#they’re all in tank tops cause I was trying to figure out their designs in general

[valeovalairs]

that one guy that said the original line up was an Ashe away from Weezer, you were so right

Full image below cut

[payservewomen]

It’s official. I’ve genuinely become addicted to a self destructive gumbo of humiliation, findom, and femdom. But it’s far more than that…..I’ve purchased and watched countless “negative affirmation” videos, all of which are designed to cause real emotional pain.

I’ve come to learn that most of the men who are in similar situations, are far less self aware than I am.

I fully understand how and why I gravitated towards various types of self harm. Most of the men I’ve talked to….they are in denial, unaware of obvious issues they’re facing….or they simply have vastly different reasons that they hate themselves…understandable reasons.

At least they make sense! But me? I lost my virginity at 17yo, and had regular sex w/my girlfriend, who I broke up with several months later…I began dating another woman, only weeks later and we started fucking 2months later….I fell madly in love with her….

Years later, I was engaged to a rich woman…tbh she was far more in love with me, than I was her…Point is, I’ve had a relatively normal sex life, until my then fiancée, Emma, dumped me. I was 30yrs old. I’m turning 41 in less than 2 weeks, and Emma was the last girl I fucked..Successfully anyway

1 week after she dumped me, a sexy friend did sit on my cock…but only 1 pump and I wasn’t hard enough to continue. We continued hanging out, drinking etc…but i never tried anything…neither did she

Years later I fucked an extremely obese woman I wasn’t attracted to at all…I lasted much longer this time, maybe even close to a minute, and I was so exhausted, and went limp once again….

Over the next couple years, I went to massage parlors, mostly getting awful handjobs, from old women.

I tried having sex twice….and you guessed it! Not only did I go limp, but I never even got fully erect in the first place!

Oh wait, and another time….u already know what happened…

Past few years, I’ve paid women to be cruel to me. I’ve been beaten badly, had clothing taken from me, having to walk miles home in a thong and tank top. I’ve served as an ash tray, I’ve licked the bottoms of shoes…I’ve purchased used panties online, as well as garbage. Yes, I have paid $30 for pretty girls literal garbage…..I’ve humiliated myself for sadistic women’s amusement…Used my toothbrush in and on my asshole, then brushed my teeth…I chewed up raw eggs, then spit the egg onto my dirty floor, then slurped it back up, spit it into my hands and rubbed it all over my face, then continued edging myself until it all dried.

Look at what I just wrote! It’s all 100% true and there’s plenty more. How can I possibly think that there’s any real chance that I’ll beat this addiction?!

The chances are that I’ll continue paying the domme I serve. Yesterday she told me how much she hates me….and def won’t let me forget how disgusting my body is, and how ugly I am….I’m so desperate to please her…I def think she’s greatly enjoyed bullying me…especially when extremely violent. It seems to escalate every other time, and she recently posted a vid of a girl kicking a guy hard it the face, and she implied she wanted to do that.

I’m scared in many ways, but excited….There really isn’t anything I can think of that I would flat out refuse to do, if she told me to….Like what if one day she tells me to eat her shit? I do not in any way shape or form have a fetish for scat either…but I know that I would put her shit in my mouth, and at least try to swallow it….I am aroused at the thought of eating her boogers or period blood….As I type this, I feel such extreme shame…My dick is very slightly erect but I won’t stop tugging on it

Figure I should flick my balls, because ofc that’s what a loser as pathetic as me deserves

[sketchnskribbles]

To Overcome

Frightbear Crew AU [AO3]

[CH1] [CH2]

Chapter 3: Initial Greetings

Summary: The semester is almost over and the summer is coming quickly. Jennifer Acker needed to figure out what she was going to do for a job. Thankfully, her cousin calls and offers her one. Not as fortunate, she'd be helping design the props and rooms for his upcoming horror house based on all the myths and legends surrounding a particularly notorious failed restaurant chain. Despite her easily frightened nature, she accepts and is brought into a whirlwind of mystery surrounding the bloody past of Fazbear Entertainment. 

Welcome to Fazbear’s Frights, where the scares are fresh and the rabbit is out to get you.

A FnaF 3 AU, inspired by said game as well as FnaF: Security Breach

Genre: Adventure, Angst, Family Angst, Found Family, Horror, Mystery, Humor

Character(s): Springtrap/William Afton, Henry Emily, Charlotte Emily, The Puppet, Marionette, Foxy, Golden Freddy, Crying Child, Evan Afton, Ballora, Jeremy Fitzgerald, Original Character(s)

It had taken a few long months but Quinton had finally recruited his team of "Frightbears", as he'd taken to calling them. Jennifer could only hope that the name would phase out to something better in the future.

Currently, she was in the process of getting ready to meet her new co-workers in a few hours. She was searching through her closet for the perfect outfit to introduce herself with, but nothing seemed to be right. She muttered to herself erratically as she flung her clothes into an ever growing pile onto her floor. The girl took no notice of her brother who was happily playing on his portable handheld rather than help present her a second opinion, as she had originally wanted.

Harrison looked up from his game and stared at her back with unamused half-lidded eyes, when a tank top landed on his head.

"I don't think you need to try this hard to impress your new co-workers, Jenni. They're stuck with you, anyway." 

"Excuse me for wanting to give a good impression." She gave him a sharp look before resuming her frenzy. He had half a mind to continue antagonizing her but simply shrugged. His focus went back to his digital adventure. 

Jennifer gave a huff at her lack of clarity. A glance at the time gave cause to speed up her decision, which did little to ease her mind. She wished her mom was here to ask but the older woman was hard at work. It wasn't easy being one of the few certified veterinarians in the area.

Reluctantly, she chose a simple blue blouse and some black jeans. Could never go wrong with semi-casual. Afterward she scurried to finish up with the rest of her morning routine and fumbled with making some breakfast. Sometime, in all her haste, Harrison had made his way down to the dining table. All attention, still locked into his game.

Jennifer didn't hesitate to serve up two plates of still sizzling bacon, scrambled eggs, and buttered toast. She set them in front of her brother, who had finally seen a reason to set the device down, and herself. They sat there in relative silence, content to simply enjoy their food. It was in the middle of gulping down some orange juice that she realized something.

"Harry. You're out of school right now, right?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah…" He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"I know you're older now and can take care of yourself but you shouldn't really be alone." She sucked in some air through her teeth. Fork twirling nervously in her hand.

"What does that mean? I can handle being alone." He clenched his jaw and sat up straighter. "I'll be fine, obviously."

"I think you should come with me, or at least allow me to drop you off at the vet." She continued, ignoring his response.

"Or maybe you could drop me off at Connor's house." He countered petulantly. "Then, at least, I could actually enjoy my day."

"Coming with me it is." Jennifer nodded before going back to finishing her breakfast. She ignored his indignation and all attempts to persuade her. Poor attitudes didn't get rewarded with trips to a friend's house, in her experience.

Upon time to leave, the brunette found herself dragging an angry thirteen year old down their porch steps and to her car. 

"I don't want to go." He whined.

"Come on, you could have some fun. You won't know unless you go." Jennifer stopped then chuckled. "That kind of rhymed."

Harrison grumbled before crawling into the passenger seat. He clicked in the safety belt before crossing his arms, his face towards his window. His sister gave a sigh as she also got in, clicked in her belt, and started the car.

As she followed the instructions of the GPS, Jennifer realized that this was going to be the first time that she was going to be at Quinton's house. She hadn't been back in Morgan since before he had moved here permanently. 

Now that she thought about it, this was probably the first time she'd ever heard of her cousin deciding to lay some roots. He'd always been about the next adventure. Always sent her photos and texts about the things he'd seen and places he'd been. For pretty much all of his adult years he'd happily lived out of a little trailer hitched to the back of his beaten up truck. When she had heard that he'd gone and bought an actual home of his own… It was a lot to take in. She wondered what had caused him to change his mind? Wondered why he had decided to start up all of this "Fazbear's Fright" thing? She knew eventually she'd figure it out. She always did, in the end. Her family could never keep secrets from her too long and that wasn't going to change any time soon.

Quinton's house was out a ways from the city. Sitting happily amongst the trees of the surrounding woods. It was built in the style of a Queen Anne and looked to be in pretty good condition. From the outside at least. Even if there was something wrong, her cousin would only see the problem as a challenge and not a flaw. 

Out of the corner of her eyes, Jennifer saw her brother perk up as they drove further into the property.

"Oh, you didn't tell me that we were going to Quinn's. I'm cool with this." He smiled, no longer concerned about inevitable boredom.

"Oh, yeah? Why's that?"

"Because he knows how to make thing's fun." 

"Quinn was always going to be at the meet up, no matter where it was. You know that, right?" She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously as she set her car to park next to an unfamiliar grey Honda. There were a few other vehicles she didn't recognize, which must mean some of her new co-workers must already be inside.

Harrison flushed at his sister's words and grumbled something that she couldn't really hear. He rushed to open his door once it unlocked and made a break for the front door. Jennifer rolled her eyes and took her time to grab everything that she needed.

With a deep breath she headed inside. Moment of truth. She'd always had a hard time making connections with others. So, she could only hope that she gelled well enough with these people that she would be working with for the rest of the summer.

The first thing to reach her attention was the temperature of a perfectly air conditioned house. She relaxed and exhaled in relief. Then the voices reached her ears. Low murmurs that sounded garbled and far away. They seemed to emanate from the opening ahead of her, where the most sunlight seemed to spill in. 

Hesitantly, she made her way forward. Each foot was carefully placed in front of the other for the least amount of sound possible. Sooner than she'd like, she reached the entryway to what appeared to be the kitchen. A beautiful one at that.

Her eyebrows raised in astonishment. It looked expensive. 

What did her cousin do for a living? Was the thought that immediately filled her mind. She quickly realized that she couldn't ever recall his job popping up in any of their conversations.

She took a step further into the room, lost in her thoughts. The movement brought her into the vision of one of the members of the small group that had congregated on the decently sized kitchen island, in the middle of the room.

The young man did a double take, eyes widening as he took her in. Any sounds or outside sensations went out the window. Her hair shined brilliantly in the natural light. Lips were plump, pink, and looked as soft as a pillow. Cheeks were just the perfect amount of rosy. The newcomer blinked and he then focused on just how wonderfully her eyelashes curled.

Then their eyes connected and everything hit his senses full force. He felt hyper-aware. The conversations of his new co-workers were loud and suddenly seemed uncomfortably close. He could hear the rustling of fabric and the clinking of ceramic or glass against silver. It was both overwhelming and exhilarating all at once.

"Jenni, you made it!"

His focus broke and the man looked to his right, at his new boss, Quinton Bixby. He watched as the other man happily walked up and didn't even hesitate to wrap his arms around that gorgeous woman who just walked in. His whole being suddenly felt doused in ice. A stab of something —he couldn't tell what, entered his chest. It honestly felt like a knife.

Quinton, oblivious to all this, simply squeezed his cousin up into his arms. Letting go, he patted her arm and turned to face the curious group.

"Ladies and Gents, may I present your lead designer and my cousin, Jennifer Acker." He beamed and guided her forward, closer to the group. Her eyes caught onto the man that had been eyeing her earlier. He looked strangely relieved, though she couldn't ascertain why. "She'll be doing the majority of the designs, as well as helping create the props. While you may have your specific duties, you'll all be tasked with helping her as needed. Unfortunately, we're still a small group and therefore not as many hands on deck."

They all nodded and muttered their agreement. Quinton smiled.

"Moving on." He looked over to his cousin. "Jennifer, I'd like for you to meet our new crew:

"We have Buford Jubbs, our new manager. Susan Tash, assistant manager. Leonard Hanlon, our day guard. Finally, Scott Pykes, our night guard." With every introduction, the person in question would either nod or wave. Which slowly eased Jennifer's anxiety. Nobody seemed to be minding her, so far. Perhaps she would be able to get along with everybody.

"Hello." She gave a wave and smile, herself, as she sat down next to Quinton. 

With a clap of his hands, he went on to talk about what their jobs would entail once the attraction opened. He also talked about what he wanted them to do currently.

Susan raised her hand. Her face looked carved from stone. Although, it had looked that way the entire time. Jennifer had a solid feeling that they would probably butt heads at some point in the future.

"Will we be getting paid for the time before opening?" 

"Yes." Quinton gave a sharp nod, his face belying a seriousness his cousin had ever seen. It was almost frightening. If she had any doubts about his ability to lead, she didn't anymore. "You shall all be compensated for all the work you clock in. I'll have a system of payment set up by that time."

The woman eased back into her chair and crossed her ankles. She gave a nod of her own, satisfied.

Buford raised his own hand next. Now, this one definitely scared Jennifer. He looked like he was constantly angry. It didn't help that he had a scar that ran from the corner of his eye and down along his jaw, almost to his chin. She wondered how he had gotten it but decided she wouldn't dare ask.

Quinton gestured for him to go ahead.

"Do you have any locations in mind already? For the attraction." His voice demanded attention. It was assertive and commanding. 

"Mr. Emily and I have been closing in on a few places. I have a feeling we'll have a solid place to go by the end of the month." Her cousin gave his award winning smile, that Jennifer had seen him use in order to get out of the worst of trouble. Successfully.

Buford rolled his eyes. Although, his shoulders still eased the slightest bit.

Leonardo, himself, gave out a chuckle. In his hand he twirled around a pencil that he'd found lying around. He was sitting half-hazardly on his chosen chair. 

"I can't believe you managed to apparently get the owner of Fazbear Entertainment to agree to essentially slandering his namesake." He said with a smirk. "I mean, didn't the company state that they didn't support all those horror games made about the murder myths?"

"Sure. However, unlike the game creator, I asked permission and was willing to give a portion of the profit to the company." Quinton defended with a patient grin of his own. "Also, I had to give a good reason as to why Fazbear Entertainment would even want or allow me to create this attraction."

The others voiced their understanding. Quinton continued.

"In fact, I'm going to have to sign a legal contract one of these days. It's being written up right now and I'll be given time to look it over and talk over any possible amends before having to sign."

"Mr. Emily sounds like a really nice man, from all that I've heard and you've told me." Jennifer noted with a small smile. 

"You know, he really is." The older cousin nodded his head. "Even more so than I could have ever hoped. I feel really sorry about everything that has happened to him and his company. It's not my place to know all the details but I know something happened. I also know he didn't deserve it."

"What do you mean? If it's okay to ask." Scott, who had opted to remain quiet until now, finally spoke up. He gave a calm, almost lazy, smirk to the rest. From his long hair, to the backward baseball cap, and all the way down to his tennis. He looked like some type of skater boy. Jennifer could also note that, despite everything else, there seemed to be a gentleness about him. 

He had been the one she'd caught eyes with earlier. She wasn't certain how she felt about him, yet. Though he seemed to be an easy personality to get along with. Hopefully, that would continue to be the case.

"The man has this deep sadness in him. Like he's been through a lot in his life." Quinton tried to explain. His eyes narrowed in thought as he looked off with a far away look. His hand waved around in the air like it would help bring out the words. "It seems like there's something… broken or hollow within him. Missing?"

He shook his head and sighed. Then he gave Scott a wry smile.

"Well, at least he has his wonderful daughter around. I didn't need to spend the entirety of dinner with them to see the strong bond they shared."

"He has a kid, huh?" Buford raised a brow. His arms were crossed and continued to look as strong as stone. 

"Well, she's somewhere around our range of ages.  Most certainly an adult now but she continues to live out with her old man. They're all they really have for family, from what I've gathered. Plus, I'm sure Henry needs plenty of help with the livestock. They live on a farm."

"Runs a farm and a company?" Susan seemed impressed. Though it was hard to garner from her expression or lack thereof. "Seems like a lot of work for one man to do."

"True. Thankfully, he does seem to have a small board of directors to help on the company side of things. He nearly sold the company but decided not to for some reason. So he created the board instead."

"Have you met with them yet?" Buford grunted.

"Nope! I have absolutely no clue who they are and Henry said not to worry about it." Quinton shrugged with his typical lackadaisy. This seemed to rub the gruff manager wrong but he had enough self control to not push it. 

"What kind of livestock do they have?" Jennifer asked, changing the subject in the hopes of dissuading tension.

"Well, you'll just have to find out for yourself. Perhaps, tomorrow for lunch?" Her cousin gave her a hopeful look. "Henry invited me back over for more talks and he was hoping to meet you."

Uh oh. Jennifer was only just getting adjusted to her coworkers and now he wanted her to meet the big boss? This is what she gets when her cousin is an extrovert.

"We could bring, Harry. I bet he'd love to get a look at the animals and the old, original diner itself." Quinton urged, silently hoping she'd get the message that she most definitely wouldn't be there alone. He knew her struggles. If she could handle being at a college in a different state alone, then she could handle being at a farm with two strangers.

Jennifer’s attention was stuck on Harry. More specifically on the fact that she had brought him here and didn't know what he was getting himself into.

"You know, speaking of Harry…" With her eyes roaming around the room in thought, she didn't notice her cousin wilt in exasperation. "I brought him over with me. I haven't seen him once."

"Yeah, he came in for a split second to ask permission to get on my Xbox." Quinton chuckled as he got over his frustration. "He's good. Probably taking out some brutes on Halo."

Jennifer nodded, relieved that she didn't have to send out a search party into the woods for a run away wannabe adventurer. 

"Now, about lunch…" Quinton re-asked in as gentle a voice as he could. She tensed right back up. "I'll pick you and your bro up at 11:30."

She blew out some air and simply nodded. It wasn't that she didn't want to go. Normally, she finds herself enjoying the different places her cousin takes her. It's just the initial getting ready and getting there that gets her.

It was much like her internal struggle getting to this darn meeting. Exhausting.

The meet wrapped up fairly quickly after that and slowly every person left on their own time, leaving the cousins as the last ones there. Quinton had made it a point to show off his place with a little tour of both the inside and outside. They quickly found themselves back in the kitchen.

"And what do you think?" The older cousin suddenly asked as he whipped up some snacks.

"Hmm? Oh, your house is great. I actually really like it." Jennifer had been in the middle of chewing on some leftover brownies Quinton had made the other day. Her hand was raised up to cover her full mouth. He gave out a short laugh.

"No, I mean the crew. What do you think of them? You've always had a knack for getting a good sense of people." He leaned on the island surface across from her. A purposefully frilly apron on, that he liked to utilize in bringing out some laughs. His cousin, ever so quiet yet always observant. He always knew who to keep an eye on when she spoke of not getting a good "feeling" about someone. Very rarely was she proven wrong.

"Ah." She thought back on her new co-workers. "I like them so far. Can't say I know them well enough to decide. Although, I feel like Susan might be a tough cookie. There's… something there but that could always be my anxiety talking."

"Alright. Well, let me know your thoughts when you're confident in them."

"I always do. You're my walking diary." Jennifer laughed and punched his shoulder. He feigned pain and annoyance as he got up from his stool.

"Oh yeah? So whatever I say about you is true right? Since I'm your diary." He stalked around the counter and made his way toward her with his hands up in the air, fingers curled like claws. He wiggled them threateningly.

"W-what are you doing?" Jennifer gave out a squeak, frozen on the stool as he crept ever closer. She felt like a deer in the headlights, uncertain whether she should book it or fend off whatever he was planning. Her leg twitched and she glanced to the open doorway leading to the hall.

Unfortunately, it was behind Quinton so she'd have to figure out some way around him. The odds were not in her favor.

She looked back up at him and he pounced. Which brought out a screech from his little cousin as she tried and failed to get off the stool. Only succeeding in falling onto the floor. Fingers found her sides and there was a split second of confusion before she began to laugh uncontrollably.

"Dear diary," Quinton started in a high, squeaky voice that sounded nothing like her. His hands didn't once stray despite her wiggling efforts to get away. "I woke up this morning feeling like the undead. And when I looked into the mirror I looked like it too!"

"N-no. STAH-OP!" She squealed and wiggled even more furiously. Her hands flailed in an effort to remove his own but with no use. She was too weak from all the laughing.

"And then I sneezed and looked even worse!" He continued in that stupid voice. "I also suddenly gained the urge to pick my nose."

"Noooooooo." Jennifer whined, tears filling her visions. At this point she was gasping for air. "Enough, enough!"

"So, I did and proceeded to wipe my boogers all over the hair of my cousin who's perfect in every way: Quinton. The end."

He backed off and merely watched Jennifer catch her breath with a look of satisfaction. His work here was done. His cousin: properly terrorized. Mission accomplished.

"You're so mean." She breathes out in-between gasps. Her limbs felt like jelly. She doubted she could ever walk again. 

"Thanks, I try." He stood up with a stretch, trying to make it look more nonchalant than it actually was. His cousin was way stronger than she looked. He didn't want to admit just how much of a challenge it was to hold her down. "Alright, come on. I'll help you up. It's about time we got you and Harry home."

She grabbed onto the hand he held out and allowed him to help her. She latched onto him as she found her bearings and they made their way to the entertainment room.

Within the room sat Harry, in the exact same spot he'd been in the entire time they'd been here. Eyes glued to the TV and hands latched onto a controller. The sounds of glorious battle coming out of the surround sound system.

"Come on Harry." Jennifer gave her brother a teasing nudge on the shoulder. "Time to go."

"Wait a sec— gotta get checkpoint." He muttered in quick bursts, concentration fully on the prize. Jennifer nodded and crossed her arms, watching him play. It took a few minutes but he reached it and he threw his hands up in victory. A few minutes more, the system was off and the siblings were saying their goodbyes to their cousin. 

As they got situated into Jennifer's car, she rolled down her window for their cousin. He leaned down and gave her a warm smile.

"I'll see you tomorrow. And you too, little man."

"See you later." She echoed with a wave.

Quinton backed off and walked back to the porch, from where he watched his family leave back to their own house.

Today had been a good day. Everyone seemed to gel well with each other. Although this had only been the first meeting of many to come. Not to mention that they hadn't even gotten to work yet. The future, as it was with everybody, was as uncertain as ever. Quentin couldn't wait to see what life would bring them. It was certainly going to be an interesting one, he knew that for certain. Just one talk with Henry had sent him spiraling into an absolute frenzy of intrigue. Despite the openness and kindness the old man had welcomed him in, there was something just underneath the surface. He knew it. Another adventure just waiting to be discovered. A treasure chest buried just for him to find. And he had a crowbar with which to break the lock and open up the hatch. 

Sure, he talked to the others about not poking the bear. Normally, he wouldn't. It's just that this time, he had a promise to keep.

[s0ckh3adstudios]

Post-incident Twin AU designs let’s goooo-

The font for Kelsey wasn’t supposed to be Comic Sans, I forgot I had left it on that font when I went to type things out and decided it’d be funny to leave it haha.

Luna’s colors are based off of the unused Headspace Sunny sprites :D And Kelsey’s tank-top is supposed to be the opposite of Kel’s: Kel has squares/checker pattern, Kelsey has polka dots!

Info down here to make it harder for ppl to be spoiled of the game:

As you may or may not remember, Luna ends up dying in this AU, not Mari. Mari lives AU but at what cost.

While Mari and Sunny fought above the stairs, Luna tried to get in the way. Mari accidentally shoved her and she fell down the stairs. Basil witnessed the situation and the distraught siblings told him to get the phone for 911. She passed away in the hospital. Her falling down the stairs created Something:

Mari and Sunny haven’t been on good terms since the fight. Mari has tried to reconnect with her brother, but Sunny had lots of time to think in the hospital and after all her harsh perfectionism and what it caused to happen, he’s been very bitter.

Mari actually thought the friend group knew that it was Mari’s fault for what happened to Luna. But when talking to Hero about things, she realized he was under the impression that Luna tripped. Mari and Sunny’s parents hadn’t told the whole truth. So she didn’t say anything in fear of being hated. She figured maybe it wasn’t that big of a deal. It only made Sunny more upset that she didn’t tell, but it’s not like he was going to say anything either. Mari and Sunny lasted a year before they shut themselves in the house. Mari couldn’t handle being around her friends while knowing they didn’t know, she felt fake.

In Headspace, Mari and Sunny’s dreams connect and they dream together. As Hikki and Omori, they are able to be at peace and get along because it’s a dream, life is better here.

I think instead of the Sunny vs Basil at the end of the game, it’s Mari vs Sunny. Basil probably didn’t realize the bigger picture of what happened and didn’t do anything but call 911. But Mari and Sunny? Their relationship is broken. They’re finally with their friends again and the pressure of knowing the truth while they don’t makes Sunny upset about what happened all over again. And at the end of the game, when the truth is revealed, the siblings can finally try and mend what’s broken.

Throughout the years Sunny and Mari are inside their house, they get so lost in their dream life that they sort of lose sense of reality. Their imagination makes the house look dream-spaced themed to them because... life is better that way to them. Luna is there too, imaginary friend-esque.

Kelsey, other than Sunny and Mari, may have taken Luna’s death the worst.

They were best friends, and the sudden loss of Luna took a major toll on Kelsey. She was upset she never got to say goodbye and that she’ll never get to see her again.

In this AU, I think instead of Kel fighting with a distraught Hero, it’s Kel fighting with a distraught Kelsey. It takes them a few days to reconcile.

Kelsey eventually recovers better from Luna’s death, but she still misses her. A lot.

Like Kel, Kelsey has been occupied with sports! Mostly hockey and volleyball. She’s also the queen of handball.

[theanonymouswriterb]

Dusk til’ Dawn

Prologue: The Queen saved the King

Paring: Kim Taehyung x Reader

Mafia Au Series

Warning: SMUT, literally porn on paper 😗, lots of fluff, violence, gang, bratty!reader, dom!tae, daddy!tae, daddy kink, babygirl kink, punishment, bigdick!tae, rough sex, make up sex, lots of after care, pregnancy kink, oral!sex, deep throating and everything in between🤧

Warning in this chapter: just blood, wounds and guns, well a gun

Word Count: 5.1k

Summary:

Kim Taehyung, Now a feared and well known crimes boss but not was he always the man that he is today, searching for the women that saved him on the day that changed his life forever. Willing to sacrifice everything to find the women that could tame him.

