Colt with a self satisfied grin. When she saw the expression on his face, her grin immediately faded. “Colt? Is everything alright?” They really, really didn’t have time for this, but she was worried by the look in his eyes.

Colt was staring at the car, unmoving. It was a different color, a gaudy shade of purple, but it was the same car. His eyes traced the frame as he replayed his father’s death in his head. He was frozen in place and his breathing was becoming frantic. Ellie realized then that Colt wasn’t with her right now. He was back on that bridge, seeing the same flames that haunted her nightmares too. Tentatively, she reached out and put a hand on his arm to remind him she was here, that they were here and that they were passed that point in their lives. Finally, he looked away from the car and into her eyes. The fear she saw there told her what she needed to do. “Colt, we don’t have time for this. I’m sorry. Just go and get my car, I’ll drive this one and meet you at our rendezvous point. Okay?” Ellie took his hands and pressed her keys into his palm before gently kissing his knuckles.

Colt had barely nodded before Ellie was behind the wheel. He stayed behind only a moment longer, watching her drive away in a nearly perfect copy of his dad’s car, then closed the garage door and ran back through the gate just seconds after the automatic locks engaged. He took his time getting back to Ellie’s car, mentally kicking himself for choking like that on a job, putting Ellie at risk, and for being too weak to drive the damn car himself after coming all this way. By the time he caught up to her, she was leaning against the back of the car, half of her lit up by a street lamp, the other half hidden in the shadow of a pawn shop. They’d chosen to meet across town in case the police showed up, so as not to lead them back to where they were staying. Colt parked her car behind the stolen one and crossed the distance to Ellie in just a few strides, hugging her tightly.

Ellie didn’t say anything, just rubbed small circles on his back, holding him close. He was grateful for that, she always knew when to push and when to just hold him. She understood that expressing himself didn’t come naturally to him and that there were times when just having her close was what he needed. They understood each other beyond words. Finally, Ellie gently pushed him back, gripping his arms. “Well, all things considered, that went well. I’m feeling like a race.. Let’s go store this and get into some more trouble.” Ellie smiled sweetly up at him and kissed him briefly before heading back to the driver’s door of their new Aylesbury. “Try to keep up.” She added with a wink over her shoulder and slid into the seat.

Smiling despite himself, Colt turned and got back into her Panther. Immediately, Ellie took off, clearly having fun testing the limits of the new car. Colt followed, managing to catch up to her soon after with the Pather’s powerful engine. He pulled up next to her, matching her speed, and watched her through the window. Noticing him, Ellie turned and flashed a cocky smirk to rival his own before smoothly upshifting the car and gaining a few feet. They raced all the way back to their safehouse, chasing each other down abandoned streets in the moonlight. The thrill of speed wiping everything else from Colt’s mind, causing his heart to race for a whole different reason. Watching Ellie race always amazed him, a cop’s daughter who made valedictorian only weeks ago was outpacing him, the son of an L.A crime boss, easily even in an unfamiliar car. By the time they’d stowed the stolen car in the small attached garage and walked inside the house, Colt had managed to calm down.

Ellie never mentioned his hesitation, instead challenging him to a game of pool which lasted until early the next morning. Colt was watching her line up her final shot when he noticed her phone buzzing on the table next to him. “Ellie, your dad’s calling.” Colt called to her and she looked up from the pool table to the clock which read 4:43am. Ellie took the phone with a look of confusion, wondering why her dad was calling so early.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself and to prepare to lie her ass off to her father, Ellie answered the call. “Hello?”

The voice on the other end wasn’t her fathers. “Miss Wheeler?” A woman’s voice asked softly.

“Um...yes?” Ellie responded, growing more confused and feeling a sudden sense of dread in her gut. “Who is this?”

“Miss Wheeler I’m from the L.A.P.D, I’m so sorry to tell you this while you’re at college, but your father was killed in action earlier tonight. He made sure that you would be informed as soon as possible in case this happened.”

Panic and grief seized her chest. This was a dream. This wasn’t happening. She was somewhere else, deep asleep and she would wake up in the morning like it never happened. Before her thoughts could run away from her, she took a deep shaky breath. “H-How?” Her voice cracked and Colt immediately stepped closer to her. Ellie stepped back, face pale as a sheet, and put up a hand as she listened to the cop.

“I’m not sure if he shared this with you, but he was working with the FBI to track down the members of the Brotherhood that escaped when Jason was brought in. They’d found the woman named Hester but when they went to arrest her, there was backup. She shot him and two other agents. He...He died in the ambulance.” Ellie’s hand was shaking, tears filling her eyes as she processed what the woman was saying. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t move. “We’ll need you to come home and claim his body, as you’re his only living relative. I’m truly sorry, Ellie. Your father was a great detective, and a better man.” Unable to say anything, Ellie just hung up the phone and stared at it.

Colt watched her, curiosity and concern written on his face. He took another tentative step forward and put his hands on her shoulders. “Elle, talk to me. What was that about? What’s wrong?” She looked up at him, pained and watery eyes meeting his and Colt felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He knew that look, he’d seen it in the mirror too many times in the last month.

“He’s dead. My dad’s dead.” She whispered, rushing forward to hug him and Colt felt her hot tears on his neck as she buried her face there. He wrapped her tightly in his arms, stroking her hair. Colt had been through this, yet he didn’t know what to say to her right now. He didn’t even know what he’d needed to hear when his dad died, maybe words weren’t enough for this kind of pain.

Ellie stood there, crying silently with only an occasional whimper, for a long time. She let Colt’s arms keep her grounded, focusing on them and not the throbbing pain in her chest. Once her tears stopped, she pulled back from him, looking at him with a determination he’d only seen in her eyes the night his own dad died and she’d held him on the curb outside the burning auto shop. “Hester shot him. I’m done playing by the rules. I’m done trusting the system. They all have to die, Colt.” 

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Tags: @poeticscolt @courtesan-of-garage @nazariortega @lovehugsandcandy @maxwellsquidsuit @brightpinkpeppercorn @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction @postcardfromsomewhere @walkerduchess @zaira-oh-zaira @umiumichan @long-gone-girl @leelee10898 @client-327 @desiree-0816

[ladyrijus]

Overreacting (SKZ x Reader)

A/N: The events surrounding the Hyunjin x Seungmin fight scene except a certain reader is involved...

To say you were lost would be an understatement. You were in the middle of nowhere as Minho drove you guys across a grass field. But what did you expect? You were with the notorious Stray Kids, it was literally in their name. 

You drift off into your memories, remembering the day you left the city jungle to join them. It was your only chance at freedom and you couldn’t miss it. Everywhere there were cameras, watching your every move. You had to be the perfect person, otherwise the authorities wouldn’t hesitate to send you back to the system. You shudder at the thought and quickly push it into the back of your mind.

Instead you tried to remember when you met these boys for the first time. It was rather strange to say the least. You were in your building when you heard thudding on your roof. You quickly scaled up to the top to see what was going on and came face to face. But rather than being the ruthless fugitives as the system portrayed them to be, they were curious and simply wary of you. It didn’t take long for you to be convinced that they were harmless and vice versa.

The heat snaps you back into reality as you wipe the sweat from your forehead. You wonder if you’re hallucinating as tints of yellow continued to burn into your eyes. Were the others seeing this?

“Hey look over there!” Felix cried out. You smile, but Hyunjin tries to pull him back down. Felix brushes him off aggressively and continues to look out. Hyunjin made a face and you shrugged. 

Suddenly, Minho makes a sudden halt.

Confused, you hop off the car with the others to see what’s going on. Oh, there’s a road blockage... wait.

That’s not right. You all are in the middle of nowhere, why would there be a blockage?

Unfortunately you had no time to think, for the sound of the camera crashing to the ground and the sudden clash between Hyunjin and Seungmin startled you.

“HYUNJIN, SEUNGMIN, STOP IT!” you yell. You run in between them and tear them apart before they could hurt each other. You stood in between them along with Changbin as the rest of the members held them back.

They were still struggling against the arms holding them back, heaving and panting, with pure detest written across their faces. You look at the two of them, appalled by what just happened.

“What is wrong with you?!” Hyunjin looked at you incredulously.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with Seungmin?! We’re being hunted down by the system, we’re blocked, and he thinks it’s time to take pretty pictures!”

Seungmin stared at him with disbelief.

“Oh so if I take a picture it’s a crime, but you can get away with tossing my camera?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. You look to the others who are in shock just as you are.

“Hyunjin,” you start. He snaps his head to you, his hateful expression turning to one of hurt. You gulp.

“I think you’re overreacting,”

He laughs miserably.

“I knew you were going to say that. Next thing I know, you’ll call me insane for seeing yellow in the air,”

You freeze. Wait. Yellow. In the air.

“Wait Hyunjin--”

“Forget about it (Y/N),”

“No, please hear me out,”

“I don’t want to,” he snapped. You bite your lip. He wasn’t the only one who was experiencing this. He had to know.

“I can see the yellow too,” you murmured.

“What?”

“I can see the yellow too. I don’t know what we’ve ingested or what’s in the environment, but it came with some side effects.”

[carrietrekkie]

Crossroads

Part I - I never wanted to do that.

Hello!

This one starts with a difficult decision and a little less Chris in it(Sorry for that, but he has his big moment in the next one.) Its three parts long, here is the first. Belongs to my Pike x Cathrin(OC) Story.

Warnings: Blood, violence, death,…

Tags: @bold-brave-courageous @allthetrek

Leave me a little fb, if you don´t mind.

Tyler’s eyes had something of a teacher who didn´t know what to do with his student. Like me, he stupidly had no choice.

The whole thing had started as kind of flight lesson, but then we had received a weak emergency call and since the shuttle was already on the move, Pike had decided that we could take a look at it. We all counted on a false alarm, but were instantly better informed when our shuttle exited Warp. The small cargo ship in front of us drove impulsively in the room, didn´t respond to our calls and the scans indicated that his crew, apart from a few, irregular signs of life, was no longer available. Tyler had dropped the shuttle in the hangar and continued to direct me into my first field mission. “Okay, I don´t like it, but I cannot look around in it all by myself.” He pulled out a gear belt, put it over me and closed it in front. “Too tight?” “I don´t know?” I watched him, a mixture of excitement and naked fear dancing tango in my stomach. “What should happen with it?” “Communicator.” He held out the box to me, I put it away. “Tricorder.” I reached for the device. He sighed, then slipped something into my belt, dropped slightly to his knees, and fastened a strap around my thigh. “Phaser.” He turned and picked up one of the weapons from the wall.

“Great.” I joined his sigh. “Must that be?” “It’s regulation. You will not need it.” “Your word in God’s ear canal.” I grinned at him, then I looked at the black weapon in my hand. “It’s set for stun.” Ash just put his own gun away, then leaned in to me. “So you change the attitude, well as I said, we don´t need that.” “But good to know.” Then I grabbed the phaser and looked at it. “And now?” He activated the opener for the ramp on the small spaceship, lifted his phaser lightly and we watched as it lowered and dulled on the ground. Slowly we left the ship and entered the freighter. Tyler threw a small ball in the air, which immediately began to collect data. “I’m not a pro, but it’s pretty quiet here.” I turned briefly around my axis, it was dark and cold. “Which would made our theory that the com system just has failed, for the ton.” Ash nodded towards the exit. “Let’s start on the bridge.” “What’s that thing?” I looked at our companion. “An observation drone. It tracks our movements and can help us if we lose our bearings. ” “That would be my part then.” I smiled at him, he returned it, then we moved on. Also out here it was very quiet. The lights flashed and some sparks flew through the area. “What happened here?” “It looks like an overvoltage has damaged the wires.” Ash glanced at one of the displays, which, too, flickered only lightly. He typed something in. “But the computer doesn´t give anything.” “So in the old-fashioned way.” “I allow myself to claim that we both understand two completely different things about that.” “That could be quite possible.” I glanced back over my shoulder. “How big is such a cargo ship?” “That depends on the class.” Tyler pointed to the left. “There are some that are just big enough for a few containers, some so huge that they can transport all the equipment needed to rebuild a colony.”

“Wow, like a ship of the galaxy class?” I took a quick look into the corridor that went off to the right, this was empty too. “What’s a galaxy class ship?” Tyler raised an eyebrow. “Well, the Enterprise.” I looked at him. “Um no.” Now he came up to me. “The Enterprise belongs to the Constitution class.” “Oh.” I pulled my eyebrows together. “Are you alright?” “Yes.” I didn´t take my smile off myself. “Yeah, all right, that just happened to me somehow like that.” I kept pointing, then I started walking and he followed me. “Do you have that more often?”

“This was the first time since Talos.” I thought for a moment. “And the first time it relates to anything other than the people I met here.” “What do you make of it?” “I don´t know.” I squinted at him. “Above all, I don´t know if I should tell you.” He laughed briefly. “It was enough for me Prescot missed a hell of a trip, I don´t want to know what Leland comes up with.” “Captain Leland is a lot less bad.” Tyler shook his head for a moment. “You know how that sounded?” “Yes, but it was already out of my mouth.”

We turned a corner and both stopped dead in our tracks. In front of us, a trail of blood spread, which quickly ended in a pool of blood. “Oh, bad.” I glanced at him. “Okay, you need the phaser.” “I was afraid you would say that.” I did, however, comply with his order. Slowly we moved on.

