#that was one hell of a forehand

[kalibabysworld]

His smile is back🥰🥰

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Sorry for posting it as late as I am… life happened! 😂

Part 1 | . . . | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20

“How about it?” Eddie asks Will. “Ready to get out of here?”

“Yes, please,” Will whispers, and together they all walk through.

“Close it, El,” Steve says into the walkie. “And rest. We’ll be back soon.”

A few minutes later, Nancy pulls up in Steve’s Beemer, Jonathan, Robin and Barb in the back.

Robin’s out practically before the car is stopped. “What did you do?” She screeches, hands fluttering around his side.

Steve catches her hands. “I’m okay,” he says quietly, resting their forehands together. “Hurts like hell, but that’s a good thing. I’ll be okay.”

“We are never separating again, I swear,” she grinds out.

He kisses her forehead. “You know why we can’t promise that, Robs. But I’m okay. Right now we’ve gotta get back to my place and call Joyce.” He turns to Nancy. “Can you drive back? We’ll share the passenger seat. Will and Eddie will share a seat, and Jonathan can keep an eye on Barb.”

Nancy nods, and they all load into the car.

Robin keeps sniping at Steve, but he knows her by now, knows this is how she cares, and lets her. “I’m not sitting on your lap,” she says.

“We don’t exactly have all the room in the world, and I’m not sitting next to you, that’ll hurt my side worse.”

“And me sitting on you won’t?” She demands. “I could crush you!”

“Robs, c’mon. You don’t weigh that much. Look, right here, between my legs. Does that work for you?”

“Does it work for you?”

“Robs,” Steve says, trying hard not to laugh. “We’ve gotta get back. It’s a ten-minute drive. I’ll be fine for ten minutes.”

“I’m patching you up as soon as we get back.”

He does finally laugh, pulling her onto his lap. “I expect nothing less.”

They get back to Steve’s house with no trouble. Jonathan goes to call his mom, Eddie sits with the kids, and Steve, Nancy, and Robin set Barb and Will up on the couch with blankets and water before Robin pushes Steve into the bathroom. “Kit,” she demands, and he gestures to a cabinet as he sits on the counter.

“Y’alright, Robs?”

“Fine,” she says mildly, and he sighs.

“You’re pissed about me getting hit?”

She puts her hands on the counter, on either side of his thighs. “You had a bat,” she says quietly. “Eddie had a gun. A ranged weapon. What happened?”

Steve shrugs, taking off his shirt as she opens the kit. “It snuck up on us. We were focused on Will. I saw his eyes go wide and swung with the bat before I knew what was happening, then once I realized, I just… kept going. Forgot Eddie was there with the gun. I’m used to no one besides maybe Nancy having any real long-range weapons.”

“You went into protection mode and forgot you’re not the only one who can do that,” she murmurs, apologizing when Steve hisses at the antiseptic. “Just… You’re not gonna live forever, dingus, but I’m not ready to live without you.”

“Hey,” he murmurs, catching her eye. “I might not live forever, but you got me forever, okay, Robs? Just know that I’m always going to try to protect you and the kids.”

“I know,” she sighs. “I just… I’m just worried. You showed your true colors in the bunker when you pulled all the attention onto you in the hopes I’d be spared, and you didn’t even know me yet.”

Steve chuckles. “And now I do know you, and it just got worse?”

“Exactly.”

“Hey.” He puts a hand on hers, stills it. “I love you.”

She rolls her eyes, but ultimately smiles. “Yeah, I love you too, you idiot.”

“Hey-”

“You absolute buffoon-”

“Hey!” But they’re both laughing, leaning into each other, finding happiness even in the end of the world.

Nancy knocks on the bathroom door. “Is there another first aid kit anywhere?”

“Where’d you put the bags?” Steve asks Robin who, in turn, addresses Nancy.

“Check the bags in the kitchen.”

“Thanks,” she says, then a pause. “Steve? Are you okay?”

Steve closes his eyes, leans his head back against the wall. “I’ll be alright, Nance. Don’t worry about me.”

“Too late,” she says, not without humor.

Steve opens his eyes when he feels Robin’s hands on his thighs. “You alright?” She asks softly.

He shrugs, manages a smile. “Do I have a choice?”

“Always,” she says fiercely. “And I don’t care if we’re friends, I’ll ruin it if you want me to. I’ll make her-”

“Robs,” Steve says, almost laughing. “She hasn’t done anything yet, remember?”

Robin stills. “Oh. Right.” Then she shrugs. “I’d do it anyways.”

“Christ, I love you,” Steve laughs. “‘M okay, Robbie. Thanks for patching me up.”

“Always,” she murmurs, not looking up at him. Somehow it’s the most sincere she’s been all day.

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @muricel @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

Fic Taglist: @blondlanfear @do-you-want-something-more @str4wb3rry-guy @paperbackribs @ninjapirateunicorns @bisexualdisastersworld @hiscrimsonangel @lolawonsstuff @xo-r4e @thedragonsaunt @l0st-strawberry

[snakeredbirdbatkatana]

Son of Hell (Part 2)

Lucifer doesn't typically get summoned by his Lily she is usually more than happy to cause as much chaos as possible all on her lonesome. Who needs their loving husband getting in their way he is not bitter.

Imagine his surprise when he is dragged not even to his beautiful Queen, but to a child who is practically dripping with hell magic.

Seems he has a new kiddo, no wonder he's seen less of her lately especially if he's some form of hero which isn't exactly what he would pick for a profession but beggars can't be choosers.

-

Lily is Lilith.

Tim feels like an idiot he had assumed some form of fae or even minor god.

Not the queen of hell he has been bossing around the literal Mother of demons, who's husband is the devil and is smiling at him.

She promised though that she wouldn't leave that she would protect him so this even more doesn't make any sense.

He is still trying to puzzle it out when the fallen angel begins to walk to him.

"Hello my child, may I inquire as to what exactly is going on?"

A voice like honey comes across the battlefield somewhere behind a kneeling Darkseid.

"I believe I can explain, however darling put away the feather dusters you are scaring our imp and his humans."

A woman steps dark black wings almost as big as Lucifer's spread proudly behind, offsetting to the blonde hair and blood red dress that's seems to swirl.

She's looks different but he can feel that it's lily that it's Mom.

"The idiot behind me decided to attempt to kill our child, and well I figured it was time for you to complete your Fatherly duties."

He can't stop his mouth which seems to be operating separately from self preservation.

"You actually want to be my mom?" He can't help the hiccup that follows.

Warm hands come to wrap around his chin his eyes falling to meet emerald.

"You have always been my child, what have I done my imp for your doubt?"

He falls wrapping his arms around her burying his face in her curls smelling the sulfur but also a distinct scent of home.

She stands pulling him fully into her arms like he's a little boy again.

"Now you finish off that annoying stone thing, and than return home it's time for Timothy to meet his siblings."

He turns so he can look at the devil who apperently his adopted father who looks back at him with a wink.

"Anything for you, and yes because I choose to ignore him it's not because my wife never calls to tell me about children no it's all Lucy's fault. Have you been speaking to my father again?"

Tim can't help the giggle that slips out another warm smile comes from both his Mom and his sorta Dad.

He sees the bats and everyone else they look awestruck and angry especially Bruce he hides back in Mama's curls he know that he can't avoid it forever but maybe for a little bit longer.

She must read his mind as her wings begin to move she shouts out.

"To any hero who would like to argue with my child, you may argue with his Father, I'm sure he will be more than willing to make a deal."

As they leave the battlefield the adrenaline gone he feels his eyes start to slip closed he's exhausted.

A kiss across his forehand and a whispered,

"Sleep, sweetheart Mama has you."

Is all it takes before he's dead to the world.

@emstheshortone for you the one that inspired me to make this a series!

[incorrectbatfam]

Who's rhe first to call Selina mom?

When she started dating Bruce Wayne, Selina was aware of the package he came with. The demons, the sleepless nights, the weight of the city—hell, sometimes the fate of the universe—on his shoulders. While she didn't set out to fix him, she was ready to take some of the burden.

She was also aware of the other components of the package. Once the initial surprise wore off, the sight of jackets and batarangs strewn about became something she expected. At any given moment, there was a quarrel to break up or a homework assignment to find five minutes before they were supposed to leave. If she had a balloon for every time Dick used up the fancy shampoo, she could finally fulfill her April Fool's dream of filling the entire Batcave.

Conceptually, she knew what she was getting herself into, but it didn't psych her up the way getting indicted to the Justice League did. It was a given. The sky was blue, Harley loved Ivy, and Bruce Wayne collected strays.

The M-word never crossed her mind. She wasn't one. She was just Selina. Selina, who tied Jason's tie the first time he went to a gala. Selina, who packed Cass's patrol snacks, helped Duke with his science project, and took Damian to buy new shoes. But those were simply tasks, like any others that Bruce or Alfred did. She didn't rescue them off the streets or give them any reason to trust her. She showed up, looked around, and decided that in a place like Gotham, this wasn't the worst room to be in.

After some trial and error, she found her place their routine. Which included nights like these, when the city was calmer and they only needed half capacity. Batman had taken Robin, Orphan, Hood, and Signal out with him. Dick was treating Barbara to a well-deserved date while Alfred manned the computers. Tim was working on either a case or office work—she wasn't sure—in his room (which, by the way, needed some serious vacuuming). And Selina, who had a sudden craving for breakfast, flipped an omelet over in a sizzling plan.

The fridge beside her opened. After rooting around for a minute, Tim emerged with the pickle jar under his arm. He nudged the door shut with his foot as he scrolled through his phone, music audible through his earbuds.

"Careful, you don't wanna lose your hearing," she said.

He turned it down. "Do we have any peanut butter?"

"Check the top right pantry."

"Cool." He sniffled.

She turned the stove down. "Something wrong?"

"Just a little under the weather," he said.

She touched her hand to his forehand. "No fever. That's good, at least. Remember to take breaks."

He hummed and went back upstairs.

Selina started the electric kettle, and while it boiled, she finished her food and loaded her few things into the dishwasher. Then, she grabbed one of her cat mugs, poured the water in, and steeped a chamomile tea bag for a few minutes before bringing it up.

She knocked softly. After getting the "come in," she carefully stepped over a box of case files.

"This should help," she said, setting the tea on his desk.

"Thanks Mom," he said, eyes glued to the screen.

She smiled. "Don't stay up too late." And gently closed the door behind her.

