#those are his kids and brick has accomplices now

[serphup]

Mikhail's students + menace

[sly-merlin]

KILLING ME - 13 | n.y

pairing : law student!reader + yuta

genre :    angst , mafia au/ arranged marriage au.

warnings of this chapter : mentions of brutality described in previous chapter, mentions of strained breathing, curse words. For future chapters, major character death(s).

words : 4.5k

summary :

“life’s never fair y/n. realise it as soon as you can . it is the only secret for living a regretless life.”                                  

or            

 “  curiousity got the cat hitched”

K.M masterlist

K.M 12

taglist : @kpop-choco @moon-yuta @kawaiiayasan @btm-taeyong @exfolitae @lanadreamie @cheersskznct @hyuckiesgf @theworld-accordingtocasey @yiyi4657 @sorrywonwoo @sillywinnergladiator @minejungwoo @leesalts  @mal-nakamoto23 @ro2424 @itlittlefangirl @nctzens-world @bl--ankhaeji @simplybree @ncttboo @jeaneteflo @nuoyii @bralessmermaid @minhoseyeliner

In the silent room, the sound of taeil's shoes reverberated as he paced back and forth. Of the seventeen men standing in the living room, most had their heads hung low while some paid side glances to Jaehyun and ten as they fell prey to Taeil's anger.

"Last time!" Fingers pointed in the air, taeil asked in a dangerously calm voice, "don't make me repeat myself. Who left the door open?"

Messing his hair, jaehyun began,

"We didn’t know she was still there in the basement. Usually she’s out by-

“just answer me already.” Taeil shouted in exasperation.

“we don’t clearly remember. Me and ten were busy interrogating him.'' Jaehyun's voice was barely above a mumble but it still managed to reach everyone in the parameter.

Taeil turned to ten, furiously rubbing his forehead, impliedly asking for a reply but he merely shrugged in shame.

“Since when you have been butchering people with doors ajar for everyone to see?” the volume of his voice sent shivers to each and every presence in the room. Taeil never lost his calm, this was, after all, his metier. But he knew when to let go of his usual demeanor and nobody plucked up the courage to question him either.

“we didn’t do it deliberately. It was a mistake. An accident. Why are you drawing this so much.” jaehyun daren’t raise his voice above a whisper but his words were alarming enough

“You all need to recall the rules we stand by. What if jisung had gone down? Would you throw the same lame excuses even then? Won’t you be sorry if he or chenle or sungchan had seen a human being cut open like that? you and ten are both equ-

“we are ready to apologise to her okay. I’m not running from responsibility here. Nobody i-”

“Accepting a mistake is not even the bare minimum. We don't need your hollow apology if you don’t mean it. just because she’s understanding doesn’t mean the blood would leave her head. There’s a reason those rooms are forbidden for some of us here.”

Jaehyun’s unexpected raspy chuckle earned multiple gasps from the room. Taeyong was about to reach him but taeil stopped him by a show of his palm.

Jaehyun pinched his nose before barking,

“when jisung and chenle are told not to enter forbidden areas, they actually do listen but your pretty sweet y/n never does that. she’s just reaping the fruit of her own reckless behaviour again. it’s not my mistake that she’s so damn nosy all the –

“WHAT IF IT WAS NARA AND NOT Y/N JUNG JAEHYUN? WOULD YOU HAVE SPILLED SAME BULLSHIT IF IT WAS HER?

Taeil knew he shouldn’t have said that. Jaehyun’s darkened eyes calmed Taeil instantly as he realised he too had crossed a line.

as he angrily took a step forward towards taeil, jaehyun was abruptly halted by johnny and taeyong as they kept the two men apart. The reason for the argument left Jaehyun's mind, the mere mention of nara was enough to blow his fuse. He was furious yet he didn’t resist the boys and let his sharp breathing convey his message to taeil.

“Stop it you both. Go back to your rooms everyone.” Johnny announced, hands still holding Jaehyun's arm and torso, almost hugging and shielding him from taeil. “let it go jae. Just calm down. Please.”

Everyone remained glued to their feet, too afraid to make any noise. Huffing loudly, Jaehyun pushed Johnny away. Jaw clenched, chest heaving in rage, he furthered himself and instead of going for taeil’s neck as everyone has thought, his hand reached for the vase and the very next moment, the beautiful curved glass met the ground, shattering into innumerable pieces, right where taeil stood.

“JAEHYUN”

Taeyong roared watching younger and the older staring each other down.

“never compare nara to her.never!” With a perilously low voice, jaehyun glowered at taeil. “measure them up on the same scale again and you won’t be alive to regret again!”

Jaehyun stormed out upstairs. Soon after, without saying or expressing anything, taeil left too, masking his emotions just like usual times.

“when are they going to talk this out. It’s been three years already.” Johnny mumbled more to himself but everyone heard him and each and every presence in the room understood him.

Sleep despised you. Even sleeping pills had turned their back on you. Sprawled on the bed, you prayed to some magical being to descend and help you but no matter how humbly you pleaded, there was no end to your misery.