“Carefully.” Tyler made me understand that I should stay behind him, then we started. As we passed the bloodstain, I lit it with the Phaser’s faint lamp. "Is that pink?” Again my brain threw a rag and I answered myself. “Klingons have pink blood.” “How do you know that?” I raised an eyebrow, he did it to me. “Yes, right, sorry. However, that does not make our situation any better. ” “I thought there was peace between the Klingon Empire and the Federation?” I had to see that I got on with my research. “That’s the way it is, but not everyone sees it and there are always black sheep´s. Even in the Federation. ” “Ohh, that I know.”

“Stop.” He stretched out his arm and I ran into it, then saw what alarmed him. A few feet away, a body lay on the ground. “I hate to say it, could be your responsibility.” “My responsibility?” “Medicine and so on? I’m not up to it.” “Mmh.” I followed him to the body, then dropped the phaser. “I don´t think I’m comfortable with it.” Slowly, I went to my knees and pulled the tricorder anyway. Tyler had been so far-sighted as to give me a medical one. “And I don´t think this thing is familiar with it either.” I tried to get out of the confusing data that the device showed me. “Okay, he seems to be dead.”

Tyler didn´t say anything, instead he stood behind me, his weapon at the ready and alerted to the tips of his hair. “Do you see why?” “I cannot see any big injuries.” I knelt down and leaned over the dead man. “Or something that looks like the hit of a weapon.” “But?” He looked over my shoulder. “He looks sick. He has bled from the body orifices I can see. "I refrained from pulling up his eyelids, but I was sure they would be bloodshot. "His skin looks swollen and sore.” I raised the phaser and lit it up. “Apparently he has also bleed out of his digestive system.” Now I lit Tyler. “I suppose Klingons have such organs?” His answer was another slate look. “Hey, I’ve never seen a real Klingon, so apart from you and I think that doesn´t count.” He started walking up and down a few steps. “Maybe 50 percent.”

“Do you know what a hemorrhagic fever is?” Now he looked at me questioningly. “It is a virus form on   Earth, maybe something exists on other planets, unfortunately I don´t know that.” I got up again. “It’s a cruel way to die, the organs liquefy, you bleed from all orifices in the body, and if you don´t burn till high fever, you’ll suffocate your own blood or bleed inside.” “Get out!” “I didn´t touch him.” I stared at Tyler as he came to me wide-eyed, grabbing my arm and starting to pull me away. “Ash, what’s up?” “This is not a good sign.” He pointed to the corpse. “It’s contagious and far more dangerous than what you’ve just told me.” When I finally adjusted to his pace, he let go of me. “He was certainly not alone.” “If you wanted to scare me.”

Then something crashed into Ash with unimaginable force, knocking him off his feet, flinging him against the nearest wall, before twisting with a gruesome growl.

“Oh, great God.”

I backed away as my brain caught what was building up in front of me. So that was a Klingon, alive and apparently angry. “Ash!” I looked around frantically, then my eyes fell on the phaser in my hand. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tyler wobbly on his legs, shaking his head, then running and leaping with all his might against the attacker in front of me.

The Klingon swung a kind of sword. Tyler bent down and the blade missed him very sharply, but she caught me by the arm. I shouted for a moment, rolling over and falling to the ground. The phaser slipped out of my hand and down the hall a few yards away. A scream made me drive around and I could just see the Klingon twisted Tylers arm and slammed him against the door frame, dazed, he fell to the ground and remained lying. “Ash!”

Panic crept up in me as the Klingon now turned back to me. Growling, he came slowly closer. I felt like a prey he had chosen to play with. I pushed away and crawled toward the phaser on the ground more than I ran, but something caught my boot and pulled me back just as my fingers tips reached the gun’s handle. Helplessly I had to watch as it slipped away and the Klingon dragged me back. I reached out with my free leg and kicked him as hard as I could against his nose. He hissed and released me. Blood spurted from it, but I paid no attention to it, came to my feet, stumbled to my gun, tore it up and squeezed. Horrified, I watched him stumble for a moment, shaking himself as if the stun beam were an annoying insect, then he relented.

“Cathrin!” Tyler came slowly to himself, so I slowed down and was lucky that the beefy Klingon had not expected that and took a moment to realize that I ran past him to Tyler. “Ash, come on, we have to get out of here!” I grabbed him under hia arm and was surprised to find that despite his slender figure, he was surprisingly heavy. Behind us our attacker roared, drew another weapon and rushed towards us. “Shoot ‘em.” Ash could hardly speak in pain, but somehow managed to shove his phaser into my hand. I raised the gun and squeezed again. Again no effect. Ash rolled his eyes and began to slide out of my arms again. “Shit.”

I hesitated a moment, then turned the phaser fully open and pointed it forward again. But then I couldn´t do it. I couldn´t shoot. Tyler tore me down with him again, again he had to fight for his consciousness, but I with very different things. When the Klingon screamed again, he stood directly in front of us, his sword raised and his gaze fixed on Tyler. But before he could deliver the fatal blow, something inside me burned and I pulled the trigger. The strong beam hit him right on the head and I could see right away that this time it didn´t missed his effect. A terrible grunt slipped from his throat as he folded over me and fell to my feet.

I gasped and slipped back a bit, but before I could bang through, a pained sound from Tyler’s direction stopped me. “Ash!” I slipped over to him. He was bleeding from a cut on his cheek, his lip was slightly torn and he held his arm. “Can you get up?” “Yeah, just get out of here.” He scrambled to his feet and this time I somehow managed to get him on his feet. “This way.” “Okay.” I put his good arm over my shoulders and hoped he would have the strength to get through to the shuttle. Surprised by myself, we found the way back to the hangar faster than expected. I dragged him into the shuttle, slid down to the floor, and closed the ramp with a quick handshake. Nobody would get through that for now. Completely exhausted, I slapped myself on the floor, my muscles burned, my heart beat so hard it was almost blowing, and every breath burned like crazy. The fabric of my uniform was sticking to me and my hands were shaking.

“Ahhh.” Tyler rolled away when the attempt to get up failed. “Wait.” I pulled myself together, grabbed the first aid kit and crawled to him. I pulled out a tricorder, then crossed his arm. “He dislocated your shoulder.” “What you don´t say.” He squinted hard. “Do you have painkillers in there?” “If we don´t fix that, you might lose your arm.” I started looking for a hypospray. “Muscle Relaxation.”

Annoyed, I dumped the case and searched for an ampoule of the drug. “Ah.” I put it in the spray and pressed it to Tyler’s neck. “Do you want to tell me what this is going to be?” “I don´t think so.” I smiled weakly at him. “Sit up.” With a groan, he responded to the request. I loaded an ampoule of the strongest painkiller I found into the spray, then I inject it. “It should be better now.” “Okay and what’s that for?” “You´ll notice.” I grabbed his arm, knelt in front of him and looked at him. “Sorry.” “What?”

I pressed his upper body against the wall and then his arm back until I heard it crack loudly. It even hurt me. That he was screaming so much didn´t really make it any better. “Are you crazy !?” He glared at me evilly. “It would have been even worse if I had warned you.” I let go of his arm and dropped back onto my feet. “I’m sorry, but now it should be better immediately.” He took a breath, apparently he wanted to scold another round, but just when he opened his mouth, he apparently decided otherwise.

“I’m right.” I raised my eyebrows. “You are.” Carefully, he began to move his injured arm. “What was that?” I got up from the floor and looked out the window of the shuttle. “I guess, pirates, looters. Will you help me? ” “Sure.” I went back and helped him get up. “Slowly.” “Whoa, what did you give me?” He held his head. “Not that it doesn´t feel good.” “A relaxant and painkiller.” I brought him forward and just wanted to put him in the pilot’s seat as he waved off.

“No, this place.” He swung himself into the co-pilot’s. “If I lose consciousness, you have to fly the ship.” “Sure.” I grinned at him. “Any other wishes?” “You’re fine.” Now he grinned. “Can you still pull yourself together a little bit?” I started to ran up the shuttle’s systems. “I have no idea what I have to do.” Somehow I managed to get the engines started. “Oh, look at that.” Tyler sank back into the seat. “Something stuck. Now this switch. ” “Okay.” I followed his finger, then accelerated and left this inhospitable place. “How did I set a course?” I looked to the right, but instead of answering, Tyler’s head rolled backwards. “Ash!” I yelled at him, which made him start up again. “Don´t leave me alone now.” “Trying to connect Discovery, maybe they could pick us up.” “Yeah, that sounds good.” I looked out the window. “Could they shoot us?” “I think that’s unlikely.”

Tyler’s breathing was heavy, he fought the medications and the stuff that his own body was spilling out, but he wouldn´t be able to last forever. “What these Klingons had, also attacks the logical thinking. They only act, react. ” “Yeah well, save your energy, it’ll take a while before we get home.” I tried to remember Kelya’s flying lesson and carried out the necessary orders to reach Discovery.

“Shuttle three to Discovery, come in, please.” I listened to the silence that followed. “Shuttle three, here Discovery, we’ll hear you.” Pike’s voice came from the Con, shortly thereafter the screen came on and we saw the bridge. “Everything OK?” “Um, no, not really.” I smiled quickly. “We were attacked when we entered the damaged ship.” “Who attacked you?” “Klingon.” I was aware that my voice sounded a bit shrill. “And they were huge and incredibly bad. Well, actually it was only one. ” “Cathrin.” Ash muttered softly. “Oh, right. Tyler is injured and busy not totally losing consciousness. ”

“Where are you?” Pike signaled to Owo and I could see her fingers flying over the console. “I don´t know.” My eyes darted over the displays of the shuttle. “How…” “Quiet, we’ll help you through.” Pike turned to Burnham. “Can we find them?” “As long as they keep the frequency open, that should not be a problem.” “See,” he turned back to us. “All good.” I smiled crooked, then something else caught my attention. “There are a lot of colorful lights here all at once.” I squinted. “I think the cargo ship explodes!” “Start the impulse engines!” Pikes voice let me twitch briefly. “Left from you. Fingers on the control and slowly push forward. ” It took me a second to find the control panel, then I put my fingers on it and executed Pike’s instructions.

“Good.” He tried to smile encouragingly, well, as far as I could see, then I felt the blast of the collapsing freighter hit our hull and before I knew it, Tyler and I flung it out of the seats and threw ourselves through the small spaceship. Tyler slapped the floor, lay there and I rolled to my back. “Cathrin! Do you hear us? "That was Michael’s voice. "Ash, get in touch!” “Detmer set course, max Warp.” I opened my eyes, rolling over and cursing softly. “I clearly spend too much time on the ground of those things.” I scrambled up from them and looked ahead. The shuttle had turned and I could see the still smoldering remains of the freighter. “Shuttle three please respond!”

“Yeah, here Zimmer, we’re still alive, just shaken up a bit.” I went to Tyler and turned him carefully on the back. “Right now you are really to be envied.” Then it flashed again. A blue beam covered the ship and I felt something pull us backwards. “Discovery here, we have you.” “Understood.” I slumped against the wall next to Tyler, then closed my eyes briefly and didn´t open them until I felt the shuttle touched down and opened from the outside.

Masterlist

[green-eyeddragonfanfiction]

War of Attrition: Chapter 23

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x Reader Summary: Best friends with Steve Rogers, renowned Howling Commando, and married to one James Buchanan Barnes, your life wasn’t perfect, but it was as close as it could possibly be in the middle of World War II. Then you fell from a train in the Alps, and everything changed. You spent nearly 70 years as a tool of Hydra alongside your beloved, though your past with him was more often than not forgotten. Tony learns the truth. Bucky gets taken to Berlin. Steve and Tony fight. Your and Bucky’s future hangs in the balance. Warnings: Swearing (always), blood, violence, mentions of murder/death Word Count: ~4,637 A/N:  

Masterlist // Book One // Book Two

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

He stared at you for a long time, to the point that it was almost uncomfortable, before he nodded. “Alright, fine. I’ll see what I can do. There’ll be a lo-”

“Tony.” The sound of his name made him pause, fingertip halfway to his Starkpad, eyebrow raised in question. “There’s one more thing you should know about me and Bucky.”

You didn’t try to block the hit. You saw it coming a mile away, but it wasn’t like you didn’t deserve it.

The was a surprising amount of force behind it, but you reminded yourself that Tony spent most of his time in a workshop. Working with heavy machinery all day lent to more muscle than one would expect from a genius billionaire playboy.

Your head whipped to the side with the force of the blow and you’d barely turned your head to look back at him before the next blow came, his fist sending your head swiveling the other direction. 

He was probably being trained by someone- Steve, maybe Tasha?- because his knee came up with surprising swiftness and you felt the air rush out of your lungs. 

The blows didn’t stop and, predictably, the elbow came next, crashing into your face with a strength that probably would have concussed a normal person. As it was, you let the force of the blow topple you to the floor of the plane.

Tony was on you instantly, eyes wild and shining with unshed tears as he rained blows upon you; everywhere from your face to your stomach.

“You killed them!” he screeched, fury and grief twisting his face into something you almost didn’t recognize. “Give me my suit, FRIDAY!” he called to the AI, tone deadly.

“I’m afraid I can’t let that happen at the moment, Master Stark,” Alfred said quietly. He’d been told not to let Tony have any suits, but you’d told him not to interfere otherwise. This was a long time coming and you’d take whatever Stark would dole out without complaint.

Tony swore loudly and landed a few more haymakers on your face. One of them nearly disconnected the optic wires that connected your cybernetic eye, but the visual feed only shuddered dangerously before resuming normal function. You knew, however, that your eye would probably swell shut from the blow.

“FRIDAY, override the AI. Now,” he barked.