One day after 5 years she shows up in his night club, will he be able to hold himself back from taking her and claiming her as his queen or will he do what he do everything in his power to make her his?

A/N: Hi, this is the first chapter that I’m releasing and it’s basically the prologue of how they met, hope you guys like it, if you want to be tagged please tell me and don’t forget to leave some feedback. Also I might be releasing chapter 1 tonight or early tmr, I just need to read though it for mistakes. Much love 💕😗 -B

~

Next chapter

Five Years Ago

The sound of police sirens roams the city, as darkness and fog rain down on Seoul city. Helicopters roaring the skies and the bad guy trying to hide. Kim Taehyung, A man being tracked down by polices and rival gangs from a exchange gone wrong, blood spewing from his stomach and bruises on his face as he runs through the alley. The only thing in his mind right now is to survive the night and make it make it back home alive, or at least die trying.

He keeps running and running for his life as he hears footsteps behind him like the devil is chasing me to take away his life and drag him to hell but he isn’t ready to die yet! Not just yet. He still has a lot more things to accomplish and until he does that not even the devil himself can drag him to hell.

The cut in his stomach is deep and the pain his unbearable but he has to keep it up and there’s no stopping cause if he’s stops he’ll get caught like a mouse in a trap. But he is no mouse, no fucking mouse at all. He’s a fucking mighty lion, no a fucking Dragon that’s roaring and will get his revenge on the people that played him, the ones he thought were family and sold him out. He will kill who ever gets in his way but he’ll just have to survive the deadly night as it calls out to him .

The pain keeps worsening and worsening but he doesn’t know what to do but clutch onto the stomach and hope for the best. A dragon doesn’t die easily, it’s gonna take more than a pack of Hyenas to take down this mighty Dragon.

But the Dragon wasn’t always like this, he had a family, that until he was left in front of an adoption center with no note no fucking idea of where he came from or who his parent were, he spent all his life trying to find out what happened that night that someone decided to leave him, was he not worth the love that a baby deserved? Was he that worthless that his parents gave him up for adoption? Was he not enough. These sentences rang through his mad all his life up til now, the day he’s praying to what every god is listening to him to not let him die, he will keep fight on and on until he’s on top of the food chain.

Kim Taehyung grew up to do bad things, very bad bad things, join gangs at a very young age, was made into the leaders puppet and rose up slowly to be the right hand man of the Cobra gang.

The cobra gang was well known gang of youths in their 20s doing wilds shits like shootouts with the police and drug dealing and selling girls, the reason Kim Taehyung joined the gang at such a young age was to survive, he didn’t like the idea of selling people, doing drugs or anything as such but he had to survive, in a world full of

Cobras and Hyenas he had to survive. He mad a living out of this and he rose to be the right hand man of the Cobras but oh man, that didn’t didn’t go down well.

Did it!?

The thing that burns him was that he was never a Cobra, never was and never will be.

A few miles away at Seoul estate town houses ~

Walking into her house Y/N sighed, “can this day get any worse” she flopped down in the sofa and looked at her phone, hoping for a call from a certain someone, but what was she hoping for?

She got up from the sofa and strutted up to her master bedroom. From the ceiling hung a huge diamond chandelier, to the side floor to ceiling widows, fine famous artwork hung on the walls and in the middle room, her queen sized bed made for the queen herself. Her room was every girls dream, a large space with with many expensive things, a humongous walk in wardrobe filled with designer clothings, shoes, purses and more. Y/N could get anything she wanted, whether it’s cars, houses, clothes, she could get anything she wanted, but she was no brat. Well maybe sometimes.

Walking into the closet, she took her suit attire off, she was promoted to the creative designer of Givenchy and got everything she wanted on her way up the ladder but the pressure on her shoulders were too real. She looked at the mirror in mirror in front of her and saw her figure, she was a beautiful girl no doubt about that, she was fine as hell, the only thing that could fault her was her mind, the mind that thinks she could be a failure to her family.

After changing into a white tank top and joggers she walked back out into her bedroom and down towards the living room that Intertwined with the kitchen.

Y/n turned the kettle as she walked from the kitchen to the living room, she sat down on her sofa and smiled as she turned in the tv “ finally, I get to sit the fuck down” she groaned. As she scrolls through Netflix a call comes through a phone. She looked at her phone screen and smiled at the name of no one else but her best friend E, short for EziKia, a girl she has known since she was a baby, their fathers grew up together and were very close with each other and that’s how they greet up to know each other. “Hey bitch” her best friend spoke “ how was work?!” She continued. As Y\N looked at the TV she replied “girl it was a disaster, you know how I get when I have to present my work”. “I know” her best friend laughed “But I’m sure you did fine and I’m sure they loved every bit of your design for the new collection” her best friend smirked as she spoke, “I’m already proud of you, I’m fucking excited for the new collection to drop”

Y/n’s a young girl, she always grew up with her parents love and affection but couldn’t find her place in the world, alright she had everything she wanted from her parents, finding love within her self was hard. Yes she has confidence, yes she’s amazingly breathtaking and beautiful, she doesn’t need anyone to tell her then cause she knows that and she knows she bad and she can get everything she wants in this world. She knows she worth all that. But why is it so hard for her to find love, not with any man but within herself, it is almost as if she hides behind this facade of confidence. Her insecurity’s ushers to come out of her but she builds this facade to hide it front he world. And the one thing she is most scared of is losing her family if she doesn’t make them proud. She feels as if it’s hard to love herself and make everyone else proud of her.

Y/N groaned as we moved on the sofa and said “I hope so, enough about me and my day, how was yours?” Ester sighed “ my day was amazing until I got home and got into an argument with my Khai” Y/N rolled her eyes and asked “what was the argument about this time?!” “ He dreamt that I cheated on him and he got mad at me!” Y/N couldn’t hold I get laughter and laughed out loud “ what the hell, now that is too funny”

“ well now he’s still mad at me for no reason and I won’t be the first person to apologize cause it wasn’t me fault to begin with”. EziKia replied

“Well it was your fault” Y/N began “ you cheated on him” “In his dream”they both said at the same time.

Ezikia and her boyfriend Khai have been dating for a while now and they’re hopelessly in love but they argue about the summery things in the world, which is why Y/N think they’re a perfect match cause they’re literally dumb and dumber.

The kettle hissed and Y/N spoke “ what’re you up to now anyways” as she Stirred her tea waiting for ester to reply. “ nothing if I’m honestly just playing games at the moment” she laughed out,”what about you”. “ just made some tea and about to watch haunted on Netflix” Y/N replied and she sat down on the sofa and pressed play.

A moment of silence filled the room.

“Have you spoken to J yet?” The voice of her friend E rang through the phone

“Who?” she replied

Sighing out in frustration her friend spoke “ You know who Y/N, you can’t stay mad it him forever he’s also your friend”

“I’m not mad at him E” she hushed out looking at her phone.

J short for Jungkook was Y/N other friend, they were very close, they loved each other but they both didn’t have the guts to tell each other that, it could fuck up the friendship but it was only friendship right?, they would always fight and instantly make up but this was different, they weren’t speaking but it’s not like it’s her fault....right? J was always a nice guy, treating her the best, they would always flirt with each other but it wasn’t anything serious, it was always just games but when she saw him kissing another person, her heart felt like it exploded and she felt like she had been betrayed and betrayal was too real to bear.

But how could this be a betrayal if they aren’t in love? That’s what they both keep telling themselves right?

He’s not her responsibility and she doesn’t love him like that, but she keeps lying to herself and he betrayed her and so she can’t let it go. Not just yet, she just needs to stay mad at him just a little longer.

The rain began to fall as she spoke to her friend, they laughed and continued speaking, hours has passed and the clock struck midnight and they said their goodnight and they both hung up. As she continued watching the tv, the rain outside came worse, Turning into a thunder storm. The wind whistled outside and lighting struck and she could hear the Thunder roaring. She began to shiver at the should and the flashes outside her windows “ why the fuck am I sacred of thunder” she whispered to herself as she continued to watch the series, it still came as a shock to her at how she was some what scared of the sound of thunder and lighting but she’s able to sit through and watch a full series of horror stories by herself at night.

Hours and hours had passed as she watched the series and she felt her eyes beginning to fall close and she then drifts of to sleep on her cloud like sofa and feels like dreams.

She dreams about her future, what it would be like if she followed what her parents told her to become, maybe then she would think she wasn’t such a Failure to her family.

Although her parents were always supportive, Y/N felt that she wasn’t enough, she saw the look on their face of disapproval when she said she wanted to become a fashion designer, it was like she disappointed her parents saying what she said and wanting to become a designer instead of a doctor. But her parents were always proud of what a women she had become and loves her deeply. However she felt that just In case her fashion career doesn’t workout, she learnt a few tricks from her older sister who was obviously a doctor about how to deal with someone is had been wounded.

The man still on the run 10 minutes away~

Kim Taehyung on the other hand was also having the worst fucking day of his entire life! How could this get any worse, first the drug and money exchange gone wrong with the rival gang, obviously he was set up to fail by you know who and now he’s not just running from the gang who are out to kill him for more money and truce between the gangs as Kim Taehyung’s boss thought he was out to take his place on the Cobras throne.

Now with the police are after him too, since he was like the “ right hand man to the king “cobra” he knew a lot about him and the police where out to shut all the bullshit down but Taehyung had his loyalty, but how loyal can a ‘dog’ be if he’s been abandoned but he never snitches. Running from the gangs, Taehyung has a run in with the police and they saw him at his venerable place, bruised up and cut deep, so they decided to take him out to show the “king cobra” what they could do with his “people”.

But obviously that was fucking useless cause they used him and played him hard.

And Taehyung was no longer a cobra at this moment of betrayal, Kim Taehyung knew where his loyalty lies and that was with himself, he will get his revenge on everyone that played him, the cobra, the police & his family.

He continued running as his life depended on it, but he never looked back to see if he was being followed he kept his eyes straight forward and went on. The rain kept pouring on him as he ran and ran and ran like there was no end to the road, he suddenly slowed down as he crouched down in pain and held his stomach, “fuuuck” he groaned. He wasn’t going to let today be the day that he died, he had a lot to live for if he wanted his revenge. He got up again clinging to stomach and continued walking. As he approached a few blocks of town houses, he had to get out of the rain and get some help of else he might die, he walked up the stairs to bang in the door but there was no response. He then continued to the next few houses but there was still no response. He groaned in frustration as there was no one to help him. He then saw a light at the end of the block of houses and walks towards the light, walked up the stairs and banged on the door as if trying to break down the door.

He continued banging on the door as if it was his last resort which it was, he whispered out all his might but the only thing that came out was a soft breath “please help” he never thought he would have to resort to begging but here he was outside a strangers door, hair and clothes drenched from the storm asking for help not knowing if the person inside would be kind enough to help a poor stranger in need.

As if he gave up, he leaned against the door and shut his eyes closed, but then he heard foot steps coming from the other side other door and the locks clicked and the door Swung open. He looked up slowly from down at the strangers feet to the face and he saw the stranger in front of him, “wow she’s beautiful” he thought to himself,

“Thank you” he sighed out of relief as his vision became blurry and everything went black.

At Y/N House ~

Y/N woke up from her sleep hearing banging on the front of her door, she lifted herself up from her sofa that was way to comfortable to leave the room and groaned out “ who the fuck is banging on my door at the hour”.

As she got up she realised that she fell asleep on the sofa and left the lamp on.

She looked at her clock and it was almost 3 am, she then whispered “ why do I always either get waken up or wake up at around 3am” as if she was scared and her suspicions came creeping in the back of her mind. And she thought ghost always wonder around at 3 AM. She then was pulled from her thoughts by the loud bang at the door again and she slowly made her way to the front of the house and she saw a figure standing outside, she thought to herself thinking she shouldn’t open up the door to strangers at this hour, as she slowly turned to leave she suddenly hears a cry of help “please help” the stranger whispered silently.

As she heard the cry of help, she thought to herself “ I should probably help this person” “ but what if the pardon is a Pedophile or someone really dangerous” as if her demon and angel thoughts were fighting each other she huffed out a breath and walk towards the door turned the lock opened the door. There stood a tall man twice her size, built like a Greek GOD, dressed in a suit that was drenched from the rain droplets of water falling from his fringe a hand holding onto his stomach that was bleeding, bruises on his face and the other hand holding onto the doorframe. The man then looked from down at her feet, then his eyes lifted up to her face, she then saw him smile for a second then his eyes suddenly shut closed and he fell forwards towards her.

Her eyes grew wide was she was trying to hold her balance and trying to hold a man twice her size that just fainted at her door step. Not knowing what to do as the man’s head laid on her shoulder, she then whispered “ fuck it” then leaned sideways and the man dropped to the floor. Sighing she looked down at the stranger that passed out on her, who she then dropped to the door, frustration and guilt overpowering her mind and she closed her eyes and thought for a moment.

She then crouched down, grabbed him from under his armpits and dragged him a little further into the house and closed the door. She then began to slowly drag him through her house to the living room, “ damn he’s fucking heaving” she choked out. After a though 20 minutes grafting him through her house, She then was able to lay him on her couch that she adored very much and said “ well maybe that wasn’t the best idea” as her white couch began to turn red form blood stain that fell form the stranger. Then her eyes turned to the gun that sat perfecting in the holster wrapped around the mans body. “Shit”. Her face was stoned cold from shock, asking herself why this man had a gun on him and why he was bleeding and she palmed then slapped her forehead, sighing out loud in frustration and anger at herself for helping this possibly dangerous handsome man.

She looked at him and for a few seconds fought with her self, asking herself if she should still help this stranger for all she knows he could be really dangerous. She shook off her thought and went into her bathroom to the her first AID kit to help this poor, passed out man on her couch. She ran back into the living room, crouched down lifted his shirt to tend to his wounds and bruises.

As she opened up his shirt she saw how beautiful he was built, the tone muscles that covered him and the tattoos that bloomed on his chest. She also noticed that he had many scars in his body, the ones where it shows be fought for his life.

As time passes, she stared at the beautiful but bruised up stranger and couldn’t help but feel bad for him, she thought of many things that he must have gone trough and couldn’t help but wonder who this man is.

Time deciding to go really fast~

The clocked struck 7:30 am and very loud pound bang came though the house from the door at the front. Y/N opened her eyes slowly and saw the stranger lying into of her, she hadn’t know that she fell asleep looking at the stranger and she drifted into her thoughts. Then the loud bang pulled her from her thought and she hurried to her feet and went to the door. The door opens and she saw a group on men in uniform. The mother-fucking police. “ Hi miss, sorry to disturb you this fine morning, We just wanted to ask you a few questions if that is ok” she nods her head and the police proceeded to ask the questions. “ Did a man came knocking on you door last night?” She hesitated for a moment and shook her head no and the made some notes in their notebooks and proceeded to ask another. “ Did you see or hear anything suspicious last night” she shook her head again said “ no officer” and the officer furrowed their eyebrows and said “Miss your are not lying to us are you?” she then replied “ no “ and they ushered “ Miss you need to tell us if you saw anything cause this man is a very dangerous man and he killed a lot of people and we need your help” The silence loomed around them but Y/N didn’t say a word. Although she just heard of how dangerous this man was, she helped him and already lied and there was no going back.

She could be arrested for helping a criminal and lying about it. The shock on her face was clear but she payed it off well and shook her head in disagreement and said “no officer, i didn’t see anything or any man of any sort” and smiled softly hoping to get them off her back.

The police stared at her as if they knew she was lying carried on saying,

“ Then miss what is this blood stain that is here on your door step?” She was surprised as she didn’t realize there would be blood at her door step even though a bleeding man was just at her foot steps a few hours ago. She then huffed out trying to sound as smooth as possible, then lied “ You see officer, last night I came home late From my boyfriend house and I forgot my underwear at his house, you know what happened there” she winked “ I came on my period and bled on the floor and I forgot to clean it up” she then thought “what the fuck was I thinking lying to the police like that, this is embarrassing” They’re not gonna believe that are they?

As she opened her mouth to speak again she stopped her herself as she saw the flustered faces on the officers, they then said “ oh, sorry miss, s-sorry to bother you and thank you for your help” then then bowed and turned and walked back to their car.

Y/n shocked at her own words hurriedly shut the door and leaned against it and spoke” fuck that was embarrassing”. As she turned she was greeted with a shirtless man with patched of wounds that SHE patched up holding a gun towards her head. Her eyes then widened in shock but not fear, “ so this is how your gonna treat your saviour?!” She spoke, the silent that came after could Pierce through someone like a knife, he then softly growled in a low husky voice “ thank you “ and lowered his gun. “You’re welcome “ she said as she rolled her eyes, bumped his shoulders and walked past him back towards the kitchen.

He then turned to follow the small girl that helped him last night. As they entered the kitchen he spoke lowly “ so YOU were the one that was bleeding in front of your own door” he asked, she then said with confidence “YES, the reason I said that was to save your ass and I don’t even know you” she turned to look at him and met his ice cold gaze, if looks could kill she would be dead right now. “ that’s right, you don’t know me” he hushed out “ so why would you help me” he raised his gun again. “ Will you stop raising your gun at me” she shouted, he then touched his stomach in pain. She then asked with worry in her voice “ are you ok”.. nothing, there was silence as she watched him crouch in pain. “Yea....I’m fine for now” he whispered, y/n furrowed her eyes brows and looked at him with sympathy and said “ do you want some pain killers?” He nodded and she turned on her feet to search trough her drawers for pain killers and sprung back into the kitchen to give home the medicine. She watched as he gulped down the pain killer with a glass of water and smiled, relieved that she was able to help him. She then broke the silence, “ since I don’t know you, want to tell me who you are?”

“No” he bluntly said he got up to pick his shirt up from the side of the sofa and put it on. “Also, who gave you permission to take my clothes off” he said glaring at her. She then scoffed “ dude, you seriously need to get you anger and manners in check, I helped you and this is how your repaying me!” His gaze soften at her words but then he frowned again saying “you don’t have to tell me every minute that you saved me”

Y/n couldn’t believe what the hell was going on, this man she just saved from DEATH itself never mind the police, DEATH! was treating her like this. But maybe he was right she thought, maybe she didn’t have to shove it in his face every minute that she saved him, “sorry” she said Turning from him as he was finally dressed in his bloodied clothes.

As she walked away, he slowly turned his head and leave into the kitchen, he thought to himself that he should be great full that this beautifully kind stranger helped him when no one else would. He then followed her into the kitchen and watch her make food for them. He watched as she busied herself in the kitchen with her task and a smile crept of his face. There was literally and angel right in front of him but he couldn’t give her the satisfaction of that and so his smile disappeared as she turn to look at him.

They then stared at each other for a few minutes and as if time slowed down he couldn’t believe his eyes, it was like love at first sight, he couldn’t believe he was falling in love with this stranger at their first meet but it couldn’t be love could it? He’s just great full for her helping him...isn’t he?

“What are you staring at” she broke the silence

“Obviously not you” he replied harshly

He has to be rude and he can’t fall in love with her not now and not ever, because of who he is, if he falls in love with her she could be a target to the gangs and it’s not like she’s in love with him anyway, she’s probably so scared for him and wouldn’t want anything to do with him after he leaves. He thought and sighed.

Y/n watched him as he lowered his gaze and thought to her self what this stager has gotten himself into that he’s running from the police, he’s such a beautiful and muscular man with tattoos that covered his body and instantly she almost fell in love. ALMOST. She was just glad she was able to help him and continued looking at him in pity.

A few moments had passed and she continued making the breakfast and he gazed up at her and watch her work.

She could literally be the light of his world but his world is to damn dangerous.

A few minutes later she had made breakfast, she turned and shoved the plate towards him “ Eat . You’ll need the energy” “thanks” he whispered and they both ate in silence. “I’m Taehyung” she looked up towards him as he broke the silence “I’m Y/N” “nice to meet you” he countered and then said softly “thank you for saving my life Y/N”.

Then awkward silence filled the room.

She shyly looked up from her plate and broke the silence again saying “ Why were the police looking for you?”

“ That’s none of your business” he said harshly and glared at her with his Piercing eyes

“Well it’s now my business since I helped you, why the were the police chasing you?” She shouted back

“ I don’t give a fuck that you helped me, I can literally kill you right now” laughing as he spoke out.

“ You really have a rude temper you know that?” She glared

Gazing back at her slowly, he opened his mouth to speak.

“I know” he spoke softly as if she just tamed him.

He watched as she got back to eating, and he watched the way she ate her food and how her lips moved as she continued speaking..as if he couldn’t like her more than he already does, everything she does changes him and makes him weaker than he currently is.

She was a girl full of sassiness and confidence but was also very kind and warm hearted and he couldn’t help but fall hard.

Was it wrong?

He got up as her gaze came up to meet his face,

He then leaned in over the small table and pecked her lips with his.

SMACK!

Out of shock her hand landed in his beautiful bruised face and he groaned out in pain “fuck, I deserved that” as he leaned back in his chair.

“ yes you deserved that!” She shouted back and he rose from his seat, rounded the table and approached her, grabbed her face and kissed her hard on the lips , flames rose up Y/N face and she shoved him backwards and slapped him hard again “ the fuck is wrong with you” she screamed. Taehyung held his face and smirked saying “ thank you for saving me princess”, he turned, put on his blazer then left, Y/N still shocked from what just happen lifted her hands to her lips and touched her lips softly with her fingers as she heard the door closed.

That was the first and last time last time they both saw each other.

The King just met his queen.

Tags: @sugarplummies

[skellebonez]

Because you are a fantastic writer, and because I simply adore what you write, how about a continuation to the "Wukong is once again being an idiot and lying to everyone" prompt? And this is an open prompt! You can take this and go absolutely bonkers with it!

THE POWER YOU HAVE GIVEN ME SHALL NOT GO UNDERUTILIZED. This is a follow up to these two previous fills and I am just going off about what I think would be an interesting way to continue into season 3 at this point.

Warning: UH... Sun Wukong is not doing too great. Mild descriptions of his hidden injuries, Wukong is still immortal but what he hid would be very bad for people who are not.

"He's burning up," Pigsy said with a hiss as he pulled his hand away from Wukong's forehead. "Why is he burning up? What even happened to him!? He didn't look like this an hours ago, ain't he immortal-"

"Yeah, but not invincible," MK interrupted with a shake in his voice, watching as Sandy checked on his mentor's newly revealed injuries. "Not entirely anymore. He-he'll probably be fine! No, he will be fine, but he's-shit." He took in a shaky breath, trying to stand on legs that had long since fallen asleep in their awkward position holding his mentor's head off the hard floor. "I'll explain later, we need to see how bad he is now!"

He jumped, feeling a soft touch against his shoulder. Mei had knelt beside him at some point and it wasn't until she reached over to brush her thumb against his cheek that he realized he had started crying at some point.

The chef looked at him with an odd expression at MK's revelations, almost looking like he wanted to say something in anger before shaking his head and standing instead.

"You're right," he said as he turned to Sandy. He didn't need to ask the largest of the group anything, watching as he carefully scooped the Monkey King into his arms and headed off into what they had designated as "the med bay" with Tang following close by. "But you're gonna tell us exactly what that you mean by 'not entirely invincible' on the way, no more of this waitin to talk business! And we're going to walk there calmly."

MK couldn't find it in himself to argue.

~

"Well, shit," Pigsy sighed after MK rushed through the conversation he had shared with his mentor, pinching the bridge of his snout with a sigh. "That's... bad. That explains a whole lot about a lot of stuff, like how he managed to get himself caught on New Years, at least... You're sure he's still immortal?"

"Yeah," MK nodded, leaning into the grip Mei had on his shoulder as they walked. "Yeah, he made it a point to insist he still couldn't die."

"That's... good, right?" Mei offered with a chuckle, her usual exuberance seeming shaken up after seeing the state of the immortal monkey. "That means he'll get better!"

They paused at the entrance to the med bay, really more a spare bedroom they had stocked all the medical supplies Sandy apparently hoarded into, and MK gulped. He thought over Wukong's words, trying to find any piece he could to pick it apart. See exactly what, if anything, may have been just more half truths... he didn't want to believe he was still hiding things, not after that display of dropping the glamor. But MK himself had claimed he would explain everything to the others before... and lied still... and he was more like Sun Wukong than he first realized.

"I-I think so," he finally settled on an answer as they walked in, Sandy's back being the first sight they were greeted with. He could see the bottom half of Wukong's legs and feet, and Tang standing on the opposite side of the bed, as they were doing... something. "He said I was half invincible so... maybe he's still half himself? But he said they'd 'probably heal eventually' so..."

"Maybe he just meant they wouldn't scar!" Mei offered with a smile, moving to grip MK's hand. "Come on... we can't stop thinking about the good outcomes now..."

He turned, looking at his best friend. Her smile was off, uncertain, dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep. None of them had slept well the last two nights. But her eyes, despite the uncertainty they shared with her smile, were as bright and hopeful as ever.

"Yeah..." MK said with a small smile.

"As much as we'd appreciate the help," Tang said suddenly, moving from behind the bed to stand before them. He had removed his scarf and robe, something that looked bizarre and wrong outside of seeing him in his sleep wear, and instead wore a simple tank top and his regular pants. He had gloves on... already spotted in red. "This room is a little cramped with all five of us and a bed."

"I'll go make us food," Pigsy said immediately, laying a hand on MK's back as he addressed Tang. "We don't gotta eat it when it's finished it's just... gonna be ready for when you're done, ok?"