"He was a drug supplier, one of the accomplice of importing life threatening drugs in korea. He had it coming when he refused to tell us about other handlers. What you need to know is we have done a favour by taking his life."

Taeyong's words were seeded into your head. Your fear was fine, he had told you. He also said you’d forget about it in no time but he couldn’t mark when the “no time” would end. The vision of what you witnessed was quite blurry by now but the awful feeling in the pit of your stomach chose not to leave you yet. From what taeyong explained, that man was a mere pawn. A hidden syndicate was exporting deleterious drugs and they were just trying to find out the people behind it.

The only thing you had gathered was that just like every normal entity, criminals like neos weren’t fond of any sort of competition. With a pack of sleeping pills given by xiaojun, meant to help you sleep through the night, you were dropped at your house by dear Mark who kept stuttering explanations while driving. They have never killed anyone innocent, Mark said and kept it repeating in different possible ways a sentence could be transformed into.

You weren’t sure if you believed him yet. But even the mere thought of getting used to the brutality was horrendous than what you had seen once.

Two days later, at black neos. 9: 50

“when do you want us to sue them y/n?” mr. jung questioned, rotating his walking stick by the wooden head.

Sitting on the sofa, just beside him, you wondered why you were always so conscious of all the eyes directed at you. or maybe you were distracting yourself from answering the man. Among all the things, his way of showing his care was not settling in.

one amusing revelation was that Jaehyun's father, mr. jung or senior jung, as hyuck called them, was the only person with the capacity of putting a noose around all the valiant necks that were ever present in the house. The wrinkles of old age held enough authority to shut each and every young mouth, including yours even though you kept your quiet.

And he adored everyone, johnny, yuta and haechan among his favourites of course. He was also persistent and you were struggling with coming up with an answer because of this very trait. He kept asking you and your eyes remained transfixed on the papers bunched up in your hands, that were shoved into your hands upon your arrival. They opened the chapters you always had doubt about but no corroboration.

You had no home, the reason you were sent into that orphanage in the first place. The little kid that witnessed her parent’s death in front of her eyes didn’t understand why her parents took so long to wake up or why they never did when she waited for so long hiding among strangers or despite having a home, why she was sent to a place where she knew no one. There was no answer to why you never saw your uncle and aunt again and why they never came to take you back. As you grew up, you gave up on them. the car crash had crushed every relation you had with the home you once dearly loved and now you were conflicted with the new information that was thrown your way. your uncle and aunt were under illegal possession of the house that allegedly belonged to your father and after his demise, to you. but what would you gain by going back? Bricks and cement could never compensate or alleviate the pain that you had learned to live with. Even with law on your side, tormenting them would be of no benefit to you. So you said what you had decided years ago.

“I-I don’t want to sue them.” you replied meekly, eyes still fixated on the thread holding the legal papers together.

A sound of disapproval caught your ears as mr. jung spoke against your decision,

“no y/n. Those leeches abandoned you to rot in an orphanage and are living comfortably with insurances and the house that belongs to you. all that money could have been used for your future. You don’t need to be afraid of them. kun would provide you the finest lawyers and within two hearings, they would be in jail for committing fraud and trespass. And as a lawyer yourself, you should know better than to let them go off like this.”

Everybody heard but no one spoke.

“no.” you raised your head to face him and swallowed hard before continuing, “I do not want to meet them”

“don’t you want to go back there? that’s your home.” Somewhere from your left, Johnny spoke.

“never.” You refused immediately. “the people who live there were never my family. They never wanted me a part of their family. I’m clearly not their blood. The people who adopted me are not alive anymore. Those who loved me left me years ago. For a ridiculous sum of money, they didn’t even say their goodbyes to me. I was left there thinking that maybe one day someone would come. But money wins over love. It always does. And i don’t give a shit about them. I have learned to live on my own. I never needed their love. And I certainly don’t want more of their hatred.”

Inhaling sharply, you spat your speech in a single breath. Your words weren’t emotionless still you didn’t feel them like others did.

“I think we should bury this matter.” this time your voice was polite.

They nodded.

Mr. jung, however, wasn’t done.

“Okay so no one would mention this but keep these papers with you. you never know when this might come handy. After all, you are the sole owner of those properties your father left. Now you see, we grease the palms of officers so we can escape the shit we create for ourselves but people like your family are worse than the devil hi-

Multiple coughs halted his train of words. His breather was immediately fished out of his pocket and handed over to him. once he regained his senses, he begin again,

“never mind. Family must be protected y/n and those who fail to do so slaps the most precious value away from them. it’s not necessary that you should cherish something when it’s really out of your reach. at least i can die peacefully knowing that you all would settle down finally. If yuta can leave his chaser personality to find love, there’s hope for everyone here and speaking of yuta, when he’s arriving?”

“in two hours”

Your eyes widened and a hiccup escaped your throat. You voiced out a hum of surprise, gathering everyone’s attention.

“You weren’t told?”

You football sized eyeballs told mr. jung that you certainly weren’t aware.

“I guess I just spoiled a surprise then. Forgive me, I'm old and I am also hungry. Show some courtesy to your guests and feed me and y/n.”