“I tried, boss, but they have control of those systems right now,” the female-voiced AI said.

Tony cussed again and hopped off of you, but you made no move to get up. Your body ached distantly; it wasn’t the worst damage you’d suffered (not by a long shot) but your body still protested at the slightest movement.

He picked up the twisted hunk of metal that was his pistol and gripped it in his fist as he stalked back over.

“Help my wife... please... help...”

The video was playing on repeat in the background, Howard Stark’s dying plea filling the cabin, nearly drowned out by the sound of the hunk of metal being used as a blunt weapon against your face and body. You were fairly sure you felt your nose break and bit your tongue to choke back the scream of pain.

“(Y/N)...?”

Tears leaked out of your eyes and slid down the sides of your face and into your hair, but you were too broken to know if they’re from the pain of the beating Tony was giving you or the pain of reliving that moment again.

“He recognized you and you still killed him! You killed your friend!” Tony yelled, red in the face now. Apparently the gun wasn’t satisfying enough because he returned to using his fists. Each time he hit you his knuckles came away bloodier, but you knew at least some of it was his. You could feel cuts and bruises on every inch of your face, but Tony wasn’t done yet.

“Howard! How-”

Maria Stark’s voice acted like a match to a powder keg and Tony rose. You didn’t dare to hope it was over and you were rewarded for your wariness because a second later Tony was stomping down on your left leg, right at the junction between metal and flesh.

You did scream then, the fake nerves on fire as your flesh ground against the metal plates. Even without having to look you knew it was bleeding at the seam of the metal.

“I bet you made it quick, didn’t you? But not too quick, no. You had to make it look like an accident. First you had to run their car off the road. Then you had to make it look like they’d died in the impact, so you crushed my father’s head while your maggot of a husband choked the life out of my mom? Because bullets would have given it away. So you had to get up close and personal and do it. Isn’t that right?” he spat, as he stomped on your fingers and dug his heel into the meat of your hand, giving special focus to the area where the metal met skin.

You let yourself feel the pain. If you dissociated you’d become the Asset and Tony would be dead before he could blink. 

So you screamed as the wiring in your hands was pulled and tugged out of their places, blood and nerves left exposed.

“Say something, you piece of shit!” he yelled as the video started over. You could hear the crash of the car hitting the tree.

You blinked up at him, though it was getting hard as blood had started leaking into your eyes. He was taking in great heaving breaths and he had more than one spot of blood on his suit. 

And you remained silent, because what could you possibly say to this man? What could you ever do to make it right? There was nothing.

He growled when you said nothing and was on top of you again in a flash, hunk of warped gun in his hand. He brought it above his head, raised and ready to strike a blow you knew would split your skull in two, enhancements or no, and closed your eyes.

“Be sure of what you’re about to do, Anthony Edward Stark, because there’s no going back. For either of us.” It was hard to talk with a split lip and your face was already starting to well. It also didn’t help that your head was ringing from the blows, making it even harder to think.

I’m so sorry.

You felt him tense above you and you waited for the blow to come.

It felt like hours, though you knew it was only seconds. However, it was much longer than you’d been expecting.

You cracked open a single eye- the only one you could open right then- and looked up at Tony.

He was frozen, staring at you with such hatred that you nearly recoiled. His dark brown eyes met yours and that broke the spell.

He dropped the useless hunk of gun to the ground, taking you completely by surprise. His fingertips tapped away at his watch and you watched as it transformed into a small Iron Man gauntlet. You barely had time to think about how you should have noticed it before he was pointing it at you.

A huge blast of concussive energy hit you point blank and the world faded to black.

Steve’s POV

They flew them from Bucharest to Berlin. He, Sam, and T’Challa were under heavy guard the entire time, their suits, his shield, Sam’s wings and weapons all confiscated.

The guard they had Bucky under paled in comparison. They’d put him in a sort of reinforced glass cage, but Steve never managed to glimpse his friend behind all of the guards and vehicles, only the reinforced container that no human being had any right being kept in.

“So you like cats?”

Steve glanced behind himself at this friend, face serious. “Sam,” he chastised. This wasn’t the time to be provoking T’Challa.

“What? Dude shows up dressed like a cat and you don’t wanna know more?” Sam asked. From Steve’s spot in the van he could just barely see part of T’Challa’s face, but the warrior-king didn’t turn around to look at them. For all the reaction he showed, Sam might not have even spoken.

Sam had a point, at least, and Steve frowned at the back of T’Challa’s head. “Your suit. It’s Vibranium?” he asked, hoping his voice wasn’t accusatory.

That, at least, got a reaction out of T’Challa, slight though it was. He turned his head enough to be able to see Steve out of his peripheral vision, expression neutral but unnaturally so, hiding the anger underneath. “The Black Panther has been the protector of Wakanda for generations. A mantle passed from warrior to warrior.” As he spoke his gaze returned to the front of the van. “And now because your friends murdered my father, I also wear the mantle of king.” Steve recognized the loss in his voice- it was one he knew all too well. “So, I ask you... as both warrior and king-” he turned his head enough to stare at Steve, challenge and anger radiating off of him in waves despite his calm posture, “-how long do you think you can keep your friends safe from me?”

Steve felt himself glaring at the threat so, instead of acting rashly, he turned his glower on the headrest of the driver’s seat and bit out, “You’ve got the wrong people.”

T’Challa didn’t answer that, but Steve could practically feel his dismissal in the man’s posture.

The rest of the very short ride was suffered in silence. Steve watched through the metal grating that covered windows as the long line of military vehicles and cop cars turned into a large building. It was separated into two halves on either side of the river, connected by a sky bridge.

The road tilted downward and the surroundings vanished as the van drove into the underground part of the complex. The tunnel was longer than Steve expected, but eventually the walls opened again to reveal a large, bunker-like room.

By the time they let Steve, Sam, and T’Challa out of the van Bucky had already been unloaded from the huge armored van. He was looking around at the guards as they checked the cage in a sort of resigned way.

The MP standing between him and Bucky’s cage gestured to someone behind Steve so he turned and was surprised to see Sharon standing next to a short man in a grey suit that had an air of self importance that immediately grated on Steve’s nerves. Steve hoped his face remained impassive; Sharon was supposed to be guarding (Y/N), not helping wrangle the situation in Berlin. She barely glanced at him, the only outward sign of nervousness the way she shifted from foot to foot.

“What’s gonna happen to him?” Steve asked the two of them, all business as he stalked towards them, T’Challa and Sam close behind.

“Same thing that oughta happen to you,” the man in the suit said with a smarmy smile. “Psychological evaluation and extradition.” He looked pleased as hell and Steve wanted to punch him in the face.

Sharon seemed to sense this and quickly spoke up. “This is Everett Ross, Deputy Task Force Commander.” Steve didn’t miss the way she couldn’t seem to make eye contact with him.

“What about their lawyer?”

If anything, Ross’ smile became even more smug. “Lawyer. That’s funny.” Sharon glanced at Ross, frown on her face, but said nothing. “See that their weapons are placed in lockup,” he said, head tilting towards the MPs escorting the three of them. “Oh, we’ll write you a receipt,” he said, all false geniality.

“I better not look out the window and see anyone flying around in that,” Sam said testily. Ross, however, paid him no mind and was already walking deeper into the building with Steve, T’Challa, and Sam following warily behind. Steve threw one last look over his shoulder, just in time to see reinforced concrete doors shut with Bucky behind them. The defeated look on his face made Steve feel like there was a hot knife twisting in his gut.

He’d failed you.

They made it all of five feet before Ross paused and pulled his phone out of his pocket (Steve had no idea how the man had cell service down here). Whoever was talking to him on the other end of the line gave him something to smile about and Steve felt a little bit of dread curl in the pit of his stomach. Steve had decided within five seconds of meeting the man that whatever made him smile was something to be concerned about.

He turns a triumphant smile on Steve and holds his arms out grandly. “I hope you enjoyed your brief stint, Captain. We’re going to have a nice long conversation about why you tried to stop my men from apprehending Barnes, but the good guys come out on top in the end. Stark’s on his way and he’s bringing something that’ll make my year,” Ross said, hands clasped together as though praying to some deity for making his life.

Neither he, Sam, nor T’Challa took the obvious bait, but Sharon- thanks to her job- had to ask, “What’s the situation, sir?”

Ross turned a megawatt smile on her. “We have the matching set! I honestly thought she’d go to ground after we caught her accomplice, but Stark’s bringing the illustrious Misses Barnes with him. His helicopter’s due to land in a few minutes!” he said, rubbing his hands together excitedly. “Both Winter Soldiers in one day! Pinch me, I’m dreaming!” he gushed as he turned away again and practically strutted towards the doors.

Steve’s eyes were wide, looking between Sharon and Ross in horror. She looked as confused as he did, but hastily turned and trailed after her boss.

The MPs shoved him forward and Steve’s brain kicked back into gear, feet quickly eating up the gap that had grown between him and Ross. He could hear Sam trying to keep up and knew, even though he couldn’t hear him, T’Challa was close behind.

The guards kept Steve from getting too close to Ross and Sharon was just as clueless as he was, so it was a bit of relief when the elevator doors opened and Natasha stepped out and immediately made a beeline for him, expression severe.

“For the record, this is what making things worse looks like,” she said as she went to stand beside him. 

Steve didn’t look at her, just watched as Ross and Sharon disappeared into one of the elevators while they waited for the next one. “He’s alive.” He glanced at her, then, and saw that she was glancing around warily. “What Ross said about Tony having (Y/N). Is that true?”

He could see her green eyes flick up to him and then away again. “We’ll see in a few minutes. Stark is landing any second now.”

The elevator ride to the operations room was awkward at best. Sam, Steve, and Natasha all crammed into one elevator with guards while T’Challa rode in a different one.

When the doors finally opened Steve was met with a hive of activity and a plethora of screens monitoring just about everything in the building, including where Bucky was being held. 

A set of doors on the other end of room opened and Tony marched through, looking thunderous.

Ross, however, didn’t seem to notice. “There’s the Iron Man of the hour! We’ve already sent teams up to secure the fugitive. I’m assuming she’s being contained by one of your inventions, so-”

Tony glared at him. “Actually she’s just unconscious. Have at ‘er,” he said bitterly. In all the years he’d known Tony, Steve had only heard him talk like that once or twice, all regarding painful things. For someone who had apparently apprehended one of the most dangerous assassins in the world, he seemed surprisingly... fine? Physically, at least.

So when Tony looked around the room, spotted Steve through the glass of the meeting room, and glared, Steve felt his hackles rise. He left Ross gaping as he cut a warpath through the room, directly to Steve.

Natasha put a hand on his shoulder to slow him down, but he brushed it aside and placed a hand to the center of Steve’s chest, pushing him backwards until he hit the wall.

The entire room around them froze, everyone carefully assessing what was happening.

“Did you know?” Tony hissed between clenched teeth, dark brown eyes searching.

Steve was floored. The only other time Tony had acted like this towards him was when they were all being influenced by Loki’s scepter. “What are you talkin-” he began, but Tony’s face twisted with anger.

“Did you know they killed my parents?” he yelled. If Steve wasn’t enhanced, the fingers on his chest would have been painful. Now that Steve really looked, he could tell Tony was on the verge of crying.

The world fell out from under Steve’s feet for a moment. Sure, he’d had his suspicions. After spending so much time researching and looking for the Winter Soldiers, he probably knew more about them than just about anyone else (not even counting what he knew about them before they were brainwashed and enhanced). He thought they might be responsible, but to tell Tony that without proof? Bring up that pain again when he couldn’t be sure? What was the point?

“I didn’t know it was them,” Steve answered, heart clenching painfully.

Tony grabbed him by the shirt and tugged him forward, eyes going a bit manic. “Don’t bullshit me, Rogers,” he hissed venomously. “Did. You. Know?”

Steve stared at Tony- his friend- searchingly. There was no point in softening the blow, was there? No sense in lying, not about something so important. He clenched his jaw, mouth set in a tight line. “Yes.”

Tony reeled as if he’d been struck and took a step back, Steve’s shirt falling from his grasp. Steve watched him, wary, as Stark turned half away from him, chest heaving. When he glanced down it took him a second to realize what he was seeing.

Tony’s knuckles had been reduced to a bloody mess.

It all clicked into place. “Tony, what did you-”

Steve saw the hit coming but he was too stunned by the sudden turn of events to find the wherewithal to block or dodge it.

Tony’s bloody fist connected with the side of Steve’s head, though Steve had a feeling Tony had taken more damage than he did. Blood that wasn’t his own coated his jaw and Steve stared at Tony, shocked. Natasha and Sam were between them in an instant because Tony looked like he wanted to go after Steve again.

“She had a recording of it, you know! Of them killing my parents! I got to watch her bash my dad’s skull in and hear the gasps from my mom as he squeezed the life out of her!” Tony seethed, eyes wild and dangerous.

Steve’s hand drifted up of its own accord and swiped at the blood. “It wasn’t them, Tony. Hydra had control of their minds.”

Tony barely blinked. “I don’t care. They killed my mom.”

Steve didn’t know what to say to that. Tony wasn’t thinking straight right now, not that Steve could blame him. Trying to get him to see- to understand- would be nigh impossible right now.

“Tony!” It was Natasha who spoke up, voice clear and demanding enough that he finally looked away from Steve, though the wild, hunted look in his eyes didn’t go away. “I know you’re hurting right now, but it’s done. They’ve been captured. What happens to them next isn’t up to us. Any of us,” she said, looking between Steve and Tony pointedly at that last sentence. The hint of sadness in her voice might have slipped under the radar for the others, but Steve recognized it for what it was.