MK couldn't help but smile a bit. Pigsy didn't just make food and let it sit, not normally. The only other time he could ever remember him doing that was after... DBK. After they volunteered to help clean up the city from the damage his possession caused. He'd made pots and pots of noodles and soup and plates of side dishes and buns and just kept them warm for when anyone came by to eat them. He stayed in his shop, waiting and handing out what he could.

He never once complained about the excess from the last batches, offering them for free to the first few customers the next day if they wanted it.

"Thanks, Pigsy," Tang said with a tired smile. "I think everyone is going to appreciate that."

"I'll finish the ship upkeep Sandy and I were doing," Mei offered, smiling at Sandy when he looked over his shoulder. "I've got a pretty good handle on the specifics by now."

"I trust you," Sandy said with a smile, the first thing he had said the entire time he'd joined them in the kitchen, and turned back to what he was doing.

There was an awkward silence as Tang started grabbing supplies from a cabinet to deposit on a nearby table and Pigsy and Mei turned to MK.

"I'm staying," he said firmly, but nothing could hide the shaking in his hands. "Just... I have to know how bad he is."

"OK," Pigsy said, and they made their way out before Mei turned back inside.

"When he wakes up? Give him one of these for me," she said before making a face and leaving in the opposite direction.

There was just enough of a chuckle that escaped him that MK thought he would be able to do that.

"Are you sure you want to see this?" Tang asked, far softer in tone than he had been before. "Sandy and I were already taking stock of his injuries and... MK, they're not good."

"Yeah, I'm sure," he insisted, taking in a calming breath. "I need to know exactly how angry I need to be at him."

His father figure didn't laugh, but there was amusement in his eyes as he returned back to where he was. "Alright, then you're going to need to help by handing me everything I ask for."

They settled into silence after that, and MK watched and Tang and Sandy worked to check on the unconscious immortal in the bed.

They had stripped off his robe, leaving him only in the pants he wore underneath it. He looked... he looked much worse without it on.

In addition to his eye (which seemed to have been the only hidden injury to have already healed as much as it may have) and the tear in his ear (which seemed to have at least been partly treated by himself already) his torso was littered with little cuts and scrapes. Sandy had rolled up the legs on his pants, one remaining upright and MK could see the slight swell of his knee from some kind of internal injury (probably muscular). His tail and arms were also similarly injured, one nasty gash in particular close to the end of the tail that had gotten almost as much treatment as his ear.

But on his side... there was sloppy bandaging slowly growing redder.

"Sandy, help me get this off him," Tang said, holding out his hand. "Scissors, please."

MK jolted, getting what Tang requested from the pile of stuff, watching as he carefully cut away the wrapping.

Tang winced as he finally lifted the dressing from Wukong's side, but did his model best to look as impassive as possible. There was a sizeable gash on it, large enough that Tang's entire hand barely covered it lengthwise, that had poorly treated with the lopsided gauze and bandages (probably stolen from this very room after he allowed them to treat his visible injuries). Blood had seeped through it, all fresh, and it was most likely reopened upon his fall. It looked... wrong. Not the way it should. The fur around it had been either ripped out or had fallen out and the skin was inflamed and angry.

"... no wonder he's burning up, this is becoming infected," he said evenly, detected, leaning over to look at the supplies he took from the medicine cabinet. "Sandy, I'm going to need your help moving him. MK?" He turned to the young man, face softening as he saw how pale his face had gotten at the revelations before him. "MK, I heard what you were telling Mei and Pigsy earlier. Mei's probably right, he'll be ok. OK?"

MK wanted to believe he had been, he'd been so honest after he told him to stop lying, but... but he still couldn't help but worry his mentor was still hiding more. And he felt so guilty thinking that. But he shook his head, dispelling the thoughts in his head.

"OK... what do you need?"

"Let's start with antiseptic. We need to clean this as quickly as possible."

~

It took longer than MK had hoped. And Sun Wukong had only barely stirred the entire time. Whether it was from the infectious fever or from exhaustion from using his remaining powers while sick he didn't know, but the most of a reaction they got him from was a sharp gasp and a twitch while cleaning the worst of his wounds.

Aside from that... nothing. He remained still, even as Sandy moved him without any effort and guided Tang through the medical stuff he wasn't sure how to handle.

MK knew Tang had some first aid training but this was much more than he expected him to pull off... he supposed he was learning a lot.

After a while Tang didn't need Sandy's help to move him anymore and the massive man shot MK an apologetic look before leaving. MK assumed he had left to wash up, and he did, but he eventually returned completely cleaned up with a hot cup of tea. It was the same flavor as the one he never got to finish during his conversation earlier.

He ruffled MK's hair after the young man gratefully took it, making Wukong more comfortable on Tang's instruction and pulling the covers over everything but one arm before saying something about needing to give Mei some tea as well, before leaving the three of them alone again. MK thought that, maybe, the sight of the Monkey King as he was was somehow making him... uncomfortable. No, not uncomfortable.

Sad.

He didn't say anything.

"He looked... almost fine when he saved me..." MK said after a long sip of his tea and a long silence of watching Tang handle everything else on his own, trying to squeeze his cup. Just like when he had tried before, it stayed firm. "He wasn't hurt then, not by LBD, so... he'd been keeping up those illusions since before he came. How long was he hurt?"

"There isn't really a way for us to know," Tang admitted, wrapping the fresh gauze around the king's arm as carefully as he could manage. It wouldn't have mattered if he wasn't careful, Wukong didn’t stir a bit. "It could have been hours... could have been days. With how quickly his eye healed vs his gash it's hard to tell. But my guess would be hours, given when you... when..." He trailed off, a shudder running through him. "He was actively giving you his powers, yeah? Maybe... he was giving you some of his healing abilities. Or maybe something else hurt his eye long before everything else. We just don't know."

"I think that was from Macaque," MK said with a wince, knowing he was going to have to explain more about who Macaque was eventually. "He said LBD has him under her control and he has the same injury on the opposite eye."

Tang froze for a half a second, the shine of the overhead lights on his glasses keeping Mk from seeing just what kind of expression he had. But he simply nodded, finishing up his work.

"We'll just... have to hope he'll be able to give us some better information when he wakes up," Tang said with a shrug as he removed his gloves. "This is all probably a mystery even to him... I'm going to wash up... will you be alright alone?"

"Yeah."

That was a lie, but he felt at least this one was warranted.

Because even if he wouldn't be fine he didn't want to leave.

~

It was nearly 11 hours before Sun Wukong opened his eyes again, though he didn't realize that at the time.

The morning sunlight was just barely shining through the window to the med bay, and he wondered for a moment why one of his eyes seemed to ache at the light and a tear rolled down his cheek from the strain at trying to see.

Then he remembered that he couldn't see out of it anymore. And the conversation with MK. And... passing out. In the kitchen.

This was definitely not the kitchen floor, which was bad. What he was laying on was soft and had something else laying on top of him. Which meant he had been moved to a bed.

Which meant he had been unconscious for more than a minute, which was the exact opposite of what he wanted.

He tried to move his left arm to cover his eye, but found something... holding it down. And with a little effort he moved his head, looking over to the side.

MK was slouched over on a chair, nearly face down on the blanket that covered him and holding his hand. In his other hand there was a comic book of some kind, horribly bent by his own face.

He had dark circles, much darker than he had the night before, under his eyes and there was a dried wetness on his cheeks that made Wukong's chest hurt at the sight.

He'd messed up... again. He shouldn't have held up the illusion, not for that long. He should have let it fall the moment they hit the drone and been honest instead of insisting that he go on his new Journey to the West on his own. Or at least let it fall the next day, when they questioned why he was so tired. So quiet. Why he was so still and wasn't running around the ship like they expected (the pulled muscle in his knee, which he very much noticed was tightly compressed by either a sleeve or a wrap, being the main culprit along side... that injury).

He sighed, doing his best to remove his hand from his student's carefully before gently resting it on his head and ruffling the hair there.

"...'m sorry, MK," He said tiredly. "No more secrets, I promise."

"You better mean that promise you asshole."

Wukong yelped and jumped, yelping again when it sent a jolt of pain down his side. "YOu're AwAKe!?"

MK sat up, almost smiling at the way his mentor sounded but holding it back. "Yeah... I kinda passed out after a while, but I woke up like... an hour ago? I've just been trying to get as much rest as I can, even if I'm not actually sleeping."

"That's... good," Wukong said with a nod, the way MK described the time frame feeling familiar. "So you saw... everything?"

"Everything."

"Well, shit."

"That's exactly what Pigsy said when I told him what happened," Mk said with a chuckle, reading over to grab a packet of some kind and a glass of water. "Tang gave me very specific instructions to make you take all of this. Or else."

"Or else... what?" Wukong chanced, raising an eyebrow.

"I dunno, I always took the medicine he gives me with that threat so I never got to find out," MK shrugged. "Pigsy says it's not worth finding out."

"I'll take his word for it," Wukong said with a sigh. It was probably best to take whatever it was regardless of threats, he could feel his fever still and he did not want to keep having to fight that off. So he took the medicine, a mixture of pills and some kind of powder MK mixed into his drink that made it taste oddly way too sweet and sour at the same time, and sighed as he closed his eyes again for a moment.

They sat in silence for only a minute before he spoke again.

"Your friends... did all this?" He gestured to himself, reaching up to feel the odd dressing on his ear.

"Tang and Sandy did," MK explained, and went on to tell him what happened. How they treated him. How Pigsy had food waiting for him now that he was awake. How MK stayed by his side just in case.

"Oh, and Mei wanted me to give you this," MK said before pausing, glowering at him in a way that looked odd on his student's face but probably would have looked horrifying on Mei.

"Oh... I made her that mad huh?"

"I think everyone is kinda angry at you to some degree," MK admitted before holding his mentor's hand again. "But... mostly we were worried. You're my mentor, and a part of our little group now. That's what we do. Worry about each other."

Sun Wukong felt another tear slip out of his injured eye, but not from strain.

It had been so long since anyone... worried about him.

He didn't know how much he missed knowing he was cared about like that.

[kattwritesuwu]

Can I request a Clingy!monsterTom x Depressed!Reader? Maybe with cutting and suicidal thoughts?

I sure can!!! I LOVE angst!!!!!

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

Fandom: Eddsworld

Character: Tom

Reader: Depressed

Fic type: Comfort/angst

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING: This WILL heavily mention suic/de, blood, and perhaps other triggering topics, read at your own risk!!

Notes: People, I'm not trying to make depression and similar illness romantic, this is simply for comfort.

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

I hate everything.

Well, not everything, but the majority, y'know? Everything just...sucks. Life in general, it's all terrible.

People are terrible. Sure, I've found a few choice people that aren't the bane of my existence, but even they have their flaws.

Am I saying that I'm some heaven sent angel? Hell no I'm not. I'm just as terrible if not more! I hate everyone, including myself.

Am I lying? Yeah. Do I have a crush on someone? Yeah. Am I gonna do something about it? Nope.

Why should I? It's not like I'll be here longer anyways...

I'm planning to kill myself.

Am I scared? Kind of. But at this point I don't care. I'm always scared anyways. Always on my guard around people.

Most people don't know the fear and pain of constantly feeling...numb.

It's not like I never feel anything, it's just so rare. My most common emotion is pain. I just want to curl up in a ball and die. But all I can ever being myself to do is cry, and even that's a rare occurrence at this point.

I feel so alone.

Friends? Yeah I have a few.... they're all a bit odd in their own way. Can't complain though, they're like family to me.

My real family? Not many immediate ones, plus, I moved to England five years ago. They called me everyday for the first couple of months. Nowadays, I can barely get a text back... I get that they have their own lives in their respective country, but man, it just makes me so cold-feeling...

I guess where I was going with this, is that I'm scared. Not of my inevitable death, but everything else.

I'm scared of anything and everything now that I think about it. I don't exactly mean common fears they talk about in elementary school, I'm talking real world problems.

I'm scared of failure, not sure why. I've failed enough in my life....it shouldn't even faze me at this point.

Im especially scared of people.

My friends? Yeah them too. What if I make a fool of myself and they think I'm an idiot? What if I make the wrong move, and they hate me? They probably hate me enough as it is...

That why I won't confess to Tom. He'll hate me afterwards. There's just no point in ruining something for nothing in return.

These were the thoughts that ran through my head as my arms and legs were sliced up by a blade driven by my own hands. It's wasn't like it hurt. All it really did was sting, I'm just that used to being hurt, I suppose.

As I was wrapping up my little 'session' I heard a knock on my door,

"(Y/N)! You in there? It's dinner time! I made breakfast for dinner!" A British accent leaked through my door.

I didn't scramble around at the thought of him walking in, my door was locked after all. It's not like I'm that stupid.

" I'll be there in a few minutes, Edd." I spoke back in a raspy voice, not bothering to yell. Edd has good ears, he can somehow hear a whisper from across the house.

It takes me a minute or two to get up and walk into the bathroom that connects to my room. I stumble a bit with the loss of blood.

Once I get in there I take a quick shower, just barely long enough to stop the bleeding and make it appear as if you just took an actual shower.

Once I get out of the shower, I slip on my (favorite color) hoodie.

That was an easy part of hiding my self abuse. Everyone in the house wore a hoodie of their own designated color.

I also slipped on a longer article of clothing to go onto my legs. Couldn't let them see my thighs either.

Once I finished the rest of my cleaning up, I headed out of my little bathroom, and in front of my door. I took a deep breath, put on a smile, and walked out.

I got about halfway down the stairs before a screech startled me, causing me to trip a bit,

" (Y/N) IS HERE! YAY!" The high pitch British scream could only belong to the narcissistic ginger known as Matt.

Once I got my balance back into my feet, I continued down the stairs and greeted Matt with a wave.

" Yeah she lives here, idiot. She's not going anywhere." A deeper voice had spoken, I turned around and Tom was there as expected. I smile shrunk a bit at his last comment.

" Sup (y/n)." You snapped out of your thoughts and responded with a casual 'yo.'

The three of us then heard a thick accent cursing in the kitchen, no doubt it was Tord,

" For jævla skyld! Just let me have the last piece!!"

Sure enough, when we walked into the kitchen, Edd and Tord were fighting over the last piece of bacon. I let out a sigh, and the two boys finally acknowledged our existence. That alone didn't stop their argument though.

I didn't even bother attempting to break up the fight, I never could anyways. Their little fuss always ends one of two ways. Edd steals the bacon from under Tord's nose, or vise versa.

I just grabbed a small portion of food, and sat down.

I knew I would be gone by the end of tonight...but I wanted to taste Edd's cooking one last time.

Something interesting happened, instead of one of the two boys getting the bacon, they halved it and sat down. Of all my four years living in this house with these people, they've never shared their bacon.

Strange.

Dinner wasn't as talkative as it usually was when we all ate at the table. Usually we'd all have a big group discussion about our day, or week. Tonight was quiet, giving me an opportunity,

" Hey, guys?" Each one of their heads turned to me, and Edd signalled me to continue,

" I just wanted to say, thank you." Their brows furrowed but I held out a hand to tell them to let me finish,

" You four have helped me with so much over the past few years. From when you let me live here when I couldn't find proper housing situations, to letting me borrow the car. I just wanted to formally tell you all how grateful I really am. You are truly the kindest people I've ever met." As I went on talking, I realized how bad of an idea this actually was.

I mean, will they get suspicious? I'm just showing gratitude right? It shouldn't sound like a cry for help or anything...

As I snapped out of thought for the fiftieth time today, I notice that all of the boys have some type of smile on their face, even Tom!

Edd was smiling like a proud mother,

Matt was smiling giddily,

Tord had a smug, 'cool guy' smile,

And Tom had the smallest smile that made my heart melt.

I awkwardly continued my fake smile, and sat down.

Conversation continued on as would on a normal night, with the topic being past pleasant memories.

I volunteered to wash the dishes, it was the least I could do. There was only one problem. For some ungodly reason, Tom had insisted on helping me.

I couldn't figure out why at first, untill it dawned on me that he probably needed something from me.

So as I scrubbed the forgetten food off of the ceramic plate, he rinsed and dried them. We did this in silence, aside from the running water. Tom's the first one to break the tension filled silence,

" So, how have you been?" It was such a simple question, I could have simply faked a toothy grin, and said that I was great. I could have thanked him for asking. I could have asked him back.

But I only did one of those things.

" I've been doing just as good as I always do." I reply with a small sad smile. I tear my eyes away from the dish water," How about you? You've been awfully quiet tonight."

He chuckles lowly," Just had a lot on my mind, trying to face some of my problems, that's all." I stop what I'm doing and look over at him,

" Do you want to talk about it? I think the others are asleep already."

Normally when Tom is having any type of problem, he comes to me for advice, or even just for someone to listen to him rant when he's drunk. I even gave him a spare key to my room if he ever needs me while I'm asleep. He's offered the same for me, but I told him that I have a counselor. I try not to lie to my housemates all the time, only when necessary.

He simply shakes his head in response," Nah, this is one I have to deal with on my own," I sigh,

" Alright then, but keep my offer in mind. Just try to remember to see me before I go to bed, I'm...going to bed early tonight. I have something to do tommorow." He nods in understanding.

After we finish the dishes, we say our goodnights,

" I'll see you in the morning, (y/n)." I give one last fake smile,

" Same to you, Tom. Sleep well." I see him nod and walk down the hall as I close my door and lock it for the final time.

I walk into my bathroom and look into the mirror. All I see is a monstrosity of a person glaring back at me.

The bags under my eyes had only gotten worse after the sleepless nights I spent writing my suicide note.

I decided to skip reading over it one last time, I want nothing that could alter my decision at hand here. If I read my dying love letter that's written to Tom, I might stop myself in some kind of silly hope that everything could be okay again. It was too late for all that now.

So, I grabbed my blade that had served me well over the years, and stepped into the bathtub. I didn't cry, I didn't shake in fear of what I was about to do. I sadly smiled instead. As I took my hoodie off, revealing a tank top that no one knew I owned. I set my hoodie softly onto the floor, and turned on the hot water.

I took a deep breath in, and sigh, grabbing my blade and getting to work on my first artery. It took me a couple tries to find it.

But once I did, it started the red tint in the once clear bath water. I took in a shaky breath, adjusting to the dizziness of loosing so much blood so quickly.

At this point I couldn't even hear the bathwater running, everything was muffled.

I reached to turn it off, and a hand was placed onto mine. It takes me a good second to register that there was someone next to the tub, yelling my name right next to my face.

I try my best to focus on who could have caught me. Yet it's so difficult to take in my surroundings at this point.

So as I stare at the person beside my bathtub with fading eyes. I feel pressure on my wound, and see something being wrapped around it.

I start panicking, trying to say no, to let me die.

But I just can't. I just watch as my life is saved against my will.

Suddenly I can see that I'm moving, I can't figure out how until I notice the arms carrying me bridal style to a soft surface. That's when I lost consciousness for the next hour.

I didn't exactly 'wake up' more like fazed into existence. It's like I just gradually became aware of what was around me.

I became aware of the sobs coming from my bedside, and of the pressure squeezing my hand.

I forced my eyes open and tried to sit up. Yet I instantly regretted my decision, pain shot throughout my body. I glance over to my hand and up the....purple arm....

Who is this? Or perhaps I should say, what is this?

It's some kind of...monster? Hybrid? It looked kind of human... I could only see the torso and up. Even then, the arms grew bigger the farther down the arms stretched, and turned a deeper and deeper shade of purple. Horns poked out of the head laying slightly onto my shin, poking me a bit.

" Am-" I hold my throat. That hurt. I clear my throat of the mucus and start again as the unknown monster wakes up,

" Am I dead?"

The monsters head shoots up, and I can't help but recognize the 'eyes' that I've grown to love.

" T-Tom..."

He tries to smile for me, but it twists into a sad frown as his black orbs start to water,

" (Y/n)....(y/n) you're...y-you're okay! You're okay..." He said this over and over again as he cupped my cheeks with his transformed hands.

I grab onto his forearm to steady his shaking. This was starting to scare me.

I had never seen this man shed a tear in front of me, yet alone bawl into my shoulder like he was doing now,

" Tom, it's okay, I'm right here." I whispered this, and many other reassurances into his ear. Confirming to him that it was going to be okay and that, to my displeasure, I wasn't going anywhere.

He seemed to get angry after a few minutes, he ripped himself away from me and took hold of my shoulders,

" WHAT IF YOU WEREN'T RIGHT HERE? WHAT IF I HADN'T OF WALKED IN!! WHAT THEN HUH? YOU WOULDN'T BE RIGHT HERE!!! YOU'D BE GONE!! I would have...lost you..." He slid down the side of my bed as he finished his outburst. He sat crying into his knees.

I didn't know what to do. Is he mad at me? But despite the questions, I acted without thinking.

I began to run my fingers through his hair, almost brushing it. He seemed surprised at first, before he leaned into my touch.

" I'm sorry Tom. I didn't think it would effect you like this..." All was silent for a few moments. Until,

" Why..?" He sniffled a few times before I could respond.

" Why? Why what?" He looked up to me,

" Why would you try to leave me?" I couldn't even bring myself to say anything after that. Tom seemed to sense the frog in my throat, and continued,

" You don't realize, (y/n). You don't realize how special you are. To your family, your friends. I mean bloody hell (y/n)! What about us?! Edd would be heartbroken! And how are we supposed to explain something like that to Matt?" I avoided the possible eye contact and twidled my thumbs in my lap,

" What about me (y/n)? How am I supposed to go on living with myself if you, the love of my life, killed herself?" My mind went blank. He took my hand in between both of his,

" I know this isn't the greatest time for this, but if it'll boost your self esteem even a little bit, I don't care about embarrassing myself. (Y/n) (L/n), I am deeply in love with you, and have been since you moved in. I've loved you since you helped me to bed when I came in drunk all those years ago. I've loved you since you beat my Pac-Man score at the arcade, I acted so mad, but you were just so cute so excited like that... (Y/n)... Please let me help you love yourself by loving you..."

By the time he was done with his speech, I was in tears, a small frown on my face. He seemed to get the wrong idea as he instantly dropped my hand and got up,

" I got the message, I'll just uhm... I'll just g-" I grabbed his hoodie strings and pulled him in for a kiss.

We could both tell that there would be many more to come.

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

I'm sorry if it's extremely long, I just love to write angst haha...

[dccomicsimagines]

What’s Lost is Found - Batfamily Imagine - Part Nine

Warning - Depressive Thoughts, Angst Content

Part One  Part Two  Part Three Part Four  Part Five  Part Six  Part Six.Five  Part Seven  Part Eight   Part Ten  Part Eleven

Requested by Anon -  I really love the batdad concept,it's so cute! I was just wondering,are we going to have some flashbacks of Bruce being a dad to (y/n) in What's Lost is Found?

***

“We’re here,” Jon whispered as he dropped out of the clouds to fly low. Your heart skipped a beat when you took your face out of his neck to see the manor again. A wave of joy and relief washed over you. Home.

“You know the secret entrance to the cave, right?” You pointed down at a rock by the lake. 

Jon hummed, flying toward it. “Yeah, it’s how I met Damian back when we used to hang out.” You tightened your arms around his neck as he hit the rock at full speed. The two of you went through it and flew down a dark tunnel. “I remember when Damian first told me about the holographic rock. I didn’t believe him.” 

“Oh, I know.” You laughed despite everything. “We made fun of you through the camera as you poked at it before you toppled down the tunnel.” 

Jon smiled for the first time since you left prom. “I figured.” He sobered once he got to the end of the tunnel and flew into the cave. Much to your surprise, the lights were on. The batcomputer running data. Someone sat in the batcomputer’s chair. Your heart went into your throat, thinking it was your dad for a moment before you told yourself it wasn’t. 

The person in the chair turned when Jon landed behind them. “Oh, Mx. Wayne,” Lucius said, blinking in surprise. He frowned at Jon. You tried to get out of Jon’s arms, but he wouldn’t let you go.

“Jon, it’s Lucius. It’s fine,” you whispered in his ear. He relaxed and set you on your feet. “Hi, Lucius. What’s happening?” You went over to the computer, frowning at the footage from across the city. 

Lucius turned back to the computer. “Well, the city is under siege.” He brought up security video from Wayne Tower. A figure you knew led in a group of mercenaries. Your heart stopped at the sight. 

“Is that Bane?” Jon caught you before your knees gave out. 

“We’re not sure. Batgirl is working to get a confirmation.” Lucius gave you a look of concern. “I was under the impression you were retired, Mx. Wayne.” 

“Not now.” You swallowed hard. “Did you call in the Justice League?” 

Lucius pursed his lips. “No, there appears to be a number of disasters around the world. The Justice League has their hands full.” You pulled away from Jon and went to the computer. 

“This was set up.” You frowned, accessing the second keyboard on the batcomputer. “There is no way all this could happen at once.” 

Jon pressed close to your back, hovering rather protectively. “You don’t know that.” 

You glared at him to back off, but he stayed where he was. “There was a breakout at Stryker's Island and Blackgate. An earthquake in Peru and Japan. Plus there is a terrorist attack in Atlantis. All this on top of Gotham under siege. This is not a coincidence.”

Lucius hummed. “You are very much like your father, Mx. Wayne.” He frowned at the computer, bringing up footage of Gotham General Hospital. A tank-like batmobile crashed through the soldiers’ blockade around the hospital. Damian jumped out of one of the hospital’s windows and glided down into the batmobile. You relaxed, knowing he was safe.

“Your design?” You pointed at the batmobile.

“Yes, your father requested it before...well.” Lucius folded his hands, smiling as Damian drove off. Jon breathed down your neck. His arm wrapped around your waist. Irritation build up inside, but you ignored it. 

“I’m surprised you’re here in the cave, Lucius. We closed it up.” You flipped through the other footage, trying to get a better view of Bane-looking figure. Jon’s arm tightened enough to hurt. You put your hand on his. He relaxed.