Hyuck jabbed at him before they all got up to run for their seats in the dining room. “You are old. Why do you even need to eat anymore. Go to himalayas, eat snow and acquire some peace. That’s what old people should do!”

Everyone seemed too occupied with their bickering to pay you any mind so you dragged a reluctant taeil to his room, demanding answers for the latest drama they had launched in your name.

"I'm so sorry about that. The day after reception at the office, uncle suddenly asked about your family and that got me curious too so I ended up searching in deep and that led me to this whole discovery. I swear i never meant to breach your privacy y/n." Taeil pleaded in a low whisper as he locked the knob.

"Why would he do that though?"

"He's just too sensitive when it comes to families. He even told me to find your real parents but I got no luck there because you were adopted from an open adoption center from a different country. I found no information on them but I'm sorry about that." His ramble was again reduced to a murmur..

Playing with your fingers, you signed heavily before replying,

"Thank you for your effort but you should have asked me first.”

"Did you perhaps know anything about their schemes?"

"Right since I learnt about the adoption laws. I couldn't have been adopted without a security registered under my name. Maybe that property was the house where they are living right now"

"I'm sor-

"When were you going to tell me about that little whiny bitch? He's coming back in a few hours? I have to live with him again? " Scrunching up your nose in disgust, you bellowed.

"Yeah. He and taeyong had a long love chat yesterday. He was indeed being dramatic so i wonder what happened between them that he agreed. But he's coming back yeah. It was inevitable anyway. I don't know how you want to approach this but I'd say don't choose conflict. Eventually you have to live together so why try to break each other's necks. I've said this before and I'd say it again he-

"He's not that bad? I don't understand how easily you forget that I'm in this predicament because of that man. How can you expect me to make peace with that fucking piece of shit who had his gun pointed to my head since very first day?"

"Are we that insufferable?"

"Don't change the topic"

"I'm not changing it.You said predicament. We are also part of it right. Do you really hate us that much?"

Your eyes softened, reflecting his tone. No, they were just mildly bearable. And no, there wasn't any need to admit it either.

"Taeil, you sound like the voice of reason here. Taeyong seems fishy too but he's too unpredictable. He's like a chameleon. Others don't seem to have any power in your stupid hierarchy I've come to notice so it's you right? You are the one who told taeyong to marry me to that poopface and spare my life. It is definitely you.” staring him right in the eye, you pointed your forefinger at him.

"Please do me a favour and don’t use your brain too much y/n. I already have too much on my plate. I don’t need another one. If you don’t want our uncle to die due to a heart attack caused by your and yuta’s actions, stay shut. Now let’s eat before they gobble down everything.”

Our uncle! Yeah sure, you thought.

14:00

Standing alone in the kitchen, fidgeting with your hands, you tried your best to eavesdrop but nothing coherent met your ears. You indeed expected the army of men to have a party when their estranged soldier would arrive but the welcome outside sounded more like a hue and cry. The screaming indicated anything but happiness.

Your dilemma ended when you heard your name being called, the voice belonging to senior jung. You couldn't understand why he loved shouting when clearly his lungs couldn't take anything in higher volume.

Walking into the living room, you saw everyone seated in a very civilian manner but their conversation was difficult to hear amidst the babble.

“Come sit” Mark, who had gone to fetch yuta from the airport, spoke.

As you took the seat next to taeil, your eyes fell on the raven haired man and met his own. If his blonde hair shrieked peril, the black softened all the darkness his previous hair projected. Mayhaps, it was the black rimmed glasses he wore. You didn’t even know he had eyesight issues. He looked different.

He might have looked non-barbaric for a few seconds but his intense eye roll with the twitched lips upon meeting your eyes caused you to scowl. That’s when you noticed the elbow crutch on his left arm leaning against his outstretched leg. Nothing seemed wrong. You sized up his both legs with a crease of confusion forming on your forehead. You might have been looking too hard for your unasked doubt was answered by none other than yuta himself.

“I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.”

You scrunch your nose at the politeness that dripped from his lips, the honeyed words clearly in contrast from the uneasiness he felt while uttering them. Though the words were directed at you, he never regarded you directly and you weren’t sure how one was supposed to act in such a pretentious setting.

“No, definitely not a scratch.” Mr. Jung interrupted your internal unrest, interpreting your silence to be worry for the boy. “His left thigh is bandaged so it needs a lot of care. You might need to take some days off given how much movement hurt him. and you! I know you don’t want to worry her but lying around won’t work. she can’t tend to you unless she knows where you need care.”

He mildly instructed him as you found yourself staring at yuta’s brown cargo pants which hid whatever injury was being mentioned. The said words were dodged by your ears even before they’d have entered. The problem laid with the response that was expected of you. you couldn’t have possibly replied to him your true intentions that included ducking every wifey duties you were supposed to fulfil but like everyone else and as taeil had explained, you didn’t want the blood of an old man on your hands so you just played along.

“yes.”

That was enough for playing, you decided. Your quietness, for the first time won't be subjected to judgement as the dejection was expected.

“I think you both should go home now. I have some business to sort out here.” he got up and walked past you, not before petting your hair lovingly. He also smacked yuta on his head and mumbled something on the lines of how he should have enjoyed his last overseas trip and whatnot.