[fritzes]

thoughts and ramblings and opinions about the indian wells draw:

wta:

despite being the number one seed, iga has a pretty rough draw that is eerily similar to her ao draw. collins, noskova, and of course her nemesis ostapenko are all lurking in her quarter. ons jabeur is also there, but her form hasn’t been great lately and I highly doubt she can get past ostapenko. all that said, indian wells is not the ao. this surface favors iga a lot more, and she won in 2022. plus, she’s coming off of some great results in doha and dubai, so I wouldn’t count her out by any means. it’ll be tough, but it’s definitely not impossible

on the other side of that half, elena’s draw is looking pretty good. she’s the defending champion, but I doubt she’s one to let the pressure of defending get to her. there’s the potential of paula badosa in the second round, but I honestly don’t know if paula is even playing, so that might not matter. there’s no one in elena’s draw that she can’t beat, but her health is always a wild card and if her body doesn’t hold up I could see maybe paolini or haddad maia pulling off the upset. marketa is in this quarter too, but she’s been all over the place lately. if she’s in-form, then I have no doubt she can make a dent but that’s a massive if

coco’s draw is pretty decent. she seems to have mastered playing to her seed and is really good and pulling off a win even if she isn’t playing her best. she had an upset in dubai, but that did give her some time to train and hopefully work out some of the errors. her draw looks fairly simple until a potential meeting with naomi in the fourth round, but I wouldn’t say that’s super likely unless naomi has really made some strides in the last few weeks. I could see naomi losing to samsonova, but you never know! from there, the quarterfinal matchup would most likely be qinwen, which could be a great match of two pretty similar styles

much like the ao, aryna’s draw is basically the opposite of iga’s. the top 10 opponents in her draw are pegula, who just lost a match from a 5-1 lead, and sakkari, who is, well, sakkari. this should be an easy path to the semis, and I’m sure aryna really wants to go deep in this tournament after losing early in dubai

as for the projected semifinals: iga finally got the better of elena in doha, but that doesn’t guarantee victory at all. I think if they do play it’ll be a really close match. if aryna and coco play, I would probably pick aryna to win that unless coco can minimize the forehand errors

interesting round 1 matchups: giorgi/boulter, blinkova/pliskova,

atp:

really easy draw for novak here. he’s projected to meet tommy paul in the fourth round with no big challenges before that, and that’s not exactly a challenging match for him either. in qfs he’ll have one of ruud, norrie, and hurkacz, all of whom he can beat. I think it’ll probably be casper, since hubi’s serve is pretty useless on this extremely slow surface and norrie has been in a slump lately

poor daniil is stuck in an absolute nightmare quarter. he’s got his kryptonite korda in round three and dimitrov in the fourth round. meanwhile, the bottom half of this quarter has rune, nadal, and indian wells fritz, who is generally much better than regular fritz. honestly, anyone could come out of this quarter and face novak in the semis. if daniil makes it, massive kudos to him

jannik has somehow managed to pull rublev in the quarterfinals yet again, which is a match completely on his racket. he will probably play shelton in the fourth round, but ben’s serve will be pretty neutralized on this surface and I have no doubt jannik will take advantage of that. the only thing that can stop jannik right now is himself, so he has to deal with the pressure of being where he is right now. if he does that, then this quarter is his to lose

and finally, the last quarter, which is just as stacked - if not more - as the second quarter. carlos is gonna have a hell of a time trying to defend his title, with faa, khachanov, and jarry all in his section. I would be shocked if the top half of this quarter doesn’t get swept by adm, who is in the form of his life. zverev sucks on slow hardcourts, and I wouldn’t be surprised at draper or griekspoor pulling off an upset. and in the qfs, we could see a battle for jannik’s heart between carlos and alex…

projected semifinals: like I said, I’d be surprised if daniil makes it there, but he’s done crazier shit before so who knows. that being said, if he gets through that draw and has to face an in-form novak on one of his least favorite surfaces, I wouldn’t favor him. however, if novak is in his ao semi form and is playing just okay, daniil definitely has a chance. and of course, the big one, a possible sincaraz match. I love carlos, but I would be really surprised if he managed to beat jannik right now, especially with the injury concerns

interesting round 1 matchups: sonego/kecmanovic, monfils/purcell, raonic/nadal (I can’t believe this is real), van assche/arnaldi

[goose-ate-thebee]

Okay so this is my first smut so please give me some slack 😭

But it is fem!readerxGhost and it is smut....this might be cringe asf imma try and improve 😔

give me some suggestions whom should be next

anyway enjoy this Abomination

Late night in a dead silence with You, your thoughts, and the 6'4 tall British man that wears a skull mask named Simon Riley aka Ghost. You and Ghost were sitting in the silent back of a random abandoned room where some things were still in good condition like the lights and the ripped-up sheeted bed. You try to walk over to the dresser but Ghost pulls you back "Don't be stupid now y/n you might get killed for being so wreckless" Ghost spoke as he pulled you behind him and slowly opened the dresser from a slight distance. There lies a necklace, money, ID cards, and other random stuff but the one that sticks out the most is a condom that looks brand smacking new. "Uhh Ghost you see what I see" you spoke trying to hold in a giggle, Ghost looked over at you with disappointment in his eyes "Really!" Ghost snapped at you as he gripped your face looking into your eyes. "SORRY, SORRY I WAS JUST TRYING TO LIGHTEN UP THE MOOD IT WAS SILENCE FOR TOO LONG!" you apologized holding onto his exposed veiny forehands as he just signed and let out. "Do it again and you'll get a hard lesson from me next time" Ghost threatened you to stop your nonsense but you thought he was just joking back. you giggle and put your hands on your waist "Okay Simon". Ghost death stared you down "The fuck you just say Y/n" Ghost walk towards you causing you to walk backward then eventually you walk back into a wall "Want to try again Love, I'm waiting" he tower over you staring you down. "Okay, Simon its‐" you were cut off when he shoved his fingers into your mouth and the other hand of his held your chin up to him "I gave you one chance and you fuck up so badly, I might have to punish you for failing such a little lesson huh you dumb bitch". You gagged on his fingers a little bit and wrapped your hands around his forearm again, you moan over his finger feeling a little arousal maybe a little too much arousal by the situation "Your acting like such a whore it adorable" Ghost taunts you as he let go of you. You fall on your knees looking up at him breathing heavily "No I'm not shut the hell up Si‐ Ghost" You look down slightly flustered. Ghost smiled to himself happy that she fixed it herself before Ghost did it for her again. "You are but it's fine 'cause you're my whore, now get on your feet so we can get a move on" He gestures to you to get up. You slowly stand up to gain more strength again "Yes Lt. Ghost"

[skelavender]

Mulder is a profiler. His training, as well as his paranoia, have produced a hypervigilance in him that has his eyes constantly bouncing across people’s faces and bodies, trying to work them out. Scully is no exception. Hell, if anything, she’s the one he spends the most time trying to parse out. 

read the finale of shelter on ao3, or below the cut!

April 1996

Mulder is a profiler. His training, as well as his paranoia, have produced a hypervigilance in him that has his eyes constantly bouncing across people’s faces and bodies, trying to work them out. Scully is no exception. Hell, if anything, she’s the one he spends the most time trying to parse out. 

There are certain patterns in her behavior that he’s only picked up in the few weeks since they moved in together. He already knows that Scully is a creature of habit, that she has different mugs for her morning cup of coffee and her afternoon cup of tea. He knows she sits on the floor when she’s editing, but on actual furniture when she’s reading. He knows that the first thing she does when she gets home is check the answering machine. But there’s always going to be some new depth to her that he gets to learn and unravel, and he loves that about her. 

The new habits he’s learning are things he never would have discovered outside of their new dynamic, which is, frankly, domestic. He hesitates to use the word, a little afraid of the connotations, but it’s the most accurate. She moves around him like she always has, but their increased exposure has highlighted some new mannerisms. 

Scully is, occasionally, picky about when she is touched. A hand to her shoulder or back is generally safe, but her tolerance for anything more depends on her mood. Mulder has learned how to read her comfort level with physical contact. On nights where she’s willing to cuddle, willing to let him old her or vice versa, she’ll sit on the couch when they settle in to watch tv or read to themselves. Otherwise, usually on the days where she’s quiet and distant, she’ll sit in the ugly green chair that backs the kitchen. Mulder never sits in that chair. It’s Scully’s solitude chair. He won’t encroach on that space. 

The further into the middle she sits, the more contact she’ll allow. If she settles against the arm, they’ll face each other with their feet brushing on the middle cushion, Mulder’s bare toes meeting Scully’s thick socks. Even this minute contact makes Mulder’s heart race.

 If she sits in the middle, he sits close enough for their thighs to brush and lays an arm across her shoulders. Those days, they’re likely to end up spooning by the time they depart for bed — or, as Mulder prefers, fall asleep right there in the living room with the TV on. Scully’s want for touch is woven into her actions, in a language Mulder knows how to read very well. 

The second Scully-habit that Mulder learns takes longer. She doesn’t even start doing it until a couple months into their cohabitation. 

Mulder is laid out on the couch in their home office reviewing a file when he hears movement from above, followed by a “No– no!”

He’s upstairs and through Scully’s bedroom door before he can think twice. She’s upright and breathing heavily, and when he meets her eyes, they’re brimmed with tears threatening to spill over.

“You okay?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I just, uh,” She presses a hand to her forehand, and smoothes it over her sleep-mussed hair, “I had a nightmare.”

He takes a tentative step into the room, “Do you want me to…”

She presses her lips together in a useless effort to keep her tears in and scoots over on the bed, allowing for Mulder to slip under the covers. He opens his arm up towards her, and she pillows herself on his chest. When she lets out a sob, he tightens his arms around her. 

Scully breaks. 

Mulder presses his lips into Scully’s hair and lifts one of his hands to stroke it soothingly, murmuring comforting nonsense into her scalp.  

“At the risk of sounding like a cliche, do you want to talk about it?” Mulder asks once she’s quieted. 

Scully shakes her head. “In the morning.”

Mulder nods, and with a final kiss to her forehead, shifts to get out of Scully’s bed. To his surprise, she tightens her arm where it’s thrown across Mulder’s ribcage. “Stay?” She requests, her voice small. 

His breath catches. “Of course.”

Not even bothering to change out of his jeans, Mulder settles in and sleeps. 

In the morning, they do talk about it — unusual, for them, but needed all the same. Her head on Mulder’s chest, Scully tells Mulder about her old apartment, and having to live with bloodstains under her feet and Melissa’s ghost in the kitchen. Though the thought does occur to him, Mulder does not suggest that her sister’s ghost really was in Scully’s old apartment. 

The next night, when he finally heads to his room, he notices Scully’s door propped open a couple inches. Not wide, but enough to be intentional. Giving in to his curiosity, Mulder pokes his head in. 