“I was evacuated here along with some of our...more sensitive projects when we received intelligence about the siege.” Lucius frowned, bringing up the police scanner. “Oh dear.” 

“We got 10-71 on 45th and 3rd. Gotham Gazette is on fire.” The police scanner beeped as another voice cut off the first. “10-72. Firefighters are trapped in the building by a 10-32.”

You pulled away from Jon. “Is anyone able to help them?” 

Lucius shook his head. “No, Batman, Red Hood, and Batwoman are on the docks stopping more soldiers from entering the city. Red Robin and Spoiler are defending the police station. Batgirl is trailing the Bane lookalike. Orphan, Bluebird, and Signal are preventing Two Face’s bank robberies. Huntress, Batwing, Starfire, and Nightwing are MIA.” 

“What?” Your blood ran cold. Jon’s arm tightened around your waist again. “Dick and Kori are here?!” 

Lucius nodded. “Yes, we lost track of them two hours ago after they went to stop the Penguin’s gun smuggling ring.” He got to his feet. 

“We have to go.” You turned to look at Jon. Jon’s eyes were wide. He shook his head. “Jon, we have to go. They need us.” 

“No, this is too dangerous. We know this is all because of you. They’re doing this to get you.” Jon cupped your cheek, looking you in the eye. He was more serious than you ever seen him before. For the first time, you couldn’t see the puppy dog elements that you loved about him. 

You shook your head, pulling away from him. “So what? People need help.” You headed over to the display case that held Jason’s Robin suit. “I’ll use this since my suit doesn’t fit anymore.” 

“You won’t have to do that, Mx. Wayne,” Lucius said. You looked back at him in surprise. He smiled and gestured over to a huge case next to the batcomputer. The Wayne Tech logo made your heart skip a beat. “I have something for you. Consider it a graduation gift if you will.” 

“(Y/N).” Jon grabbed your arm as you headed over to the case. “Please. We have to stay out of this.” 

“Do you know something I don’t?” You spun to him. Rage sparked in your heart again. “Because my family is out there in danger! We have to help them!” 

Jon sighed deeply. “Fine.” He closed his eyes. You pulled your arm away from him, wondering if your relationship with Jon will ever be the same again. Tears burned your eyes, but you focused on what was important. You pressed your hand against the bioreader of the case. It beeped, registering your name and opening to reveal a brand new high tech Robin suit. 

It took your breath away. “Oh my.” 

Lucius chuckled. “Get ready, Mx. Wayne. We need you out there.” You timidly took the suit out, feeling the armor and tech. It was the suit you always dreamed of. You turned to go to the changing area, brushing against Jon as you past him. 

“(Y/N).” Jon followed you into the changing room. You sighed, undressing even though he was there. He fell silent, blushing and turning his back to you.  He took off his shirt, revealing his Superboy suit underneath. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about anything of this,” you hissed, slipping on the suit. It was like a second skin. The tech turned on at your biological signature. You put the mask on, finding it suddenly connected to the batcomputer.

Jon groaned, spinning to face you in his full Superboy suit. “I couldn’t. This is so much bigger than we thought. I didn’t even know about all this until just before prom and that’s only because it was decided you would stay with us longer.” 

Your hands clenched into fists. Rage ate you alive along with the worry for your family. Dick and Kori were MIA. You knew they could take care of themselves, but why did you have to cause all this? Why did you kill Bane? Why did your father have to die? “I can’t talk about this now. We have to go. Those firefighters need our help.” You marched out of the changing room. 

“As you can tell, the suit is connected to the batcomputer. It also increases your strength and agility.” Lucius smiled at you in the suit with pride. “I would give you more detailed instructions, but we need you to learn as you go.” 

You nodded. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.” You turned to Jon. He pursed his lips and picked you up in his arms. 

“Keep your comlink on, Mx. Wayne.” A trace of concern crossed Lucius’ face. “We can’t lose contact with anyone else.” 

“They won’t,” Jon answered for you as he flew into the air. You stayed tense in his arms, wondering if you should have trusted Jon. A lump formed in your throat. You pushed that aside. Jon flew out of the cave and straight toward the war-torn city.

***

You helped the firefighter to his feet. “Robin, where have you been?” he gasped as flames ate up the floor below you. 

“Around.” You half-carried him to the window. Jon appeared, taking the firefighter from you.

“Get out of the building. It’s not stable.” Lucius’ voice filled your ear. Jon floated the firefighter down after giving you a warning look. 

“Can’t. One more inside.” You looked up, seeing the heartbeat through your mask’s bio-vision. The suit was amazing. You felt more alive than you had in a long time. 

Rolling out of the way of falling debris, you flipped your way up through the hole in the ceiling. “Help.” A weak voice came from the stairwell. You wandered over, putting in your rebreather to help with the smoke. It was thicker up here. 

You opened the door to the stairwell only to see a blast of flames hurling toward you. Jumping out of the way, you heard a chilling laugh. “Come on out, Robin,” a male voice shouted. Your mask identified the voice as the Human Flame. “Let me burn you up. Give me that million.” You took out a freeze grenade and threw it around the corner.  

“Don’t you hate Martian Manhunter? Why are you even in Gotham?” You smiled when you heard him howl. Moving so fast to the point where you thought you were flying, you ran around the corner and kicked him hard in the face. He grunted. The ice that formed around him shattered. He slammed into the wall. “Woah.” You laughed, flexing your arm in the suit. “This is so cool.” 

Suddenly, an arm wrapped around your waist and you really were flying. “The building is coming down and you are just hanging out in here?” Jon grumbled in your ear. He picked up the Human Flame by the scruff of his costume and carried you both outside. He dropped the Human Flame by one of the cop cars. 

“I thought it was another firefighter.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “That was exhilarating.” 

“Mx. Wayne, we lost contact with Batman. His last location was at northeast end of the docks,” Lucius said. Your blood ran cold. 

“Are you sure we’re ready to let Damian know we’re here?” Jon looked nervous as he flew toward the docks when you pointed in the right direction.

You snorted, pretending your hands weren’t shaking. “He probably already knows we’re here.” A high pitch whistle filled the air. You looked over Jon’s shoulder to see a missile coming toward you. “Jon!” 

Jon dropped you, taking the hit. The explosion sent you soaring to the ground. You pulled out your grapple gun, flipping through the air before firing it at a nearby roof. It took the impact as you rolled into your landing. Jon went flying, crashing into the street a block away. 

You sprinted down the street toward Jon only for bright headlights to suddenly beam from behind you. Going off instinct, you rolled into an alleyway as brakes squealed to a stop. You blinked at the tank-like batmoblie. Batman hopped out. You felt sick, reminding yourself that wasn’t your father.

“TT.” He marched to you. “This is not the time for some simpleton to dress like Robin.”

“I’m not a simpleton and I can’t believe you talk like that when you’re Batman. Who will be scared of you?” you retorted, smiling at the shock on his face.

“(Y/N), go home.” He grabbed your arm. “This is a big enough disaster without you making it worse.” 

You yanked your arm out of his grasp. “Shut up.” He narrowed his eyes at you. “I made this mess, so I have to help clean it up.” 

“Ouch,” Jon groaned, appearing at the opening of the alleyway with a limp. “You okay, Robin?” He came to your side. Damian eyed him.

“You brought them here, Superboy?” Damian snarled. It was almost like they were never friends in the first place. Jon bit his lip nervously, keeping his eyes on you. “You idiot, don’t you understand?! This is what they want! You think that missile was a mistake!” 

You swallowed hard. “Why was your comlink off?” You crossed your arms, pushing aside your anger and frustration. “We were sent to look for you.” 

“Fox.” Damian growled. “He gave you that suit too, didn’t he?” Damian tried to grab your arm again. You stepped out of his reach.

“He said Nightwing and Starfire are MIA.” Jon wrapped an arm around your waist. Damian stared at Jon’s arm before glaring darkly at Jon. To his credit, Jon scowled right back at him.

“Yes, I was about to investigate before you dropped in front of my car.” Damian  yanked you away from Jon. “Keep your hands to yourself, Superboy.” 

Jon growled. “Robin and I have been dating for quite some time. I have a right to touch them if they want me to.” 

The pure fury on Damian’s face was priceless. If this wasn’t happening in the middle of a war-zone, you would have enjoyed it more. “Nightwing and Starfire,” you said, stepping between the two men. “We have to go find them now.” 

“Fine.” Damian’s grip tightened on your arm. He pulled you toward the tank-like batmobile. “You’re coming with me and you’re going to stay in the batmobile. Do you understand?” 

Jon trailed behind you before flying into the air. You hopped into the batmobile. “I’m not staying in here. You need backup, Damian.” The comlink button was off. You switched it back on. 

“Oh good, Mr. Wayne. Welcome back into the fold,” Lucius said sarcastically. Damian hopped in beside you. 

“TT, some people don’t need your sarcasm, Fox.” Damian glared at you as the batmobile sealed and took off toward the Iceberg lounge. 

Lucius hummed. “Mr. Pennyworth called. He is in Smallville and discovered Mx. Wayne and Mr. Kent have disappeared from their prom. I informed him that they were here.” 

Damian’s eyes shot to you at the word ‘prom’. You did your best not to look at him. “Tell him we’re sorry, but this is something I have to do,” you said, pursing your lips. You glanced up to see Jon flying above the batmobile. 

“Of course.” Lucius’ voice clicked off. 

“Prom? You went to prom with him?” Damian glanced at you. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. “Are you dating him?”

“Yes, if you must know.” You crossed your arms. 

Damian frowned. “Has he...have you and him....?” 

You snorted. “Why do you care? I’m just the one who tarnished our father’s legacy.” 

Damian slammed on the batmobile’s brakes, sliding to a stop. “You did.” He glared at you. “I will let you back me up, but you have to do everything I say and you are to go home with Grayson once we find him.” 

You nodded, not trusting yourself to answer out loud. A tear slipped out of your mask. You quickly wiped it away with your hand. Damian noticed. He grunted, hopping out of the batmobile. 

Jon landed beside the car, offering you a hand. “You okay?” Jon whispered, eyeing Damian. 

“It’s fine.” You let Jon take your hand as you both trailed after Damian. Damian glared up at the Iceberg Lounge. 

“Why is (Y/N) here?” Tim demanded, landing next to Damian with Steph behind him. 

“It’s going to be like this all night, isn’t it?” you said to Jon. Jon nodded, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. Steph raised an eyebrow at the sight. Tim just frowned. 

Someone landed behind you. “All I know is that Dick is going to kill us all, and Superboy is going to get castrated for sure,” Jason chuckled, walking up to join the others. 

Jon shifted uncomfortably. “Stop it.” You glared at the others. “Can we just focus on saving Nightwing and Starfire please?” 

“Huntress and Batwing escaped and reported in. Apparently, the Penguin hired Deathstroke.” Tim worked on his wrist computer. “And they’re waiting for us to take the bait.” 

“Then we go.” You started toward the building, but Jon held you back. 

“No, you don’t.” Damian gripped your shoulder, pulling you away from Jon. “This is a trap for you. I bet they’re trying to collect the bounty on your head.” 

You narrowed your eyes, swallowing the rock in your throat. “That’s Dick in there, Damian.” 

Damian glared back at you. “No, you’re not going in,” Tim said, stepping up to glower at you too. “You caused this mess. Stay out of it and let us fix it.” Your heart ached when you saw the strain Tim was under. Guilt dropped your stomach to your feet. He never used to be this stressed or mean.

“(Y/N) stays.” Jason stepped between you and Tim. “They have to do this.” 

“Jason, I know you’re the reason they’re here. You texted them that you left, knowing they would follow.” Tim leaned in close, staring straight into the lenses of Jason’s helmet. “I hacked your phone, because I knew you’d pull some shit like this.” 

“Watch it, Timbo.” Jason’s hands clenched into fists. “I can still beat you within a inch of your life.” 

You were going to push your way between them, but Steph beat you to it. “Enough. Oh my god, stop this stupid pissing contest. We got family in danger in there.” She scowled at Jason then Tim. Tim blushed, looking away. Jason snorted. “Let’s shape up. Make a plan. Get them out alive and then we’ll argue.” Steph looked at you and Jon. Damian’s hand tightened on your shoulder. “Robin and Superboy come with us.” Steph looked at each of your brothers. “Is that understood?” 

All three grumbled. “Wow,” Jon mumbled, sneaking back to your side when Damian wasn’t looking. “She’s tough.” 

“She was Robin once too, you know.” You tensed as Tim went into a plan to rescue Dick and Kori. 

***

“Irresponsible,” Tim grumbled as he crawled in the vent ahead of you. “Dumb. Childish.” You wished Steph had been sent with you to shut him up. However, it was just you and Tim.

Jason and Jon were going through the front door, creating a distraction and taking down whatever goons the Penguin had ready. Damian and Steph were coming up from under the Iceberg Lounge. You and Tim got stuck with the vents. Your worry for Dick and Kori plus Tim’s verbal abuse made you want to scream and break a few bones. However, you decided to be the bigger person your father would want you to be. 

“This is all Dick’s fault. His stupid hardheadedness had to rub off on you. He refused to put you into stasis like I told him.” Tim kept mumbling. You froze at the stasis part. He was an completely different person than the Tim you remembered. Did you really force him to change that much?

“Wow, thanks Tim. I didn’t realize how much you and Damian were alike.” Tim flinched at your words. You smiled sadly, missing the brother who showed you cartoons and always listened to you. Your heart broke at the fact you did this. By killing Bane, you made Tim into this malicious man.

Tim slipped out of the vent into a store room. He held his arms up to help you down, but you ignore him, dropping down on your own. Tim sighed. “You don’t understand,” Tim said, guilt flashed in his eyes. “(Y/N), you started a war. You broke Batman’s code and it started a chain reaction. I mean we would have had some conflict due to Batman’s...” He swallowed hard, unable to say death. You wondered if Tim hadn’t processed your father’s death yet. Poor Tim, maybe he didn’t have a chance to grieve yet because of the mess you made. “But we wouldn’t have had this if you didn’t kill Bane.”

“But Bane might still be alive. I saw him in the cameras.” You brought up the footage on your wrist computer. Tim blinked at the footage. 

“That’s not him.” Tim turned away. He hooked up his wrist computer to the computer panel next to the door and hacked it.  

“How do you know? Mr. Fox said Batgirl was investigating it.” You followed, taking in everything he did. A boom sounded somewhere in the building. You flinched, hoping that it was just part of Jon and Jason’s distraction. 

Tim fixed you with a icy glare. “I’ve been gathering intel for almost a year. I know who it is.” You nodded for him to keep talking, but he fell silent. 

“Seriously?” You punched his arm. 

“What?” Tim hacked away on his wrist computer. 

“Who is it?” Your voice became dangerously low. Tim looked back at you.

“You don’t need to know.” He caught your fist before you could hit him again. “You’re only here to help us rescue Nightwing and Starfire, then you’re out of this. I’ll put you in stasis if I have to. I don’t care what Dick says.” 

A frown pulled at your lips. Your eyes filled with tears. You quickly turned away from him, so he wouldn’t see. Curse your emotions, probably another thing that Dick rubbed off on you. A stony silence fell between you and Tim as he hacked away.  

“I should have known I’d find you two here,” Dick’s voice said from behind you. You and Tim jumped in surprise. Tim grabbed your arm and stepped in front of you protectively. 

Your heart skipped a beat as you studied Dick in his Nightwing costume. Tim tensed. “I thought you were being held in the Penguin's office?” Tim asked, squeezing your arm in a secret signal your father had taught you. ‘Danger.’

“Escaped. It’s what I do best.” Dick leaned over to peek at you. “Hey Robbie, nice to see you.” It felt wrong. A shiver ran up your spine. 

“Right, I forgot.” Tim forced a smile on his face. He squeezed your arm again, another signal. ‘Dodge and run.’ “Hey, just so I know, when did we first meet?” 

The wrong Dick frowned. “Why are you asking me that? Don’t you know me, Red?” 

“No reason.” In one quick motion, you dived out of the way as Tim threw a electrified batarang at the wrong Dick. Dick screamed before dissolving into a pile of clay on the floor. Clayface emerged into his true form. You dashed out of the room, barely avoiding Clayface’s arm that tried to grab at you.

You sprinted down the hall, sliding to trip a guard when he burst out of one of the doors. Clayface and Tim crashed out into the hallway. “Robin, run,” Tim ordered, dodging Clayface’s foot. 

“Going.” You kept running, bursting through the door onto the main stage of the iceberg lounge. It was dark. Your mask switched to night vision. You avoided the instruments. Suddenly, a spotlight clicked on and you were blinded. Something hit you from behind. You fell to the ground, all the breath forced out of you.

“There you are.” Your mask rebooted itself and identified the voice as Deathstroke. A foot pressed on your back, holding you down. “So easy. Your father would be disappointed.” 

A ice cold shiver went down your spine. Hot, blistering rage filled you. “Shut up.” You used your suit’s increased strength to throw his foot off your back and rolled to your feet. 

Deathstroke grunted in surprise before pulling out his sword. “Let’s see how much of a disappointment you are.” 

You narrowed your eyes. Taking a deep breath, you relaxed into a fighting stance. Deathstroke zoomed toward you.

It was a long, hard fight. He got you several times with his sword, but you got a few hits in to startle him away before the sword could sink into you. You knew you wouldn’t last long.

Deathstroke kicked you off the stage. You landed hard on your arm. The bone snapped. You screamed, rolling away as Deathstroke jumped to stab you. The sword missed you by inches. 

“You’re good, but not good enough.” Deathstroke laughed, suddenly kneeling on your chest. You gasped, crushed beneath him. Your good arm smacked at him, but he didn’t react. “I could use you. Train you to be better.” He reached down to run a hand through your hair. “Like I did to Terra.” 

“Fuck you.” You choked. Deathstroke snarled, slapping your face hard. Blood filled your mouth. 

You prepared yourself for the worse, remembering everything your father told you about Deathstroke. 

A sharp cry of rage echoed through the room. Deathstroke was slammed off your chest by a black and blue blur. You took a deep breath, wincing at the pain in your ribs. Some of them were broken. 

You forced yourself up to see Nightwing punching Deathstroke over and over again. “Never ever touch my kid! You hear me!” 

“Di...Nightwing, stop,” you whispered, unable to breathe enough air. “You’re going to kill him.” 

Dick stopped. Deathstroke laid on the floor limply. Dick got to his feet and ran to your side. “Hush, baby. I’m here.” His hand ran through your hair, inspecting you. “I don’t know how you’re here and why you are in a Robin suit, but we’ll talk about that later.” You tried to relax, but you were in too much pain. “Your arm’s broken. God, those cuts are going to need stitches.” 

A wave of suspicious came over you. Clayface’s version of Dick flashed before your eyes. “When did I first taste popcorn?” 

He frowned slightly. “Honey, how hard did you hit your head?” 

“Answer me.” You growled.

Dick sighed, glancing around. “It was the first time you went to the movies. I took you.” He smiled. “You were so cute, licking it first before finally putting it in your mouth.” 

You relaxed. “Oh, it’s you for real this time.” Dick helped you to your feet. “Where’s Kori?” 

Dick frowned. “I don’t know. I was looking for her when I heard you scream.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulders. You held your arm, hissing from the pain. “This was a setup. The whole thing.” 

“It’s all my fault.” You shivered. Dick led you out of the main lounge. 

“No, it’s not. Let’s just get you out of here.” Dick threw a batarang at a goon that came around the corner. “Are you alone here?” 

Almost on cue, the wall in front of the two of you exploded. Dick knocked you down as Jon flew past you and crashed back into the main lounge. You groaned, black swarmed your vision as you struggled to breathe. Your ribs and arm were on fire from Dick’s weight. 

“Of course, Superboy brought you. I’ll kill him,” Dick grumbled, getting off you quickly. “Sorry, honey. Just hold on for me.” 

“(Y/N).” Jon crawled to your side. Blood ran down his face from a cut on his forehead. 

“What happened to you?” You forgot about your own pain, reaching up to wipe some of the blood out of his eyes. 

Jon winced. “Metallo.” 

Dick glared at Jon. “Get Robin out of here.” He looked you in the eye. “Stay at the cave with Jon. We’ll see you soon.” Dick kissed your forehead before going to join the fight. Jon picked you up.

“We can’t go. Kori.” You panted. Jon’s arms put painful pressure on your broken ribs. “Damn it.” 

“Sorry.” Jon set you on your feet. “(Y/N), you’re in no shape to stay.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Neither are you.” 

He sighed. His shoulders slumped. “I can never win against you, can I?”

A weak smile pulled on your lips. “No.” 

Jon snorted. “Come on, my x-ray vision picked up some activity in the basement.” You nodded, holding your arm to your chest as you led Jon to the staircase. 

***

The two of you found a metal freezer in the basement. There was a lot of damage outside of the freezer along with unconscious soldiers. “Batman and Spoiler came through here,” you said, eyeing the wounds on the soldiers. 

Jon stared at the freezer for a long moment. “Oh no.” He quickly ripped off the door and Kori fell to the floor. You gasped, rushing to her side. Your ribs and arm throbbed, but you ignored it. 

She was cold as death. Her orange skin tinted blue. “Please be okay.” You checked for a pulse. It was faint, but still there. You glanced at Kori’s baby bump nervously. “Jon, you have to warm her up now.” 

“How?” Jon glanced around in a panic. 

You pointed at your eyes. “Heat vision.” 

“But I’d burn through her.” Jon shook his head. His eyes were on Kori’s baby bump too.

“You can control it. Warm up the floor around her.” You moved away. Jon nodded. His eyes glowed red as the beams shot out of his eyes and into the floor. The heat soaked into your feet. Your suit sent you a warning, and immediately started cooling you off. 

Slowly, Kori’s skin lost the blue tint. She stirred, but didn’t wake up. “Kori,” you whispered. Jon turned off his heat vision. You approached, kneeling down beside her. “Please wake up.” Your eyes filled with tears. “Please.” 

Jon’s hand touched your shoulder, making you flinch. Pain racked through your body at the sudden movement. “We have to get her help.” 

“Take her to the cave.” You nodded to Kori, getting up. Your broken arm burned in agony. Every breath hurt. 

“I’m not leaving you here.” Jon shook his head. 

“Jon, we can’t leave Kori here. She’ll be defenseless.” You glared at him. “Take her to the cave.” 

Jon sighed. “They’ll kill me for leaving you here. I mean they’re already going to kill me for bringing you here and for not taking you home.” 

You grabbed his arm with your good arm. “Please.” Jon looked into your eyes.

“Okay.” He bent down to pick up Kori with some difficulty. “You better be here when I get back.” 

“I can’t really move that fast to not be.” You waved for him to fly off. Jon gave you one last look before bursting up through the ceiling until he was out of the building and in the open air. 

Alone, you glanced around at the unconscious soldiers. You studied their uniforms. They were mercenaries, but you recognized some of them. Some of them were League of Assassins, others were military trained soldiers. Whoever was wearing the Bane mask pulled a lot of weight. You swallowed hard. Why did you have to cause all this?

The hallway’s temperature dropped suddenly. You heard heavy footsteps coming down the hall. Kneeling behind the freezer, you held your breath. Your mask identified the footsteps as Mr. Freeze. 

Staying quiet, you heard him wander around the room. Stupid Deathstroke for breaking your arm. You could take him if you had your arm and ribs intact. 

When it finally sounded like he was leaving, you took a deep breath. You hissed in pain at your lungs expanding into your ribs. Suddenly, Mr. Freeze’s footsteps stopped. You cursed yourself. The freezer you hid behind was pushed aside and you came face to face with Mr. Freeze’s freeze gun.

“Robin,” Mr. Freeze said in his robotic voice.  He looked at you with a curious expression. You frowned, ready to dodge. “I did not expect you to be here.”

“Where else would I be?” You stayed where you were, waiting.

Mr. Freeze hummed. He glanced over his shoulder. “Freeze them and we’ll split the reward,” the Penguin said, waddling into the room with his bodyguards behind him. 

Dick was going to be so upset. You hoped Jon wouldn’t feel guilty for leaving you here. Closing your eyes, you let go. The end would come. At least you would be with your father. Tears filled your eyes. He’d be so mad you joined him so soon.

The freeze gun went off. However, you didn’t feel the ice overtake you. You opened your eyes to see the Penguin and his bodyguards frozen in a block of ice. “I never did like you,” Mr. Freeze said to the Penguin before turning to you. “I never liked Bane either.” He walked out of the room. You stayed where you were, shocked. 

After a few long minutes, you forced yourself to your feet and went upstairs to find the others. The battle had been won. You found the others in the main lounge, handcuffing people and tending to the wounded. Dick frowned when he saw you. 

“You’re supposed to be at the cave.” He hurried over to you, taking the first aid kit from Tim and started to splint your arm. 

“We found Kori.” Dick froze. “Jon took her back to the cave. She needed help.” You swallowed past a rock in your throat. “I’m so sorry.” 

“None of this is your fault, okay?” Dick’s voice trembled. His hands shook. 

Tim came over to take over as Dick couldn’t finish the splint. “This is a mess.” He studied you. “I heard you took on Deathstroke.” 

“It wasn’t my choice. He jumped me.” You shivered. Tim finished the splint. Sun peeked through the holes of the building. It was already morning. 

“The police and National Guard should be here soon. We need to go,” Tim said. 

Dick nodded, shaken. “I need to get to Kori.” 

“We’ll all regroup at the cave,” Damian said, taking your good arm to pull you with him. “Nightwing, come along.” 

You stumbled on debris, falling against Damian. He growled, jerking you upright. Your arm and ribs burned at the movement. Dick followed. He reached over to remove Damian’s hand from your arm. “Stop it.” 