Once he, taeil and taeyong were out of sight, chatter started again. hovering over yuta, they dropped questions like he was in some interview and you remained seated, waiting for their next request they were possibly going to annoy you with.

“did you like france?”

“what the fuck! you didn’t tell me about the hair colour. Now I want to change mine too!” that was ten.

“why are you wearing pants if your thighs hurt?”

“I’m sorry for laughing at you earlier.”

Right when you thought you were specialising in drowning the sounds, Johnny's voice caused you to jerk your head towards them. Not the voice, maybe the question he asked!

“dude! Where did you exactly fall from? The room is on the ground floor and your work didn’t even require you to switch places. How can you break your leg while monitoring the local cells?”

Only two sentences were needed for the laughter to escape the confines of your stomach and the realisation that you actually thought about a bullet or a knife being the reason of the harm only elevated the amusement you felt. understandably, you became the center of their attention.

“who the fuck are you laughing at?” yuta sneered.

“you.”

The twisted bitter smirk on yuta's face told you that he still needed some good time getting used to your unfiltered tendencies but by the suppressed snickers that chenle and hyuck let out, their voices recognisable to you by now, you were sure at least a few of them were enjoying your jabs as much as you did.

"Fuck off." He finally barked, breaking the harsh eye contact.

"Happily!" You remarked, raising yourself from the cushioned seat.

"Where are you going y/n?" Intersected jungwoo.

"Home. Tell mr.jung that college called. It's Saturday so I've to visit the library anyway."

"Wait I'll drop you both."

Glaring at Johnny, you wordlessly challenged him to repeat what he said.

"Yes. You and him are not leaving alone. Uncle is still here. God forbid if he decides to stay the night, we won't have answers for him." He rather whispered to you.

"That sounds like a problem for you. My pact was over as soon as I saw that face. And I can guarantee you the feelings are more than mutual from that side too." Rolling your eyes towards yuta, you said.

"No no no! You can't do that yet!" Johnny came closer and continued his whispering, "please y/n. I promise he'd behave. Uncle did so much for you, can you help us this one last time? And yuta was returning anyway. If not today, then four days later. Please? You'd do that for me right?"

Sometime while talking, his fingers had found your hand and you weren't sure if he was aware of it or not.

But you were. And that had caused a little temperature problem in your whole body as you felt warmness enveloping your whole being.

And it seemed like your ears had stopped working too.

"Y/n! Are you hearing me?"

"Are you fine?"

His hand on your cheek broke your trance and your eyes darted away to look at his eyes, finding the same worry in them. Why was he so genuine, you thought.

"Are you sick?"

He questioned again, to which you only stuttered.

"No. I'm fine john. What were you saying though?"

"I said yuta needs to go back home. Please. He can't stay here even if we don't want him to be alone."

Somehow, you found yourself mindlessly nodding at his words. A cheeky contagious smile appeared on Johnny's lips, your own slightly curving on both sides. He backed away after caressing your face, the action more noticeable to others than he probably had intended.

"Let's get you home baby boy." Johnny snickered at yuta earning a slap from him.

"Fuck off bitch. At least feed me something before I leave. I'm hungry!" He screeched, hitting Johnny's leg with the end of his stick.

"What about the jjajangmyun you had in the car? How can you still be hungry?” Mark chirped up innocently.

"Oh come on. Don't make excuses.I'll bring some food in the evening." Johnny offered when yuta was busy giving a stink eye to mark.

"I too need some compensatory food john.”

“What the fuck do you mean compensatory? You live in that house because of me! Don’t imply yourself as the owner of that place!” you rolled your eyes for the nth time at yuta’s words, dismissing his words with the action.

“Why dont you donate your eyeballs to someone like me who can actually make better use of them. Instead of rolling them to the back all the time, I shall happily play tennis with them.”

“If my habits annoy you that much then why are you going back to breathe the same air as me. I’d be more than happy if i don't have to see your cursed face daily!”

“Stop you both.” Johnny's back shielded your view as he spoke. “He’s still here! Renjun, go and run a checkup for him and tell me how bad his leg is in actuality or is he just crying like a baby.”

In defeat, you sat down again. Fifteen minutes passed and despite being sleepy, you tried your best to listen to donghyuck’s ramble of something that jeno did the other day. All you heard was how jungwoo and jeno had a fight over piggyback rides and after that every word was transformed into a chant of word sleep as it hit your ears. Though it was early afternoon, the whole week had been nothing but tiring.

Once again your relaxation time was robbed off by none other than yuta. Maybe this was the end of your peaceful days.

Hopping off, you hurriedly whisked away before Johnny and Jungwoo could say anything to you. Two men were enough for towing the baggage.

As you stripped yourself off your jeans, an exhausted cackle left your lips when Johnny's words echoed in your head. During the car journey, he gave you some instructions in case of some emergency. That emergency being yuta! Not that you were going to put up with any of yuta’s demands, you listened to them anyway. Amusingly, yuta wasn't injured due to falling from stairs. He was getting drunk on the roof of a random building when he had launched himself into a sharp edge of a railing that gave him stitches all over his left thigh. Now he was as good as an exhausted car freshener.