Scully is curled on her side, her back to the door, curled up as small as possible. Unlike last night, when she had laid in the middle of her bed before he joined her, she is on the side near the window. An empty pillow is perched on the right side like an invitation. 

One Mulder chooses to take. 

As quietly as possible, Mulder creeps closer to the bed and slips between the covers. He holds Scully close to him, his chest against her back. 

“Scully? ‘S this okay?”

She nods with a sleepy sound of assent and grabs his hand to pull him in closer. 

They don’t talk about it. Mulder wakes up with Scully in his arms the next morning, and the next, and the next. It’s almost a week before he finds Scully’s door closed, and drifts into his own bedroom instead. 

Sure. They’re sleeping in the same bed most nights. No need to have a conversation about that, or what it means, or if Mulder can start kissing her goodnight, and good morning, and hello, and goodbye, and just because and, and, and…

That’s what he wants. Mulder thinks, sometimes, that they have something. That there’s something there, bubbling underneath the surface. That maybe, just maybe, she holds love for him close to her chest, just like he does for her. But he’s not going to ask for it until she’s ready. She’ll make a move when she’s ready.

***

Mulder slowly wakes one morning to poppy 80s music trickling through Scully’s slightly ajar bedroom door. Her side of the bed is empty and cold. He takes the socks he toed off into the covers last night and slides them back onto his feet before patting out into the kitchen. There, he is greeted with the sight of Scully, bathed in golden morning light, in a large t-shirt that used to be his. She’s stood in front of the stove with a spatula in her hand, swaying her hips to the beat and popping them with an occasional flair to the rhythm of the music. Above all of that, most adorably, she’s singing. Horribly off key, of course, in true Scully fashion.

She’s got it! Yeah baby, she’s got it!

Mulder watches the gentle, alluring swish of her hips. Damn right, she’s got it.

Scully doesn’t hear his soft footfalls over the sound of the stereo, and she jumps slightly when his hand brushes her back as he approaches the coffee maker.

“God, Mulder, I didn't hear you come in.”

“I’m sneaky like that. Morning, Scully” he greets.

“Good morning.”She reaches up to the cupboard for a plate. “Eggs?” she offers. 

“Sure.” Before scully can lift up onto her tiptoes, Mulder grabs it for her and places it in her hands. She can reach it, he knows, but it’s far easier for him. The smaller breakfast plates he knows she’s going for are an extra shelf up. He knows that she knows it’s not meant to be condescending. He just wants to take every punch of struggle out of her life. 

“Scrambled okay?”

He hums his ascent and presses a kiss into her cheek, one that she leans up into, before taking his mug and the now-full plate. He takes his place at his usual seat, the one closest to the back door, and Scully slides into her own across from him.

“Oh,” Scully says before taking a bite, “Before I forget, I'm going to be in the lab late tomorrow, can you grab groceries after work? It’s going to be packed today, I'd rather not deal with the crowds.”

“Of course. list on the fridge?”

“Yep. Oh, and can you—“

“Replace the bathroom lightbulb.” He smiles at her. “I didn’t forget.”

The smile she returns is as bright as the rising sun, and fills the room just as much. It spreads to her eyes, and god, she’s so light like this, on a rare, carefree Sunday morning.

God, he wants her. He wants her naked, with her back arched and her eyes rolling into the back of her head, he wants her screaming his name, he wants her hot and wet around him, he wants her, he wants her, he wants her.

But the way he has her is so much more important.

He’s got his partner across from him, digging into food she had thought to make a second portion of, he’s got a honey-do list, he’s got the warmth of the sunlight through the stained glass window. There’s nothing more he really needs.

Despite that, sometimes he might… push his luck. He’s always been affectionate with Scully, moreso than he is with anyone else or than she’s ever let anyone else be in front of her. One day later that week, for example, Mulder gets home from the Gunmen’s lair to see Scully, cross legged on the couch with a book in her lap. She greets him with a soft “Hey,” but barely looks up from the book in her lap. 

When he passes by the back of the couch, he notices her necklaces are askew. She tends to wear the longer one, the one that carries her wedding ring, on top of her shirt when they’re at home. It’s on display, even if only for him. 

He shifts the chains back into place, with the clasps in the back, and presses a kiss into the space above the protrusion of her vertebra. She leans her head onto the back of a couch with a smile crinkling the corners of her eyes, and he leans down again to press his lips to her skin again, this time on her forehead. 

It takes every punch of willpower not to kiss those crinkles, Or her lips. A small part of him wonders if she notices where his gaze tends to linger, where he can’t touch. He’s already taking too much of her affection. When she’s ready, he thinks in a weak attempt to comfort the stretch of longing that blooms in his chest. When she’s ready. 

“I’m going to get changed,” Mulder croaks through a dry throat. Scully bites at her bottom lip and raises her hand to pat at his wrist. She doesn’t break the contact as he walks away, and their hands don’t drop until Mulder’s gone too far and they’re forced to let go. 

Scully watches as her partner walks down the hall. Gently, she runs a finger along the two chains, now straightened and in their places. The clasps cling together. Scully wears two chains around her neck. One symbolizes her faith in and dedication to God. The other represents her faith in and dedication to Mulder. Only one of them is allowed to lay on top of her shirt when she’s outside of her home, but that doesn’t mean it’s any more important. 

It was a small gesture, fixing her necklaces, but such an intimate one. Despite their growing comfort with each other, something she honestly hadn’t thought was possible given their existing closeness, it’s an unusually intimate gesture. His eyes had flitted to her lips, and for a moment, she could have sworn—

But no. They don’t… do that. Not on the lips, at least. Well, not habitually. And really, that one time barely counted. She hadn’t even been able to properly taste him. 

But God, to taste him. How sweet his lips would be, how gentle. How loving.

 Scully lets herself fantasize.

<- previous chapter

[whywishesarehorses]

Pony and I tried our old sidepull again last night - fascinating to feel the difference in communication level without leverage/with something that only applies pressure to her nose, rather than chin, cheek, nose, and poll.

She’s still sensitive as hell, but it’s interesting to have such reduced control of her shoulders and forehand! With my S hack, I can use one rein at a time with a finger to lift a shoulder and turn her. I did not find that I had that level of detailed communication when going back to the sidepull. Proves how far we’ve come!

She did offer the most remarkable canter - no hands, no contact, but smooth and moderately collected onto her hind end, really holding herself and not just falling forward. I think working on a seat canter cue is working

[u5an5]

Of things extra: Once Upon a Witchlight Ep. 28 | Duel of the Honks

Episode | Masterlist

.

! Fair warning, this post contains SPOILERS. If you don't want to be spoiled, STOP READING !

.

(Kremy): Why don't you guys like, rumble outside and, you know, have like fisticufs.

(Gideon): Well if I fisticuffs with 'im, he's gonna die.

[Chuckles]: You know what's funny, Gideon...

He blows air into his thumbs like inflating balloons, making them huge and raises them in front of him in ready position

[Chuckles]: That's exactly what a bitch would say!

Gi, angered: Alright, that's enough! I didn't wanna do it, I was gonna spare Grickos life when you're rindin' inside of his body but I'm done! When you're outside, I'll bury you in the swamp, you damn clown!

As Chuckles cartwheels his way out of the room, his Sticky Sneakers squeaking each time they make contact with the floor, Gideon absolutely furious runs out after him, chasing the sound of constant laughter and squeaks

(Torbek), panicked: Oh no, Mr. Kremy do something!

(Kremy): Ribble, I need you to get outa here and supervise, make sure nobody dies!

T: Ohhh, okay!

Torbek chases after them

.

Gideon POV

A mangrove tree stands in the middle of a patch of heavily churned mud, where rusting and rotting bits of armor and weapons are scattered. Two lengths of chain are anchored to opposite sides of the tree trunk, each with an iron shackle on the end.

But you are not prisoners. You have no need for those shackles.

Yet.

As you find yourself in the middle of this circular Proving Ground, there are rusted pieces of armor all over. Looking at this Gideon, you can say it would be useless in a fight, should you need it.

As you and Chuckles stand face to face, for the first time in life and death, able to truly fight.

Torbek runs out after you

(Torbek): Mundlemud! No, no! Gideon, please! This is important! DON'T hurt him!

(Gideon): Did you hear what he said to me?! He called me a bitch!

(Torbek): Ribble heard him, he tried to pretend he didn't, but this is serious! It's still Gricko!

(Gideon), conflicted: I- Listen. I'll just hit him so hard he just dies- kinda, and then we'll revive him!

(Torbek): Ughhh, just- Just think this throughh! Gideon can be a bigger person!

(Gideon): I'm literally bigger than him, I dunno what you're trying to do- I'll slap him so hard that Chuckles' gonna come right off his goddamn stupid clown face!!

Torbek lets out various sounds of distress while he's saying all of this

(Gideon): Forehand, backhand, doesn't matter! I'm gonna break Gricko one way or another, and he's coming back in next 12 seconds cause that's how many rounds it's gonna take!

.

(Gideon) vs [Chuckles]

(This fight doesn't use fight stats. Players roll initiative and on their turn they describe what their character is doing, which can be anything as long as it's in-character and in-universe plausible. Wherever the move hits decides d20 contest - the result is in favour of person with higher number)

.

You square up.

Torbek- Ribble, at Kremy's discretion, is guarding his friends, unsure what to do at this moment, as you two stand opposite each other in this circular arena.

Gideon, you stare down at Chuckles' body. The body of this desiccated dead clown thing. You know that somewhere in there is Gricko, but at this moment all you can see is Chuckles.

Chuckles, you stare at your arch-nemesis, Gideon. This is the man that punched you so hard in the body that you went to hell. And there really is no wine in hell

[Chuckles]: I'll never forget that fight...

He says this as starts to cartwheel in figure eights. As he stops and rights himself, his legs blow up like a cowboy, as he slowly advances towards Gideon, his sneakers squeaking with each step. On his hip appears a toy ray gun, as out of nowhere clouds transform into clown horns, playing western tune. He grabs the handle with his giant hand

[Chuckles]: Okay Gideon, how is it going to end?!

Gideon squares off, walking up so they're face to face, as the fire on his body to start rising up, lighting him up.

(Gideon): Oh, it's getting hot in here.

.

You're so excited to finally take down Chuckles, hopefully the final time. But Chuckles surprises you, as he pulls out a ray gun. Gun? What's a gun in Avantris? You’re flabbergasted. He has the fastest finger in the West. He points it, whatever it is, at you.

[Chuckles]: Hey, Gideon.

(Gideon): Yeah?

[Chuckles]: I was walking, from the carnival to the farm, and out of the bush... three pigs jumped me and devoured my flesh.