“TT.” Damian called the batmobile to him. It drove and stopped in front of him. He hopped in the driver’s seat. Dick helped you into the backseat before taking the passenger’s seat. 

“Hang on. I’ll ride with you,” Jason said, running over. He crawled over Dick like a little kid, which was an hilarious sight given that Jason was taller and broader than him. Jason sat down beside you. Tim called over his bike and him and Steph climbed on. 

Damian grumbled, driving off. The sunrise was beautiful, but the city was damaged. No people were around. Buildings crumbled, holes in the street, streets signs knocked over, street lights blown up. It was a combat zone. You leaned your head against Jason’s arm. Jason hummed. You closed your eyes, hating that you destroyed everything your father cared about with one choice that you couldn’t even remember making.

***

You laid next to Jon in your old bed at the manor. Alfred had arrived, reopening bedrooms for everyone get to a few hours of rest. Jon wasn’t supposed to be in here, but he slipped in when everyone else was asleep. Now he snored softly with his hand on your arm. There was a bandage on his forehead for the cut he gotten during the fight.

Your body ached. Every breath still hurt even with the pain pills Alfred had forced you to take. Your arm, now in a cast, throbbed away. The cuts from Deathstroke’s sword were stitched up, stinging. 

Dick was still in the cave with Kori. He went silent when he saw her under the sun lamp in the cave. She hadn’t woken up yet. No one would tell you if the baby was okay or not. 

Unable to stand it any longer, you rolled to your feet. The pain intensified, but you pushed through. You wandered out of your room. A rock formed in your throat when you reached your father’s room. Slowly, you pushed open the door, frowning at it’s lifeless quiet state. Alfred had covered everything in sheets, but that’s it. Your father’s belongings hadn’t been moved. 

You pulled off the sheet on the dresser and opened the top drawer. His shirts were neatly folded inside. You picked up a dark blue one and pressed your face into it. It still smelled like him. You relaxed, letting yourself float back into your memories if only for a moment.

***

You were packing your suitcase, knowing the flight back to Gotham was in the morning. Currently, you were in the Wayne Tech’s penthouse located in Paris. Your father and you had traced Magpie there where she had attempted to steal the Regent Diamond from the Louvre. Using the excuse of a business trip, Batman and Robin stopped Magpie while Bruce and (Y/N) supposedly attended business meetings. 

“(Y/N)?” Your father appeared in the doorway of your bedroom. He was wearing sweatpants and t-shirt. You remembered he got a phone call from Alfred, who had stayed behind in Gotham. From the tension in your father’s shoulders, Alfred must have scolded him about something.

���Yeah?” You sat down on your bed, swinging your legs playfully. 

He sighed. “I forgot again, didn’t I?” He sat down beside you on the bed. 

You eyed him, shrugging. “It’s not a big deal, Dad.” 

“Yes, it is. Fathers aren’t supposed to forget their kids’ birthday.” Bruce shifted uncomfortably. “Alfred made a suggestion.” 

“What? I don’t need anything, Dad. Being in Paris was a nice enough birthday for me.” You smiled, looking out the window at the beautiful view of the Eiffel Tower. 

Bruce cleared his throat. “Well, then you’ll be happy to know we’ll be spending an extra two days here then.” Your jaw dropped in shock. Bruce chuckled at the sight. “No patrol, no Batman or Robin. Just you and me and whatever you want to do.” 

“Are you serious?” Your heart skipped a beat in excitement. You thought about going to the Louvre and actually getting to look around this time instead of just stopping Magpie. All the food you could try. You licked your lips before hugging Bruce tightly. “Thank you, Dad. This is going to be great!” 

“You’re welcome. Happy birthday, (Y/N).” He hugged you back in his strong arms. You felt so loved, so safe.

***

You sobbed, burying your face into the shirt as you sank to your knees. Your body ached, but the pain in your heart was too great for you to stop. Deep down, you knew you would never get to feel that loved and safe again. 

Thin, strong arms suddenly hugged you from behind. You tensed as a sharp chin rested on the top of your head. It took you a moment to catch your breath. “Cass?” 

She hummed, hugging you tighter. You didn’t know she had come to the manor too. More sobs racked out of your body, hurting your ribs. Cass held you for a long time. Eventually, you stopped crying, exhaustion soaking into your bones. Your father’s shirt was soaked with your tears and snot. Cass guided you to your feet and led you back to your room. She clucked her tongue at Jon in your bed, but ignored him to tuck you in. Your father’s shirt stayed in your hands. 

“Sleep.” She patted your cheek before silently leaving the room. Jon’s arm wrapped around your waist to pull you close. His body heat permeated you like sunlight. Your pain faded as you let yourself fall into the blissfulness of sleep.

***

“This is only going to get worst!” Tim’s voice echoed throughout the cave. He, Damian, Jason, Barbara, Steph, Cass, and Duke were in the meeting area. Their debate grew more heated by the second. You shivered on the medbed as Alfred changed the bandages on your cuts.

Alfred frowned. You sighed, wincing when it hurt your ribs. Jon and Lois were having a very tense discussion in the corner. You felt bad for him, but you didn’t regret coming here. 

“Mx. (Y/N), take it easy. You are not going out tonight,” Alfred said firmly once he finished.

“Yes, Alfred.” You swallowed hard, getting off the medbed to wander over to the ICU area. Kori was still unconscious and under the sun lamp. Dick sat as close to her as he dared, staring at her with an empty expression. The monitors showed a steady heartbeat. A faint smile crossed your lips when you noticed two heartbeats on the monitors. 

You came to Dick’s side. He blinked, wrapped an arm around you. “Hey kiddo,” he whispered. His hand rubbed your side gently. It hurt your ribs, but you didn’t want to say anything.

“Is she okay?” You trembled.

“Her vitals and the baby’s are good, but she hasn’t woken up.” Dick ran his free hand through his hair only to wince from the movement. He had been hurt too. Your stomach twisted, threatening to lose the little food you managed to eat. “This isn’t your fault, honey. I don’t want to hear that from you.” You pursed your lips, tears threatening to fall. Dick kissed your cheek. “I didn’t want you to be part of this.” You wanted to scream. If you hadn’t come, you would be hearing about Kori’s injury about now if not more terrible news. It was three in the afternoon. You probably would have had fun at prom, fell asleep only to wake up to this horror that you caused. How could he be so dumb to try to keep you out of this?

“Shouldn’t you be with the others?” you asked. Dick pulled you to sit in his lap, hugging you tightly. You let him.

“No.” Dick squeezed you, hurting you. You bit your lip to keep from gasping. “We’re not going to be here for much longer.” 

“What?” Your jaw dropped, heart skipping a beat.

Dick sighed. “We’re leaving, going home.” He frowned when you pulled away from him. “Don’t fight me on this, sweetheart.” 

“We can’t leave.” You choked. The guilt ate you alive. “I caused this. I can’t leave them to deal with this. Tim already hates me, Damian too. I can’t do this to them.” 

“I’m not arguing with you on this.” Dick snarled in a way he never had to you before. “We’re going home.” His tone softened. “I have more to lose now.” He patted your arm, but you jerked away from him. “(Y/N).” You left the room, shocked beyond belief. Dick wasn’t who you thought he was. 

You stopped outside of the meeting room, listening in. “They said they will stop the siege if we turn Robin over to them,” Barbara said sharply. “Obviously, we’re not going to do that, but maybe we can set up a decoy.” 

“TT, no one is small enough to be convincing,” Damian said. A fist slammed into the table.

“Don’t even think about saying we just hand them over! Damn it!” Jason’s voice echoed throughout the cave. You quickly walked away. Your mind swirled, trying to think of a way to fix this. 

“You are grounded for life, you hear me,” Lois snapped at Jon as you passed them. Jon looked at the ground, not noticing you. 

Going upstairs to the manor, you exited into your father’s study only to be taken back by his giant self portrait on the wall. He hated it, but it was all part of the Brucie image. 

“Daddy, I broke everything.” You looked at his eyes, imaging the disappointment that would be there. “I know you said it wasn’t my fault, but everything is going to hell.” You took a deep breath. Your ribs on fire. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I killed Bane because Bane killed you.” 

Silence followed. You kept staring into his eyes. “What would you do?” Your heart broke. Deep down in your soul, you knew what he would do. Your father was selfless to the upmost degree. Closing your eyes, you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Okay. It’s time anyway.” You opened your eyes to meet your father’s painted ones. “I have to fix this.” You went over to the desk and got out some paper to write notes for everyone. A final goodbye.

***

It was easy to slip out of the manor. You wore civvies and a plain domino mask, not wanting the high tech suit to fall into the wrong hands. No one noticed you left. 

You rode a motorcycle into the city, zipping along. Everything was brighter, more clear than it ever been. You enjoyed everything for the last time. 

The Bane lookalike’s headquarters was at Wayne Tower. You parked your bike outside, looking up at it. It took several long moments before the Bane lookalike came out and stood in front of you. Up close, you knew instantly this wasn’t the Bane you killed. He was not tall enough and he didn’t have the grace of a street fighter that Bane had.

“Welcome Robin.” The Bane lookalike smiled. “Finally.” 

“Is the deal on?” You narrowed your eyes at him, getting off the bike. Entering the code, you rigged it to explode in two minutes. “If I hand myself over, you’ll leave Gotham alone?” 

The Bane lookalike studied you carefully. “Yes.” He gestured for you to come to him. You took a deep breath, your ribs burning. Slowly, you walked over to him. “Good child.” A sharp prick in your neck left you dizzy. You turned to see a ninja with a needle. Your legs gave out. The Bane lookalike caught you. “Now you will pay for what you’ve done.” The last thing you heard was his laughter.

[feralnumberfive]

The Rewatch Academy: Episode 3 of Season 1

“Extra Ordinary”

I am in no way a good analyst so my little analysis and speculations probably sound a bit goofy or pretty wild and probably mean nothing at all. Everything I put into this post about each episode is purely what I noticed or thought, whether it's funny or serious. I will be making jokes, so please just leave it at that (in no way am I trying to make fun of an actor and or character!) I am also in no way saying I noticed this stuff first. This is just what I noticed while rewatching these episodes

☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ 

1x01 | 1x02 | 1x03 | 1x04 |

☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂

☂ First off I’d like to say that this is one of my favorite episodes of this season. It’s just soooo good

☂ The second comic book in the window features the Televator from the actual comics, so that has to be canon in the show! Also at the time that that second comic came out, Five had already left since we don’t see him on the cover

☂ It’d be cool if they actually printed Vanya’s book for fans to read

☂ Well Diego isn’t wrong when he called Hazel and Cha Cha animals because of their masks

☂ Honestly I feel Vanya’s struggle with chair placement. I’ve fortunately had the luck of playing in all three clarinet chair placements, but 1st chair is challenging. I personally found each placement very fun to play, especially 3rd, and I hope Vanya does too! (why am I talking like she’s real)

☂ Hazel talks about people living ordinary lives, but didn’t he live like that too at one point? How does The Commission recruit people? If they get ordinary people, do they wipe their memories of their previous lives?

☂ “Let’s see’em get out from behind their desks, get their hands dirty for once.” Well Hazel, Five does indeed do this even though he only had a desk job for a day. Still, he got to experience both worlds

☂ My mind is blanking on this, but how did Five get that cut on his arm? Was it from a bullet wound at Gimbel’s? 

☂ Five must have a high pain tolerance to stitch his own wound but his bandaid probably wouldn’t stick due to the wet blood he slapped it over. Five sweetie you need a cotton pad and gauze for that one

☂ Wait, you’re telling me that The Umbrella Academy boys’ top uniform consists of a tank top, a white dress shirt, a tie, a sweater vest, and then the blazer? Someone asked Reginald what he wanted for the uniforms and he just said “Yes.”

☂ Five: *puts hands in pockets only to immediately take them out*

☂ Aidan almost sounds like he has an accent when he says “I'm done funding your drug habit.” 

☂ Five’s so soft talking to his wife

☂ No Leonard, your bread and butter is being a creep

☂ Also, he thinks wood carving is embarrassing? If someone came up to me and showed me something they carved out of wood I would be so jealous cause it’s such a neat form of art

☂ Leonard saying that he carved wood, and in that case wooden figures, when he was a kid is a slight foreshadow of all of his tampering with his Umbrella Academy figures. He can make wooden figures but he’s also destroyed a handful of the Hargreeves figures 

☂ “Never really did like The Beatles.” Well sir you’ve made me dislike you even more

☂ Vanya asking Allison if her siblings wanted her at the family meeting bugs me a bit. I absolutely get that she was literally left out of anything and everything that had to do with her siblings when she was younger, but Allison just asked her to come back home for a family meeting. Allison wouldn't have walked around looking for Vanya only to tell her that they were having a family meeting and that she wasn’t actually invited. Allison is including her in on a family meeting but Vanya is just in a bit of disbelief that she’s being included

☂ Ah yes, the only PTSD flashback for Five we see in the show! He looks so scared when he snaps out of it. I believe it was somehow triggered by the kids (I could be wrong) but do you think Five sometimes panics when he looks at himself in the mirror now since his body is the same age it was when he got stuck? Also it’s very subtle but when Luther opens the door, Five slightly jerks/flinches back. I wish we would see more of this in the show since it’s one of his major traumas

☂ “Does it matter? It’s Klaus.” Ouch! Well Five I hope you know that your siblings are somewhat thinking the same thing since they believe that you’ve lost your mind and are practically an old man crying “Apocalypse!” 

☂ Five does an ever so slight huff and smirk when Luther tells him that the meeting at the Academy is important. He finds it a little funny but so frustrating in his mind that Luther doesn’t know what’s truly important

☂ Also I love that Aidan has to turn to the side so that he can keep it together after Klaus talks about his chocolate pudding waxing. Either that or he’s portraying Five as being frustrated and in disbelief. Also this is the first time I’ve noticed that he says “Ay, ay ay...” 

☂ “We’re all you have. And you know it.” Oh Luther, you’re failing to see that that’s why he’s acting like this right now. He’s all frantic and crazed about trying to stop the apocalypse so that he can protect and save all that he has

☂ Five certainly is mad at Luther during his mini lecture. He’s clenching his jaw tightly and when he first speaks he hisses out the words through gritted teeth. He even called Luther by his number. He’s very impatient at this point and doesn’t care for Luther’s act of attempting to be a leader

☂ This is their first, and certainly not last, time watching Klaus go by in front of them doing something he shouldn’t be doing

☂ “You haven’t been home in a long time, Vanya.” Sir you were also just on the moon for four years. Yeah Vanya was away for a long time but Grace easily could have changed too during the four years you were gone

☂ How sweet, even though Five hasn’t really been home they want to include him in on the family vote :]

☂ I’ve noticed that in S1 that David really mumbles his lines. A lot

☂ I wish we got more flashbacks of the younger Umbrellas

☂ Diego my beloved mama’s boy ♥️

☂ It’s confusing as to which country TUA takes place in, but it’s really not supposed to be a specific one. It’s portrayed as being in North America, but you can see behind Cha Cha when she gets out of the car at the Academy the flag of the RAF, which Canada would have at a monument since it’s a Commonwealth country. At the same time though Delores came from Gimbels, which was a department store chain across the U.S

☂ The light above Five’s portrait is slightly crooked, which probably means no one has really been paying attention to it

☂ It makes me nervous that Klaus wipes bubbles onto his face. It looks like he got some in his eyes

☂ Ugh I love the whole scene of Hazel and Cha Cha walking around the Academy with “We’re Through” playing

☂ Diego: *has knives but instead chooses to punch and hit Hazel to try to make him let go of Allison”

☂ A rope-a-dope is a boxing tactic of pretending to be trapped against the ropes, goading an opponent to throw tiring ineffective punches. Diego sweetie Hazel wasn’t even trying to get you off of him all he was doing was choking Allison. The only person who got tired was probably you

☂ What’s the point in Diego yelling “Luther, go!” if he’s already going 💀

☂ Luther was there immediately when Hazel attacked Vanya. That means that Luther heard Vanya and was going to go get her to safety

☂ I will never stop signing my praise for the entirety of the “Sinnerman” fight scene(s). It gives me chills every single time. Easily one of the best scenes in all of the show

☂ Klaus must really have his music blasting if he can’t hear the gun shots right next to him

☂ I’ve always wondered if Allison actually registered in her mind that “The boy” is Five when Cha Cha says that’s who they’re looking for. Either she does realize that’s Five, is simply just angry that those two are looking for a boy, or registers in her mind that it’s Five through his superhero codename even though Cha Cha’s not referring to him in that way

☂ Diego is full on just standing in the background watching Allison get beat up by Cha Cha 🕴

☂ I love Diego’s little hand flap when he gets hit in the hand fighting Cha Cha

☂ Okay so I make everything about Five, but the whole Cha Cha fight scene with Allison and then Diego kind of scares me. Cha Cha and Hazel are both amazing assassins (they’re both probably right below Five) and neither Allison nor Diego could stop her by themselves. Could you imagine Five fighting one of his siblings? Especially with his spatial jumps? We already got a glimpse of his true combat skills when he fights Lila in S2. What a scary little old man

☂ “Vanya, get out of here!” Again, wanting to make sure that Vanya is safe and gets away. He even tried to go look for her

☂ Something I don’t really get about the Hazel and Luther fight is why doesn’t Luther just overpower him? Luther has super strength and on top of that he has giant muscles due to the gorilla DNA. Shouldn’t he be able to beat Hazel to a pulp? Maybe we have to consider that Hazel might have been altered by The Commission to be stronger and more durable, but they haven’t mentioned that in the show

☂ “Ah, you gotta cut down on that fast food, soldier.” What are you talking about Diego he literally just got off the moon two days ago aflksjfdk

☂ So Luther was too injured to jump out of the way of the chandelier but was able to push it up off of himself? 🤔

☂ I personally think that Luther’s body design adaptation for the show is really cool and that they gave him the perfect amount of bulk without making him look ridiculous

☂ This has been pointed out before, but cross-stitch foreshadowing, baby 

☂ Again, Diego my beloved mama’s boy ♥️

☂ Well at least Diego thought about Vanya dying before thinking about his siblings dying because of her. The latter is ironic!

☂ The clock above Luther’s mirror reads approximately 1:30 am. Hazel and Cha Cha didn’t want to wait until morning

☂ I wonder how different it would be if Five was present at the Academy when Hazel and Cha Cha attacked. He probably would have surrendered himself to them, but it's fun to entertain the idea that he would go apeshit if he knew that they were harming his family in order to find him

☂☂☂☂☂☂☂

Feel free to comment or reblog with things you have noticed too!

[hotpinkhoshi]

kiss it better | three

pairing: mark tuan x reader

genre: angst, smut, brother’s best friend au (sort of)

warnings: age gap (nine years), cursing, explicit sex, slow burn

summary: you were off limits for more reasons than mark could count. but everything changed for him the day you walked into his tattoo shop with those big innocent eyes and a laugh like his favorite song. he couldn’t. he wouldn’t. and yet…

a/n: hi everyone! thank you for being so patient with me for this chapter! if you follow me i’ve mentioned a few times that i’m struggling with writer’s block these days, but i’m pushing through it. i hope you guys like this chapter and if you have any questions or feelings pls don’t hesitate to let me know! 

✩ index here ✩

In his thirty years and some odd months of life, Mark had learned one unquestionable thing about himself.

He liked to be alone - in all senses of the word. 

In his experience, nothing good could come from allowing anyone past your emotional walls. If he was alone, he was safe. No one could hurt him without his permission. But he’d be lying if he said that having you around wasn’t like a sliver of sunshine peeking over those walls he’d built brick by brick. 

Milo loved you, and another thing he’d learned in all of his wise years was that if his dog liked you, then you were alright. The moment you walked through the door that first morning, Milo had been at your heels, sniffing and licking your shins affectionately. So, one point in your favor.

Mark slept in most mornings since he wasn’t needed at the shop until eleven, so by the time he woke up you’d been up for hours. You took it upon yourself to clean, organize, and revive the dullness of Mark’s apartment. Another point for you. 

You spent most evenings at the dingy diner you worked at until nearly midnight. When you came home, Mark’s usual spot was on the couch, with Milo on his chest and a de-stressing round of Overwatch on the TV. 

For the first few nights, you all but scurried past him to the bedroom to quickly change for bed and then he didn’t see you at all for the rest of the night. He could tell you were doing everything you could to practically be invisible - so different from the fiery girl that had rolled her eyes at him and called him an old man. 

“Y/N,” he called to you the next night when you arrived home from work. He caught you just before you went down the hallway. 

“Yeah?” you said meekly, turning on your heels to face him. 

Mark sat up further, arms holding Milo on his lap. Even your body language seemed like you wanted to disappear. Your arms were behind your back as you stood straight, hands clasped like a servant. 

“You know you don’t have to hide, right? You live here. You can watch TV or have a friend over, or whatever you want.” 

He could see the hesitation in your eyes, like you didn’t quite believe him. He just wanted you to feel at home; something unfortunate had clearly happened before you moved to Seoul. It wasn’t his place to pry or ask questions, but he wanted you to feel comfortable. 

“I… it’s okay, really.” You chewed at your lip, eyes on the floor. 

Mark sighed. “Y/N, just come sit and watch TV with me. No excuses.”

“I should really-”

Milo barked, high pitched and sudden. He was looking at you expectantly as if he was also joining in on the debate. 

“See?” Mark asked. “Milo wants you to hang out with us.”

Mark watched as your features softened bit by bit until you caved. “Okay. I just need to go shower and change, though.” You tugged at your plain black polo that you were forced to wear for work, a little baggy around your figure which made him wonder if the shirt was too big or if you’d lost weight. 

It wasn’t his business, not really, but he still felt this pull to you, towards taking care of you like your parents had done for him. They had saved his life and he’d always been so sure he would never be able to repay them - until now. 

Half an hour later, Mark looked up to find you coming out of your room, no longer in your stuffy uniform but in something more comfortable. Quite comfortable. A pair of shorts and a tank top that was loose on your shoulders, revealing your collarbone and smooth shoulders still glistening from your shower. 

“Hey, can you look at this?” you asked as you sat down next to him on the couch, angling your body so that he could see your tattoo. You slid the strap off your shoulder and pulled your damp hair to the side, revealing the intricate purple flower to him. 

Mark found his throat going a bit dry for some reason, seeing your bare skin like this, smelling the scent of your coconut shampoo. In his defense, it had been a long time since he’d seen this much skin in the flesh outside of the tattoo shop - female skin, to be specific. It was a shock to his system, that’s all. 

“It really itches. Is that normal? I can’t get a good look at it,” you told him, tucking your chin over your shoulder to look back at him. “I’ve been good with the ointment, I swear.”

Staring down at his own design, Mark brought a tentative hand up to your shoulder, tracing his index finger over the lines he’d created. It hadn’t healed completely yet, and it was beginning to shed the top layer, so he could still feel the ridges under the pad of his finger. 

“The itching is normal,” he said, after clearing his throat. “As the tissue heals, it’s trying to repair itself and prevent infection. So that causes itching, kind of like when you get a scab. If it continues for a few more days or starts to hurt, just tell me. It looks like it’s healing well, though.”

You nodded. Mark noticed you didn’t turn away yet, not until his eyes flicked up to meet yours. He had never been this close to you. Had you always had that freckle above your lip? And he’d never noticed the little scar above your eyebrow either, just a little nick that was probably from a tumble you’d taken as a child. 

And he realized with a start that you had been a child not so long ago. It may have been ten years ago, but he still vividly remembered your gangly limbs and braces from when you were twelve. You were Taehyung’s kid sister, and there was no good reason for him to be tracing over your shoulder and going dizzy from the smell of your shampoo. 

Milo saved the day, wedging himself between your bodies until he settled upon your lap, curling into a tiny fur ball. Mark laughed, grateful for the break in the tension. You giggled and sat back against the couch, cradling Milo in your arms. 

“So, what are we watching?”

— — —

And thus began a new routine. 

In the morning, you still woke up earlier than he did. You still made breakfast, except now you waited until just before Mark woke up so that he could start his day with the scent of eggs and bacon as it sizzled in the frying pan. And instead of leaving it on a plate to warm in the oven, you actually sat with him to eat. 

He learned a lot about you. There were still many blanks and question marks but slowly, you revealed little bits of yourself that almost made him feel like he knew you. Not kid you, real you. The woman you’d grown to be in the last several years. 

You were timid, as a whole, but he could see that part of you was slowly beginning to melt away. Once you warmed up to him, he found that you actually had a lot to say. 

Mostly about the food he ate. 

“Mark, that is not a lunch.”

You stood with your hands on your hips, watching with a frown as he grabbed a granola bar out of the pantry and tucked it under his arm along with the flimsy sandwich that he’d thrown together. He wasn’t picky, he just had simple tastes. When you grew up lucky to get two meals in your belly in a day, it made you realize food was just something to keep your body moving. 

“Huh? This is fine. It has nuts in it,” he told you, holding up the granola bar. “Nuts are healthy.”

By the way your lips pursed together, he could tell that you weren’t appeased by that. “At least take an apple with you, they’re fresh.”

Mark humored you at least, grabbing an apple before he was on his way. As he was grabbing his wallet and keys, he had to press his lips together to hide the half smile fighting its way onto his lips. 

— — —

You tried not to think about it. Really, you did. 

It was your day off, so after Mark left, you tackled your first load of laundry since moving in. It had been piling up ever since you were staying in the hostel, where half the laundry machines were almost always taken and the other half were out of order. 

Once you had thrown your clothes into the washer, you tidied up your room. It was a small room, one you suspected was actually meant for a child when the apartment was built - but it was enough for you. More than enough. 

It didn’t take long for you to clean up the room, putting away any clothes you hadn’t folded and put into your drawers just yet. It was silent in the apartment, leaving you only with your thoughts. 