As they settled him down, you didn’t bother going out even for a second. Choosing sleep over your much needed trip to the library, you tucked yourself into white sheets as the light breaths from air con lulled you to sleep.

17:00

Sitting in the library, your fountain pen ran along the plain pages like you were writing a well known story and not your thesis. The words were flowing like water and you felt no difficulty as you finished pages with the speed of light. Everything was going smoothly. You felt happy. And suddenly your hand stopped moving. It was glued to a single point, the nib leaking out on that spot. Next moment, your thoughts were muddled and a distant shuffling distracted you. The more you tried to move your wrist, the more forceful the noise became. Your breathing got heavier and your body jammed, the whole weight punching onto the weak muscles of the hand.

Your attempts never stopped but the noise did and it transformed into loud thumping coming right from your heart.

You tried to inhale but something stopped you.

Then you heard the calls of your name.

Rapid and loud.

Your body jerked forward and your breath finally returned as your eyes opened.

You had woken up from a dream. You were still in your room and the loud thumping was the loud banging on your door.

“y/n! Are you sleeping?”

Registering his words, you replied in a groggy voice.

“What the fuck do you want?”

“Your phone. I left mine in the medical room. I need to call Mark right now.”

Whining loudly, you fell back on the bed. It was only due but flailing your arms and legs like a kid in a toy store, you let out a screech full of annoyance, cursing on your fate.

Were you really going to babysit him now?

****

Stay safe everyone. 2021 is just 2020 with a change of pajamas���wear your mask and force others too🌝

[backtobackbakubabe]

I am the Alpha Now Part 14

Bakugo X Reader

Words: 2194

Masterlist

Reader is from America and somewhat of a delinquent with an alpha quirk that allows her to turn into a wolf as well as bond with dogs. She is sent to UA to straighten out her attitude. She ends up in a power struggle with none other than our favorite hot head. Words in Italics are words said telepathically.

“Wait, wait, wait… Shigaraki? As in the leader of the League of Villains and YOUR BOSS! That Shigaraki?”

Dabi’s grip tightened on the wheel, “You know I’m starting to question how smart the kids at UA really are? YES! That Shigaraki.” His eyes shifted to his mirrors as if to check they weren’t being followed. “He’s been a pain in my ass lately… He’s always been twisted and ambitious. But now he’s… I don’t know he’s unhinged. He’s gotten sloppy and I’m tired of cleaning up after him.”

You could feel the panic bubbling in your stomach. You rolled your window down and took in a huge gulp of fresh air, trying to settle your nerves.

Dabi scoffed, “Hey where did the ‘I’ll go feral and kill you all’, crazy bitch go? You look like you’re ready to puke all over my car.”

You closed your eyes as you continued to breathe through your panic. “Why do you even need me? Don’t you have some badass cremation quirk? Just light the dude on fire and call it a day. I don’t see where I play into all of this.”

A tense silence fell over the car, but you could hear Dabi speeding up. “Look I wouldn’t expect you to understand right now, but I have a role to play just like everyone else. Believe me I would love nothing more than to watch as that dusty fuck turned into a pile of ash. Hell, I’d probably roast marshmallows over it. But for many reasons that are none of your fucking business… I can’t.”

You finally found the nerve to turn to look at him. “I still don’t see why you need me to do it. From what I understand, long distance attacks have the most success with him, and I specialize in close combat. How am I supposed to fight him if I can’t let him touch me?”

Dabi was whipping the car into a parking garage now, the shadows taking over his features. “You heal right? I saw it with my own eyes. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen. I tested it earlier in the alley after you passed out. I saw how quickly your head was healing so I tried to cremate one of your fingers.”

Your eyes almost bugged out of your sockets, which caused Dabi to roll his. “What? Don’t give me that look. I’m a villain… I beat you unconscious and kidnapped you and all that’s what makes you mad? You don’t even need all ten fingers!” He parked his car and grabbed your wrist and pulled your hand up to your face. “Look you’re fine. It regenerated almost as quickly as I could burn it.”

You ripped your wrist from his grasp. Rubbing the spot his fingers had just been. “Just because it worked with your quirk doesn’t mean it’ll work with his. I’m not invincible.” You shuddered as the memories of being tortured start to stir in your mind.

He could see the hesitation in your eyes. “I need to make something clear. While I don’t necessarily mean you any harm… I also don’t give a fuck about your well-being. So, this…” He gestured to your pained expression. “Needs to stop. Because I don’t care. You may not be invincible… but you are expendable. You bite the dust, we’ll just recruit someone else. Maybe even your boyfriend.”

You froze. What did he mean by we?

Dabi got out of the car and came around to your side and opened your door. You looked around the parking garage behind him, looking for an accomplice. “Are you going to get out on your own, or are you going to make me drag you?”

You couldn’t see, hear, or smell anyone besides Dabi. So, you slowly stepped out of the car, all the while flipping him off. “I’d love to see you try asshole. Lay a hand on me and I’ll pin you down and pull out every single one of those stupid staples one by one with my teeth.”