(Gideon), amused: *chuckles* That's a pretty good story so far, keep going.

[Chuckles]: IT WAS A HAM-BUSH!!!

Chuckles yells, as he puts his finger on the trigger.

.

As Kremy walks up to the arena, he's followed by about 50 bullywugs, all of them clearly members of the soggy court, as they begin to fill the stands. You see that it caught the attention of people that worked here too, and within 10-15 minutes, the stadium is filled.

Ribble, you have been outfitted with a referee uniform. You've got a whistle hanging around your neck, you've got a cap on and you're wearing a striped shirt.

You're not quite sure what you're supposed to do with this, what your expectations are, but you seem to be now in some sort of position of power.

Kremy is gifted a magical conch shell, that when spoken amplifies voice, as he tells the crowd that the event is about to start and somehow Gideon and Chuckles haven't destroyed each other yet.

They're just staring at each other, squaring off, getting ready to engage in combat.

(Gideon): *laughs* Ambush, great! Great joke, for 15 minutes I've been laughing!

Everyone has begun to settle down, the bullywugs had their hot dogs, and their peanuts, and their drinks. Everybody's excited and a hush begins to fall over the crowd, as people begin to chatter.

You all are huddled together in the middle, Kremy getting close enough to the rest so he can have a quick chat with them

(Kremy): All right, what's going on?

(Torbek): Ughh... It's pretty bad, it's pretty bad, Augluth. I'm really worried Gideon's gonna kill Gricko accidentally!

(Kremy): Well here's the thing, you've got to make sure that he beats him up until it looks like Chuckles dies, you understand? That's your job.

(Torbek), unsure: Ngh, okay...

(Kremy): Okay?

(Torbek): No, but here we go!

(Kremy), talking to the conchshell: Froggy and toad people! Are you ready to see a bloodbath?!

The audience cheers.

(Kremy): Are you ready to see something you ain't never seen before!?

The cheers louden.

(Kremy): Do you all count as witnesses, if so cheer!

After brief confusion crowd cheers, agreeing to be witnesses.

(Kremy): That's legally binding! And, begin!

Torbek blows the whistle as soon as he hears "begin".

.

[Chuckles]: We've been standing here for three hours...

(Gideon): Yeah, he's been pointing this thing for... for forever!

The thing looks like a gun, it looks clown-circus-like but it has a dark nature to it.

As blast goes out, Gideon is easily able to step aside from it (miss)

[Chuckles]: Oh, that was my 9th level spell!

As the blast hits the stairs next to the audience, it carves a straight hole through the stairs.

Watching this, Kremy and Torbek are able to hear from the audience

"Who even is fighting? They never announced who this was, how do we know who's dying?"

As the blast hits random bullywug walking down the stairs, killing him instantly, Chuckles looks at the gun with elated shock.

[Chuckles]: Man, this Shadowfell stuff is pretty intense!

(Kremy) to (Torbek): Hey, do you remember Gideons, like, "fake name"?

(Torbek): Yeah, it's, um, Mundlemud.

(Kremy): Why don't you introduce him?

Kremy throws the shell to Torbek. As he catches it, a screeching sound starts to emanate from it.

(Torbek): Sorry, Ribble got too close to the conch.

The audience is covering their ears.

(Torbek): How do you turn this thing off...

Audience starts to yell for him to shut up each time he tries to talk again and after a unsuccessful few tries he gives it back to Kremy.

Someone from the audience yells "Get your vuvuzelas!", as Chuckles points his gun at them and shoots them to death.

[Chuckles]: Oh, I'm out of turns, sorry. *looks down at the gun, pouting* Oh, it was my last use...

He says, as he throws the gun behind him. When it hits the ground faint wails are audible

.

As he dodges the blast, he charges at Chuckles, trying to wrap him with his chains. (hit)

He swirls his chain around Chuckles, binding him with his hands crossed around his head

[Chuckles]: We haven't even established our safe word!

(Gideon): Safeword for you, you greasy clown!

[Chuckles]: Banaña! Banaña! Bana-!

As Gideon pulls Chuckles towards himself, Chuckles spins directly into Gideon, as Gideon's fist sinks into Chuckles' his face, as it starts to stretch and warp under it like a water filled balloon. It seems to do a significant ammount of damage.

After being hit, Chuckles head spins around for a long while and when it stops he throws up bunch of colorful circus peanuts at Gideons face

(Gideon), disgusted: Oh, my least favourite bodily activity, ugh!

[Chuckles]: Oh, what a wonderful day for a blood bath...! Oh, Gideon! What's your favourite animal?

(Gideon): It's a pig man, I've told you like four times. You've asked me every time you took over Gricko's body, it's a pig.

[Chuckles]: Ohh... Okay, coming right up!

He blows into his thumb, trying to turn into several balloon pigs, but the chains around him are hot and melt and pop them. His face starts to melt a little.

[Chuckles]: Oh no, my plastic flesh is burning! My rubber!

He grabs his hat and pulls down onto his face, covering his entire head. When he pulls it back up his face is back to normal.

[Chuckles]: Oh, that's much better. And less graphic for the audience. I know there are some tadpoles in the audience, we have to keep it PG.

From the audience there is loud "Pretzels! Unsalted pretzels, with avocado-based mayo! Only 23 gold pieces!" from a vendor

[Chuckles]: Oh, hold on one second Gideon-

He shots the vendor dead

[Chuckles]: Okay, that was the last charge. Fuck that guy, right?

(Gideon), whining: I kinda wanted some of those man, I'ma little hungry.

[Chuckles]: Unsalted pretzels?!

(Gideon): I'd eat anything-

[Chuckles]: God, do you hate yourself?

(Gideon): For the last ti- all right, you know what? Shut up!

With his chains still wrapped around Chuckles' waist, he pulls him close to himself and punches him once again. You see his form shift and you can see bits and pieces of Gricko there, somewhere.

(Gideon): Don't worry buddy, I'm gonna beat you right back!

Few of Chuckles' teeth fall out, very Looney Tunes-style

[Chuckles]: Ugh, nice shot Gideon...

(Gideon): I won't let this horrible clown have your body even if I have to bury you!

[Chuckles]: You know what they say, I'm okay getting a little roughed up - to make an omlet you gotta break a few eggs!

In his raised arms appears a striped colorful barrel with a dark tone and he tries to smash it on Gideons head. As the barrel smashes into the ground next to him, a bunch of red monkeys come out of it. (miss)

As the monkeys hit the ground they sizzle and pop, they are clearly acidic monkeys. They let out some monkey noises and run away, with Gideon hastly jumping out of their way.

"Bloody Maries, get your Bloody Maries with one of those deep fried cheeseburgers! Only 22 gold pie-AUGH AAAH IT HURTS! AGH IT HU-! *angry monkey noises*

Stairs are littered with vendor bodies, as another one comes truffling down.

[Chuckles]: What are you waiting for, Gideon? What we'll do will echo through *HONK*ternity

His teeth are missing, blood is coming out of his eyes.

Gideon whips his chain up, sending Chuckles in the air, as he jumps up after him and grapples him

As Chuckles is sent into the air he pulls out a Simon Says sigh saying "uh oh"

As Gideon pile drives Chuckles into the earth, Chuckles' time stops for a moment. His eyes go wide as his pupils get smaller and red

[Chuckles], in his mind ala anime fight throughs: That's right Gideon, enterain them! My clown ancestors are smiling at me Gideon, can you say the same-?!

CRASH

As he's saying it, you can see Chuckles fading away. You now have Grickos body in your hands, but you realize it second too late. You can hear all of his bones snap.

(Gideon): Don't worry buddy, I'm gonna bring you back-!

Torek blows his whistle, notating the end of the battle and win for Gideon.

Gricko lays in a small crater in the ground, Family Guy-style.

.

The audience goes crazy. Everybody is cheering and screaming, you can hear "Long live Mundlemud!" "Mundlemud for the win!" "Mundlemug has a clean slate!" all around

(Kremy): That's right folks, the clown's dead and he disintegrated immediately! Leaving a goblin he must've eaten earlier or something... Anyway, thanks for coming!

"Does anyone want a full cooked chicken piccata? On a dinner plate...? Chicken piccata! Hey, hot and fresh chicken piccata, who wants some?!"

One of the bullywugs stands up and yells "Shut up, we're listening!", as he stabs the vendor in the back.

"AAGH- Agh, lemonade capers..."

You can hear bits of conversation, as bullywugs, no longer interested now that the fight is over, all begin to make their way towards the castle to prepare for other nights endeavors.

01:49:13]

.

Episode | Masterlist

[avianii]

FELLOW TENNIS BESTIE. i have questions as someone who’s been repressing this special inchrest to be normal for 11 years of my life:

best/favorite stroke

preferred serve (kick/slice/flat)

doubles, singles, or mixed

serve and volley?

i-formation/australian or default doubles formation?

do. you. like. the. net. (this one’s the dealbreaker btw)

TY OMG I LOVE RHIS ASK!

ok fav stroke has got to be the slice just because it's always been something I'm good at. and it drives people insane when balls just don't bounce up lol. backhand or forehand doesn't really matter but forehand is what I go for most of the time. BUT my down the line forehand shots are def a close second. screwed up my shoulder a bit recently so I haven't been able to make them as much as before tho 😔

flat serves!!! they just make more sense to me tbh, and are also the only ones I can actually aim with lol.

I mostly play doubles and have been stuck at 2nd doubles on my school team for the past 2 years but singles are so fun when you find those people who are just challenging enough to play. I don't think I've ever played competitive mixed tho so idk about that. probably would be fun tho

yes. 100%.

I usually play default because we usually don't have enough time to figure out serve formations during our tennis season and also I have yet to find a doubles partner willing to stick with me :/

and HELL YEAH I LOVE THE NET honestly I'm probably a safety hazard up there considering the number of people I've hit by accident (gave a girl a concussion swing volleying into her face freshman year 😭😭😭) but it's so much more fun than just chilling at the baseline for the entire match

[haveneulalie]

I’m mainly asking about their interactions/relationships with other cookies, but their skills and rarities would be nice too

Also maybe what flavors they would be-

I think i will go with rarity, after interactions, and lastly flavors (its the hardest ok? 😭)

If its okay i will have to say most of the housewardens might be ultra-rare or not, which might be understandable considering their magic control.

I'm going to go for two for now and it may not be 100% accurate as I don't have access to Twisted Wonderland (can't play it) and basically all my info is from blogs and videos.

From low to highest student body in the dorm

Ignihyde -

Idia Shroud,

I can easily see him being a super epic/ancient cookie and is mainly because of his position and power in the actual twisted wonderland.