Tony’s hand remained clenched at this sides and he looked carefully from Steve, to Natasha, and to all the gawking onlookers before he turned and stalked away before sitting down almost violently at one of the free chairs in the room.

Despite what people thought, Steve knew when to leave well enough alone. This was a fight for another day, when Tony had some time to process what had happened.

A flurry of activity at the other end of the room caught his attention and, when his enhanced vision let him see the the feed from the cameras on the roof, he found himself walking forward, needing to get a closer look.

He ignored the protests of the people at their stations and stared, horrified, as a team wheeled you out on a gurney, oxygen mask over your mouth and nose. Your face was so swollen and bloody that Steve could hardly recognize you. In fact, if it wasn’t for the metal legs and golden wiring, he wouldn’t have been able to.

A medical team- surrounded by heavily armed guards- was swarming around you as they led you into the building. Steve could see the heavy metal restraints tying your legs in place. Imposing but decidedly less powerful restraints held your arms in place. He could see Natasha walk up beside him out of the corner of his eye, but his eyes were riveted to the screen in front of him.

“Who did this?” Steve asked, as calmly and evenly as he could manage. Even before Hydra got a hold of her and Bucky (Y/N) was a force to be reckoned with. That she’d been subdued- even by Tony or a large group of elite soldiers- was practically laughable. Well, no. Tony could do it but- “Don’t answer that. I already know,” Steve said, turning slowly to stare at Tony who had his back to the two of them.

Natasha glanced between them, eyes lingering on the screen that was following your progress through the halls of the compound. “You don’t know what happened, Steve.”

Steve turned an unimpressed stare on her as Sam walked up and whistled lowly at the screen, looking away when he got a particularly high res image of the damage. “She’s beat black and blue and the only damage he has is on his knuckles? Want to explain to me how that one happened, Nat?” he snarled.

Sam nodded, though he looked less than thrilled by this news. “Don’t get wounds like that in an Iron Man suit and something tells me he’d have more than a few scrapes on his knuckles if she was fighting him for real.”

Natasha’s mouth was set in a hard line, but even she couldn’t deny that. Knowing he was right, Steve looked over her head at Ross, who was talking to people on a radio. “You’re going to stabilize her and treat her wounds, right?” he asked, tone leaving little room for arguments.

Ross, however, was nearly foolish in his righteousness. “Can’t get information from her if she’s dead,” was all the answer he gave before he turned back to the monitors.

It was a yes, backhanded as it was, and a tiny weight was taken off his shoulders. They wouldn’t let you die because they needed you. He could work with that for now.

“This way,” Natasha said quietly, jerking her head ever so slightly in the direction of the glass box of a conference room in the center of the operations center. Steve gave Ross and the monitors one last glance before he followed her, Sam following closely. Tony glared at them as they passed, but Steve couldn’t look at him right then. He was too angry.

The doors slid closed silently behind Sam and they took a seat the table. To Steve’s surprise Sharon came in hot on their heels, face unreadable. “She’s being taken to medical under heavy guard. Her injuries aren’t life-threatening. It was a sonic blast that knocked her unconscious, not the head trauma. We’re trying to get a scan but it’s difficult with all of the tech in her head. We think nothing’s broken, but they can’t be sure without more information.”

Steve leaned back in his seat and let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He saw Natasha do the same, though more subtly. “Does Bucky know? That she’s here?”

Sharon frowned slightly and turned away to watch the screens; one of (Y/N) in the medical wing, the other of Bucky in his pod. From the looks of it, they’d sent someone in to talk to him. She shook her head. “Ross wants to keep him as calm as possible for the time being. Chances are that once she’s been stabilized and had some time to heal she’ll be used as leverage to get information from him. A lot of what they do and where they’ve been is a mystery, but one thing always seems to hold true; they’re always together.”

Steve tried to hold back a glower and probably failed. “Because they’re still in there. They still love each other.”

Sharon’s gaze slid from the monitors to Steve, but Steve looked away, not wanting to see the pity in her eyes. “They were also partners for years, Steve. If our data’s correct they went on hundreds of missions together. That could easily be the reason why they stay together. Either way, it seems like the best way to coerce them into talking.”

Steve sighed and buried his face in his hands, taking a second to collect his thoughts. “She seemed convinced that someone was out there pulling the strings- something we didn’t see. What if she was right?”

Natasha frowned and leaned forward slightly. “What are you talking about, Steve?”

Steve spotted the photo- the one of “Bucky” next to the news van- on the desk and picked it up, showing it to the other three. “Why would the Task Force release this photo to begin with?”

Sharon shrugged, gesturing halfheartedly with her hand. “Get the word out? Involve as many eyes as we can?” she suggested with a little shake of her head.

Steve nodded. “Right. That’s a good way to flush a guy out of hiding.”

“Set of a bomb, get your picture taken,” Natasha said quietly, green eyes calculating as she watched Steve closely.

“Get seven billion people looking for the Winter Soldiers,” Steve added.

Sharon nodded, eyes downcast as she thought about it. “You’re saying someone framed them to find them.”

Sam shook his head, fingers laced together on the table in front of him. “Steve, we looked for them for two years and found nothing.”

“We didn’t bomb the UN,” Steve countered.

Natasha nodded minutely. “That turns a lot of heads.”

Sharon was staring at the ground, hand on her hip as she thought about it. “Yeah but that doesn’t guarantee that whoever framed him would get him. It guarantees that we would.”

There was a pause in which the words sunk in, then the four of them looked up at the screen showing Bucky’s cell, eyes widening in understanding.

“Yeah,” Steve said gravely as he stared at the image of the psychologist’s back.

As if on cue, the lights in the room flickered and died and the emergency lights turned on, bathing the room in a red glow. Sam perked up immediately but Natasha was out of her seat in an instant, looking at the people around her.

Steve turned in a slow circle before his gaze finally fell on Sharon.

She took one look at him and steeled herself. “Sub-level five, East Wing.”

Sam, Steve, and Natasha were headed for the door before she’d even finished talking.

Next Chapter

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[what-if-isimply-didntgive-ashit]

This weeds so sticky (First chapter repost, Tyrus au)

Making friends is hard.

Like seriously it shouldn’t be this hard. It shouldn’t be hard for two people or even a group of people to sit down and begin a friend ship. Especially if they have similar interests.

But of course like everything in life people have complications. Whatever they are they exist. And it seems like Saltwater had an overpopulation of people with the same kinds of complications.

Not really knowing what they were doing with their lives. Thus not knowing how to be welcoming figures in someone else’s.

That’s why we left. By we I mean me and my best friend’s, Lester and Reed. My name’s Tj and when I was 15 I joined a small motorcycle gang. Or well that’s a lie.. I started the gang, don’t tell Reed that though.

You see Reed, Lester, and me all had the same kind of complications, so we fit together like puzzle pieces. We’re the family we’ve never known in other’s. My dad died when I was just a kid, a fire the police had told my family. But for the little bit of time I knew my old man I knew he could trick a blind man into believing he could see.

Basically he could fake his own death easy.

I’ve never seen my mom cry in all the years I’ve been alive and that day had been no different. I remember standing outside her bedroom door on my tiptoes just trying to hear what wasn’t happening. Not a tear from her eyes. She’d been stone faced like she already knew the truth. My dad had left, not died.

Lester had a pretty sad childhood too. When he was four his dad knocked both his front teeth out. He always says he doesn’t remember what he did when asked but everyone knows he’s a liar. His mom had begun the process of divorcing his father which he didn’t take too kindly promptly running over the woman with his car. From there Lester was taken in by his aunt by ruling of the court and his father was put in jail.

But due to the absolute shit that is the Saltwater prison system, he managed to get out which made Lester all the more anxious and pushing, to get out of the little town we’ve reluctantly called “home”.

Reed is the only one out of the three of us who got through childhood pretty unscathed. When he was 15 his mom left his dad for another woman. They drove off into the sunset like newlyweds and his father went into a depression.

Somehow the news managed to pick this up though. Seeing as Saltwater is one of the most boring towns to have ever lived and nothing like this had really ever happened. His dad became the town “joke”. Reed didn’t care about his father’s pain at all honestly. He just hated the way it made him look.

He started getting into more fights and taking blows to what is his fragile cranium, because of moronic children screaming, “Your dad married a gay.” And “Your mom’s real reason for leaving was because your dad’s dick was too little.”

Reed never did like being taunted. He’s been in more fights then all of us. Well… Lester’s a fucking pussy so he’s only really ever been in one fight really.

But regardless we decided we were done with Saltwater life and we packed up, hitching a ride on our motorcycles to find a better life else where. Not like anyone will miss us. We were the only one’s there for each other.

I don’t really know how long we’ve been out here, or for that matter what town or city we plan on stopping in for good but we’re out here, and we have each other and that’s all that really matters.

“Reed you fucking bastard. Why is this weed sticky?!” I almost tossed it to the ground but decided against it.

We’d stopped for a moment behind an old abandoned looking building to smoke, I mean there aren’t really any cars around so it’s not like we’ll get caught. Besides hanging out with Reed for even an hour makes me wanna be high as fuck.

“I told you to carry it..” Lester interjected with a small shake of his head.

“Fuck did you do to it?”

“Bro I had to store it in a special place seeing as I don’t have fucking pockets and my bags full!” Reed announced

“The fuck did you bring?! You don’t have valuables!” Lester retorted gesturing at Reed’s bag.

“You know! Stuff! You never know what kinda stuff we could get into in a new place!”

He really is just the fucking worst.

“Bro why the fuck do you have condoms??!” I hadn’t even noticed Lester had moved until he was standing with a roll of Reed’s condoms plucked between his index finger and thumb.

“Put that back you little bitch!”

If they weren’t basically my brother’s, I’d ditch them here and now.

Reed practically launched himself at Lester in what could only be described as a ballerina type leap, grabbing for the condoms but completely missing as Lester switched hands at the last second. Almost dropping the roll from his carelessness, while pushing Reed away with one hand to the other boy’s chest.

“Will you two fucking stop! Let’s just fucking leave this is fucking garbage.” I remark tossing the sticky weed to the ground and throwing a leg over seating myself on my motorcycle.

“Thanks a lot Reed, now I gotta drive sober cause your ball sweat fucked up the good weed.” Lester commented moving towards his own motorcycle once he’d tossed the roll of condoms back to Reed.

“You suck so much dick, my ball sweat should be something you’re accustomed with.”

I shift my motorcycle out and back onto the road with no real warning driving slow enough that the two morons behind me can keep up even with a slow start.

“Yo Tj! Can we stop for some food! Regardless of not being completely baked I’m fucking hungry.” Lester suggested. He’s the only one out of the three of us stupid enough to ride without a helmet every now and then. Which is hilarious because we hang out with Reed.

I slow down to a point where crashing wouldn’t spill my brains out over the concrete and pull my helmet off my head. Sliding back to be between Reed and Lester.

“Have you seen a restaurant or anything in the last couple miles? Where do you plan on eating? Cause there hasn’t been much of civilization for the longest.”

“Luckily for you two I happen to know how many miles away the next restaurant is from us.” Reed announced, looking smug as shit for someone who didn’t know how to read maps only a year ago.

Lester raised an eyebrow. “You did research?”

“Someone had to. Or else we were going to end up dead before we made it past Saltwater’s fucking area code.”

“The fact that you know what an area code is is baffling.” Lester interjected.

“Shut up.” I said rolling my eyes at Lester. “Where’s our next rest stop?”

“This little place called Peachy keen? At least I think that’s how it was pronounced. That’s how I saw it online.”

“And at no point did you think to print out the map you got this off of?” Lester said, I shook my head squeezing the bridge of my nose with closed eyes.

Stupidity just keeps running off Reed and hitting innocent people.

I put my helmet back on my head, zooming forward thrusting my front wheel up into the air a bit but not before I hear Lester yell, “There are these things called libraries for people without printers!”

***

On my bike everywhere feels so much closer. It’s the only thing I had that I felt free whenever I was near. And alive when I was riding.

But today it felt like a fifteen hour ride just to finally find a place where we could sit down and get a meal. Especially with long intervals of, Reed calling out directions that ended up being completely fucking wrong, Lester arguing with Reed over Reed being completely fucking wrong, and me wanting to shoot my brains out because I’ve never been sober with these two for more than two hours.

Lester parked his bike first rushing in to grab a seat on the stool up front. Despite all their bickering the entire ride up here, Reed immediately joined him. Sitting down on the spinning red stool, promptly taking the menu from the plump waitress behind the counter.

Me. I need a break. A long break. So I sat myself down at a booth completely ignoring Reed and Lester when they called for me to join them.

I don’t need to actually sit with them to know what kind of conversation is gonna transpire. Lester going to probably order the most kiddie meal on the menu because he’s still a sperm cell. And Reed will make fun of him before ordering something he won’t be able to finish. Wasting food because he’s an over privileged moron.

Unlike 95% of Saltwater his family was considered wealthy in what would only be middle class in a good place. Before we left he emptied his dad’s bank account. Doesn’t really matter too much all things considered. His dad had three bank accounts including the one he emptied. That man will be fine with the money he still has left, probably better now that we’ve taken one of his problems away.

The waitresses here are surprisingly fast and nice, I didn’t have to wait too long before I got a menu.

Though it didn’t really help me much once I actually did have one.