You wondered what Mark was doing. It was nearing noon by now, and he’d mentioned he had two back to back appointments. It didn’t leave him with much time for a meal… not that he’d brought one with him, anyway. 

It wasn’t like you were doing anything. It wouldn’t hurt to throw something together for him quick, and run it down to the shop, would it? Honestly, it was the least you could do. He was allowing you to live in his apartment, rent free, not asking for a single thing in return. 

You found yourself in the kitchen, rifling through the cabinets to see what exactly he had on hand. Not much, you realized. From what you could tell, he lived mostly on take out and the occasional instant meal. Luckily, you found some vegetable broth and enough spices to scrounge together a stew. You’d bought some short ribs the other night, planning on making something delicious over the weekend as a thank you to Mark. 

You’d always loved cooking. Ever since you were a child, it was the one thing you could share with your mother. She wasn’t a cold woman, but she wasn’t one for many words. You never laid your head on her lap and confessed your worries while she played with your hair, or cried in her arms when you were upset. Instead, you cooked. 

If you came home from school, eyes wet with tears, your mother wouldn’t say a word - she would simply fire up the stove and list the ingredients for you to gather from the refrigerator. The only sound while you cooked besides that of the sizzling pans and bubbling broth was the humming - a soft, wordless tune that even now, you could hear in the back of your mind. 

You moved quickly, more confident in your steps than you had been in months. For just a moment, it felt like you were home again. 

— — —

Clutching the paper bag in your hands, you looked up when you heard the ‘ding’ of the bell above your head, signaling your entrance into the tattoo shop. It was noticeably more lively than it had been during your first visit - three young boys were sitting on the couch, flipping through a binder of tattoo designs and exclaiming over each one. 

In the back, you could hear the metallic buzz of a tattoo gun. Dahyun was at the counter with another customer, a girl your age deciding between several types of facial piercings. The former looked up as you entered, offering you a smile when she recognized you. 

“Ah, Y/N!” 

You returned her smile and gave a polite nod. “Hello,” you replied, unable to help but glance around, looking for Mark. It was as if he sensed your presence - no less than five seconds later, he was emerging from one of the rooms down the hallway and coming towards you. 

“Y/N?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed. 

Mark ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his face. He was in the same outfit you’d seen him in earlier, a black top and jeans with a blue flannel. Except now he’d taken the flannel off, revealing the toned, tattooed skin of his biceps underneath. 

You tore your eyes away from his muscular arms and stared up at him, swallowing the dryness from your mouth. “Hi.” 

“What’s that?” he asked, jutting his chin towards the bag in your hand. 

You had to glance down to remember what you’d brought with you. Sticking your arms out towards him, you pressed the bag into Mark’s chest. 

“Food,” you answered simply.

Mark rolled his eyes, though you noticed the smile tugging at his lips. “Ah, you really didn’t have to. I told you, I’m alright.” 

You huffed. “It’s real food, not granola or whatever greasy meal you were planning on ordering. Short rib soup. And rice.” 

Mark took the bag, unfolding the top to investigate its contents. He blinked a few times before looking up at you, an unfamiliar expression on his face. Almost like he was touched, but you couldn’t quite understand why. It was just food. 

“I was going to make it anyway, this weekend-” you started. 

“Thank you,” Mark told you, voice surprisingly sincere. It made you feel as if there was something in between the lines, something you couldn’t put your finger on. “Is it… your mom’s recipe?” 

He asked the question slowly, carefully. Mark was a smart man, you knew he’d picked up on the tension between yourself and your family, yet he never pushed. He avoided the topic, and never pried when you mentioned them off hand. 

You swallowed thickly, then nodded. “Yeah.” 

Mark’s face softened as he looked at you. Just as he took a step closer, Dahyun’s voice broke the bubble that had apparently been surrounding the two of you for the last few minutes. 

“Hey, what are you doing tonight?” 

Dahyun was looking between the two of you with a very interested stare, a knowing smirk on her lips as she ignored the customer she’d been helping. 

“Nothing, why?” you asked, a bit hesitant. You were off work, and Yerin was pulling an extra shift at the restaurant tonight. She was your only friend, so it left your night wide open. 

“Well,” Dahyun said, leaning her chin upon her hand. “We were going to go bowling tonight with a couple of other people, and we need an even number. If you came, it’d be perfect. Yugyeom’s girlfriend bailed, something lame about a massive nursing exam tomorrow.” 

Mark sighed. “You really don’t have to - it’s fine.” 

“I’m really bad at bowling…” you said, already preparing your polite rejection. 

“So is everyone else,” Dahyun replied. “I mean, Mark’s good. And Jackson pretends he is. But mostly we just get drunk and make fun of ourselves.” 

Your instincts were telling you to say no. Your social circle, even at home, had been very small. Large group settings weren’t your thing, especially with strangers. But you’d decided as soon as you moved to the city that you would try every new thing you could. 

“You should come,” Mark offered. When you looked at him, he was chewing at his lip, but he offered you an encouraging smile nonetheless. “If only for the entertainment of watching Jackson lose his mind every time he bowls a gutter ball.” 

This was what you’d come here for. You’d left your life behind, everything you knew, so that you could live. You couldn’t do that if you refused to step outside of your comfort zone any time an opportunity presented itself. 

Besides, if you could get a tattoo, surely you could handle a little drunk bowling. 

“Okay,” you finally agreed. “I’ll be there.” 

[joezworld]

Memories

A continuation of this

January 29, 2020

“Well, despite my extensive protestations, I cannot find any reason whatsoever to keep you here.” Anton, the head of the Crovan’s Gate diesel shop, said as he shut his toolbox with a petulant clang.

55 010 and Wendell looked at each other with no small amount of relief. Since the events of Christmas, the works had been beside themselves in trying to find a cause of 010′s existence as well as fixing the damage to Wendell’s chassis from when he fell off the jack stands on Christmas day.

A naturally superstitious man, Anton had refused to clear 010 for traffic until he went over her with a fine-toothed comb. This was a process that had taken over a month, and had insulted Wendell more than it had 010, as the Class 47 had believed that Anton was looking for a way to keep 010 out of traffic (he was), while the Deltic - who hadn’t been properly serviced since the late 1970′s - found the whole process very therapeutic.

All that being said, the pair were anxious to get out of the sheds and onto the main line once again - Wendell wanted to stretch his wheels properly, while 010 was deeply excited to see the bright future of the year 2020.

Anton left, shutting off the lights behind him. The two engines would have kept talking, but they’d honestly exhausted their conversational reserves after being together for over a month, so instead they fell asleep, dreaming of the world outside the sheds...

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

December 26, 1981

Doncaster Station, Doncaster, South Yorkshire, England

55 010 sleepily opened one eye to the sounds of an argument. Some men were clustered around the Class 47 that was on the siding. They sounded like they were trying to figure out what to do with her.

One group was saying that she should be shoved onto the out of use lines, while the others were saying that doing that would take too long. The 47 seemed to be stuck in the middle, unsure of which side to take. At one point, he opened his mouth to agree with the shunting plan, before he stopped. A flurry of emotions passed across his face in an instant, before he shut his mouth, glared at the men he’d been about to agree with, and put his wheel down.

“I’m not going to miss my path and spend all day in passing loops just to put her away - look at all the switches you’d have to hand throw! It’d take ages!”

With that the other men now held a majority, so without much more discussion the 47 was coupled up to her, and the train set off for parts unknown.

-

“Where are we going?” She’d sleepily asked the 47 - who’d introduced himself as number 556 - as they rattled across the Pennines.  

“Dunno,” He’d said quietly - they were coupled face-to-face, and she felt vaguely bad that he was driving backwards on her behalf. “Some coach depot I’ve never heard of - Titfield or Tidmouse or something like that.”

-

December 27, 1981

Tidmouth Station, Tidmouth, Tidmouth and South Haltraughshire, Sodor

47 556 and 55 010 eventually made it across the bridge and onto the Island very early on the morning of the 27th. It was a quiet little Island railway out here in the west country, and they met few trains on their way by.

A class 86 shouted hello from an electrified branch.

A old Hymek, somehow still in service, honked amiably as he passed with a goods train.

Even an old blue steam engine clattered by on a rail tour. This one looked at them funny, but the expected malice wasn’t there, merely confusion at the unusual double-header.

Eventually arriving at the big station at the end of the line, the two engines were met by a older gentleman in a top hat.

He introduced himself as the Controller for the region, and asked what they were doing here.

As 556 explained why he was also carrying a broken-down Deltic on his train, 010′s attention wandered to the rest of the station.

It was a beautiful design, like King's Cross, or Euston before they ruined it, but the roof of the trainshed was simply covered in soot - it was almost like they hadn’t cleaned it since before the end of steam.

Then there was a whistle from outside the platforms.

Both diesels goggled as a tender engine, painted an almost gaudy shade of bright blue with red lining, rolled into the station with a train of teak coaches.

At almost the same time, two more whistles were heard, and a train of GWR autocoaches complete with a Pannier Tank in the middle rattled in alongside a green saddle tank engine of indeterminate origin towing a pair of ancient compartment coaches.

“What is that?” 010 asked, shocked to see clean and well-maintained steam this far into the 1980s.

“Those are Gordon, Duck, and Percy.” Said the controller kindly.

“Are they all on rail tours?” Asked 556, causing the controller to laugh.

“No! They’re my engines! They work every day because they’re still useful.”

Neither diesel said anything. 556 was shocked that BR was allowing this to happen, but 010 suddenly felt a surge of hope. If they were still running steam here, maybe she could convince 556 to leave her here on his way home...

Something must have shown in her face - or maybe even 556′s, because the next thing the controller said was: “If I may, my railroad is currently experiencing a locomotive shortage. We have to keep relying on the other railway for temporary engines, but they aren’t the most reliable. Would either of you happen to know where I could find some strong, hardworking locomotives?”

-

They stabled 556 and 010 in the sheds with the steam engines over the New Year’s holiday. It was an almost out-of-body experience for 010, who was used to the cold and unfriendly atmosphere of Finsbury Park TMD, and had no idea how to deal with engines who, when told to treat her nicely, immediately made sure to include her in their singing of  Auld Lang Syne.

A few weeks later, both engines had been successfully outshopped at the massive works complex in the west of the island. 556 had required little repairs, but had rolled out with a new coat of paint and a new name, Wendell, chosen after a friendly dog that hung around the works.

It took longer for 010. She had many, many worn out parts that required removal and repair, and her engines needed a full overhaul. During this time period, some of the female welding staff had spoken to her about needing to choose a name before one was chosen for her - apparently the Hymek she’d seen was named Bear, and she didn’t want that did she?

After a few days with books on baby names, a set of brass nameplates were bolted to her sides - they read “DAPHNE” in big letters.

While she was there, the workmen asked her what she wanted to be painted. When her request for a new coat of Rail Blue was met with groans, the men explained that they were bored of normal paint schemes and would paint anything she wanted.

-

Two weeks later she rolled out of the works feeling like a new engine. Her motors fired on all cylinders, her grease and oil was fresh, and her new paint sparkled in the sun. She’d always liked how Deltic - The Deltic, DP1 - had looked, and the men had grinned at each other when she told them about how the irritable prototype had spent most of his free time whining about not having stripes that went the whole way down his body.

Daphne found out why when she rolled into Tidmouth Shed that night. There was another express diesel on this island - a big Class 46 - and the similarities were striking. Both had similar designs, and had non-standard paint - the 46 was red, she was blue - with gold stripes down their sides. The 46 was named Delta - a very similar sounding name, and when she opened her eyes and took in Daphne and her nameplates, it took her all of two seconds to begin smiling broadly.

“You look like you could be my big sister!” She said.

Daphne, expecting some sort of hostility, wasn’t sure how to respond. “Well, all of my sisters are dead, so it would be nice to have one again.”

She began to backpedal when the 46 stopped smiling, but the look she gave was thoughtful instead of hurt. “Come to think of it, all of mine are probably dead too. Shall we make our own family then?”

And so it was.

-

A few weeks later, Daphne and Wendell finally met all but one of the other diesels on the region - a Class 28 named BoCo, Bear the Hymek, and Daisy, a deeply customized Class 101. According to Daisy, there was also a Class 01 named Mavis who worked on a private quarry at the end of her branch line.

“You know,” Daisy said after Delta finished introducing everyone. “Aside from having one of each power rating, I think all of us but Wendell would have been scrapped by now if we were on the mainland. I think we should do something to celebrate the fact that we aren’t dead.”

The other diesels agreed - word had already spread about Delta and Daphne’s nontraditional sisterhood - and they agreed to form a club: the Non-Standard Survivors Society.

“But, I’m not non-standard?” Wendell asked as they dispersed. “Am I?”

“No, but you are really cute,” Delta joked. “So we’ll give you a pass.”

Daisy chuckled as she headed for the platform. “I’ll have to remember that when I tell Mavis about this club she’s in now.”

Daphne was confused. “Cute? What do you mean cute?”

Wendell was similarly puzzled.

Bear and Delta looked at each other meaningfully. “You two have so much to learn...” The type 3 said as he backed into the station.

That didn’t make Daphne or Wendell feel any better!

-

1983  

“You know,” Said Delta one morning in the newly-refurbished diesel shed. “We should have nicknames for the society.”

“My name is Bear,” Said Bear. “yours is a Greek letter. How much more nickname-y can we get?”

“The rest of us should get nicknames then. And I feel like I could get a great nickname, like Tiger Stripes!”

Daphne giggled as Bear growled under his breath. “And why, pray tell, are you Tiger Stripes?”

“Because I’m fierce like a tiger! And I have stripes like a tiger does! It also matches the animal theme we’re going with.” Either Delta could think at a mile a minute, or she had been considering these nicknames for a lot longer than she let on.

“A tiger does not have stripes like you do.”

“How do you know?”

“My name is Bear. I know about animals. I have to.”

“I figured it was so that we could be ‘Lions, Tigers, and Bears, oh my!’” Quipped Daphne. “I guess that makes me Lion Stripes then.”

Delta’s sputtering and spluttering made it very clear that she hadn’t thought of that, and Bear and Daphne roared with laughter.

-

Later that year

The Thin Clergyman’s son made another trip to Sodor to research for his next books.

Daphne, as an express engine, had been rather removed from the strife among the rank-and-file engines caused by the Thin Clergyman’s books, and had no idea why Delta wanted to hide from him.

After a “short” explanation that took almost an hour, Daphne was now furious.

While she did help Delta by hiding her deep inside an old carriage shed, she did not stay there herself; She was an engine of action, and would deal with the problem directly.

Two days later, the Clergyman’s Son approached her to ask her some questions.

“If my sister shows up in one of your books you won’t survive to write another.” She said darkly to the author, who retreated immediately! 

The Clergyman’s Son’s next book focused about Diesels and James. Much to everyone’s amusement, Delta was nowhere to be found in it, despite her being being the biggest reason why James was more accepting of diesels.

Unsurprisingly, Daphne did not appear either, and everyone wondered if the story of the rude diesel who crashed through a wall was based on her in some way. Delta, on the other wheel, stayed uncharacteristically silent!

Wendell was most offended that they hadn’t even bothered to include his name in the book, and refused to speak to the Clergyman’s Son again!

-

1985

Bear and Wendell had both gotten very scruffy looking after several years without a repaint, and went into the works with the intent of coming out looking the same as they had before.

They had reckoned without Delta and Daphne, who had very kindly asked the paint shop workers to be imaginative on their friends.

Bear had rolled out first, looking furious about the deception, but rather pleased with his paint. The men had been inspired by some American locomotives, and he rolled out of the shop in a dark shade of green with metallic gold stripes down his sides.  Any lingering discontent he had felt lasted until Henry saw him for the first time and dragged him away behind a shed without a word. Daphne tried to ask what was going on, but Delta, laughing too hard to even speak, had pulled her away to the station.

Wendell came out a few days later. Whatever the men had originally tried hadn’t been to his liking, he explained, and he’d asked them to try a different design from the same book that they’d pulled Bear’s paint scheme from. When he came into the sheds painted a glossy black with grey and white stripes, Daphne felt both of her crankshafts do a flip-flop.

Delta took one look at the slack jawed expression on her adopted sister’s face and sighed deeply. How had Jamie seen this coming before she did?

It took all of a week for Bear and Wendell to have nicknames foisted on them by the express sisters - Ursus and Cobra stripes, respectively. Delta explained that she liked the predatory animal theme that went with Lion and Tiger, while Daphne innocently pointed out that it had absolutely nothing to do with how much it annoyed Bear.

The nicknames did eventually stick though, in no small part because Henry had taken one look at how irritated Bear was and started calling him Ursus!

It took a month after that for Tiger Stripes to take pity on her sister and the piteous faces she made when she thought Wendell wasn’t looking, pulled a Flying Scotsman, and told her and Cobra Stripes exactly what those feelings meant. She was very unsurprised when Wendell revealed that he was also growing attracted to Daphne.

Henry and James both joked that one day, Bear or Delta would put one of them through a wall, but three weeks later, Daphne managed to put herself and Wendell into the parking lot behind Barrow Sheds.

-

1990

After realizing that Mavis and Daisy both technically had stripes painted on them (making them Wasp and Cougar stripes), the other diesels began to seriously peer pressure BoCo into getting repainted with stripes so they could complete the set.

He’d held out for many years, but after Daphne took a special train to the clay pits, there was suddenly pressure from within the Brendam Branch as well, and he folded like a house of cards in less than a week.

When he came back from the works, he was now green, gold, and white, but also red, if you counted the angry blush on his face.

“I asked them for Southern Railway Green with a gold stripe.” He seethed. “But clearly there was a misunderstanding.”

The howling from his compatriots was earthshakingly unsympathetic, but nobody could deny that he looked striking, and he was quickly dubbed Jaguar Stripes, even though - as he and Bear were quick to note - he did not look like a Jaguar at all.

-

1995

James asked Delta to marry him. The other engines were overjoyed, even if they BoCo and Daisy needed some catching up on how exactly that was possible.

Daisy groaned. “Mavis and I are going to have to have a talk, aren’t we?”

The other diesels - which by this point included James and Henry in an honorary capacity - hadn’t quite processed that when BoCo announced that if he was being honest, he and Edward were “so emotionally codependent that we’ve probably been married for twenty years without realizing it.”

Henry couldn’t take it any more and screeched with laughter at the conversational disparities - he’d just left the steam sheds, where the engines were still unaware that London had multiple termini, and were therefore having a rousing argument as to whether the impending fall of British Rail meant that London’s terminus station would magically return to being King’s Cross or Paddington instead of the current Euston.

-

1996

James and Delta were wed in a quiet ceremony behind the diesel shed - Siobhan, her fiancé Declan, and all the members of the “Non Standard Society” - including Mavis, who traveled down specially for the event - were present, with Daphne and Henry acting as bridesmaid and best man.

By design, the engines had arrived in pairs, with only BoCo “going stag”, as he hadn’t yet told Edward how he felt. The officiant - a kind looking man from the Arlesburgh judiciary - had taken one look at the rest of them and asked if he should be preparing for any other weddings in the near future. Daphne and Wendell were the only ones to say yes instinctively. (Much to each other’s surprise!) When Daphne looked over at Bear and Henry, they said with no small amount of irritation that it wasn’t legal yet for them to be wed. Similar grumblings then erupted from Mavis and Daisy, which briefly made the quiet ceremony very loud, as none of the other engines had been aware that either diesel was dating!

-

2000

Dull yellow smoke billowed out of Percy’s funnel as the men did a pressure test. Before Daphne or Wendell could do anything, they were enveloped by the choking cloud. 

Daphne shut her eyes to avoid getting any of the strange metallic soot in her eyes, and when she opened them again, the works looked... different somehow. 

A few of the new inspection pits were gone, while the diesel shop building had one less door than it should. 

Daphne opened her mouth to ask Wendell what was going on, and then stopped dead in her tracks when a workman ran right through her. 

Looking down at herself, she appeared to be fully transparent, floating above the rails like a ghost of Deltics past. 

“Who are you?!” Wendell squeaked. 

Daphne looked at him for a moment. His paint was a different colour than it had been a minute ago - Rail Blue instead of Black and Gray - and he seemed like he didn’t remember her at all. 

“Cobra,” She said, not even thinking that this was not the time for nicknames. “It’s me, Lion. You know me.”

“I know exactly who you are.” He said frantically. “You’re the ghost of the engine I killed! It’s not Christmas! Begone with you!”

“What?!” Daphne was horrified. “Wendell, what on Earth are you talking about!? Nobody’s dead! How can you say that?!”

“Don’t you overreact here Lion!” Wendell snapped. “I should be the one screaming! Ignoring whatever it is you are, there are dinosaurs eating the ballast! That water tower has a face!”

Daphne suddenly understood that there was something in the yellow smoke that was making both of them see things that weren’t there. With that in mind, she spent most of the next few hours keeping Wendell calm until the hallucinations stopped, and he turned back into the black and gray diesel she’d fallen in love with.  

A few weeks later, and Daphne asked Wendell about what he saw in the yellow smoke. 

“I saw a bunch of brightly coloured horses singing about friendship. Why?”

“Just curious...” Daphne said as she realized that maybe her hallucinations had been much stronger than she thought!

-

Later That Same Year

A new high speed trainset arrived on Sodor. Their names were Pip and Emma.

They had been on the island once before in the early 80′s, but somehow none of the diesels had met them in anything other than passing.

After three nights on Sodor, Delta declared that she liked them and was “keeping them”, giving them no choice in the matter on the subject of express engine sisterhood. Daphne explained that Delta was less of an engine and more of a force of nature, to which Emma responded that she and Pip were ‘the Dragon Sisters’ and could take care of themselves.

Both Dragons realized that they had even less of a choice when Daphne's face lit up like a Christmas tree upon hearing that!

Learning that the duo already had animal-themed nicknames for themselves made it much easier for Lion and Tiger Stripes to press-gang their new sisters into the “Non-Standard Survivors Society”, and even easier to get them painted into the old Intercity “Swallow” paint scheme.

Even for express locomotives, the speed at which the two went from Pip and Emma to Dragon Stripes was remarkable.

-

Even later that same year

Donald screamed all the way to the Little Western, unable to shake the image of a unified force of Red Eyed, Soul Stealing, Mind Controlling, Memory Altering, Diesel Electric Monsters!

-

2001

Pip and Emma taught the other diesels how to breathe fire.

Being the sort of sisters that they were, Daphne, Emma, Pip, and Delta soon began hosting competitions to see who could shoot fire the furthest. This did not help Oliver’s mental state at all.

-

2004

The United Kingdom allowed same-sex couples to enter into a “civil union” on the 14th of March. The engines knew it wasn’t actual marriage, but it was more than they’d been allowed before, and Daisy and Mavis, and Henry and Bear were wed by The Magistrate that night, with Delta and James acting as best man and bride/groomsmaid in all the ceremonies.

Immediately afterwards, Daphne and Wendell - who had agreed not to be wed until their friends could - tied the knot as well.

The rest of the Society (BoCo, Pip, Emma) and Siobhan and her husband Declan cheered until they were hoarse.

The next morning, Stephen and Richard Hatt, as well as most of the steam engines, could not understand how every James, Henry, and every diesel on the island were somehow exhausted and happy at the same time.

-

Later that same year

Flying Scotsman showed up on what would turn out to be his last railtour before his overhaul. Not realizing what he’d started way back in 1979, he jokingly asked if Henry and Bear had ever done anything in regards to their relationship.

When they and seemingly every other diesel on the Island regaled him with wedding stories he almost burst a boiler tube!

-

2007

Pip managed to convince the paint shop staff to paint huge fire breathing dragons on herself and Emma for Christmas.

Within two weeks all the other diesels had their own respective animals painted somewhere on their bodies.

After a while, they all started to notice that the animals seemed to be in different places on different days... Daphne's Lion and Wendell's Cobra would even swap locomotives sometimes - not that they'd ever admit it!

After an even longer while they noticed that an identical Bear and Tiger had ended up on Henry and James - despite neither of them having gone near the paint shop in months!

Richard Hatt has asked why this happened, but nobody has yet said anything close to the truth. It may be because they don’t know themselves...

-

2017

A certain Class 5 diesel convinced her driver to hang some mistletoe over the turntable.

Everything was going well until Donald chuffed in unexpectedly and saw Henry and Bear under it.

A lot of explaining was required.

-

2020

Wendell loved Christmas, and had spent every year since the early 90′s covered in lights and pulling the N.W.R.’s holiday train. In more recent years Daphne also joined him, and they usually spent a few days in the first or second week of January getting the lights removed and their paint touched up.

This year, heavy traffic in early January meant that they couldn’t make it to the works until late on the 28th, and spent all of the next day getting de-lighted and touched up. They went to sleep eager to go to work the next morning...

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

January 30, 2020

Wendell woke up with a start. What a dream that was! It felt so realistic, and...

55 010 was staring at him, eyes wide to the point of bulging out of her face.

“What?” He asked, trying to shake off the feeling of strangeness - in his dream, they were married, but engines can’t get married - can they?

“Wendell,” She said quietly, her voice shaking. “I just had the most amazing dream.”

“Really?” Maybe they could compare notes, Wendell wondered. Maybe in her dream they were all brightly coloured crime fighting action heroes.

“We were married.” She said after a moment.

Wendell felt the world go fuzzy around him. The last thirty-nine years of his life flashed before his eyes in some sort of visual stereo - one side sad and depressed, the other side...

“Daphne?!” He gasped as he returned to reality.

That was all the confirmation the big Deltic needed. “It wasn’t a dream!” She cried joyously.

“It was,” Wendell said, his brows furrowing under a sudden and massive headache. “But it wasn’t. How can it be both?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care.” Daphne/55 010 said, her voice laced with quiet joy. “I have sisters. I have a family. I have you.”