Idias signature spell is - Gate to the underworld, which is already a dead giveaway to it being a high rarity because this power apart from ACTUALLY opening the gate to the underworld his entire family bloodline are the only ones responsible to watch over it, this all starting from really ancient times where the titans still where under Hade's control.

(Too short, I don't have brainrot about it still sob sob)

Role? — All the way Magic 💙

Ortho Shroud,

I might say what he straightforward would be a guest cookie or a rare one if we are talking about alive sentient robot Ortho (When Idia overblot) but i'm going to go for epic or rare. Ortho is a machine, all in all, he's not 100% alive. Yes he may have a heart, he may feel human emotions and all that jazz, but if he hes stabbed hes still going to live because Idia can just fix him, hes a robot, an adorable one with feelings, but still a robot (don't attack me pls gods of Twisted Wonderland 😭)

For why i think he may be epic is some simple reasons, cookie run doesn't have too much advantage technology, the best we have seen have been in TBD and Golden Cheese Kingdom, and still its not that much. Ortho is really powerful, and forehand can search for any kind of info in the internet along with being a walking Wikipedia, Calculator, etc etc you get it. At the start of the Ignihyde arc we can easily see how he was able to track Grim after his rampage because of eating way too many damn Blot Crystals. And i leave it here because i don't have brainrot to continue.

Role? — Bomber(¿)

Scarabia -

Kalim Al-Asim,

I'm not too sure about him, i could go for Epic which would be the minimum, but I don't knowwww... Ughwhehdheb

Okay basic things, his unique magic— Oasis Maker. It summons large units of water, rain, etc with little effort from him, meaning he may have a vast and large magic affinity or not, we can't really confirm it as the main one and the spotlight was Jamil, not him, well yes he was show as much as Jamil butttt ughrhfh not enough brainrot. So i'm just going to leave him in between Super Epic and Epic, as we have to take in account his family richness and the fact what is a well know merchant family what may aswell call themselves royalty with how rich they are.

What role would he be? — Healer probs

Jamil Viper,

Similar to Kalim i'm not entirely sure about him. Epic fits him well, badly well. I can't really elaborate on his part and this may end really short

Basics; Snake Whisper, don't judge but I can't hardly stop thinking what his attack in cookie version isn't going to summon snakes lmao, basic but practical. I can't really think much of him, yes hes strong as hell in the game (history)

Role? — Ambush probs

[realityparty]

fell on black days | in the beginning

part i. in the beginning

summary - Dean tried not to think about the past, but it had a funny way on sneaking up on it. The End AU

pairing: dean x jo

warnings: typical canon violence

notes: I know if I don’t post this now, I never will. so I hope you guys enjoy it. 

[part ii] [part iii]

[masterlist]

The end happened rather quickly. 

Quicker than Jo Harvelle even anticipated as a Hunter. She knew the world was fragile, but people and their laws and logic were no match for the supernatural, who abided by no laws. Or rather, the all-powerful angels who wanted to throw a temper tantrum with the whole world as their sandbox. 

She knew this could have been the outcome. She had been well aware of the pending apocalypse. The war that was anticipated between Heaven and Hell - Michael and Lucifer.  She knew she was one of the few that knew anything was brewing back in 2006 when grieving brothers stepped through her mother’s door. 

She had been there for the first phase of it with War in River Pass, Colorado. She still didn’t know if she was upset or just frustrated with how easily she was compromised during that hunt. It was just another thing her mother had used to show that she shouldn’t - couldn’t - hunt alone. It was just apparent evidence that she was still some naïve schoolgirl. 

Yet, she was still here. She was still fighting and surviving. She was at least prepared. It was more than most had. She knew how to live off the grid. How to pack efficiently and effectively for all weather types. How to ration her food. She knew how to steal cars and move in the shadows. She knew what lived in the shadows. 

Having all those technical skills still didn’t prepare her for everything. Most of the time, she traveled alone, especially after what happened in the beginning. She didn’t think she had it in her to be with other people. One, it had been proven time and time again that people were worst than monsters. Jo knew that good people don’t survive. They are the ones that seem to run out of luck. Good people are the ones to make the sacrifices for others to survive - to live. 

It was why Jo didn’t think she was a good person - not anymore. It wasn’t just zombies or Croats that she needed to worry about. Monsters were fighting to survive in the depleting food chain. She didn’t think she could worry about herself and try to keep others safe. She was tired of being the last person standing when a camp falls. 

The screams, the terror, and the children were just gone, Jo didn’t think she could handle that anymore. She knew in ways there was a strength in numbers. She knew it deep in her bones, but with this new world, it seemed she was always bathing in the blood of good people. 

Jo wiped a hand across her forehand. The weather was in a state of flux. It was that cold heat where the sun was burning brightly, but the wind bit through the clothes. She was covered in blood, dirt, and sweat as her legs burned to put distance between her and the utter destruction of a small camp she happened to come across. 

She had been alone for days. Her voice was hoarse from the lack of use when she had stumbled upon Lee and Krissy Chambers, a father and daughter duo with Victor Rogers. Both men were hunters. She remembered Lee had been a somewhat frequent patron of the Roadhouse. It was the only reason she stopped to relieve the numbness in her feet. The body also had a breaking point. It could have been no longer than an hour or two after the sun had set when the nest attacked. 

It was a nest of 6 vampires. Jo had taken out two. One had immediately attacked her and she barely managed to sever the head with her hunting knife. Victor had no chance of surviving immediately. His two attackers had gone for the throat. Lee was doubled-teamed as well. Jo was ashamed to admit she thought of running, but she grabbed her machete and immediately hacked into the vampire attacking Krissy. 

Jo knew that it was no use trying to save Lee. As they ran, she grabbed their packs and tugged Krissy along. She ignored the fact that vampires had their scents for life. She knew that they would probably follow their trail. 

They ran and ran. They stopped briefly when a storm cloud passed and they hid in the trunk of a car. Krissy’s loud sobs had turned into hard shakes. The trunk smelled of mold, sweat, and blood. For a moment, with the sliver of moonlight peeking through the trunk of the car. She was reminded of her first hunt in HJ Holmes's tomb he kept his victims. Those times were much simpler. She wished someday she could go back. She wished to relieve the stupid arguments with her mother. Teasing Ash for his inability to lie. Beating hunters at poker. She even missed her horrid days in college. 

Jo knew it was lethal to have these thoughts. Nostalgia was a powerful and dangerous drug. 

She didn’t even realize Krissy was no longer shaking. From the small puffs of air and the even breaths, the girl was asleep. 

Jo didn’t know where to go from here. The girl had to live with seeing her father torn apart by vampires. She had to grow up in this world. 

But through this, Jo had managed to save one person for another hour, minute, and day. That meant something and maybe she was still somewhat of a good person. 

. . . 

He couldn’t afford to remember the beginning. The smaller threads that got him - the world - to this point. Thinking about the past was a luxury he couldn’t afford and it only distracted him from the present. It was all just wasted energy. It only distracted from the present. 

Dean Winchester knew there was only pain and misery thinking about the way things used to be. Even now, fighting to survive if things somehow miraculously changed, things would still not be the same. They would never be. 

When he did lapse into the toxic drug of nostalgia, he wished to go back to the days when the monster to kill was just a ghost, heck even a vampire or a werewolf. Not a Coatoan zombie trying to tear his throat out. He missed the Impala and the open road. Now everything is overgrown and rusted. No classic rock or sweating leather to tide his days. 

Now it was checking inventory for food and weapons. Keeping a whole camp of twitchy survivors in check. 

And he wondered why he did it all. The start of the camp was haphazard at most. It had been more so Bobby’s idea with a few other hunters. Dean just nodded along, but somehow he ended up becoming the leader. Everyone ended up listening to him and his words. But he didn’t want that responsibility. 

But this was his burden. He played a part in this. All of this was because of him. He couldn’t shirk off that onto someone else. This was his mess to clean up. 

The mess kept getting bigger and bigger and the world was just a walking corpse. And the losses were piling up. The only thing he could cling to was warm beer, which his supply was rapidly depleting, and the fact Cas was still alive, broke, but still here. 

He winced as he thought about how Cas acted when he managed to break his foot and was laid up for two months. The plight of humanity - of being human - had crashed down pretty hard on Cas and before Dean could really blink he had himself a hippie with a commune. 

Dean eyed his wooden ceiling with its ceiling fan. He had the luxury of a ceiling fan. He thought about the run they had to do. They were going to venture further out and so far it’s been 30 days without an accident. He wasn’t going to pray and he didn’t have much hope, but he wanted all of his crew to make it back. They were aiming to be gone a week, but he knew it would quickly be extended to two weeks. 

Dean moved up from the bed and rolled his shoulders and neck sighing as the cracks eased the stiffness. He heard a familiar trek up his steps as he made his way to the kitchen to make himself some coffee. They had been lucky to find a nice stash and Dean was savoring every bit of it. He made a mental note to figure out how to grow coffee beans. 

“Oh fearless leader,” Cas announced before he was fully in the home. 

Dean didn’t bother greeting him and it is not like Cas expected it. 

“Everyone ready?”

“Yes, I got the supply list from Chuck. The cars are being checked out and loaded up.”

Dean nodded. And he tried to not be annoyed by Cas’ humming as he seemed to be in a chipper mood.

“You know, Dean, I feel it is going to be a good day.”

Dean ignored the coffee scalding his tongue. 

. . . 

Jo’s not sure how she exactly ended up in Montana. When the end happened, she and her mom were in Minnesota. It had taken about two months for them to even get to South Dakota to reach Bobby’s and by then the house had been overturned. She and her mom stayed for a couple of days and the plan was to go back to Nebraska. Her mom still had property, but her mom never made it. 

Jo just traveled. Alone. She had the hope deep down that maybe someone she knew was alive. Yet, she looked for safety for where ever. It just sucked that out of all the skills Jo had being a decent mechanic wasn’t one of them. 

“My feet are killing me,” Krissy groaned as Jo failed to start another car. 

Jo moved out the white beat-up Ford Taurus. She wiped her hands against her jeans. “Maybe we’ll come across some bikes. At least we wouldn’t run the chance of running out of gas.”

“Wishful thinking,” Krissy replied as she eyed their surroundings. 

Jo was surprised almost by the silence the end of the world brought. Even nature seemed quieter than she remembered. No humming from any type of motor. The birds seemed scared to chirp. It was a still silence that always made her on edge. 

“Come on, we are losing daylight.”