I know what I want. What I really want is a burger and fries. But this diner seems to think it’s a good idea to mix in non English words with each option on the menu..

The fuck is a, “sweet petite poisson”

I take in the rest of the diner gazing over people with things, I definitely don’t want on their plates. A curly haired male and what looks like his new girlfriend judging by all the French kissing they’re currently doing sharing a plate of onion rings. A man seated not too far away from Reed who’s currently crying over a plate of mashed potatoes and what looks like steak. And an older man seated as far away from anything else happening in the restaurant as anyone could possibly be. Looking as though he’s plotting a couple murders with the way he’s poking his food with his fork.

I pull my gaze away looking behind me to the next booth where a lone kid sits. He’s wearing a hood that looks more comfy then anything I’ve ever owned back home, with what looks like a blue plaid shirt underneath. He has soft looking brown hair, and his doe eyes are focused on the burger and fries sitting with a very untouched look to them, as if he ordered without realizing he wasn’t hungry.

“Hey. Kid.” I call out and he flinches looking up at me. And suddenly I feel like I accidentally kicked a puppy.

I stand up moving around to sit across from him in the booth. He drops the fork as he takes in what’s happening like he’s witnessing a tornado first hand.

“Sorry to bother you. I just wanted to know how you ordered a burger and fries.” His eyes flicker over my jacket before falling to the table and I almost repeat my question after the long silence. He pushes the plate in front of him away placing the fork he was holding next to his spoon where it lay on a napkin.

“You.. Can have it.. I’m not really hungry..” His eyes flicker up again before falling just as quickly back to the table. He’s so small. And he looks fragile. Kinda like Lester did when we first met.

I stare at the burger in front of me before shaking my head. “Don’t you want it? You ordered it..”

He shook his head so fast I thought he was gonna fly out of the booth. “No, I’m not hungry. Honest. Please just take it.”

If the food didn’t look so untouched and I wasn’t as hungry as I am I might have fought him on it a little harder. Instead I just grabbed the ketchup at the corner of the booth.

“Thanks kid.”

He didn’t nod, didn’t flinch, like he did when I first sat down just continued to stare at the table.

I feel like I’m in too deep to go back to where I was sitting so against everything I’ve ever done in Saltwater I said, “No offense but where are your parents? Or anyone that loves you? You seem really young to be out here in the middle of nowhere like this.”

I say young despite what I really wanted to say which was “babyish”

“It’s not important.” He claims squeezing the fingers he was holding together like he’d just lied to me.

Now I’m definitely more curious. “I mean.. You look like a rich kid. I just assumed someone like you would be surrounded by people you love, who love you.”

He cocked his head up squinting like I’d asked him a personal question. “I’m not a rich kid. This hoodie only costs 75 bucks.”

And yet that’s still more money than my mom has spent on me in a year.

“Besides, I chose to be alone. I don’t want to be with anyone who loves me.” He remarks using air quotes around loves me.

“If you don’t mind me asking why is that?” His hand falls to the zipper on his hood pulling it up and down while his eyes jump back to me from the table. “You don’t have to tell me. But we’re both here, and we’re both strangers.. I have no one to spill your secrets to.”

He raised an eyebrow pointing with his nose to Lester and Reed who were paying no attention to our conversation, idiotically throwing fries at each other.

“I’m not telling them shit. They’re fucking idiots anyway they don’t listen to me.” A hint of a smirk flexed at the ends of his mouth and he turned to me fully.

“Cyrus.”

“Huh?”

“That’s my name!” He said with a playful eye roll.

“Oh. Oh! Tj!” I announce pointing to my chest.

He giggled in the softest way possible and I swear every other noise in the room disappeared.

“Nice to meet you Tj.” Now he was fully smiling and I couldn’t help but grin back. His hand came down from where it was still wrapped around his zipper to fall on the table. “Sorry about that. I just never talk to people about things if I don’t know their name.”

I shrugged, “Don’t worry about it.”

He let out a deep sigh fingering the table. His eyes transfixed on the light brown wood. “I live in the city.” Cyrus began nodding towards the window as he spoke. “Aliayas just a couple miles that way.” He informed me.

I already had an image of the place in my head as though I’d been there prior. It already had beautiful blue lakes and streets so clean you could eat of them. Even if that wasn’t the case any place had to look better then Saltwater.

“I was.. feeling a little stressed out.. what with… Stuff.. happening in my life.”

“Why what happened?” I ask popping a fry into my mouth.

He shakes his head with a smile. “We just met.”

I nod even though for some reason I feel disappointed he won’t tell me. He’s nothing like anyone I’ve ever met before, in a good way.

“You don’t have to tell me.” Cyrus begins, does brown eyes locked onto me. “But.. What happened with you? I mean.. I watched you and your friends pull up here. And I was nervous because of the-” he gestures to my entire body with both hands before reaching up to scratch the back of his head. “You know… I kinda wanna understand.. Pretty much everything.” He finishes with a defeated sigh.

Now I’m laughing in a way I hadn’t since Reed tried to skinny dip in Saltwater Lake after the winter blizzard. “I’m apart of a motorcycle gang.” I explain breaking off to take a bit of the hamburger. “And those two dickheads, are my best friends they have been since we were kids. We all escaped from the absolute nightmare that is the town of Saltwater.”

“Wait.. Is that the town with the gay mom that left her husband?..”

“Shhh!!!” I laugh and so does Cyrus as we both lean closer I whisper, “That was Reed’s mom. Don’t let him know you know about that!”

I’m pretty shocked that news the news was noteworthy enough to travel outside of Saltwater but we live in a time of the Internet so maybe I shouldn’t.

“What’s wrong with having a gay mom?” Cyrus remarks with another soft giggle.

“Absolutely nothing but it’s a long story and Reed doesn’t take it well.”

Cyrus nodded doing the absolute worse job of trying to pull a straight face. “I’m not laughing anymore.” He exclaims covering his mouth with his hand. Once he’s finally gotten himself together he pushes his hands out on the table “So why’re you all the way out here with them? Looking for a break from stress too?”

“Aren’t you asking too many questions for someone who didn’t want to answer me earlier?”

He puts two hands up “Fine, far enough.” I pop another fry into my mouth as he turns his head peering out the surprisingly clean windows. “Which one’s your’s?” He asks pointing to the bikes parked out front.

I tilt my head even though I already know without looking which one belongs to me. “You saw me pull up. Remember.”

“So the one in the middle.”

I don’t know whether he’s sly or perky.

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“Motorcycles are so dangerous. I mean aren’t you afraid you’ll fall off?”

I smirk at him, “They’re just faster bikes. Have you ever ridden one before.”

His mouth hangs open for a second as he looks from me to my motorcycle parked out front and back to me again. He’s practically standing up where he’s at in the booth. “I.. Mean.. No.. It looks so cool.. But the part of me that likes living prevails over my curiosity.”

I let out a smooth laugh and he plops back down into the booth. “Smart. How about.. I let you ride mine.”

“Wh-wh-”

“Don’t freak out! I know we just met but I wouldn’t let you fall. It’s freeing and easy. And if you don’t let yourself try you’ll never know that feeling.”

He nibbles on his bottom lip before taking in his watch which looks like it costs about the same as my motorcycle. “Oh my god! It’s that late!” He yelps jumping up from the table. I move with him, eyebrows falling as I go. “My god! I’m sorry Tj I gotta go!”

He rushes to the door but not before slapping down a tip of more money then my mom makes in 4 weeks. “If you’re ever in Aliayas. Come find me.” He informs and with that he’s gone.

I take in the sight of him running to a black car just out front and in a couple minutes it’s sliding onto the road smoothly and just out of reach of this diner.

I don’t know how but Reed and Lester managed to sneak up on me. As loud as Reed is in everything that he does it makes me jolt even harder when he comes up directly behind me, with a hand on my shoulder.

“So who’s your boyfriend?”

I barely register if it was Reed or Lester who asked as I reply simply, “Cyrus.”

Reposting the first chapter of This weeds so sticky, you can go read the whole thing here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17198819/chapters/40439861

[gsmarling]

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” Advika leaned forward to press another kiss on her boyfriend’s lips. Sam smiled lightly and pulled her closer to him from where she was standing in the doorway.

“Does that mean you don’t have to go?” She looked at her watch and sighed.

“No, no I do. I’m working at the library tonight, so I’ll be home late.” She gently pulled away from his embrace and stepped into the hallway of their apartment building. He planted one last kiss on her forehead and grinned.

“I’ll see you when you get home. Love you.” He leaned against the doorway and waved. She tossed a bright smile over her shoulder as she made her way to the stairs.

“Love you too!”

The evening air was cold and Advika wrapped her coat around herself tightly as she approached the library where she worked after school. It was finals week and she was already feeling exhausted from her classes, and dreading the hours of studying in her future. But for now she got to enjoy the warm and quiet of the library. She dropped her coat and purse in the small employee break room, then began her work. She set about organizing books, reshelving volumes that had been left on tables, and cataloguing titles. She milled up and down the rows, quietly answering the questions of the many students who were frantically studying. Soon the minutes bled into hours and before she knew it, it was time to head home. Yawning, she pulled on her coat and swung her messenger bag over her shoulder. The weight of her schoolbooks reminded her of the mountains of homework that her professors had assigned, and she yawned again. She opened the door to the library and the cold air hit her like a train, the icy wind causing her black hair to whip around her. She shivered and tried to shrink into her coat. In the time she’d been working it had snowed, and the ground was a hazardous mix of ice and snow that had been walked and driven over to the point that it was dirty slush. She sighed, it was going to be a long walk to the subway.

Advika climbed the stairs from the subway station, and once again shivered. It was fully dark out by this point, so she let muscle memory guide her along the path to her apartment building. Something hit the top of her head and melted into her hair. It had started to snow. She muttered a few curses under her breath and ducked her head against the wind, hurrying her steps. She arrived at her apartment covered in a light dusting of snow. She fished her keys out of her bag, stepped into the slightly warmer building and began climbing the stairs. As she approached her floor, an uneasy chill that had nothing to do with the weather came over her. She tried to shake it off and started down the hallway. She stopped dead when she saw the blood. Small droplets were scattered in a haphazard line towards the door of her apartment. That uneasy chill deepened and she cautiously approached the door. It was ajar, the doorframe around the lock broken and splintered. She eased the door open, and carefully made her way into the apartment. A sob tore from her as she surveyed the room. Sam lay on his back in the kitchen, a pool of blood surrounding him. Her sob turned into a scream as she fell to her knees and cradled his head in her arms. The room began to spin and she was only dimly aware of her surroundings, her half screams half sobs sounding as if they came from miles away. He was her world, and he lay dead in her arms. Anger, grief, and despair crashed over her in a disorienting wave of emotions. She screamed until her throat was hoarse, and after that she just sat, rocking back and forth, still holding Sam’s body. She lost all track of time, it could’ve been hours or minutes, until another silhouette darkened the doorway. Advika looked up, meeting pure-black eyes, as a thin, skeletal hand reached out and took her by her throat. She gasped for air, one hand scrambling in vain at the fingers around her throat, the other desperately searching through her bag for anything to defend herself. She grasped the small pocket knife that was attached to her keychain and drove it into the side of the figure holding her. The fingers around her throat tightened in surprise, and her attacker let out a chuckle. A harsh, dark sound that seemed to claw its way from his throat. The figure lifted her up and pushed her against the wall, giving her a clearer view of the man, no, the creature, that still had its long nails digging into her neck. It was pale and thin, with malice filled black eyes staring at her from a gaunt face. And it was covered in blood. Sam’s blood. Advika’s blood ran cold as the figure leaned in closer. A flash of movement, pain, and the world went dark.

Cold hands were touching her face. Advika jerked awake and immediately batted the hands away. Her vision was blurry and there was a horrible shooting pain in her neck. Gingerly she raised herself into a sitting position from where she had crumpled on the floor.

“Take it easy.” A cool voice sounded from somewhere in front of her. She opened her mouth to try to speak, but ended up having a coughing fit instead. She tasted metal, and when she wiped her mouth the back of her hand came back smeared with red. She coughed again, spitting blood into the tiled kitchen floor. Her vision slowly focused, and she located the person who had spoken. A woman dressed in all white, at least what used to be all white, it was now splattered with red, was leaning against the kitchen counter. She was tall and lithe, her platinum blonde hair pulled up into a bun. She wore a mask that covered the bottom half of her face, and round tinted glasses. The strangest thing about her appearance, though, was the sharpened wooden dagger she was twirling through her hands. Like everything else in the room, it was stained a dark crimson.

“Who are you?” Advika rasped. The figure stopped twirling the dagger and looked down at Advika.

“I’m Talitha.”

“What are you doing in my kitchen?”

“Until about five minutes ago, I was killing him.” Talitha reached out a foot and nudged the corpse laying on the floor. Advika choked and lunged towards it.

“Sam-” She came up short when she realized that it wasn’t Sam’s body that Talitha was gesturing towards, but the creature that had attacked her earlier. Its mouth was frozen open in a snarl, and Advika saw that its canines were sharp and pointed. Her mind started to spin, refusing to believe what she was seeing. The edges of her vision got dark again and she reached out to find something to steady herself. Talitha stepped forward, took her hand, and hauled her to her feet, pulling Advika’s arm over her shoulder. Panic continued to course through Advika as she unsteadily leaned against Talitha, who regarded her quietly.

“We need to talk.”