Dabi leaned forward so his eyes where level with yours, “Don’t tempt me with a good time.”

Before you could even say anything another presence suddenly filled your senses. One moment it was just you a Dabi and the next someone was there behind him.

“Easy you two. As much as I would love to watch, we kind of need to get somewhere private.” You looked at the familiar man with the red wings. He gave you a sad smile, “There are a lot of people looking for you kid.” He gestured towards the elevator and you and Dabi followed. The man looked over his shoulder at Dabi, “Including your dad. Apparently he was ready to give her a job. He’s not too thrilled.”

Dabi growled, “More reason for me to keep her.”

You kicked at the back of his knee making him fall as you stepped around him into the elevator. “I am not, and never will be your fucking pet. I am an Alpha.” Your eyes glowed as your fury of being treated like a plaything grew.

The man standing next to you whistled, “Damn, I knew you were intense but that was probably the best thing I’ve seen all month. But I guess you’d have to be a little aggressive to deal with Bakugo every day.”

You tried not to react to hearing your boyfriends name, but your heart pounded. He knew Katsuki? You wondered if he knew if he was okay…

You gave him a harsh glare, “Who the fuck are you and how do you know Bakugo?”

It was Dabi’s turn to chuckle now at the man’s shocked expression. “Just a ray of sunshine isn’t she bird brain?”

The blonde man made room for Dabi in the elevator before pushing a button. His attention returned to you, “You seriously don’t recognize me? I’m a pro hero. Number two to be exact.” You stared back blankly and shrugged. His eyes widened, “Oh come on! I’m Hawks…”

You maintained a bored expression, “Nice to meet you… what are you doing here with an LOV member number two pro hero Hawks…”

You watched him squirm a little, but he soon wore a dazzling smile, “We go way back. Best friends some people might say. Not him, but someone I’m sure.”

The doors to the elevator closed and you could feel your anxiety starting up again. You were trapped between two strange men, who could probably kill you if they really wanted to. Hawks could see your tension and made an effort to trade places with you, putting you closer to the door and away from Dabi.

As soon as the door opened you stepped out. Welcoming the cool air conditioning tethering you to reality and keeping your anxiety at bay. You’ve been kidnapped before. You were doing everything you could to keep those memories buried.

Hawks lead you to a room that needed a key card and a six digit code to get in. Once the door closed behind you, you stiffened. You could feel your nails grow out to claws and your teeth sharpen to a point. They may not be trying to hurt you right now. But that could change at any moment.

Dabi took one look at you clawed hand and sighed, “I need a drink if we’re going to be behaving like this. Be right back.” He gave you a curious glance, “You want anything?”

You shook your head, not trusting your voice not to give away your subtle anxiety.

As soon as Dabi was out of earshot you pulled Hawks to you, “You never told me how you know Katsuki…. Do you know if he’s okay? He hasn’t done anything stupid has he?”

Hawks groaned, “We had to send out a search party for him. Lucky for us it’s kind of hard to stay stealthy in the middle of downtown with a giant fucking wolf dog.”

Your eyes burned into his, “So he’s okay then? Someone keeping an eye on him?”

Hawks patted your tense shoulder, “Physically, yeah… he’s fine. But you leaving like you did really did a number on him. He wouldn’t come back to UA without kicking and screaming the whole way. Kept saying shit like, ‘I can’t feel her’ , ‘somethings wrong’ he wouldn’t even listen to his red headed friend. What his name, the hard guy?”

“Kirishima?”

“Yeah! Him. It wasn’t pretty. He’s a wreck.”

Your heart ached. Not only as his girlfriend, but as an Alpha. Your instincts are screaming at you right now. Your only job is to protect your pack. He’s hurting. Mercy is hurting. And you are the reason why.

You walked away before Hawks could see the tear spilling over your cheek. You stepped to the window trying to get a better idea of your surroundings. Even though you had absolutely no idea where you were. You took a deep breath and slowly opened up the bond.

*******Bakugo’s POV***********

“No you don’t understand she’s not just gone, she’s fucking GONE! I can’t feel her anymore.” Bakugo paced back and forth in his room. Mercy sat on his bed, his eyes following him but saying nothing besides the occasional whimper. “We’re literally bonded now. I’m supposed to be able to feel her Kiri. I’m supposed to be able to instinctively now that she’s okay. And now it’s gone. There’s just a fucking void. She’s gone… I can’t find her. Neither can Mercy.” He ran his hands through his hair for the hundredth time. Keeping his frantic hands busy. “He said she could have turned it off…. Or she… she could be… she could be fucking dead! None of you seem to care!”

Kiri put his hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down, “Hey man, we’re going to find her okay. We just need you to calm down first.”

“CALM DOWN?! How the hell am I SUPPOSED TO CALM DOWN?! Did you not just hear what I said?”

Bakugo slumped to the floor and leaned against the end of his bed, letting Mercy put his head next to his. “We have to believe she’s okay. If not it’s going to drive us crazy. Look on the plus side. We are bonded to each other through her. If she were dead, wouldn’t our bond have died as well. As long as you can hear me I have to assume she’s alive.”