Krissy followed without complaint. The only sound between them is the jostling of their backpacks. Jo wanted to bring up what happened with her dad and Victor. She didn’t know how and even then Jo wanted the comfort of four walls before bringing up something like that. Jo knew how it felt to lose a parent and to witness it. 

The blonde hunter squinted as the sun began to get low and she made out an outline for a sign to a church. Jo noticed a beaten path and followed the trail that took them from the open road to the uneven terrain of the woods. 

They were about half a mile out when Jo finally saw the high church bell peak over into the horizon. Jo grabbed her sawed-off shotgun while Krissy grabbed her revolver. The church was small and picturesque. The white siding seemed to shine amongst the filth of the world. It seemed untouched - pure. She could’ve snorted thinking how a church of all places seemed to be a goddamn sanctuary. 

Jo nodded at Krissy to keep watch in the front as she checked the sides and back of the church. She couldn’t see any movement from the stained glass windows. There was no blood or brain matter smeared against the siding. The only thing that stained the church was the outside elements. Jo frowned as it seemed the only way in or out of the church was through the front. 

Jo met Krissy out front, her body on edge for any type of attack. She noticed Krissy was trying to act tough, but even in her stance of holding the gun didn’t hold confidence. It’s weird now that Jo could slightly see where her mom’s concern about the life stemmed from. This world of monsters shouldn’t be bestowed on any child. Jo could see that now through an adult lens of a jaded hunter. 

“Follow my lead,” Jo told her before they entered the church. They check every crook and cranny. There was a bathroom, an office space, and a storage room. They found the usual Christianity paraphilia. They even found a small stash of canned food with an inventory full of communion wine and dust. 

Jo didn’t like the feel of the place. However, the dust did show evidence that no one had been here for a while. 

“We can fortify this place. It’s also close to a small town. It could be something,” Krissy said as she stood on the altar. 

“Could be,” Jo muttered. Jo didn’t like it. There was no type of fencing. To take watch would be clearly shit. There was no advantage point. If they were attacked, they would be screwed. The place only offered to be a temporary option. A nice reprieve until they found something better. Yet, Jo knew that there might not be something better out there. 

Jo rubbed her forehead. “Let’s fortify this place.”

“So we’re staying?”

“For now,” Jo told her. 

They covered all the windows with boards and carved the inside with as many protection symbols that were ingrained in her memory. Krissy fell asleep quickly after that and it left Jo on watch out front. She just had the front steps to set up with her gun. 

The night was cooler. She could hear some birds - or most likely - bats flying in the distance. She knew Krissy wanted to stay here. She could understand the desire as being on the road with the elements could wear anyone down. Yet, it would require serious planning to make this a home. Jo thought that was what she needed most. Even as a hunter Jo always had a place to stay considering her mom’s connection. Jo shook her head she wasn’t going to go down that route. It wouldn’t lead to anywhere but misery. 

Instead, despite it all, she prayed. She prayed to Castiel and hoped that everything was okay. That Rufus was still out there fighting strong. Ash, her mom, and Bobby were in heaven. She prayed that Sam and Dean were okay. 

She prayed if anything that they had each other. 

. . .

Dean didn’t mind going on runs. The risks were high and it required trusting others to a degree to watch his back, but it was a break away from the camp. It was one of the few ways to keep sharp on his skills and to properly make note of the world and its decay. 

Besides, he never knew what could lead to a clue to the Colt. 

The Colt was the only thing he had that gave him some hope that this all could end. For now, his chief concern was finding toilet paper before Chuck had a stroke. He would think with the man being a prophet and all he could have foreseen the shortage of the ass wipe. Chuck also brought up the concern of condoms and babies. 

The one thing Dean didn’t want to deal with was telling people how to be responsible between the sheets. He knew he couldn’t outright say no babies, but Dean wanted to. They were already struggling, caring for the few families at the camp. 

Yet, he knew it was better to be safe and proactive. The end of the world wouldn’t stop hedonism, hence Cas. 

Dean looked up at the stars and wondered if “God” was listening. Yet, Dean knew that familiar pain of absent fathers. It was the oldest child stuck with the task of watching and protecting. It was them making sure there was enough food for the week if that meant him skipping out on meals. They made sure scrapped knees were mended and homework was done. 

God’s reward was punishment. Punishment because he loved his family too much. 

. . . 

Sleep did not come easy for Jo. In this new world, she could only afford 4 hours every night. If she was lucky she was able to get 5 hours. 

Even when she was a hunter, she was lucky when she could get a decent amount of rest. Sure, she had the occasional night of nightmares that interrupted a normal sleep schedule. In the beginning, she had that false impression that it was good she would hound over a case for hours. Neglecting sleep was a must in her naive brain. 

However, sleep was probably the most important thing the body needed. Being groggy and sleep-deprived would only put herself in danger, but the people she was trying to save. Sleep, food, and water were the things she kept on her priority list. 

In the dark walls of the church, she wanted to drift to sleep. She wanted to escape the circumstances of what life was like now. Yet, every creak and breath Krissy took kept her alert. As much as Krissy claimed to be able to handle herself and was adamant she could take care of herself, it was tainted by the fact Krissy didn’t know how to mute her steps on a wooden floor. 

Instead, Jo found herself in one of those sleeps with her eyes open. Where her mind was blank, but her body was lethargic and just creeping on that precipice of a few moments of bliss. 

Jo didn’t want to admit it, but her constant fight and survival mode wore out on her. She was trying to figure out really want the end goal was for the angels and demons at this point. If they shred the world apart what was there to gain from that? 

Although Jo learned nothing would come from trying to figure out the motive of things. Sometimes things couldn’t be explained. 

Jo rubbed her eyes and the next thing she knew the sun was staining the glass windows. She leaned up from the church pew with her body protesting every move. 

She sighed, knowing she needed to figure out their next steps. This place could be something if they tried. Or a nice pit stop to let their bodies recharge before trying to find something more permanent. 

“You think we should try to loot the town?”

Jo licked her lips. They were tight from the lack of balm. Her breath was sour. Toothpaste or some type of mints were high on her want list. Jo rubbed her forehead before she looked at Krissy. 

“Yeah. Should do that early to figure out our prospects in staying here.”

The walk to town was about 40 minutes. Clouds cover the sun, and the chill still causes Jo's skin to become damp through the trek.

Jo thought she would sell her soul for a shower. 

They reached an abandoned Salvation Army. The store looked like a time capsule. Racks were still full of clothes and the appliances that lined the shelves were coated with a blanket of dust. 

Yet, the most treasured find was located in the basement, apparently. In the middle of the store, the ground had caved in and flooded. From their viewpoint, it seemed the basement was the storage room and there were shelves lined with canned goods. Jo even spotted toilet paper. 

“Just think we can grab you an extra pair of socks,” Krissy commented as Jo went over the dilemma. There seemingly was no con outside of the water damage that could be done to her clothes. 

Jo rubbed her face, as it seemed she was going swimming. Jo began to remove her top layers and stuffed them into her bag. She was going into the water while Krissy waited at the top to grab each item. 

She placed her hair in a high bun before placing her foot on the creaky wooden step. 

“God, this water smells like ass.”

“I can smell it,” Jo countered as the cool water reached her ankle. As she waded in deeper with the water coming up underneath her chest, she wasn’t going to ponder the filth that could be in the water. She assumed it was just as bad as the guts, brains, and blood of the various monsters she hunted. 

She waded in the water with her bowie knife tight in her grip. The water had a slimy consistency. She could see spiders jumping around. She winced at the uncomfortable squish of her feet against her boots as she reached the first shelf. There was a landmine of good finds, especially  the toilet paper that wasn’t submerged in the water. She knew people would kill for these items. 

She grabbed the first clear tote that was filled with boxed goods. From her quick glance, it seemed to be filled with rice, potatoes, and pancake mix. She easily cleared the first shelf. 

When she moved to cross the room to the stash of paper goods a ripple in the water made her stop.

"Everything okay?" Krissy called from the top of the stairs. 

Jo tightened the hold on her knife. She watched the water and waited for a ripple. Maybe it was just her movement. 

"I'm going to grab a pack of toilet paper," Jo announced as she looked up at Krissy. She watched as Krissy's intense look of concentration changed to horror. 

Jo felt herself being grabbed by her shoulders and submerged under the water. The contaminated water filled her lungs choking her. 

She could hear Krissy screaming as she fought against the grip pulling her down. Jo used her knife and cut at the wrist that was pulling her. 

She could hear a startled scream and the grip on her shoulder was gone. 

Jo kicked her legs and her eyes burned in the murky water. She kicked her legs and her lungs were fighting for air as she swam her way to the top. 

The swim was longer than anticipated. Her fingers glided over the sharp edges of torn concrete. 

Jo realized the leak in the basement wasn't just an ordinary leak.

She breached the surface coughing while trying to get in air. Her eyes widen as Krissy moved down the steps. 

"No, don't come down here!" Jo screamed. She tried to move quickly but the water slowed her down. 

"Is it a Croat!"

Jo coughed. Her lungs burned as she tried to reach the steps. She could feel her warm blood pouring down her shoulder from the talons. She grabbed the wooden stairwell. 

"No, I think it's a water nymph."

"I thought they were peaceful?"

Jo nodded her head as they usually were. She imagined the end of the world fucked up the food chain. Monsters that were docile and friendly were desperate and turned ravenous. 

Jo placed a foot on the bottom step when she felt the wood break away from underneath her. She stumbled and scraped her arm against the stairs as she tried to catch her balance. She grunted as the feeling of wood became embedded in her skin. 

"Shit!" 

"Jo!"

It was the only warning she had before she felt a grip on her ankle trying to pull her down. Jo latched on the wooden step as she kicked her leg out. She knew the step wasn't going to hold long. 

She screamed as the nymph's talons pierced into her calf. 

"Fuck!" 

A loud bang echoed and the grip on Jo's ankle loosen. Jo looked up to find Krissy holding her gun. Jo looked behind her and found a floating nymph surrounded by a halo of blood in the murky water. The packet of toilet paper bumped into the still body.

Jo hissed as she moved to stand straighter. She steadied herself as she grabbed the toilet paper and handed it off to Krissy. 

. . . 

Jo didn't want to admit that her body was hurting. They were able to patch her up in the store where she was her own stained glass of bruises and scrapes. Of course, it was the splinter that hurt the most. It wasn't the talons that sliced her that had her cursing everything. It was the piece of rotting wood that had her hissing and on the verge of tears. 

She wasn't sure if the toilet paper was worth it. 

Though the fire in the church had her nice and warm, then maybe the wine she was drinking contributed to the warm feeling in her cheeks. Jo knew it was probably stupid to be drinking in the first place. 