Advika shakily wrapped her hands around a cup of steaming tea that sat on the table in front of her. Talitha leaned back in her chair across the table, quietly noting Advika’s every move. It took all of Advika’s willpower to not glance over to where both Sam and the creature’s bodies had been covered with a sheet. Instead, she forced herself to meet Talitha’s unwavering gaze. Talitha raised her eyebrows.

“Do you have questions?”

“Of course I do. Starting with why we haven’t called the police. I have two dead—,” Advika choked on the word, “I have two dead bodies in my kitchen.” Talitha shook her head sharply.

“No police. No family. No friends. No one can know. Do you understand me?”

“No! I really don’t, and I would appreciate it if you would actually explain this.” Advika gestured frantically at the room. Talitha sighed, removing her glasses. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. When she opened her eyes to meet Advika’s gaze, her eyes were solid obsidian.

“You’re a vampire.”

“I don’t even know how to respond to that.” Advika laughed mirthlessly. Talitha said nothing, she just reached up and removed the mask that covered her nose and mouth, and bared her teeth. Revealing the sharp canines in the front of her mouth.

“You have them too.” Advika sharply became aware of the pain in her neck, and in her mouth. She recalled the blood that had been smeared across the creature’s mouth. Her mind started to connect the dots, despite the fact that those dots were impossible. Cautiously, she ran her tongue over her teeth. And was met with fangs.

After another crisis that was triggered by Advika’s discovery of fangs, and a lot of frantic questioning that was met with calm answers from Talitha, Advika cautiously accepted Talitha’s claim. She was a vampire. And she had questions.

“Blood. Do we…” she hesitated, “drink it? From...humans?” She once again had to make an effort to not look at Sam’s body.

“Yes. Since your heart can no longer pump blood through your system you need to drink it as a sort of supplement. But not human blood. We get our supply from butchers mostly.”

“So if you, we, don’t drink human blood, then why did this happen.” Advika jerked her head in the direction of her kitchen.

“Human blood is like a drug. Vampires get addicted, to the point where it drives them insane.”

“Then it’s possible to live...normally? As a vampire?” Talitha hmmed her agreement.

“There’s an entire underground community. An aboveground one too. You can have a normal job, you can have a family.” Talitha’s eyes shuttered briefly. “If you can accept that you’ll outlive them.”

“What about the lore? Sunlight, crosses, garlic, wooden stakes?”

“Sunlight is a myth, made up for the movies. Think of garlic like an allergy. Crosses have centuries of wards and magic attached, those have the capacity to hurt you. Wooden stakes will kill just about anyone, but magic clings to symbolism, and magic kills us.” Talitha flipped her wooden dagger in her hands a couple times, then slid it into one of the many pockets on her jacket.

“Why?” Advika didn’t expand her question but Talitha understood.

“I hunt them. Vampires who get addicted to human blood and start attacking them, I hunt them.” Advika didn’t respond, she simply stood and walked to where Sam’s body lay on the floor. She dropped to the ground, kneeling beside him she lifted the sheet off of his face. She gently closed his eyes, then reached for the thin chain that hung around his neck. Unclasping it, she regarded the small gold cross hanging on the chain. Taking a steadying breath, she clasped it around her own neck, tucking the pendant under her shirt. The second the cross came in contact with her skin, it burned. She bit back the pain and stood up. Talitha stared at her, a look of mild surprise on her face. Advika turned around and met Talitha’s black obsidian eyes with a pair of her own.

“Teach me.”

Advika opened her eyes, the remnants of the memory still curling around the edges of her mind. That had been years ago, and she’d spent the time since traveling with Talitha training, becoming strong. And hunting. Her phone buzzed from where it sat on the café table in front of her. A text from Talitha read: Two alleys down. Get there now. Advika rose from her seat, and started down the road, melting into the shadows created by the setting sun. When she reached the entry of the second alley, she heard a scream. She drew a carved wooden dagger from her belt and turned into the alley.

“Hello there.” Her greeting was directed towards the man in front of her who was slowly approaching a young girl curled in the corner. He stopped in his tracks and turned to face her.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t interfere. I’m trying to have a meal.” He gestured lazily to the girl behind him.

“I’m afraid I can’t let that happen.” She reached up and removed the veil that covered her mouth, and smiled, canines glinting in the dying evening light.

“Well I’m afraid that you can’t do anything about it.” He reached a gloved hand into his coat pocket and withdrew an ornate cross and held it aloft. Her smile turned feral, her eyes glittering cold and black. She pulled down the collar of her shirt, revealing the cross that hung around her neck, and the scarred skin that lay beneath. A reminder of all she had lost.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” Advika angled her dagger and lunged.

[mymelodyheart]

Starting Over Chapter 7 ~The Homecoming~

Jamie felt Claire slipping away. Immobile and expressionless, she sat looking out the window clutching the damn newspaper, and he wished he could yank it away from her and burn it. He would rather have her anger, exasperation or impatience any day. But he got nothing. Not a word. She was completely removed from the present. He was tempted to turn the car around and head for Skye. Or drag her out of the car and give her a good shake. Or slam on the brakes really hard. Maybe, if he did any of those, he would be able to elicit a reaction. 

Instead, he turned the music louder, drove on and closed in on their destination - Edinburgh.

He'd phoned Joe and Geillis earlier to let them know they were on their way and then Claire had called Frank right after. To his relief, Frank didn't answer. Her awkward voice mail message had been disconcerting, and he had a niggling feeling, Frank's stranglehold and control over Claire were more serious than he thought. Her hand had shaken, and she'd stuttered as she spoke. In the short time he had known her, he'd caught a glimpse of a fiercely independent woman - stubborn, funny and passionate. The woman sat next to him was just an empty shell of her former self, and it made him angry Frank had caused it.

They reached Edinburgh at around two a.m, and Claire directed him to her address, a charming wee terraced traditional cottage in the outskirts of the city. He was just easing his car into the driveway when he heard Claire gasp.

Jamie followed the direction of her gaze. On her front door, the word whore was spray-painted in red. Muttering a curse, he immediately cut off the engine and jumped out. "Stay here, Sassenach." 

He used the flashlight from his phone to scour the vicinity in case someone was lurking around. When he was satisfied the perimeter of the garden was secure, he helped Claire out of the car. "It's safe. We'll deal with the paint in the morning. Let's get ye inside."

Too rattled and exhausted, Claire simply nodded and staggered out. Jamie thought of taking her to his apartment where no one would know of her whereabouts, but knowing there's always the odd reporter or two lurking outside the building he lived in, he would be taking the risk of getting their picture taken. 

Reminded of the repercussions of being recognised, he quickly gathered their things and followed her. "Yer place is sparse. Almost empty," he observed, looking around once they were inside. Although the cottage was small, it had been lovingly decorated with a mishmash of vintage furniture and fittings. The fireplace in the lounge and the exposed wooden floor gave it a homely feeling and added to its quaint charm.

"Most of my stuff is in Frank's apartment. I was planning on renting this place out, but he wanted me to put it on the market after we got engaged."

"Good thing ye haven't." He wondered if the reason Claire hadn't sold was that she had sensed something wasn't right between her and Frank. Without a doubt, having her own place had given her a fallback plan.

"I stood my ground on this one. It's a gift from my uncle when I started my internship. He thought I would be better off having a place of my own when my friends began to hang around his apartment. He prefers his peace and quiet, you see."

They stood there for a while, looking at each other, uncertain what to say next. Fearing for Claire's safety, Jamie didn't want to leave, but he wasn't sure if she would want him to stay. The surging possessiveness he was feeling was a novelty and way out of his comfort zone, and he had no clue how to deal with it.

When she let out a big yawn and swayed on her feet, awareness suddenly caught up with him. Taking her by the elbow, he ushered her to the bedroom. "Come, let's get ye to bed. I'm guessing Geillis and Joe will be here first thing in the morning." 

She nodded and allowed him to make the bed for her after finding some sheets in the wardrobe. Once she was settled in, he loosened her ponytail, sat on the bedside and pushed the unruly locks from her forehead. "Sleep now Sassenach and dinna fash about anything. Tomorrow will come soon enough. I'll be in the living room if ye need anything from me."

With a sigh, he stood up to leave, but her hand tugged his. "Jamie, I know it sounds daft but can you please stay with me? I'm scared." Her face reflected a child-like trust that made his heart squeeze. "I think I'd sleep better when I know you're here ...beside me.

Her face was pale, and her lips trembled, and she looked so vulnerable and tiny against the layers of pillows. Jamie didn't want to leave her like this. "Aye, of course," he smiled. She watched him with sleepy eyes toe off his shoes and lay down beside her. When he was settled, he turned her to her side and drew her back against him, soaking in her delicious warmth and softness. Her scent of soap swamped his senses, and it was so very unlike the expensive fragrances that he was used to. Though he'd had love affairs in the past, it was his first time to lie next to someone in a simple act of offering comfort, and the first time he was staying in someone else's bed for the whole night. For some reason that's unbeknownst to him, he liked the idea of just holding her close.

When Claire shimmied closer, he mentally cursed and held his breath. He tried to focus on his breathing and on images that didn't involve Claire, hoping to abate his growing arousal. It was a good thing he'd kept his clothes on, but unfortunately, sleep came too slowly.

..........

Claire woke up to incessant loud banging on her door. Muddled, she shot out of bed. It took her a few seconds for her brain to clear. When the banging resumed, her heart lurched and started to hammer.  Jamie is gone. What if there are reporters at the door?

Hunkering down, she crawled on all fours to her living room and peeked out of the window. She almost screamed when she saw Joe's and Geillis' face peering back at her.  Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!

"Hey, sweetheart, it's us ...let us in."

She fumbled with the door lock and flung it open. Shortly, she was enveloped in tight hugs and kisses, almost knocking her back. All the pent up emotions from the last few days came crashing down, making her burst into tears. Whispering soothing words, Joe and Geillis led her to the sofa and waited until she was spent from crying.

"See, what did I tell ye, Joe?" Geillis huffed, springing to her feet and waving her hands in the air. "I knew something was wrong. That fancy-pants, stuck-up, pompous prick was playing the reporters and making it look like he's the victim. I never trusted him."

"But I left him in the altar," Claire hiccuped, wiping the tears with the back of her hand. "Frank didn't deserve that. No one deserves that."

"Look at me, Claire." Geillis gripped her shoulders. "We've known for some time that something was wrong. Ever since Frank came into the picture, ye started to see less and less of us, and ye always made excuses. Lame excuses. And ye're a terrible liar, have I told ye that? Anyway, when we did see ye, ye almost always looked withdrawn, stressed and tired. Ye didn't look happy at all. And when Frank was around, he never acknowledged us. It's almost like he abhorred us. I had a sneaking suspicion, he was trying to isolate ye from yer support system, so he can have full control over ye."

The truth slammed into her like a sledgehammer, knocking the breath out of her lungs. "But I humiliated Frank by running away. How could I be so daft? Now the whole city loathes me. Did you see that vandalism on my door?"

Joe patted her knee. "We saw. I'm so sorry you had to see that. But you did the right thing not going ahead with the marriage. You must have known it for some time, but you were afraid to admit it to yourself. I just wished that you knew sooner. You could have broken your neck jumping out of the window. Good thing Jamie was there to catch you."

"Speaking of Jamie, where is he? When I get my hands on him, I will wring his ..."

The door suddenly opened. "I'm right here, and ye must be Geillis." Casually, Jamie walked in, deposited the paper bags on the table and offered his hand for a handshake.

Geillis ignored it and glared at him. "I'm pissed off with ye. Ye turned off yer bloody phone! Why the bloody hell did ye do that? We were sae worried!"

He shrugged and approached Joe. "Hey, mate. Good to see ye." They slapped each other's back in the act of camaraderie before Jamie turned his attention back to Geillis. "I took good care of yer friend, and I assured ye she was fine. Please tell her that, Sassenach."

"Ye calling her Sassenach?" Geillis harumphed, her hands flying to her waist and chin jutting out at him in indignance. "What a bloody cheek!"

Joe ducked and shook his head, and Claire pinched the bridge of her nose. "Geillis, it's alright. It's a pet name. He doesn't mean any offence. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have gotten far." Geillis' glare didn't wane, but she stopped talking long enough for Claire to notice something odd about Jamie. "Why are you wearing a hoodie on a warm day like today? Are you coming down with a cold or something?"

Grinning, Jamie tugged the front of his top. "Ach this? It's a disguise. Dinna want to be recognised out there."

"Too late, buddy," Joe sighed, whipping out the newspaper he had with him. "Someone recognised you at the restaurant last night and took a photo of both of you."

"What?!? Let me see that." Claire grabbed the paper and skimmed the page. Sure enough, the headline screamed Dr Randall's Runaway Bride and former Rugby Union Star James Fraser Looking Scrummy At Romantic Seaside Location. Under the caption was a photo of Jamie holding her hand and she was smiling back at him. "Oh, dear God, it's not what it looks like."

Jamie peered over Claire's shoulder, and Joe continued. "It was posted initially on Instagram. The internet had been buzzing all night with speculations. The good news ...you're trending on Twitter and the bad news ... the waiter confirmed to a reporter that it was you with Claire. The proof was in your credit card receipt. Problem is ... he might have exaggerated a bit with his account of the story. By the way, what were you thinking, Jamie? With your red hair and your muckle size, haven't you realised yet that you stand out like a sore thumb?"

"Fuck!" He dragged in a breath and knelt down in front of Claire, taking her hands in his. "Christ, Sassenach, I'm sae sorry. I'll make this right. Whatever it takes. I can arrange a press conference, and I'll set the record straight."