Wendell could feel his mind short circuiting. On one wheel, he was in his shed in the works. It was his home. He’d lived here since the 80′s!

On the other... He lived at the diesel shed in Tidmouth. He’d asked The Fat Controller in 1982 if he could stay there so he could be with his friends - with Daphne. His home was the road between Daphne and Bear in Tidmouth.

Bear. His eyes widened as he thought of the Hymek.

He didn’t know the diesel that well, but - he did. Did he? Was this all a shared dream between him and 010, or was Bear really Henry’s husband? Were Delta and James married? What about Daisy and Mavis? Was 010 actually Daphne? He didn’t know what was real or not anymore.

He looked back at Daphne/010. As much as he wanted to believe it was true - that he really did have thirty years of family and love - but as he looked over at the Deltic and down at his own buffers, he didn’t see the blue-and-gold or black-and-gray of Lion and Cobra Stripes, just the basic Rail Blue of two anonymous British Diesels.

Then...

As he looked at 010/Daphne, her dark blue paint started to muddy and shift before his eyes. Starting at her buffers and moving backwards, a ripple of colour began to work its way across her body. The rail blue and yellow warning panels faded away, leaving a trail of sky blue paint and metallic gold stripes. A roaring lion, standing atop a crushed double arrow, appeared below her cab window.

He would have watched the transformation in more detail, but a sudden and intense itching caused his him to look down at his own body. Where there had previously been blue and yellow was now a dark gloss black with grey stripes. The very hint of a snake's tail could be seen stretching around the corner of his bodywork.

It was over almost as quickly as it begun, and when the two diesels looked back up at each other, they didn’t see Wendell and 55 010, they saw:

“Lion?”

“Cobra?”

---

The drivers who went to take Wendell and 010 back to the works had no idea why the diesels were crying like babies, but assumed it was due to the outrageous paint schemes the works had elected to cover them in. They were in no mood for shenanigans, and coupled up the engines and left before the works staff could notice and ask questions.  

In a remarkable parallel to the 1981 of their dreams, Wendell hauled an unpowered Daphne and a rake of coaches from the works down to Tidmouth in the predawn light of winter. They passed Abbey, who shouted hello from the electric branch, and passed Edward, who stared at their paint in utter bafflement.

The train arrived in Tidmouth, but there was no Fat Controller to meet them that day, so they left the coaches at the platform for The Limited and departed for the diesel shed.

Wendell felt another headache come on as he rolled up to the concrete-and-steel structure. With only Bear and Delta permanently in Tidmouth, The Fat Controller hadn’t built the shed until Pip and Emma arrived in 2000, knocking down an old brick warehouse to do so.

But, with Daphne and Wendell, that old brick building had been spruced up and expanded in the 80′s. Looking at the building, Wendell felt woozy as his mind layered an image of the cozy warehouse overtop of the sleek shed.

“There’s supposed to be windows there.” Daphne whispered as she looked at the blank wall of the shed.  

Wendell grimaced as he looked up. That blank concrete wall was in no way special, but at the same time, the light that streamed in through bank of windows set into the brick had been the source of many arguments - nobody wanted to be the one in that road because the morning sun was at just the right angle to shine into the eyes of whoever was parked under them.

But that wall was blank specifically because the architects had realized that - in 1999.

But it was an old shed - from the 1920's, right?

Wendell grimaced and hoped that his mind would pick something and stick to it.

Arriving in the shed to the sound of Genesis drifting through the doors - dream or no dream, Henry had apparently still infected them with his prog rock obsession - the men first shunted Daphne onto one road before putting Wendell next to her,  powering off off his motor and scarpering to the staff canteen and its coffee maker, leaving the two diesels outside.

Their presence was noticed after Bear’s voice drifted out of the shed with a command to turn off the voice activated speaker. In the silence, the quiet pinging of Wendell’s cooling engine was heard, drawing eyes to the outside.

“What the hell are you painted like that for?” Called BoCo from inside the sheds. “And who are you?” He asked Daphne.

“Hi Jaguar, it’s so good to see you.” Daphne evidently did not care that BoCo had no idea who she was.

“Good morning!” Said Wendell, trying to figure out how on earth he was going to explain this. “We had a doozy of a dream last night!”

The other diesels poked out of the doors to gawp at the oddly-painted engines.

Delta in particular looked like she wanted to say something, looking down at her own stripes before looking at Daphne’s.

“You look like you could be my big... sister...” She didn’t make it all the way through her sentence before her jaw dropped and her eyes glazed over. Wendell imagined that this is what he looked like earlier that morning.

“You...” Delta was on the verge of tears. “You were at my wedding. You all were!”

“Your what? You know this engine?” BoCo was more confused than ever.

“Yes! And so do you! We all do!”

“Delta, I have never... met...” BoCo stared in shock after his eyes glazed over for a long moment. “Oh soot and oil... Daphne?!”

And so it went through the other engines, who all suddenly remembered.

“How?!” Bear eventually managed. “How did this - what?”

He was cut off as his paint rippled and changed, an effect that quickly rolled across the other engines. From within the shed, Emma and Pip swore loudly as their NWExpress livery roiled and shifted from blue and yellow to black, white and red. BoCo grimaced as his BR green suddenly became a lot more American. Bear grinned unconsciously, suddenly remembering how well Henry had taken his stripes last time.

Within a few minutes, the disparate group of diesels were gone, replaced with the members of the Non-Standard Survivors Society.

Daphne, who watching this happen with no small amount of glee, squealed with happiness.

-

In the station, Henry and Daisy were congratulating Richard Hatt on his recent promotion to assistant controller of the railway. As they spoke, both engines kept one eye on the diesel shed in the distance - two new diesels in some absolutely ludicrous paint schemes were parked in front of the diesel shed, and a commotion was quietly audible, much to their consternation.

Richard eventually took notice of the new engines as well, and took a long moment to try and figure out why the original Deltic prototype was on his railway. A gasp drew him back to the engines on the platform, both of whom now looked like they’d seen a ghost.

“Are you all right?” he asked with concern.

Daisy, who was wide eyed and shaking on her suspension, was the first to react. “I’m married!” She shrieked before setting off for the junction almost before her signal dropped. Richard wasn’t sure, but as Daisy left, frantically blowing her horn to the diesels in the yard as she did so, she seemed to shimmer in the sun for a moment.

“What?” Richard asked. He thought he’d heard what Daisy had said, but was really hoping that he’d misheard her. He looked back at Henry, suddenly forced to remember that he had to give the engine a day off every March.

“I don’t think I could explain that to you if I had all day.” Henry said quietly.

Richard wanted to investigate the sudden faraway look in the engine’s eyes, but remembered what usually happened to him when he asked the engines personal questions.

As he left the platform, he noted with some amount of confusion the elegantly-painted bear that was on Henry’s cab side. It definitely hadn’t been there when he walked up.

He turned around to ask Henry about it, when James raced into the station, a wild look in his eyes.

“Henry!” He demanded. “What just happened to me?!” The pouncing Tiger painted on the side of his tender gave some idea as to the “what” he was talking about.

Richard turned and fled for his office. The pub didn’t open until noon, and he was not about to deal with any new earthshattering revelations sober.

[rpmemesbyarat]

As someone in the Marvel RPC, I see a lot of “my character was kidnapped/created in a lab and turned into the perfect weapon” or “my character was captured by scientists because she was an alien/supernatural creature/etc and they wanted to study her” and inevitably, both involve a lot of gratutitous torture. The key word being “gratuitous”. Either due to wanting drama or being misinformed by popular media depictions of such things (Bucky Barnes, Laura Kinney, etc) the general assumption of fandom seems to be that scientists are basically sadists and that “experiments” are little more than exercises in how to cause their character the most pain possible. The thing is though, a lot of the reasoning for all this is. . . bad. And while canon ---be it Marvel or something else-- may do that, I would also like to discuss more realistic options and point out a few general mistaken assumptions or things people don’t tend to think of. - If a bunch of scientists are trying to create an augmented supersoldier, “perfect life form”, or whatever, that’s not an experiment, that’s a PROJECT. There is a big difference between the two. - Who/what is your character being created or augmented to fight? No one is gonna spend the time/money/effort to make a supersoldier just to have one around for fun. The enemy they are supposed to face or job they are supposed to do is going to influence EVERYTHING about the abilities they’re given and how they are “designed” not to mention how much independent thinking it’s practical to give them. For instance, for some jobs, being able to think and make decisions on their own will be a must, and that’s a risk. For others, there’s really no need to leave their free will intact if you can avoid it. Someone being “built” for espionage will be much different than someone being designed as a living tank. Likewise if someone is going to be sent into a desert environment versus expected to go for long periods underwater, and so on. Knowing what they’re designed to be going up against is CRUCIAL. - Why are living weapons the best option to fight this thing? Because generally speaking, there can be a lot more disadvantages to those than to guns and guided missiles and androids and shit. What about this enemy required a lving sentient supersoldier instead? - If a specimen is rare or valuable, it’s unlikely that it’s going to be dissected or otherwise treated in a way that will deliberately damage it. Your characters might FEAR that if they’re found the men in white coats might “cut them up” but this is actually unlikely. If scientists are trying to learn about something and it’s not a thing they can easily replace, they’re going to try to do so WITHOUT destroying or damaging it. The reason that real-life lab animals are treated so callously is because there’s lots of them, and we already know a lot about how they all work. When a scientist dissects a lab mouse, they’re not losing anything when it dies. If the first alien on Earth dies, or some super-soldier they worked really hard to create dies, they’re losing either a lot of potential information that can’t be gained anywhere else, or something they worked really hard to create and won’t be able to do again without a lot of time or effort. They are going to want to avoid that, and in this age of ultrasounds, X-Rays, and other non-invasive technology, that’s very easily done, especially in a setting where they probably have higher level tech than the real world if they’re creating super-soldiers and such in the first place. And they definitely have NO REASON to want to cut a specimen up ALIVE. - If their goal is to study a person or creature, such as the aforementioned alien, or a mermaid, or whatever else, they actually will probably want to avoid causing it stress. Stress causes behavioral changes as well as physiological ones, and if this is a never-before-seen or rarely-examined species/person, scientists will want to examine them in their default state first. Once they’ve learned everything they can about them in their “normal” state, then, yes, they may begin to deliberately induce stress to study what changes. However, they’re still likely to try to avoid damaging the specimen or inducing ill-health in it (which prolonged and/or serious stress can do) Again, the reason that regular lab animals get treated like their lives don’t matter is because THEY DON’T. Lab mice, dogs, etc., are just models for which to study humans most of the time and have well-documented behavior and physiology, they’re not rare or unknown creatures. So the approach is completely different. A literal or figurative unicorn would not be treated like that. - Likewise, if this specimen is something that was created (or augmented from an existing animal/person) it’s unlikely that the scientists are going to torture them, either for fun or through painful “tests”. Again, they don’t want to damage their hard work, either through physically wrecking them or through reducing them to a useless traumatized heap. It doesn’t matter if the scientists are mean cruel people without a bit of kindness or empathy, it’s impractical. If this being was created for a purpose, fucking it up (or turning it against you) defeats that purpose. And whoever is funding them isn’t going to be happy about that. And if whoever is funding them is the one who wanted to torture this creature/person. . . why do they need it to be specially modified or whatever? That really doesn’t make much sense, especially considering it’s virtually guaranteeing that this thing you have GIVEN SUPER POWERS TO is going to want to murder you. - Sure, it’s possible that one person on the staff might just personally be a sadistic bully or have a grudge against the character/creation even when none of the others do, like Kimura with Laura Kinney, but in all likelihood they’d be found out and fired. “But they take pains to hide it and erase security footage and--” Okay, if you really really want that, you can find a way to do it. Just know it’s not at all going to be acceptable procedure even in the most illegal of operations, not because it’s morally wrong but because it fucks with the product. And I would also ask yourself---if your character is already a lab rat, do they need to be tortured as well? Why? What does that add? Does it not feel “traumatic” or “dark” enough that they, a presumably sentient being, is already owned and imprisoned and kept from anything approaching a normal life? Why is that not “bad enough” to you that their story needs over-the-top torture as well? I’m not saying you can’t do it. I’m saying to think about why you’re doing it. Because a lot of times, in my experience, it basically comes down to cheap angst and sympathy points, often at the expense of, as discussed, logic. - “But they want to make them loyal out of fear!” Okay. That works only up until they get an opportunity to escape. Because if they’re afraid, they’ll take that chance. It’s true they might be too afraid to even try---that’s the case for many abuse victims---but I’m not sure that an organization wants to gamble that will be the case and risk losing their valuable asset the moment send asset is put in the field. And, again, risk the damage to them. This one is doable, you just have to be logical about it and think from the perspective of the people running things, not from the perspective of “what’s the most dramatic?” - “But it’s to brainwash them!” Brainwashing does not mean constant egregious torture that just somehow magically produces sudden loyalty one day. I know that tons of movies and comics have showed you this, but torture does NOT brainwash people. It actually makes people MORE resistant and hateful towards the people and group doing it. People under torture may confess to anything to make it stop, but that’s a short-term compliance and far from actually altering their minds in any way. It most certainly does not render them into obedient loyal sheep; typically the reverse, in fact. If you want to read more about this misconception and what the reality is, I’d check out these posts HERE and HERE and HERE which go much more in-depth and cite real-life sources. If you would like to read more about actual brainwashing, HERE and HERE . - “The torture is necessary for their training!” Again, this works to a point, but most people take it absurdly far in their depictions. Training is to build a person up; if it grievously injures or mentally traumatizes them, that’s counter-productive, as it decreases their usefulness. Being pointlessly cruel to your “living weapon” is just counter-productive. Training can certainly still be intense, and even un-ethically or dangerously so, but if it crosses into just coming up with ridiculously over-the-top ways to make the character suffer, it’s too OTT and clearly for angst-fuel, and most readers will probably roll their eyes because it’s just ridiculous after a certain point. Here are some good articles from SPRINGHOLE.NET relevant to this topic: Things To Know If Your Character Will Be Augmented Or Experimented Upon Things About Training & Teaching Writers Need To Know Tips For Writing Dark Stories, Settings, & Characters Pointlessly Edgy Tropes To Reconsider Using Basic Tips To Create Better Characters With Tragic & Traumatic Backstories Note that this is not to say that your lab rat character cannot have been mistreated, abused, or otherwise traumatized by their situation. Indeed, it would be unrealistic if they were NOT, since treating a sentient being as a tool under the control of others and having them commit violence, even if they do so “willingly” because they don’t know any better, is an inherently traumatic thing. But because it’s inherently traumatic, the unrealistic torture porn is just that much more unnecessary and frankly kind of silly. It’s also lazy, and the ways that many writers go about make no actual sense, as has been discussed. Going back to examples from Marvel, a favorite little-known X-Men character of mine is Darkstar, aka Laynia Petrovna. Laynia and her twin brother Nicolai were mutants born in the USSR. They were taken away by the state at birth, and raised by government scientist Professor Phobos in a “school” (read: facility) for super-soldiers. They were trained in combat and taught to be loyal to the USSR above all else. They were also told that their parents had abandoned them (when in fact their mother died in childbirth, and their father was told they had died too) and were NOT told that they were siblings, instead being given different surnames so that their familial loyalty would not supersede their loyalty to the Soviet Union. It wasn’t until they were adults and discovered their bio-father during a mission that they ever found out they were related. Yet, despite this, and despite occasionally joining superhero teams in the USA (Champions) or aiding the X-Men (X-Corps), Laynia has remained loyal to her country first, though she has often turned her back on its government (though she has returned to serving it now that the USSR is no more) What I really like about Laynia’s backstory is how different it is from most “I was raised as a weapon” stories in that it lacks overt abuse or trauma. She seems to have been treated just fine, she was never tortured, there was never shown to be any needlessly brutal training or treatment of her and the others, etc. She was raised to be a loyal servant to the state, and she was treated in a way that would actually facilitate that, and IT WORKED. So many scientists/trainers/etc in fiction seem to think it’s a great idea to treat your living weapon in ridiculously over-the-top violent, abusive ways for no real reason (except, of course, THE DRAMAZ) and will often be portrayed as insanely sadistic towards their pet projects…even though that’s obviously the LAST thing you would want to do with a valuable asset that you wanted to be loyal to you and have no desire to escape or turn sides. And as I said, it WORKS with Laynia. One of her biggest and most constant struggles FROM THE START is her loyalty to her country, versus her own conscience when she’s asked to do things she finds questionable. She also finds out again and again that she’s been lied to or manipulated by the people in charge of her, and sometimes she’ll defect, but she always ends up back again. And while she’s angry at the things that government asks her to do to others, or has done to others, she never really questions what was done to her. We never see her actually being like “holy shit, I was kidnapped and brainwashed and exploited and I’m really fucking angry about this!” like so many characters in similar situations realize (and often very quickly despite supposed brainwashing; even when still “loyal” they’re usually portrayed as hating their captors) And you know why? Because, again, what was done to her WORKED. Like she has a MOMENT in the issue where she finds out her real history and vows she won’t blindly follow a government ever again, but…she still sticks with the USSR, then Russian, government. She may not be “blindly” following, but she doesn’t seem ever able to leave them for long either. And her brother Nicolai/Vanguard strays even less than she does. And the writers never focus much on this. There’s never been a story that focuses on Laynia’s mindset or giving her a journey that helps her grow in any way or even just examines all this. Partly I think that’s because she’s so minor and has never had a story IN GENERAL that focuses on her. Partly I think it’s because writers just aren’t INTERESTED in a story like hers UNLESS it involves all the dramatic grimdark “tortured test subject” cliches, and they assume readers aren’t either. But I think this does a disservice to readers. One of my pet peeves, perhaps my MAJOR and BIGGEST one, about abuse in fiction is that it is ALWAYS portrayed as BLATANT and EXTREME, committed by people who are OBVIOUSLY monsters and who act like said monsters 24/7. They might get a shallow charming veneer to fool people, but the victim and audience both know that under that they’re un-nuanced, two-dimensional demons. And some abusers are like that. Some abuse is super extreme. But lots of abusers are much more nuanced, and lots of abuse is far for subtle. If only the most extreme types of abuse and abuser are portrayed, that’s all people learn to recognize “real abuse” as being. And real-life victims of abuse already have enough problems feeling that they weren’t “really abused” or “abused enough” to qualify. So I think stories like Laynia’s are important, and they’re worth exploring. They don’t treat abuse as torture porn, something to lingeringly emphasize to the audience in every gory detail for sheer shock value even when it makes NO SENSE for what the abuser is trying to accomplish. Instead, her story makes sense for what the government and its scientists employees were trying to do, and it has an accordingly realistic effect on her that manifests in a far less subtle but no less meaningful way than dramatic “media portrayals of PTSD” cliches. And it’s a story I’d be interested in seeing more of and finally unpacking fully, if any writer ever steps up to the plate ready to treat it with the sensitivity it deserves. Not every story of this sort needs to be like Laynia’s. But not every story of this type needs to be like Logan’s either. Figure out what works best for your character, question why you want it and what purpose it serves, and just make it make sense.

[lovelyirony]

hey girlie! so i have another prompt! i would really like your take on the avengers first few weeks/months/year together and how things changed and how they learned to really trust each other and the different, perhaps unexpected, bonds that grew! just some fun almost 2012-esque fluff uwu? (but if you made it angst, i would not complain. you do you) thank you!

Tony took one look at Fury. 

“No.” 

“Stark, where the hell else are they gonna go?” 

“Idaho!” Tony says. “Hulk can leap a ton, he’ll get to New York in about ten minutes with all of them hanging off his back. It’ll be fine.” 

Director Fury wants to use Tony’s place of residence as a way to hold the Avengers. As if Tony is just this Amazing, Fantastic Man Who Can Definitely Hold the Avengers in a Building. 

He calls Pepper because he knows that they’ll show up. He needs reinforced glass and he needs to start testing just how well his coffee machine can hold up, or if he needs to build an entirely new one. 

He probably needs a new one. 

Rhodey, understandably, is a bit pissed. 

“What, so Fury just decided ‘haha fuck you take these poor souls in’?” Rhodey asks. Tony sighs, flopping down on the couch. 

“Essentially, yes. Because apparently, I have better resources to contain them.” 

“Military spends over six hundred billion for their budget alone, and SHIELD really thinks you’re the only one who has resources?” 

“I’m the only one sharing them,” Tony says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Do you think that they need healthcare? Steve might need healthcare, I’m not even sure if the serum would allow that…” 

“You are not giving them healthcare, I don’t care how nice you are,” Rhodey says. “They can do it themselves since they’re ruining fruit pizza night.” 

Fuck. 

- 

Clint is shouldering one duffle bag, another bag that he’s trying to keep still, and looking at Natasha, who is staring up at the garish “A” that was put back up after the fight. 

“You think this’ll be fine?” Clint asks. 

“No.” And just like that, Natasha walks in, like this has always been her home. 

The elevator is weird. Clint’s not used to a functional elevator, and realizes that he’ll have to add arm workouts because he won’t have to pry himself from the elevator doors anymore. 

He doesn’t know where the gym is. He also doesn’t know how seriously Tony takes coffee. 

- 

Steve is…well they told him that he has a room available at Stark Tower, but he’s not entirely sure that he should go. 

The apartment in Brooklyn is just fine, even if the rent is too damn expensive. It’s a shoe box of a place, but as long as he can have a bed and a window he’s fine. 

“You’re so sad,” Natasha says to him on the phone. He appreciates texting, but it seems that everyone thinks his poor 1940s sensibilities are still ingrained. To some aspect they are, but he also realized that looking at videos of people falling for twenty minutes is hilarious. Everyone else thinks he’s doing something else. He is not. 

But he doesn’t want to move. He just got here. And he keeps talking to people who aren’t there. 

(He asked Bucky if he still wanted bacon that morning. 

He’s not there.) 

Fury insists on it. 

“You’re under SHIELD,” he says. “And besides, it’ll be good for Stark to finally have someone who’s on his…level.” 

“What do you mean by that, Sir?” 

“He has an ego. Needs to be taken down a few pegs.” 

Steve nods. He’s not completely sure that he agrees with that. Tony flew under giant jet propellers, flew into the sky for what needed to be done. It was death, he knew that. 

(Oh, he knew it a bit too well. Sent ice down his spine as a reminder for how well he knows it.) 

But he grabs his things because he’s anything if not a good rule-follower, according to history. 

He just leaves a bit of a mess for Fury to deal with in the form of “oh, those gosh-darn-new-fangled washing machines! I don’t know what I did. I put spaghetti sauce in the dish detergent area I thought that’s where extra food went!” 

Steve knows for a damn fact that that’s not where food goes. He just likes letting them know that he’s not some “how high do I jump, Sir?” kind of guy. 

He stares up at the big, ugly tower. Well…here goes nothing. 

- 

Thor was actually pretty okay with sleeping on a couch. He was not expecting a bedroom of his own, so when Tony told him? 

Thor hugs him. 

“Thank you,” he says, smiling. “Your kindness stretches for miles.” 

“Um…you’re welcome?” Tony questions, subconsciously rubbing his own arms, as if he can’t believe that someone else hugged him. 

“I have a question about human advancement,” Thor says, changing the subject. “I…you guys haven’t figured out my sort of transportation, correct?” 

“I didn’t even know we could do that,” Tony says, eyes going wide. “Does it rearrange your cells? Do you have to think about it? How dangerous is it?” 

Thor grins, setting down his bag and resting at the kitchen counter. He’ll be ready to talk about this for a while. 

- 

Bruce comes into the Tower as quietly as possible, not wanting to cause any huge sort of fuss. 

This doesn’t matter when Tony finds him and visibly brightens. Thor is already sitting at the kitchen. He looks surprisingly domestic, just in jeans and a worn t-shirt. 

“I didn’t know you went shopping,” Bruce remarked. 

“Have to fit in with your mortals somehow,” Thor jokes. “Good to see you again, Doctor.” 

“Just call me Bruce,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “What have you guys been talking about?” 

“Interdimensional travel. Tony’s betting he can perfect it in under a year,” Thor says. 

Bruce looks to Tony. 

“You sure about that?” 

“So long as you help me,” Tony teases.  

- 

The team being together is…awkward. Tony is not used to people living in his house, so he forgets to amend his usual…habits. 

Rhodey is used to them, but currently he is overseas on a “top secret” mission. Tony knows all, because that’s the type of friend he can be. He’s sending Rhodey a postcard, addressed to the exact location. Rhodey’s superiors will be furious, unless if it’s one of the older ones. 

But Tony is not used to other people being present for his breakfast shenanigans, so he’s in an old tank top that is stained with grease, and he’s humming as he’s flitting around the kitchen, turning on the coffeepot without so much as a thought. 

When he turns, he sees Clint. 

“You’re a morning person?” Clint asks, eyes as wide as can be. 

“You are also up at six in the morning,” Tony says. “So I think that qualifies you as well.” 

“Had it not been for SHIELD, neither of us get up before eleven,” Natasha says. “Like the rag you call a shirt, Stark. Suits you.” 

Tony pokes out his tongue, taking a swig of coffee. 

“You’re just jealous,” Tony says. “I make this look like it could be four hundred dollars.” 

Clint groans. 

“I’m mad that you’re right,” Clint says. “Hey, quick question. How averse are you to me using your coffeepot?” 

“I’m done, go for it,” Tony says. “Thank you for asking, I appreciate it.” 

Clint brings out a bag of coffee that Tony was banned from about two years ago. 

Pepper does not need to know that. 

“If I give you money, will you buy more of this?” Tony says, eyes wide. 

“Um, yeah?” Clint says. “This is the only coffee that wakes me up in the morning.” 