Bakugo reached up and started petting Mercy, “I hope you’re right about that. What happened last time… when she you know…?”

Mercy gave Bakugo’s cheek a quick lick, “The last time she died… I could feel the stress her body was under and then it was gone. Right now it feels almost like a closed door. The bond is still there, we just can’t use it. Then it felt like a brick wall. It wasn’t just her presence that was gone, the whole bond disappeared too. It was terrifying.”

There was a ringing in Bakugo’s ears. Had it been there long? Was his hearing deteriorating without you there to take care of him. Was there something wrong with the bond? Was there something wrong with you? The ringing grew louder and louder until it consumed him. He clutched his hands in his hair and yelled for it to stop. Tears pricked at his eyes as his breathing got shorter. He was on the verge of one of the scariest panic attacks he had ever had and then all the sudden his chest burst open with warmth.

He was bombarded with soothing thoughts and a happy relaxed buzz. He tried to grip it for dear life. This was you. He knew it was. He reached out the way you taught him, and he tried to find you. He got a quick glimpse of a cityscape through what looked like a window. But before he could figure out where you were it was turned off again.

He felt like he had been sucker punched. Kiri was looking at him like he had lost his mind. “Hey… are you okay. I know you can like talk to Mercy and stuff. But it still freaks me out. Then one moment your raging, then the next your crying, and then out of nowhere you look completely blissed out…” Kirishima sat next to Bakugo looking concerned. “I’m worried about you. You seem a little… unstable.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever we can talk about it later in therapy.” Bakugo pushed Kiri to the side and looked at Mercy, “You felt that right? That’s a good sign, right?”

Mercy barked and jumped towards the door, “She’s alive alright, and she wanted us to know it. From what I could tell she was unharmed. A little stressed out, but otherwise healthy. I couldn’t figure out where she was though. How about you?”

Bakugo was grabbing his hero gear and rushing towards the door. “Not a one hundred percent sure. But I have a decent idea of the general area.” He looked at a shocked Kiri who was still on the floor. “You gonna come help me save my girl or what?”

*****************************************

Tags :

@tspice283 , @realityisoftendisapointing , @imbi-101 , @thoughtfulpandazine2 , @hotarumorikawa , @huh-iwasntpayingattention , @starfishlovingbnha , @weebnumber3622 , @mixedfeeelings , @munchmunch01 , @inumorph @xxoperatexx @runrabbitrun3

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

What a Time to be Alive - Diego Hargreeves x Reader

Chapter 2- The Frankel Footage

Summary: After receiving a surprise visit from Five, you quit your bar tending job, quickly followed him to find Diego, and then broke Diego out of the mental hospital all in one day. Now you, Diego, and Lila, are free and ready to tackle whatever new problem awaits.

If anyone else wants tagged just hit me up.      Tagged: @white-wolf-buckaroo

You three ran for a couple blocks out of sight and away from any nosy law enforcement officers and their annoying sirens. Through back ally’s and down side streets, until you came upon a cluster of parked cars. Where you three hid behind trying not to be seen.

“This way” Diego whispers while getting up to race across the street, you and Lila trailing after him.

Hiding behind an apartment building, you and Lila look back from where you just came. “All right, we can’t stay here for too long. They’re gonna be looking for us.” Diego quietly warns.

“The cops or those large Scandinavian fellas” Lila asks, still on lookout.

“Both” you say quickly, turning to follow Diego’s lead.

He suddenly jumps up on a dumpster then on top of an outhouse type building. “D, what are you doing?” You ask confused, not quite catching onto his plans just yet.

Grabbing clothes off the line and throwing them to you, he replies, “Me and you aren’t gonna get very far dressed like a lobotomy case.”

“Fair point”

“Hey what about me?” Asks Lila, as Diego jumps down off of the small shed, walking back over to the two of you, and quickly throwing her some clothes in the process.

Diego turns around while taking off his shirt, “Look, I appreciate your help, but now we...” He points to you for a second, who’s changing into a different shirt, from the previous hospital staff attire. “Go our separate ways.”

“Why?”

“Because they’re gonna be looking for us, together. You stand a better chance on your own.”

“What, you guys need me, we could make a good team, I don’t mind third wheeling.”

“No”

“Okay did you forget how great I am at causing distractions, or sneaking in small weapons, or when I saved your ass when...” Police sirens begin shouting through the air, cutting her off mid-sentence, catching all of your attentions with it. Sending a surge of panic through you, there was no way in hell were you getting caught.

“Oh shit” Lila whispers, turning to abruptly dodge under a car and out of sight like a literal ninja, who is this strange woman?

Looking at Diego you happen to spot a hiding place behind a small pillar of bricks. Grabbing his arms once again, you pull him with you towards the spot, hugging him tightly as you look over his shoulder. Hearing the whrr of a siren, you listen and watch as the cop car rolls past, agonizingly slow. Looking up at him once again, you can’t help but notice the close proximity between the two of you, your face breaks out into a large grin. Relishing in the contact that you’ve been so deeply deprived of.

“Is that a knife in your pants or are you just happy to see me?” You ask while flashing him a cheeky smile.