"Why would ye want to do that?" Geillis interrupted. "Ye don't owe anyone any explanation. It's quite apparent Claire didn't want to marry Frank. Joe would have done the same as ye did if he knew Claire was planning to run away. If ye arrange that press conference thingy, it will look like ye're being defensive. Unless of course, something happened between the two of ye."

"Of course, nothing happened," Jamie fumed. "All we did was talk these last couple of days. And yesterday, when we arrived, Claire got scairt after she saw the scrawling on her door, which is understandable. So I stayed behind, and we cuddled until she fell asleep." Realising he'd explained far too much, the colour drained from his face and gave Claire an apologetic shrug.

Joe and Geillis shared a look. "Just cuddled? Joe asked.

"Aye just cuddled. What do ye take yer friend for? Or me?"

Geillis looked at Claire, tapping her finger against her lips. "Why are ye blushing then?"

Claire groaned, burying her face in her hands. The memory of Jamie holding her close last night was branded into her brain. She had woken sometime during the night to find her head resting on his chest and his arm lying heavily across her waist. His breathing and heartbeats had relaxed her so much she had gone back to sleep even though she knew she should have untangled herself. "I blush all the time," she answered in a muffled voice. 

Geillis cocked her head at Jamie. "Weel, whatever happened or didn't happen, ye made it worse by not tipping the waiter. According to the article, ye were stingy and didn't give a tip. Maybe if ye had the sense to tip, he wouldn't have outed ye." 

"You didn't tip? That's piss-poor, Jamie," Joe whistled, shaking his head.

"The eedjit didnae deserve a tip. The waiter looked right smug when he recognised Claire. I should've boxed his ears."

Joe rolled his eyes. "Yeah but you're a minor celebrity, and there will always be someone who will recognise you. That waiter has really painted you in a bad light in retaliation to your threat."

"And maybe if ye hadnae switched off yer phone, this..."

Ah, shit!  "Stop!" Claire exploded, jumping to her feet, causing everyone to still and stare at her. "Please just stop! I appreciate what you're all trying to do. And really, I'm forever grateful for everything you've done for me. But this is my mess. I've brought this upon myself, and I will fix it. So please stop bickering. It's no one's fault but mine. First off, I'm going to see my uncle after I've had my coffee and then I will see Frank. As for the press, well, I will deal with it myself. And I hope eventually they'll tire of me and move on to the next big news."

Joe's face softened. "I'm so sorry sweetheart. Would you like us to come with you?"

She shook her head and offered a weak smile. "No, thank you, that won't be necessary. You all got your own life to deal with. I'll be fine. I promise."

"Are ye sure, hen? I don't want ye to be alone with Frank when ye talk to him. He's a manipulator," Geillis said, pulling her in for an embrace.

"I'm definitely sure. I'll keep in touch, I promise. Speaking of which, were you able to retrieve my phone?"

"Aye, I hid it before Frank could find it." Geillis pulled away from Claire to retrieve the phone from her bag. "Here ... ye have over a hundred missed calls from him. But I still think ye shouldnae speak to Frank alone."

"Geillis, I have to do this myself. If I'm in trouble, I'll let you know." She swiped the screen on her phone and took a swift glance. Seeing all the unanswered messages and missed calls, she quickly switched it off.  " Frank might be controlling, but he's not a monster. He won't lay a finger on me. That's not him."

"But ..."

"I'll go with her," Jamie announced, crossing his arms across his chest.

Claire's head snapped, and she stared at him. "No, you will not. Your own family must have seen the paper. You'll have your own explaining to do with them."

"Aye, that's true, but I owe yer uncle an explanation first. Technically, I'm involved now. My photo and my name are on that paper too."

Although his stance was relaxed, Claire knew deep down, Jamie wasn't going to budge. He had that look she'd seen before. And right now, all she wanted was the morning to start moving along and getting her life back together, and arguing with him would further delay that. Sighing, she squeezed her eyes shut and conceded. "Fine. But no meddling."

Grinning, Jamie gave Joe a high five. "No meddling," he repeated, as he retreated slowly, walking backwards as if afraid of a change of heart. "Weel, if that's it, I'll prepare breakfast, and ye can get ready. Joe, Geillis, I'll see ye around." With that, he quickly spun around and headed for the kitchen.

Claire could feel her friends' questioning eyes on her, as the sound of slamming cupboard doors and rushing water from the sink drifted in the air.

"Hmmm, Jamie looks quite at home, don't ye think?" Geillis noted, crossing her arms and cocking an eyebrow at her.

"Very," Joe agreed, steering Geillis towards the door. "Let's go, sweetpea. Claire is in good hands. There's not much we can do now. See you around, Beauchamp!" Before they stepped out, Joe called out to his friend. "Jamie?"

"Aye?"

"No hanky-panky, alright, mate?"

Claire groaned.

A kettle banged on the hob. "What sort of person do ye think I am?" came a retort from the kitchen.

"You're James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser, that's what." 

"Bugger off!"

Then the door shut.

Claire burst out laughing. She realised how much she'd missed her friends - all their teasing, taunts and all the love radiating underneath. How she'd made it this long without them was beyond her. And who would have thought, James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser, of all people, would one day be standing in her kitchen, happily making her breakfast. She shook her head in disbelief. 

With lightness in her heart and smile on her lips, she went to her bedroom to get ready to face the day.

..........

Jamie glanced at Claire. She was biting her lip and fidgeting on her feet as she pressed the button to her uncle Lamb's apartment.

A deep voice answered. "Yes?"

Unconsciously, she squared her shoulders and tilted her chin up as if preparing herself for battle. Clearing her throat, she spoke out loud and clear. "Uncle, it's me, Claire."

"Oh, yes, dear, come in." The intercom buzzed, and Jamie pushed open the main entrance door to the building.

"Ye ready, Sassenach?"

Big beautiful amber eyes held his gaze for a few seconds, and she nodded. He was beginning to learn the subtle signs of what's going through her head, and he knew she was trying to mask her nervousness. Grabbing her hand, he winked at her. "It'll be fine."

She nodded and smiled feebly at him.

When they made it to the second floor, the door to Claire's uncle's apartment swung open, and there stood a tall, lean man in his early fifties. His hair was thick with a salt and pepper tint, and it looked like he'd dragged his hand several times through it. A reading glass was perched on top of his head and his eyes, although tired-looking, were the same amber colour as Claire's. He was wearing grey slacks, and a crinkled white button-down shirt with its sleeves rolled up to his elbow.

"Hello, dear. I wasn't expecting you this soon." He hugged Claire briefly as if the gesture was a rare occurrence between them. Despite the awkward display, there was warmth and affection in the older man's eyes. Shifting his attention, his gaze turned to Jamie. "And you're the famous, James Fraser. I'm Quentin ...Quentin Beauchamp. So pleased to finally make your acquaintance," he smiled warmly and shook his hand.

"The pleasure is mine," Jamie replied, noting the strong firm grip on the handshake.

Claire began making a move to enter the apartment. "Uncle, I'm terribly sorry for everything ..." 

Uncle Lamb raised a hand and shook his head. "It's alright, dear. There is a more pressing matter awaiting you in the lounge. Frank is here."

Just as Frank's name was mentioned and before she could react, Claire's ex-fiance appeared. "Claire, is that you? Thank God you're safe. I stopped by to check on your uncle. I had no idea you would be here." Ignoring Jamie, he stepped in front of her and gathered her in his arms.

"Frank, what are you doing?" Claire pushed against his chest and almost stumbled back. Jamie was all ready to grab him by the scruff of his neck if he didn't let go. "Is this some sort of mind game? You've never visited my uncle before. So why now?"

Frank cleared his throat and took her hand in his. "Can we please talk? In private?" he pleaded.

There was a long moment of silence, and it seemed to stretch for an eternity. Jamie didn't like it one bit that Frank was holding her hand, and he had to fight the urge to yank her away from the other man's reach. 

"Fine, we'll talk," Claire finally replied. "The sooner we get this over with, the better." Without looking at Jamie, she followed Frank to the lounge and closed the door behind them.

Jamie wanted to follow them, but he knew if he did that, he would be taking the decision away from Claire. He understood she wanted to do this on her own and he would give her that, but no way in hell was he letting her leave with Frank.

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted. "Well, Jamie, would you like to keep me company in the kitchen?" Quentin proposed, gesturing for him to follow. "I was about to make a pot of beef broth earlier when Frank called in unexpectedly."

"Um, how about Claire? Don't ye think we should stay here in case something happened?" he asked, jerking his thumb at the closed door.

Quentin didn't seem bothered. "She'll be fine. Come along now."

Hesitantly, Jamie followed the older man to the kitchen, and his gaze landed on the stand-alone butcher's block next to the island counter. It had some raw beef bone marrow waiting to be hacked. Settling himself on the stool, he watched Quentin put on an apron and pull out a massive cleaver from a drawer.

"So, Jamie, how does a famous former rugby player such as yourself come to know of my niece?" Quentin asked. The amber eyes that so reminded him of Claire's were looking back at him with severe intensity. Whack!  Jamie jumped with a start. The cleaver came down hard on the beef bone without warning, the older man's gaze never leaving his.

He blinked in astonishment and looked at the cleaver nervously. Claire and Joe had told him often enough that uncle Lamb was sweet, easy-going and laidback, but looking at him now, he wasn't entirely sure if they'd been talking about the same man. Whack!  His mind started to race, and the palms of his hands moistened.  What the fuck?  Adrenaline pumping and senses on high alert, he quickly realised that the man before him was not someone to be trifled with and that he had his work cut out in convincing Quentin that his intention with Claire was ...was ...exactly what?  Whack!

[madstars-festival]

A GALLERY OF GRAND PRIX OF THE YEAR WINNERS SINCE 2008

This week, we celebrate over a decade’s worth of AD STARS Grand Prix of the Year winners, which each won US$10,000 at the annual AD STARS Awards.

When the first AD STARS Awards were held in 2018, the festival set out to create a new paradigm in the creative industries: a show that’s free to enter and supports creators with two $10,000 cash prizes every year. We want creators all over the world – whether they’re students or start-ups or agencies with limited award budgets – to have a forum where they can share their work, and inspire the world.

As Suthisak Sucharittanonta, Chairman & Chief Creative Officer at BBDO Bangkok explained while judging AD STARS 2017: “To win Grand Prix of the Year, the standard has to be very, very outstanding. It not only takes the brand to another level but also takes our ad industry to new heights.”

We hope you enjoy our gallery of previous AD STARS Grand Prix of the Year winners:

2010 - BBDO/Proximity (Malaysia) 2011 - Tokyu Agency Inc. (Japan) 2012 - Hakuhodo Inc. (Japan) 2013 – Cheil Worldwide (Korea) 2014 – Dentsu (Japan) and Forsman & Bodenfors (Sweden) 2015 - Leo Burnett (North America) 2016 - Y&R (New Zealand) 2017 - Colenso BBDO (New Zealand) 2018 - Fitzco//McCann (USA) 2019 - FCB New York (USA)

2019

Agency: FCB New York Client: Burger King Campaign: ‘The Whopper Detour’

The Whopper Detour campaign is an audacious idea that drove burger lovers to McDonald’s, where they could purchase Whoppers for only a penny thanks to an ingenious app with in-built geo-fencing. The campaign led to 1.5 million Burger King app downloads along with global media acclaim.  

“When you can’t outspend your biggest competitor, you have to outsmart them,” explained Ted Lim, former Regional Chief Creative Officer at Dentsu Asia Pacific, who was an Executive Judge at AD STARS 2019.

Robin Fitzgerald, Chief Creative Officer at BBDO Atlanta and an Executive Judge at AD STARS 2019, added: “This was basically a brief to offer coupons for one-penny Whoppers, but the agency went above and beyond to make something much more culturally provocative.”

2018

Agency: Fitzco//McCann and Casanova//McCann (USA) Client: Coca-Cola Campaign: Share a Coke 1,000 Name Celebration

It took 30 songwriters, 45 musicians and over 2,625 hours to create 1,000 songs inspired by people’s names, which people could seek out online, hear on the radio and share on social channels.

Ari Halper, Creative Partner at FCB North America and Executive Judge at AD STARS 2018, said: “One of the biggest trends our industry is facing is that it’s hard to reach consumers with ‘push’ advertising, which means we need to find ways to get people to seek out our ideas. This campaign pulled people to seek it out. I also think there’s a tendency to always want to try something new, yet there’s great value in building on ideas. Coca-Cola’s latest campaign takes ‘Share a coke’ to another level. To me, that is a dying art. I think it’s important that our industry is mindful of not reinventing the wheel every time – once you’re onto something great, you can sometimes keep building upon it forever.”

Executive Judge Anna Qvennerstedt, Copywriter and Chairman at Forsman & Bodenfors in Sweden, says: “One of the things I really admire about this Coca-Cola campaign is the high ambition of the craft. I hope it will be an inspiration for agencies and clients to go that extra mile. It took a lot of working hours, blood, sweat and tears to make this idea – and it pays off.”

2017

Agency: Colenso BBDO, Auckland (New Zealand) Client: Pedigree Campaign: Pedigree Child Replacement Programme

This cheeky campaign encouraged empty nesters to replace their children with adopted dogs.

Helen Pak, who is now Creative SVP Creative at The Walt Disney Company, was an Executive Judge at AD STARS 2017. She said: “The Pedigree Child Replacement Challenge is a fantastic integrated campaign – each element was individually strong, delightfully crafted with great insight and humour. It was such an interesting, humorous new way to approach an age-old dilemma of increasing animal adoption rates.”