“Why can’t you buy it?” Natasha asks, suspicious. “Were you banned?” 

“Sir was, indeed, banned from the substance,” Jarvis intercedes, smoothly. Natasha jumps a bit. “I would highly advise against buying it for him, as that would induce the wrath of Ms. Potts.” 

“Spoilsport,” Tony pouts. “Clint, I will make you a custom-bow with the perfect measurements and full custom design. I would even deign to put any logo on it that you wanted.” 

“So if I wanted it to be themed, you’d do it?” 

“Yes.” 

“Worth it. I also don’t fear death by a powerful woman, it’s in my Top Five Ways to Die list,” Clint says with a shrug. 

- 

Steve is used to living with other people. He was in the army, after all, and guys slept about three feet apart. He had thought he would see it all. 

This is until he walks in to see Bruce and Natasha in a staredown, hands clasped in an arm-wrestling pose. 

“What are the stakes?” Steve asks. 

“There are communal strawberries on the line,” Bruce says, not blinking. “And I am going to eat them. Natasha seems to think that she will be taking them to her room.” 

“Why not buy more?” Steve asks, settling into the bar with his sketchpad. 

“Because that’s the route for pacifists,” Natasha answers. 

“Bruce, are you not a pacifist?” Steve asks, raising eyebrows. 

“Technically? Yes,” Bruce says. His arm is shaking with effort. “But when fruit is involved that tends to…ebb.” 

“I’m going to leave,” Steve says slowly. “I am scared.” 

He hears a thump on his way out, a curse from Natasha, and then Bruce passes by him with a huge box of strawberries, cackling maniacally as Natasha rushes after him. 

Steve laughs. 

Thor raises an eyebrow as Bruce launches himself into his room, shutting the door. 

“Do you know what’s going on?” 

“Strawberry fights. Very serious thing,” Steve asks, grinning. “Wanna take a bet on if Natasha gets in?” 

“She will,” Thor answers. “But twenty bucks says she does it in ten minutes.” 

“Twenty minutes for me. You’re on,” Steve counters.

- 

Of course, it isn’t all violets and roses. Steve and Tony fight like cats and dogs, and Bruce gets short with people. 

Natasha doesn’t like talking feelings, and Clint would rather launch himself off a building than deal with any sort of threat that is adulthood. 

Thor…Thor is older significantly. He’s just dealing with mortal life and how quickly it goes by and the truth behind his father’s reign of Asgard. 

The team, gets through it. But not without a few hard knocks. 

- 

One of the first moments of bonding as a team is due to the ever-heated-debate of pineapple. 

Natasha, Tony, Bruce, and Thor are on the side of “acceptable.” 

Clint and Steve are on the side of “simply terrible and the absolute worst.” 

Steve comes up to bat first with the line of “I ate war rations that were better than this shit.” 

Bruce has nothing to add other than “my self-esteem directly correlates to pineapple on pizza.” 

“I don’t know what that means, but! I think if we put pineapple on pizza then you guys can’t argue when I make my food.” 

“You think putting cheese-sticks instead of shredded cheese on pizza is acceptable,” Tony says. “I have trust issues because of that. They didn’t even melt right!” 

“I thought you were all about admitting to mistakes, Mr. Sorry-I-Accused-the-Whole-Team-of-Stealing-My-Kiwi-When-it-was-Rhodey,” Clint teases. 

“Speaking of, what is Rhodey’s opinion on this?” Steve asks. “I bet he hates pineapple!” 

“We are not bringing him into this,” Tony says quickly. 

“I’m calling him,” Clint says. 

“How do you have his number?” 

“I’m Hawkeye. I see all.” 

“You couldn’t even see the name of ‘Bruce Banner’ on top of my Murtabak.” 

“How am I expected to read that shitty doctor language? Anyways, you should be grateful that I ate it because my toes curled because of the spice.” 

“You can’t handle the spice!” 

“You’re right!” 

From there, it dissolves into giggles and laughs. 

Tony orders pizza, and they all sit around the common room, debating over what is the least acceptable topping (other than pineapple in some settings). 

They end up debating over sardines next, which Steve says “aren’t the worst.” 

Natasha says broccoli, which is agree upon. Broccoli should not go on pizza. 

Steve draws a little picture of Clint and Tony arguing, complete with gesticulating hands and the little t-shirt details of Clint. 

Thor hangs it up on the fridge. 

“This is now where we hang accomplishments,” Thor says gravely. “I saw it in a show. Do people actually do that here?” 

“Don’t ask me,” Steve says. “I just got a fridge this century. Didn’t have one growing up. Too poor in the Depression.” 

“I can’t believe you and me both lived in a Depression,” Bruce says thoughtfully. 

“Bruce, you were born in the–” Steve stops for a moment. “Oh. Now that’s a neat joke.” 

Bruce snorts. 

The fridge is stacked with sticky notes that are usually petty in nature, although Tony allows his good stationary to be used for good accomplishments. 

The Petty Messages are as Follows: 

Bruce managed to share blueberries with Natasha and not bitch about it the whole duration. Incredible. -Nat. 

Thor actually didn’t monopolize the aux cord and play his super shitty playlist that is full of bad 2000s music. -Tony 

Tony withstood the whole duration of American Classic “Don’t Go Chasing Waterfalls” and only winced once. -Thor. 

Steve managed to be tolerable for more than three hours. -Bruce 

Clint is a Good Guy Who Deserves Good Things -Natasha 

Even though she wrote that drunk she’s right lmao -Clint 

The Excellent Messages are as Follows: 

Tony actually opened up and told us what was bothering him so we could address it! -Clint and Bruce 

Thor helped Natasha with her furniture and helped us calm down from IKEA instructions. -Steve 

Bruce kicked the government’s ass. -Everyone on the team plus Maria and Fury 

Steve tried to roller skate and provided wholesome content when he was gripping the wall but also bonded with the team. -Natasha 

Clint baked cookies!!!!!!!!! And didn’t burn the tower down!!!!! -Tony 

Rhodey finally let us make fruit pizza and shared his music playlists. -Thor 

Natasha helped with group therapy today and opened up. It was amazing and I love her so much for that. -Bruce 

- 

The team grows closer, due to many reasons. But most of all, it is because they kept trying, which is very important. Even when they wanted to rip their hair out and they said the wrong things, they were still there and circling back around to make an apology. 

So when they’re out for battle, they don’t worry if someone won’t have their back. Hulk will be there with outstretched palm, Iron Man will be there with a quick joke and open arms, Black Widow will be there with deadly skill. Hawkeye will be there with the most accurate aim in the world, Thor will be there with thunderous force, and Captain America will have a shield and protection. 

But Bruce will be there when they need a joke and calm reassurance. Tony will be there to share his endless affection and touch. Natasha will be there with sound logic, a smile, and soft sweaters. Thor will be there with stories of old, energetic reassurance, and a strong and reliant personality. Steve will be there with art and words that go unsaid but not unheard. 

That, perhaps, is the most important. 

[blackbabybird]

Forgiven - Chapter 5 - The Hangover

warnings: bad words, racism, alcohol. bruce and isley are having breakfast and no one knows what happened at the party ;) titus is gotham’s codename cause you can never be too cautious. i know these two are slow burn, but i’m hoping i make it worth it. enjoy :)

You’ve got me intoxicated 

~ Intoxicated (Radio Edit) by Martin Solveig, Good Times Ahead

Sunlight filtered through the large windows as I slowly opened my eyes. I groan slightly. My head was pounding. I keep my eyes closed long enough to pull my shit together. Some girls would consider me lucky and why you might ask? As I finally opened my eyes, I was facing the massive bicep of Bruce Wayne himself. Fuck. 

I look down underneath the covers. I still had my dress on from last night. “Glad to see you’re awake,” his morning voice speaks. 

I groan loudly, “Talking hurts my head.” I mumble underneath the covers I had pulled over me. All he does is laughs, “What the fuck happened last night? Why do I feel like death incarnate?”

“What you’re feeling is Phoebe giving you 2 Russian Mauraders as chasers after your double shots of vodka,” Bruce answers while flipping a page of his book.

“That bitch,” I growl as I roll up onto one arm. “Why am I in your bed?”

Finally, Bruce looks over to me, “I put you in your old room, but some time around 5 am, you ended up here.”

I raise an eyebrow, then I wince cause goddamn my head hurts. “You also told me about the case you’re working,” Bruce says solemnly. 

I sit up in his bed despite my head protesting, “Feed me first then I’ll talk more, yeah?” I say. 

///

A knock resounds at my door, “Master Bruce, breakfast is ready,” he opens the door, “Although, I couldn’t find Ms. Thom- Oh.” 

“We’ll be down soon. Thanks Alfred,” I say. The door closes and I tell Isley, “In my closet, there are some outfits you can choose from.” 

I walk out the room to let her get dressed. I make my way down to the breakfast nook. Alfred is milling around dusting a spot that has no dust. I stand next to the table and clear my throat, “Alfred.”

He acts surprised at me being down the stairs, “Oh, Master Bruce, what a surprise! My apologies for stepping in on such precious moments between you and Ms. Thomas.”

“You’re so full of shit, Alfred.” I say with an eye roll. 

“You should be nicer to Alfred, Bruce. I mean he does tolerate you after all,” Isley interrupts. 

I felt my heart speed up. I don’t know how she did it, but no matter what she wore she looked amazing. She had on a tank top, black jeans, and black boots. Her hair had started to curl back up from its time being straight.

“Breakfast looks great Alfred,” Isley compliments. 

“You flatter me, Ms. Thomas. I will leave you two.” Alfred leaves the breakfast nook. It’s just Isley and I.

Isley is already happily digging into breakfast. I don’t have much of an appetite so I swirl my chopped up pancakes around my plates. “You’re extremely moody for someone who doesn’t have a hangover,” Isley jokes.

I shrug. I didn’t have a response. I was afraid that I would say the wrong thing. 

Isley sets down her fork, “His name is Amos. 13 year old Black boy from Andan County, Indiana,” she starts, “Bruce. Something bad has happened to him.”

I hear the worry through her voice. Over a boy she doesn’t even know. Another reason you fell for her, dumbass. “How do you know?” I ask. 

She opens her mouth. I could tell her brain was swirling with a million things that would explain her turmoil over this young boy. “The school,” she says.

“School?”

“Cork County Middle School. When I went I was expecting a suburban public middle school in rural Indiana, but it’s so much more than that,” her voice breaks off. 

She catches my stare. The look in her eyes, I knew it from a long time ago. “You visited? By yourself? I don’t need to tell you how dumb that decision was." I shake my head.

“I was doing my job,” she spits defensively.

Great! Now you’ve pissed her off. “Why did the school seem off?” I change the subject.

She gives me a hard look that says, we’ll discuss that later. “The headmaster. Names Guille, she had her eyes gouged out and spoke about disciplining Amos,” then she starts getting more animated, “More than your usual ‘black children are a nuisance and I’m a covert racist so I will punish them’ type of discipline.” 

I just raise an eyebrow. “The headmaster eyes were gouged out? Interesting.” I pause and then it hits me, “You think it’s metahuman related?” 

She toys with her bottom lip for a second. Focus, Bruce. “I wanted a second opinion, but...everything is leading towards that. I think Cork County Middle is a front for metahuman trafficking. And they’re trafficking orphan children. Specifically metahuman ones.” 

The words linger heavy in between us. Leaving Gotham for the night didn’t sit right with me, but even I could say that patrol was starting to get boring. “We can check it out tonight,” I say leaning back in my chair.

I shoot Dick a text: Could you watch Titus tonight? Giving Alfred a break.

The smile she gives me doesn’t quite meet her eyes, “I appreciate Bruce, really. I just need to find this kid.” 

His response vibrates my phone: I hope you’re going on a date with that hottie from balcony. What was her name? Ivy? 

Me: Isley.

Dick Grayson: God, I’m so hungover. Don’t do anything I would ;)

I ignore his message, but another rings through: Actually, please do the things I would. It’ll prove beneficial for you. :)

“Listen, I’m gonna find Pheebs and head out of Gotham. Meet at my place at 8?” Isley interrupts my text conversation with Dick.

I look up at her now that she’s standing next me, “Am I supposed to know where you live?” I deadpan. 

She gets right next to my ear, “I’m sure you’ll manage, Bats.” is all she says before she walks out the breakfast nook. That woman is gonna be the death of me.

///

“Hey, I’m heading out for the night, you need anything?” Phoebe knocks at the door of my office. 

I shake my head. “I’m good. Thanks, though.”

I could feel her eyes roam my hunched figure, “You’re going out tonight?” 

She knows the answer to that question. I just sigh and set my pen down. She puts both of her hands up in a gesture that signals her letting the topic go, “Just...be careful, yeah? Don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

She slaps the door frame a couple times and leaves. I hear the door lock and go back to annotating a case that might have something to do with Amos’ disappearance. I hear a woosh noise. “Trying to sneak up on me?” I ask. 

He doesn’t respond, but I know he’s there. I underline something on the file. “There’s a file labeled Kristee Frost. She works for CCPD and I think she’s the one who’s funneling the children through the school,” I say without looking up. 

“What makes you so sure?” he says. 

I finally look up at Batman. “She’s an outsourced social services liaison for children with, ahem, special developments,” I say in quotes. 

All Batman does is hum, “What’s the plan?”

I stand up and allow my own suit of armor to phase through. “We’re gonna need the Batwing in stealth mode. We’re gonna break into Cork County Middle School and do what we do best. Detective work.” 

He starts tapping on his arm, calling the Batwing to my city. “New suit?” he asks. 

I look at the white armor. It’s accented with gold striping. “Something like that. I figured I needed an upgrade if this turns out to be something big.” I explain. 

He doesn’t respond so I take that as positive and open the window. I could hear the Batwing over us. Batman comes closer to me as I climb out the window onto the fire escape. I grab his arm and start to fly us up towards the plane. Upon arrival, his connected BatTech recognizes him. However, I wasn’t ready for it to know me. “Designation: Phantom. ID confirmed.” 

“Isley,” Batman says typing at the BatTech flight grid. 

“Bruce,” I say back. 

“Are you sure you’re prepared for what we may find?”

I think about what he means. Uncovering a trafficking ring of any kind is not easy pill to swallow. A small part of me hopes that it’s a one off chance. Amos is just missing because he ran off or something stupid, but deep down I know that is not what this is. “Nighttimes a burnin, Batman,” is all I say.

He gives a curt nod and we take off to the school. 

[infinite-rabbits]

Emergency: Please help

So this happened yesterday. I made a few posts of it here and was messing around on tumblr to distract myself from all of the stress, but now the seriousness of the situation is really hitting us.

My roommate and I are both out of work due to Corvid-19. We’re not sure if we’re getting paid for our time away and there isn’t much communication from our jobs. Yesterday we got hit hard enough from someone who was gunning it out of a parking lot that they totaled the car. I know this doesn’t look like a lot of damage, but apparently the frame is completely messed up and the insurance company is going to take the car and possibly give us enough to replace it??

The worst part about this is that we had barely enough money to last over the next two months being out of work. We had rent covered, food, and bills once we pooled our money together.

But now we have to loose a huge chunk of that money because he has to pay the deductible on the insurance.

So I’m going to do what I really wished I would never have to do. I have to ask for your help. Please, if you can donate anything at all, doesn’t matter how big or little it is, you can send it to me through my Ko-Fi: HERE Or you can IM me and I can give you the address my paypal is linked to. If you can’t donate, please please please just reblog this. The more people see it, the better.

Thank you for any help you can give, little or small, it means the world to us.

Full Story of what happened under the cut:

So uh... we ran out of bread last night and we're close to being out of PB&J. This morning we decided to go out and get some more because, well, it's hard to get ahold of because everyone's panicking and it's one of the main things in our diet right now. The roomie and I headed for Walmart, and while we were on a 2-lane road in the left lane, some douchenozzle shoves his way through the heavy traffic out of a parking-lot and rams us on my side. We weren't even going that fast. We were actually coming up to a stop-light, so my roomie was slowing down. He hit us hard enough to make us spin-out and do a full 180degree turn. The back passenger door was absolutely wrecked and I was lucky he didn't hit MY door, but because he hit my side, I'm really starting to hurt now. The back driver wheel hit the median while we spun and it actually hit so hard that it knocked the wheel itself off of the rim and scraped the metal. Somehow we didn't hit another car and we wound up in the right-hand lane completely turned around and facing the wrong direction. I was SO pissed that I got out of the car and screamed at the guy. Both of us were shaking and I was choking because when he hit us, some white stuff flew  into the car and I breathed it in. Still kinda choking on it. (Found out later it was probably the stirofoam that was under his bumper.) I manage to kinda stop traffic enough for us to get the car out of the lane and into the parking lot beside us, after which we realized that we couldn't drive any further because of the wheel being messed up. He stayed in the median and called for someone while we called the cops and the insurance company. Then I noticed there was a damn kid in his car. She was like, 2-3 years old and didn't look like she'd been strapped in because she was just climbing from the back to the front seat to see what was going on. He sped through fucking traffic and t-boned us with a kid in the back seat. This whole time, he's over there refusing to come and talk to us until someone else shows up. Turns out, he needs a translator. That's fine. In our area we get a lot of tourists so I just assumed he wasn't from around here. I would have assumed his car was a rental if it hadn't been for the brand new paper license plate. They get their car into the parking lot too and his bumper is all but falling off. A lady shows up to take care of the kid, which seems fine. But then another guy shows up. Then another guy. And Grandma shows up too. For some reason the whole family shows up and are hanging around while we wait for the cop. Normally I wouldn't care, but being surrounded by this many people while I'm already anxious was a bit much for me and made me uncomfortable. I'd already called a friend and cried over the phone with her and being surrounded made me feel stressed. Finally the cop shows up, gets our stories and our information, then goes into his car for basically an hour to have to fill everything out and get it all in order. Luckily we just get given a sheet of paper with all of the information we need on it. Then he glances at them and says to us, "They're gonna be pissed." He wound up getting a ticket among who knows what else because of his reckless driving. The cop leaves and they're visibly angry. Then one of the guys who showed up approaches us. Something about him immediately rubbed me the wrong way, like I got a bad vibe from him. He asks us if we're alright, and I tell him no because our car's wrecked and I'm starting to hurt. Then he tries to get us to lie. Like the dude straight up look sat my roommate and says, "If they ask what happened, tell them--" I have NEVER cut someone off so fast before. I told him: " NO. If they ask, we are going to tell them EXACTLY what happened." And this douche has the NERVE to say: "Well next time you really shouldn't be going so fast. Then you can stop when something like this happens." Like, he's legit trying to turn this around to be my roomie's fault. Keep in mind: we were coming up to a stop light. We were actively slowing down. The speed limit in there is 45. My roomie couldn't have possibly been going more than 35 at the absolute most, and even that's pushing it. I just GLARE at this guy and say: "NO. Even the COP said WE HAVE THE RIGHT OF WAY. HE hit US. You need to walk away." I'm... I'm tiny. I'm not even fully 5'6" and I'm sitting here in my stupid Jurassic Park tank top and hole-filled shorts just glaring daggers at this guy. Don't you dare come at me with your stupid scorpion gold chain necklace thinking you're all big and bad and thinking you're going to intimidate me when you're outright coming after my roommate. I'm a wuss when someone comes after ME and I'm by myself, but you put me in a room with people I care about and have someone go after them? All bets are off. Thankfully he just got pissed off and turned away. The whole family climbed into the back of their other van except for like two who went into the translator's car, and they all drove off. For like an hour. We were left sitting there trying to contact the insurance company again, making sure they got all of the files they needed, making sure they got their statements, and figuring out if it was getting towed tonight or not. Then the translator and one of the other guys show up and start messing with their van. First they back it up...and the bumper nearly completely falls off. Then they sit there for a few minutes and try to get it on. The guy driving it goes very slowly out of the parking lot, leaving his entire front in the right-hand lane for some reason while he's waiting to go and then finally does. The other guy on the other hand almost causes another accident. So he's behind a truck that's also waiting to turn out. When the truck goes to pull out, this dumbass SLAMS down on his gas, nearly rear-ends the truck, slams on his breaks, and then once the truck is out of the way, he zooms out of the parking lot without properly looking to make sure no one else is coming. I really don't understand it. But from the looks of things, they probably aren't going to be calling their own insurance company. The car wasn't even registered under the guy that rammed us. It was someone else's name of the same address. So he just wrecked someone else's newly bought car. All of it sucks, my roommate's car is totaled and we are gonna see if we're getting any money for it tomorrow, and I'm in pain so the insurance company is gonna have to send me a doctor over all of this. We're out $500 for the deductible and I'm.... honestly really frustrated. All of this because of Bread, Peanutbutter, and Jelly. Thankfully a friend of ours came to pick us up and also brought us those three things, but now the adrenaline is starting to wear off and I'm getting *really* tired. I'm going to get myself some coffee and try my best to focus on the one-shot I started before the crash just to keep myself awake for now. For the most part I was typing all of this here because it's a safe place to store the information in case I forget anything. But also I kinda wanted to let you guys know why I hadn't posted anything yet. I was saying I wanted to do one short-story a day and I fell behind yesterday because I was doing character-designs for one of the other stories. So I feel guilty falling behind today too. Even if I do have a good reason for it. Stay safe out there, everyone. It's getting really crazy.

[zachsgamejournal]

PLAYING: Star Wars Jedi Knight: Dark Forces 2

After a dip in enthusiasm for this game, the past two levels have pulled me back in!

The biggest problem with this game is the environment design. While they’ve captured the textures and accents of Star Wars, the spaces just don’t make sense. It’s strange interconnected hallways with confusingly dangerous walkways and bridges. Games like Goldeneye 64 and Half-Life still had very gamey-environments, but they seemed to live within real places. While the past two levels aren’t lived-in, they’re closer.

First, the Fuel Station--or something. The level opens on a rooftop. There’s a lethal space to another rooftop with an interesting structure/guard tower. It took a few tries, but I used my force-jump to hop across. While exploring the other side I realized, while this was a secret area, I could have totally gotten here by taking a back way.

Whatever, I found my way.

This level is basically a downward spiral, not in a bad way--just literally a downward spiral of walkways. The spiral orbits around a center piece that is a fuel container, I think. The goal is to drain the fuel and go through the container to sneak into the thing...

It reminded me of the Missile Silo level of Goldeneye 64, which is a good thing. That was one of my favorite level. The linear, tight spaces allowed for a lot of fun shootouts without worrying about getting lost. Unless you forgot to pick up the keycard or whatever, then there was a lot of back tracking.

This level was fairly similar. It wasn’t too hard to get lost as almost every hall or room led back to the main spiral. What was confusing, was how to drain the fuel tank. There’s four buttons, one on each “level” of the spiral. Because you start at the top and fight your way down, I was under the impression I needed to flip each switch as I traveled down. This was reinforced by the fact that hitting the switch showed the fuel level in a window lower down to where you are. I definitely felt like I was draining the fuel tank.

I finally get to the boom and find a door, but I can’t get in. There’s a switch but it says something about a tool. Like many mid-late 90′s games, this tool is hidden in some random place with no rhyme or reason for being there or for the player to think to look there. You’re just expected to look EVERYWHERE!

Anyway, found the tool and took it back to the tool-using-place and it didn’t work. I spent about 30 minutes backtracking, trying to figure if I had missed a switch or there was a hidden path. After a while, I gave up and checked a guide. Turns out you don’t drain the tank by flipping switches. you move the fuel up higher so you can go underneath. I think...anyway, it was weird and unintuitive.

I then end up in a fuel tunnel--which is huge. This part was interesting cause there’s these walls along the tunnel that have gates. There’s these giant half-pizza doors that rotate open when you use the tool to flip a switch. I realized that if you stood in the door’s path, preventing it from opening, the door stopped and an alarm sounded. Pretty neat. The safety measures made the level feel more lived in. It also created a basic, but logical puzzle of having to close the previous gate before opening the next.

I then wound up in some tunnels that looked like what Luke fail through in Empire Strikes Back and finally into this large, circular room. I knew I “had” to go here, but I couldn’t figure out what to do. There was a circular platform at the center, and it looked suspicious. So I stood on it, jumped on it, threw grenades and missiles at it. I looked it up, I had to use the light saber.

Oh. I didn’t realize this was the only tool to overcome cheap metal.

After that, I had to rush across a platform to jump onto a moving ship. I didn’t quite realize that’s what i was about to do, but fun.

The next level was pretty interesting. I’m on the ship now and I have to “cut the power” to doors to release the locks. Now that have many weapons to choose from (rapid fire pistols, rocket launchers, BFG, whatever) it’s a lot easier to go blaster-crazy. And every defeated enemy drops plenty of ammo. So the caution I needed earlier in the game is gone.

Pretty neat, they had “invisible” force fields defending key areas, but the switches to those force fields are not clearly labeled. Maybe would be nice to have some wires leading me there, or brighter colors and not some tiny, black switch box hidden in a corner.

After disabling a fan, i found myself in a vent shaft. I didn’t not understand what they wanted me to do. It felt like the vents were “breathing” with air pushing and pulling in rhythmic waves. I thought, for a bit, that I was supposed to time the exhale with a jump to get to a higher region, but really--I just had to “sprint through” the resistance and I found myself getting to where I needed to be. A reactor. Though I later realized I needed to disable a force field with an inconspicuous switch and shut down the reactor (I died from radiation a few times).

After all this, I get to a cutscene and my nemesis so far, 8T88, is there. But his head falls off cause he’s already dead. All this time chasing a ghost...A large guy and a tiny guy challenge me with light-sabers to match their sizes. Yay, another awkward boss fight.

I goofed around in the fight before bed, but I didn’t expect to win. I may cheat my way through, I’m really not interested in more junky lightsaber battles. But overall, I’m having fun again!