Wine wasn't even a favored drink of hers. Growing up in a roadhouse it wasn't as if they kept red or white wine on tap. Although wine could be an acquired taste. Who knew the apocalypse would have her drinking wine over beer and tequila? She could admit at least the wine did have a decent taste. It's sweet, not dry. And she couldn't feel the stinging of her cuts anymore. 

"So are we staying?"

Jo's head felt heavy as she looked up at Krissy. Krissy was full of hope and optimism. “Yeah, we’re staying.”

. . . 

Jo didn’t remember closing her eyes or even laying her head down on a pillow. Her body felt heavy. Her mouth was dry. Her lips felt as if they were glued together. Opening her mouth, the fresh air stung her lips. 

She wasn’t sure what woke her now, though. Her eyes fought against the crust to open. She flexed her fingers as she tried to hear any movement from Krissy from her soft snoring, the scratching of a pencil, or the sound of fabric running together from walking. 

Instead, there was an eerie silence within the black church. Her fingers searched for the knife that was strapped to her thigh. She gripped the handle as she moved from the cocoon of blankets. Moving slowly from the couch, she winced as the wooden plank creaked under her weight. Her body was on high alert as she moved closer to the door. It’s filled with the tension and simmering adrenaline that only came from a hunt. Something was not right, and she regretted the wine she drank earlier. Creeping quietly to the door, she waited for some sign of life. Her hands are about to grasp the doorknob when a scream of her name ripped through the still of the night. 

. . . 

Dean was restless. Since they crossed over into Montana something had been off. He can’t put his finger on it, but years of hunting have told him to trust his gut instinct. It was the reason he had made it alive this long. Since they made camp in the abandoned schoolyard he felt queasy. The building was half burnt down with charred bricks and busted windows. 

His group had easily made themselves at home. Made a feast out of baked beans and got cozy for the night. He couldn’t settle and he found his way walking the perimeter before he caught sight of a trail that had directions to a church. 

His feet began following the path before his mind caught up to him. He thought the last place he would ever think to seek out would be a church. Yet, he found that most of the survivors they come across have been in churches. They think there was a God out there to protect or worse save them. 

The path was filled with fallen leaves and plenty of twigs. It made it hard to have quiet footsteps, which was why he could make the heavy tread of Cas' steps. The fallen angel hadn't quite recovered since he broke his foot. 

"I know you're following me, Cas," Dean called out. 

"Our fearless leader shouldn't be walking alone in the woods."

Dean didn't bother giving Cas a response. Not like his response would matter. The Cas from before was slowly drifting away. It's being replaced by this human version of Cas being beaten and broken by free will. This once angelic being has been stripped down to a simple human being filled with weaknesses. 

Dean didn't know at this point if death would be a mercy to Cas. He wondered if other angels mocked the once-respected General. 

But that was what happened when you touched Dean Winchester. He corrupted if he didn't get them killed. 

"There is something different here."

Cas' words made Dean stop. He turned to look at his friend. "Are your angel senses tingly?"

The expression on Cas' face gave Dean pause. He wasn't looking at a high Cas or post-coitus one. The serious expression on his face reminded Dean of the early days. Those brief meetings with Cas when he was raised from hell. The face of a soldier preparing for battle. 

Even the walk turned from languid to swift and stiff. Dean thought he could see the silhouette of the abandoned trench coat. 

Dean didn't have a chance to open his mouth for further probing when a scream pierced through the night. 

It’s the innate instinct of a hunter. His feet glided over the twigs, rocks, and all the other debris found in the woods. As he moved closer, he could see the silhouette of the church. It wasn’t a grand display of opulence. It seemed to be a tiny house that, at the last minute, was converted into a place of worship. Cas signaled he was going to check the church from the back. 

The sound of a crash broke his musings on the exterior design. His grip was tight on his gun as he approached the door slowly. He could make the distinct sounds of a struggle. There were things crashing. Grunts and cries of pain. 

It startled him when the door burst open and a body flew down the short stairs. The body landed hard, which even made him wince. The person groaned as their fingers scraped the earth to get their bearings. 

The echo of footsteps approached. “You see, we were going to be merciful. Drain you slowly…”

Dean froze as the person walked past him. The person was too concerned with its prey in front of them. 

He watched as the person turned on their back. The person saw him and fell back laughing. In the dark of the night, he couldn’t make out much, but he knew that voice. He knew that laugh. 

“What’s so funny, hunter?”

A voice that haunted him on the loneliness of nights caused goosebumps to erupt across his skin. 

“Dean Winchester is behind you.”

[mizumiii]

II - An old tale

Previous part - Table of contents - Next part

Fem!Reader x Kenpachi Zaraki

Good evening! I was not very motivated to post the following chapters but since you were some to read, it gave me the will I lacked!

You opened your eyes with a strange sensation. You were feeling light and the pain was nothing more than a distant memory, your mind was stress-free and at peace. It was odd but not unpleasant. It was like the last gruesome instants of your life had happened to someone else. At that very second, you froze. No way. There was just no way you would just forget about your harsh life and simply get over it. You fumed for a while, walking in a circle in the middle of the empty street with your thoughts in a mess.

“Oh, hello there”, sing-sang someone.

You raised your head to meet an incredible mess of orange hair. The woman in front of you was wearing strange dark clothes, and even odder she had a sword at her belt. 

“Who are you?” You asked.

“I'm Koyo, and I'm here to help you”, the explanation was a tad wasted by her hand reaching for her sword.

“How are you going to help me with your sword??”

“I'm a shinigami, I'll help you cross to the soul society”, Koyo added as if it was obvious.

“It's shady as hell!” You almost yelled.

“Listen, you must have noticed that you're dead, no?”

It was difficult to object to this. You had felt yourself die. But that was this and this was that. 

“Don't wanna.”

A heavy silence. The easygoing expression of Koyo melted in total incomprehension.

“You can't stay there, your soul is gonna crumble away and you'll turn into a soulless starving monster called Hollow.”

You pondered. You could not accept that your life was so easily wasted and finished. How could a random girl arbitrarily set your ancient life aside and send you to the next as if your eighteenth past years had been just a joke. You were feeling so dejected and angry but had no one to address it. Because it was obvious to you that Koyo was not at fault there. But it did not make it any less infuriating. 

“So now let me do my job, and let's both go on with our lives.” The shinigami tried to convince you. “Look I'm just gonna press the safe end of my sword on your forehand and like this, you'll be safe and I'll be able to go back to my meditation.”

In a swift move, Koyo drew her sword and bumped your face before you could say anything. You blinked. But nothing happened. Koyo blinked too. Then touch you again with her weapon's pommel. And again. And again. Each time a bit harder. 

“Hey ! Hey! Stop! You're hurting me!” You shouted then massaged your reddening forehead. 

“Is it broken? Can it break?” Koyo was losing face in her shinigami's equipment. “Meiseki, why are you slacking!”

She even desperately tried to bump her forehead. But to no avail. 

“Be honest, you do not have the slightest idea how it works ?” You judgmentally asked. 

“Usually it works, I don't need to know why… Just wait a moment, I'll deal with it…” Koyo sighed desperately, before grabbing her phone, “Yes Koyo on the phone, of course, I'm working, why do you sound so surprised Kotetsu-san?” She ignored your shameless scoff. “I found a soul but the konsô doesn't work on her. What? Does she have a soul chain?....No? Yes, I'm sure she's dead. Her corpse is next to us, with her head smashed open.”

You shivered. Before you dared look, a huge Japanese's style door suddenly appeared. 

“Please follow me, to the Seireitei, the shinigami's place in Soul society…”

“Try to look happy to be working”, you laughed, taking a step forward. 

There was nothing else waiting for you there, with the living. So you should just keep moving forward and see what was waiting for you on the other side. When you opened your eyes on the Seireitei, you heard Koyo speak to someone else passing by.

“Good morning Captain Kenpachi.”

Next part

[peaterookie]

Lupin III Chapter 54 Review

hiii its time again

today's chapter cover is someone carrying a tied-up lupin in a suitcase.. someone with a hat… and has noticeable beard chin… and has a lanky figure….. and smokOH MY GOD IT'S JIGEN!!!

why is jigen so shady?? why did he kidnap lupin??? FIND OUT RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!!!

once again, lupin is back to being a shady no-good businessman this will probably end after chapter 55 dont worry im kinda getting tired of this too yknow i never thought the whole thing with lupin following orders pretending to be a white collar worker was a good thing anyway because hes gonna fuck things up anyway doing it like 3 times gets a bit old!

this time he's meeting up with a man with a really big forehead and another fujiko

and they're kinda trying to kill each other for some reason they talk for like one second and then big forehead dude leaves, leaving a mysterious assassin to take care of lupin and drives off! weird!

the mysterious assassin reveals that its none other than jigen daisuke! lupin is super shocked! but i think most manga readers saw this coming- i mean he didn't treat jigen any good in the first place…

still, lupin manages to escape the whole ordeal rather unscathed, and comes back to the company that he got hired under

the boss reveals why lupin and the big forehead guy was up against each other apparently the big forehead guy is the president of a rival company, and his devious ass decided to steal the blueprints from them to pass the invention as his own!!

in this panel above lupin saids that they could just steal them back, but the boss saids that they already produced the thingy in the blueprint already sucks to suck

oh yeah the big forehead guy is named kajino but im gonna ignore that because the nickname i gave is way funnier

THEN JIGEN COMES BACK then lupi- oh damn. that's.. rather unfortunate.

big forehead dude scolds jigen for fucking it up and he kinda leaves saying he can still kill lupin then he winks look at that smile :)

ok then now big forehead guy with his stupid big forehead reveals that the product in question is an underwater cabin!! thats kinda cool do we have that in real life now? ill look it up after finishing this

a bunch of reporters swarm him asking questions about the cabin two reporters says that they've heard rumors that he stole the cabin idea from a rival company then fujiko (the woman RIGHT at the beginning of the chapter) accuses one of the reporters as lupin- which she was quite right about! then the second reporter than reveals himself as zenigata, and he arrests lupin. (i wonder why he doesn't arrest the big forehead guy though, manga zeni literally works on a whole different wavelength than anime zeni tbh)

then another revelation! one after another

jigen pops out of nowhere once again and reveals that hes the one that tipped lupin's plans off to Big Forehand Man and lupins like oh my god i hate you jigen im gonna get a new friend

i cant why are both of them smiling what if this is all an inside joke they find it funny jigen keeps betraying him out of nowhere but ok whatever lupin escapes again the usual

then we timeskip!