James Keng Lim, Creative Director at Hakuhodo Sinagpore, said: “What stood out was the brevity of thought, the audacity to think big, and a true desire to make a positive change.”

2016

Agency: Y&R New Zealand Client: Burger King + Peace One Day Campaign: McWhopper

To celebrate Peace Day, Burger King came up with a cheeky proposition for McDonald’s under the guise of a one-day truce. It invited McDonald’s to combine Big Mac and Whopper ingredients to create one mega burger. The proposal was rejected by McDonald’s but adored by the world.

Tim Doherty, Chief Creative Officer at Isobar China and an Executive Judge at AD STARS 2018 said: “The idea of giving two battling brands the chance to make peace on Peace Day is a big, big idea.”

2015

Agency: Leo Burnett Client: Always (Procter & Gamble) Campaign: Like A Girl

When did doing something “like a girl” become an insult? This pivotal campaign “won kudos all over the Internet for changing the conversation about what it means to run, throw and do pretty much any activity ‘like a girl,’” according to Huffington Post. With over 68 million views on YouTube, the ad was a collaboration between three Leo Burnett offices led by Judy John (who is now Global Chief Creative Officer at Edelman).

2014 

* There were two Grand Prix of the Year trophies awarded in 2014.

Agency: Dentsu Tokyo Client: Honda Motor Co., Ltd. Campaign: Sound of Honda / Ayrton Senna 1989

To bring to life its car navigation system, Internavi, Honda re-enacted the world’s fastest lap by racing driver Ayrton Senna in the qualifying for the 1989 Formula 1 Japanese Grand Prix. It did this by collecting data from the car’s accelerator and engine to ingeniously recreate the lap using sound and light.

Agency: Forsman & Bodenfors (Sweden) Client: Volvo Trucks Campaign: The Chase 360

Forsman & Bodenfors set a herd of bulls free on the new Volvo FL in a rather extreme demonstration of the performance of Volvo Trucks. The interactive experience was filmed using 28 cameras so that users can switch between five different views. 

2013

Agency: Cheil, Seoul Client: Samsung Life Insurance Campaign: Bridge of Life

Mapo Bridge in Seoul has become a popular spot for suicide attempts as it is accessible to pedestrians. Samsung worked with Cheil to display positive, empowering messages as people walk along the bridge to encourage them to keep walking across its entire length. The campaign contributed to a decline in suicides on Seoul’s bridges, and was acclaimed around the world.

2012

Agency: Hakuhodo Inc. Client: Google Chrome / Google Japan Campaign: Hatsune Miku

To showcase the creative power of Chrome, Google Japan created a campaign featuring virtual singer Hatsune Miku, tapping into the “vocaloid” phenomenon by using singing voice synthesizer software. When people searched for ‘Hatsune Miku’ on Google Chrome, they were invited to make their own songs and videos – and thousands of people around the world did just that.

2011 – Grand Prix

Agency: Tokyu Agency Inc. Client: Japan Racing and Livestock Promotion Foundation Campaign: Japan World Cup

This integrated campaign for the Japan Racing and Livestock Promotion Foundation set out to raise the appeal of horse racing to the youth of Japan.

2010 – Grand Prix

Agency: Special Group Client: Orcon Campaign: Together Incredible

Special Group connected 9 Kiwi's to Iggy Pop’s Miami studio using Orcon Broadband, and together they re-recorded 'The Passenger'. It’s a remix like you’ve never seen before, and it won our 2010 Grand Prix.

2009

Agency: Ogilvy & Mather, Hong Kong Client: Match Box   Campaign: Chase

Ogilvy & Mather wanted to highlight the true-to-life realness of Matchbox cars, so they created footage of live driving situations to a soundtrack of kids making the noises of engines revving, changing gears, skidding around corners, sirens, and crashes.

2008

Agency: BBDO/Proximity Malaysia Client: Jeep (Chrysler Korea) Campaign: Husky & Camel

This visually simple campaign is part of a bigger ‘Two Worlds’ campaign that shows the enduring power of print. Two shapes – a husky and camel – overlap to reveal a Jeep, a clever way of showing that the Jeep is designed for any kind of weather conditions, from snow to desert.

The AD STARS 2020 Awards are open for entries until 15th May. Enter via adstars.org, or enjoy a showcase of our Grand Prix of the Year - Public Service Advertising winners here.

[thegnasticious]

The Relay

In a place not far away from our own solar system, A small house-sized metallic orb hurtles through space. A distant galaxy’s sun reflects off it’s aluminum-like carapace. It travels at a speed almost undetectable to the human eye. Besides a strange shooting-star like streak in the sky, one can hardly make out what it is from afar. It’s traveling seems to be that of a fluid mercury, rotating like a boomerang and subsequently moving forward. No portholes dot it’s foreign structure and whether a pilot is present at all remains debatable.

It’s speed starts accelerating and like a hot, molten metal, it turns bright orange. It spins in a way no human pilot could possibly tolerate. Then in an instant, blinks and vanishes. It appears somewhere off the dark side of the moon, a place or portal usually obscured from eye and telescope by both darkness and planetary positioning.

It starts rotating forward away from the moon’s pull and into our own. Spinning through the air like a giant silver boomerang.

Far below, a place called Cal’s bar adorns it’s usual late-night three customers. One of these customers, in a leather jacket, younger man, hair as black as his jacket. He sits outside the bar smoking a cigarette and holding a beer. He gazes off into the night sky with a sort of vacant stare. Bruce Springsteen’s, “Hungry Heart”, blasts from the bar radio. He holds his cigarette up to take drag, eyes still locked on the sky. Right where he was gazing at, a sort of metallic object flashes through the clouds. It looks a bit like lightning. It travels right over the bar, at first appearing in the distance like a spinning trash can, then nearing the size of a small plane as it was right above. No lights emanated and a strange wind swooshed after it passed.

The orb, now below the clouds, speeds over a river-side town. Not one inhabitant besides the aforementioned bar customer notices it’s speedy descent towards the banks of the Mississippi. It crashes through the rushing river water like a heavy boulder. Branches, fish and all sorts of organic life get sucked and shredded in it’s forceful pull. For a moment, the river above reflects a crimson red in the late moonlight. The crimson feeds from a whirlpool rushing in the middle of the current. Like a bell-mouth spillway back-feeding, the middle juts out a spray of blood and black flesh as a Volkswagen sized catfish found it’s way into the orb’s rip current. Below surface, the orb fights the pull of the river and travels to the river bed. Metal spikes then shoot from the sides and affix themselves like hooks, firmly embedded at least 10-20 feet into the riverbed.

At that moment a belt-like opening appears near the middle and a red glow comes from it. It starts making these strange sonar-like noises underwater and it tunes to “Hungry Heart”, by Bruce Springsteen. The bar’s radio at Cal’s starts to flicker, then the volume turns really loud. The bartender tries to turn it down but it doesn’t budge. He smacks the radio in frustration, when he contacts it, it makes a theremin sort of noise and his pupils grew to the size of his iris. In a sort of trance he walks to the back of the bar, prepares three beers. In his mind he could just hear the song and a voice telling him to ‘burn it down, cleanse yourself in the river’. He grabs the rat poison they usually use for the rats and mixes it into the beers with some pills he usually took from his pocket. He brings the round out to the customers and hands it to each of them without a word, just a strange smile. None of them question his strange generosity or why he left immediately after giving it to them, or closing the bar an hour after it should of been. Still in a trance, he walked to the River’s nearby rushing. It was so close to the bar, you could faintly hear it’s noise all day. He sits on a vacant park-bench in the black of night, his old grey hair kind of floats in the winds blowing off the shore. His eyes fix to the middle of the rushing black water and in his vision he sees a stark Red cyclone, deep below the surface of the water to the shore. It’s colors dance about his trance, entertaining his conscious self back into a lodge in the back of his head somewhere. The thing now controlling his old body, was foreign and no longer himself. It longed for the thing hiding in the rushing water.

It was the alien.

He returned to the bar to find it empty, everyone had apparently left, but the radio was still blaring. This time it was a strange noise like a high pitched frequency, with an old 70′s like song kicking in on increments, almost writing itself over the airwaves. At a certain point the lyrics were something like “I’m always down when I’m in your town”, and an old depressing piano followed their disdain, as it speeded the voice lowered instead of going higher with the rest of the instruments, as if it was bending. The lyrics in this new speed morphed to something that sounded like “Burn it down”, on repeat. The bartender smashed his most expensive liquors, cutting his hands without even flinching or noticing. He then went to the back-shed and grabbed his can of gasoline he usually saved for people who were stranded on the road. He emptied it on the bar’s old wooden counters with the message repeating over and over again from the radio, it’s amplitude and pronunciation becoming more demonic. He pulls an old matchbook from his pocket and lights the matchstick, throws it behind the bar and exits out the Saloon’s old wooden gates one last time.

His mind enslaved by the messaging, gravitated toward the source of this thing broadcasting to him. As he neared the shore of the river, the broadcast he heard earlier, now embedded in his conscience, grew in volume with the river’s flow. He heard things he could not describe to anyone else, glowing things. These things kept his conscious-self rooted in a state of perpetual automation.

This is why as his body drifted off into the Black abyss known as the Mississippi, no one else found what anyone else saw at Cal’s night. The whole thing was lost in the currents of a river.

As three family’s awoke to their two working father’s not waking up for work and one college level son as well, news broadcasters from a nearby bigger town over the bridge in Iowa, rushed with their cameras and vans to be the first reporters on scene. The strange story broadcasted throughout most of the state of Illinois. What appeared to be a triple homicide and disappearance, also the destruction of a historical bar by it’s owner, for unknown reasons.. Everyone was confused. The Bar owner’s wife Connie Miller went on local access news testifying for her husband, “All I hope is he come home safe and whoever did this brings him back. It just breaks my heart to think of him in pain or in trouble. He would never do a thing like this.......... it’s just not like him”. Any surveillance records burned with the bar.

Many of the news broadcasts blacked out, even on nearby networks. Interference would kick in on some of the TV’s and reports of strange voices being hidden in the broadcasts were beginning to surface. Most of the mainstream media neglected to mention this as the broadcasters didn’t possibly suspect that by reporting at ground zero, they might also be spreading whatever caused the bar to burn down that night.

Below the river’s rushing currents nearby, the broadcasts parallel feed into the strange orb. Using the river as a sort of antenna as the sun goes down, these strange electric bursts happen incrementally, sending droves of dead fish upstream. It seemed to be powering itself.

By the next morning, reports of many electronic devices as well as violent behaviors in dogs started to come up. One local junkyard owner had to put his own dog down because, in his words something from the radio, made it so crazed, that it tried to kill him after killing 2 of his other dogs randomly, no signs of that kind of behavior beforehand. Stories like this showed up all over the county, but as it usually goes also did men in Black suits, waving badges and telling people they didn’t see or hear anything showed up as much as the stories did. The broadcasts grew in intensity with the bursts, mainly affecting analog tv and radio waves, also anything antenna based. People’s TVs and radios turned themselves on broadcasting strange messages in the middle of then night, then shutting themselves off. People’s waking dreams and nightmares became the alien as they awoke with constant flu’s and unexplainable vertigo. As most aliens go they aren’t in little Grey men, but in us or however much we let that in us. People were afraid to buy things, even the bars that once seemed to be the lifeblood of this river-town were no longer active. Kids and adults were sick daily from the broadcasts, absences in work and school were on a mass level.

A general unease stained the air of Bordeaux.

People of the town began to blame the outsiders who have been trying to feed outside commerce, that they were intentionally trying to sabotage it. The most developed arguments all led to a conclusion that the town could no longer sustain itself and much of the businesses would have to be abandoned if another major flood occurred. The structural damage was too far out of control already and with these broadcast based sicknesses, people began to think that this was really the end times for the town.

As the towns leader’s adjourned their meetings on a possible evacuation, the vote was to try to stay out whatever else might come, despite the growing waters and concerns of the townspeople. The night following this meeting, a big storm came to Bordeaux. It appeared as if the sky was day with how strong the lightning flashes were. Thunder shook and rattled the town’s old buildings about. The businesses stood closed, most people had left or were getting ready to. People were allowed to stay at their own expense, glued to the TV watching updates about the flood.

All the code signals for ‘flood’ and ‘abandonment’ as well as ‘success’ began to distribute to the neural network of the pod. As these signals activated it started out-feeding subliminal messages into the broadcasts about the flood, strange messages like ‘leave’, ‘reap’, and ‘harvest’. Something in the pod then clicked on, a jolt happened and everything electrified in a bubble around the pod. A pressure then emanated from its armor blowing out a field of suspension in the bubble surrounding. Everything rushed at thousand of miles of pressure around, like being caught in the pumps of a monumental dam. Fish corpses fell from the water wall above, flapping on the wet ground. As the bubble of air grew around it, generators within the pod ran with the strength of suns, holding the rushing water above. The river then began to spill way over it’s shores in what was to be reported as one the worst floods of the Mississippi.

Bordeaux would subsequently be abandoned, the rushing river growing past it’s sidewalks. Little mention of why ever happened because the sickness and broadcast issues were never officially linked together. As Black coats came and swept up the numerous messes and people feeding it’s small countryside; most of the people reporting anything in relation or damage were blackmailed into rehabilitation and institution-type complexes, adequately constructed nearby, for a type of government level hypnosis, to hide anything left by what the Black coat’s would file ‘The Relay’