Big Forehead Guy and fujiko stalk a guy from rival company and they see him entering an underground vault to do more research so they decide to follow him, steal his ideas, and kill him with…

..huh? sure monkey punch! ill go with it

they enter the vault then they had to take their clothes off to prevent being detected with sensors

Big Forehead Man sees two vaults- one for male and one for female and advises fujiko to part ways and investigate both sides on their own

and then… HUH

OH HELL NAW LUPIN'S GONNA FUCK HER-

[the-broken-truth]

ABJ: CHAPTER THREE - THE ROMANIAN VILLAGE, THE VILLAGERS, AND THE METAL MAN

As I trudged through the blizzard, the freezing wind howled and whipped my hair around. The snow was deep, reaching up to my shins. Had I been in my wolf form, it would have been effortless, but alas, I was unable to transform due to the amulet pressed against my chest. There was something about the dormant power within the amulet that was affecting my abilities, but it didn't matter as long as my shadow blood kept me warm. I lifted my hand to shield my face from the bitter cold, pressing forward through the storm.

'Locate the village. Find Mother Miranda. Locate the missing power ruby. Find my mother and leave; sounds simple enough...but nothing is simple in my life as the daughter of Fenrir...and apparently the daughter of a Romanian Sage.' As I approached the cliff, the wind seemed to ease up, making the blizzard feel less intense. I took my hand away from my face and gazed down upon the Romanian Village. Despite the old and worn-out appearance of the houses, the massive castle that overshadowed the village seemed brand new. Looking down at the cliff's face, I noticed a few spots where I could jump down but the thought of falling and hitting my head made me cringe. After fluffing out my tail, I cautiously leaped down from the cliff and landed on my feet in a crouched position. I repeated this pattern for three more platforms before finally reaching the bottom and standing upright.

'This place looks abandoned. How could anyone live here?' I thought as i started walking through the village, picking through the windows to see they were empty and completely deserted. I waved my tail as I looked around when my keen ears picked up the sound of someone humming. "Humming? Someone is here?" I thought as I walked through the rocky snowy ground; I rounded the corner and saw a woman - she was small, around half my size, with a stick as a walking cane, draped in a black cloak with her back to me; I walked over to her and lifted my hand to get her attention but she turned o face me and I saw her clear eyes and her silver hair.

"A Stranger? Here in this village? You must be rather brave or rather stupid to venture for this place." The old lady said to me before she looked up at my tail and ears, "You are not human. What kind of creature are you?"

"I'm..." I was cut off by the sound of a monstrous roar echoing around me, I turned and flexed my claws with my ears flat on my head in an aggressive manner and narrowed my eyes; the wind howling and the roaring getting louder and closer. "You need to get out of here - something is coming!" I called to the woman behind me but when I turned to look at her, she was gone! Did she get out of here when she heard that roar? I didn't have time to question it when I saw a shadow out of the corner of my eye dart at me; I jumped out of the way, causing the creature to crash into one of the abandoned houses, going through the wall. I stood at my full height as the creature walked out of the hole and back into the snow, it was...I honestly didn't know what it was. It had the body of a man but it was converted in grey fur with a face that was morphed into a snout; it didn't have a tail but it did have claws and fangs.

'What the hell is that?' I thought as the creature and I circled around each other before the creature lunged at me again and I dodged before lunging at the creature's back, using my claws to slice the creature black making it whimper in pain before it turned and swiped it at me, but I used my forehand to clock the massive arm before using my other arm to lash out my claw towards the creature's neck and slicing its' throat. It stumbled back, holding its' throat before falling to its' knees, the blood leaked through the cracks of its fingers before it fell to the ground and bleed out; stopping its' movements. I looked down at the creature when I heard something fall behind me, I turned around and growled, only to be met with a scared shriek. It was a woman.

A Human Woman.

She had pale skin, long brown hair in a ponytail, wearing a brown dress with her hands covering her heart and fear in her eyes, I quickly recovered myself and held my hands up in a hold-on motion.

"Wait! It's okay! You don't have to be afraid of me!" I quickly said but the woman looked at me and then the creature on the ground before she opened her mouth to speak.

"You... You killed the Lycan." She said, I raised my eyebrow in confusion before looking at the dead creature on the ground before looking at the woman again.

"You're telling me this creature is a Lycan?" I asked as I held my hand out to the creature, she nodded, "This doesn't look like any kind of Lycan I ever saw before. Are you alone in this village? Where are the rest of the villagers?" I asked the woman while walking closer to her, I towered over her by a head and she looked rather scared of my height...or was it my blood-soaked claws? I couldn't really tell at the moment.

"N-N-No. There are other villagers. They are at my house where it is safe; for the moment at least." The woman said, I nodded and asked her to take me there; the more people I found, the better of a lead I would have on this 'Mother Miranda'. "Well, you did defeat a Lycan; I'm sure my father will help you with anything you need."

"Your Father?" I asked.

"Leonardo Lupu, he's not feeling well after he was attacked by a Lycan but he's strong and he will be alright." The woman said - I raised my eyebrow, Her Father was tackled by a Lycan; there's a possibility that he was infected and might be a danger to the people that are with him.

"Alright, take me there; by the way, my name is Broken. What is your name?" I asked as she started to walk away in the direction of her Father's House

"My name is Elena Lupu and...wait...Your Real Name is Broken? That's kind of a sad name." Elena said as she looked back at me, I nodded before we reached her house, only to be met with a male human with a shotgun, he pointed it back at me.

"Who are you?! What are you doing here?!" He demanded as he pointed his gun at my head.

"You must be Elena's Father - Leonardo Lupu, correct?" I asked as I raised my hands in a surrender motion, showing him that I was not a threat to him or the people he was housing.

"How do you know that?" He asked with a glare on his face.

"Your daughter told me, I saved her from a Lycan Attack and she brought me here to get some information: I need to find someone named Mother Miranda." I said in a calm voice but Leonardo just continued to glare at me before going into a coughing fit, causing his daughter to run over to his side and keep him standing. He soon recovered before questioning me again.

"What do you want with our Village Leader?" Leonardo asked as he lowered his gun.

"I'm looking for my mother and I have a source stating that Mother Miranda knows where my mother is. Please, can you help me?" I asked while lowering my hands but a familiar scent filled my nose - Lycan Scent - and it was coming from the man; Elena did tell me that he was attacked by the beast but something wasn't right - I think he was infected.

Leonardo looked at his daughter and then at me before lowering the gun all the way and inviting me inside, I wrapped my tail around my waist again and followed him and Elena inside the house where the other people were. Some of them weren't happy to see me but when Elena told them that I bested the Lycan, they allowed me to stay. Suddenly, they all gathered hands and started praying to Mother Miranda when Leonardo started coughing again, even worse than before. The smell on him was getting stronger - he was turning!

"EVERYONE, GET AWAY FROM HIM! HE'S TURNING INTO A LYCAN!" I yelled as I jumped lunged at him and pinned him to the ground as the struggled and jerked around as he tried to break my hold, I commanded the people once again to get out of the building and they listened just in time for the transformation to take control. Leonardo kicked me off of him and swiped at my face but I dodged and used my claws and cut into his chest and face, making him whimper in pain before I jumped on him again and sunk my fangs into his neck to keep him still but he was moving around too much and tried to knock me off but I released my hold on his neck and used my claws to slice his throat - just like I did with the previous one. His blood leaked from the wound until he fell silent and I rose to my feet before limping out of the house with the other people.

"Is...Is he dead?" One of the villagers asked.

"Yes the Lycan is dead but you guys need to get somewhere safer than here. Is there another building with better security?" I asked before looking at Elena, who was crying at the loss of her father, "I'm sorry, Elena." I looked at the ground.

"It's not your fault; that thing wasn't my father. If your looking for Mother Miranda, go to the chapel; just be careful - if the Lycans won't get you, the Lords will." Elena said as she walked to the other people and told them about another place they could hide. I looked in the direction of the chapel and started heading that way.

"The Lords? Who are they?" I questioned myself as I walked to the chapel doors. A few twists and turns, a few doors opened and some obstacles conquered, I reached a door with a lever on it but before I could even touch the metal of the lever, I smelled something else: Cigar Smoke. Then, I heard a male voice coming behind me.

"Well, well." I turned and come face to face with a man - he was tall, around my height, with a green trench cat, white undershirt, tan pants with black boots; he had a metal rod-like necklace around his neck and...he was carrying a hammer, a giant hammer that was man-made and it looked like there was a truck engine ft the metal. Speaking of metal, the bits of metal that were on the ground was now levitating off the ground around this man - could he control metal? I turned at looked at him with wide eyes but he continued talking.

"Didn't think anyone was left! You must be pretty tough, huh, Wolfy?" He asked as he dropped his cigar and stopped on it.

"Who are you?" I asked him.

"Oh, you're not local! Even better!" He smiled as he pointed at me, causing a metal pole to come flying at me and pierced me in the stomach, I roared in pain but didn't fall as he lifted his hand and all the metal surrounding him attached to my body, locking me in place, I snarled at the man chuckled.

"Mother Miranda's gonna love you." He smiled as he lifted his hand, causing the metal and myself to levitate off the ground.

[trigger-happy-in-red]

"There waz no way in hell I waz gonna go back. I wanted ta find her, see if she could take me in when my good luck ran out.

“I went through all the numbers Willis had written down. There were three S names, and it was all too easy ta find which one birthed me. Her name was Shelia Haywood.

“She worked for a charity in Ethiopia. So I booked a flight, waved the last name Todd-Wayne around when people have me funny looks, and went ta meet her.

“Turns out, the Joker waz blackmailing her. Threatening her life. So- I told her I was Robin. I told her I could help.

“She tol’ me, ‘Go to this warehouse on the twenty-seventh. It’ll be completely empty. You c’n find evidence against him there.’

“I trusted her. That was my bigg’st mistake.

“I did as she said. ‘She was the adult, I was the kid. The Alley Rat who doesn’t make the decisions here.’

“She’d sold me out ta th’ Joker.

He- he locked me inside. All I could hear was his laughter and the scrape of the crowbar on concrete.”

Now that he’s started talking about it, the story of his death spilled into the air like seawater through a cannonball hole.

“I ran, but he put a bullet through my leg and caught me.

"Th’ Joker beat me most'a th' way ta death wit’ tha’ damn crowbar ov'r sev’n er eight hours. He kept- kept talkin’ at me, and laughin’ th’ whole time. ‘What hurts more? A, or B? Forehand, or Backhand?’ There was a time bomb, too. That's what finish’d me off.

“I woke up an' claw'd myself out of my coffin six months later.”

@cant-have-shit-in-gotham

Jason is sitting on Wil’s couch with a cup of tea, trying to figure out how to begin his tale.