“Why are you like this?” He whispers grinning back down at you, amused at your never ending ability to joke around at the most inappropriate times.

“Hey guys, let’s take my car.” Lila says, while eyeing up one of the parked on the street.

Looking back into Diego’s dark eyes, you swiftly catch his lips with yours, not being able hold yourself back anymore. He tenses for a split second before he melts into you, relaxing completely. The kiss is sweet, hungry, and full of longing. You can both tell how much you’ve truly missed each other.

Breaking away, Diego follows your lips, disappointed in such a small intimate moment being ruined. “We gotta go, our getaway driver is here.” You beam, satisfied with what you could get.

Jumping into the stolen car, you take the passenger seat making Diego sit in the back.

“Let’s roll kids” Lila says grinning, as she hastily backs out of the parking spot.

——

After sleeping in the front seat next to Lila, and Diego grumpily trying to find a comfy position in the back. You three made it through the night and are now currently up and ready to roll. Diego in the passenger seat now, with you at the wheel and Lila in the back. Parked in front of some library that Diego insisted on going to you as you could only assume it had to do with the president, most likely.

“All right, here’s the plan: Oswald finishes his shift at 4:30 p.m. Once he walks out those doors, we force him into the front seat.” Diego tells you, while looking out the window intensely.

“I’m in the front seat” You reply while looking out at some birds eating something in the grass.

“Okay, fine. In the back seat.”

“I’m in the back seat.” Lila says, also unimpressed by Diego’s plan. She makes knowing eye contact with you in the mirror.

“Okay in the trunk, Y/N is gonna pin his arms, I’m gonna cut off his trigger finger and tell him he has 24 hours to exit Dallas.”

“That’s your plan?” Lila asks. Sharing another glance with you.

“You got a problem with it?” He questions sassily.

“Why don’t we just kill him” You say with a casual shrug.

“What?

“I agree with Y/N, I mean, you think he’s gonna shoot the president right?”

“Right”

“Fine, so we kill him. Put a bullet between his eyes.” She says, as you make a finger gun and a boom sound. “Problem solved”

“No, no, no, we’re not going to kill a man before he’s committed a crime.” He says, annoyed.

“That’s stupid” She retorts back, tired of Diego’s dumb idea already.

“Excuse me?”

“In fact, your whole plan is stupid. What, chopping off a guys finger?” She smiles amused.

“No, it’s not just any finger, it’s his trigger finger, all right. You can’t shoot a gun without a trigger finger.” He says defensively.

“What if he’s ambidextrous?” You ask, egging him on.

Diego looks at you in defeat at both of yours and Lila’s points. She finally says, “How do you get through a day?

“Both of you get out. I can do this on my own.” He grumbles quickly.

“Dr. Moncton was right, this hero complex is no joke. I mean, Y/N how do you even put up with his shit.” She wonders turning to you.

“Don’t answer that. This is not what this is about.” He’s says, you laughing at his sour mood and Lila’s call out.

“D, she makes a compelling argument.”

Nodding at you she quips back, “Of course it is, you want to prove to Daddy that you’re a big success.” She says, realization clear on her features.

Snorting you raise your eyebrows at Diego, who says, “No, out of the three of us, you don’t know anything about me, Lila.”

“I don’t have to be Y/N to know anything about you. You are an open book written for very dumb children.” She says matter-of-factly.

Holding in laughter you face away from Diego, as you peer out the window so he won’t see the amusement clear on your face.

You love Diego, and fight crime with Diego, but you don’t do it out of a hero complex like he does. You do it because it’s fun and it helps people sometimes. You’ve never seeked it out in the way that he did, like buying a patrol caller, walking into crime scenes to gather information, and continuously wearing that stupidly adorable childhood domino mask. You prefer to stay in the shadows and hunt down rapists and human traffickers when the opportunity arises. So yeah, Lila calling out Diego on his shit, that he doesn’t realize is his shit, does entertain you.

“I’m not. Trying. To. Be A. Hero, okay!” He says slowly with frustration lacing his voice, like we can’t understand him.

“Then why are we doing this?” You reply facing him again. All of a sudden Five appears in the back seat next to Lila, who screams and backs away. Clearly not expecting a 13 year old boy to just teleport randomly into the car.

“Because he’s an idiot” Five replies smartly, with a smug grin on his young face.

Calming down again she looks at Five confused, “Who the hell are you, I mean Diego did tell me Y/N is kinda like a vampire but not really a vampire, so?”

Giving Diego your what-the-fuck-did-you-tell-her-about-me face, he briefly grins at you when Five answers her, “Hi. I’m his loving brother.”

“Who left me to rot in a nut house.”

“To protect you from yourself.”

“That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to him, I’m gonna cry.” You reply, while wiping a fake tear away.

Rolling his eyes Diego points to the three of you, “Okay, all of you, out.” Diego says done with all of your shit.

“Lose the crazy lady, you two are coming with me. We have important business.” Five says frustrated.

Diego turns to look out the front window. “I am not going anywhere with you.”

Looking out the window, Five spots a security guard walking down the street. “Okay, fine.”

Not buying into Five’s surrender, you follow his gaze seeing the officer walking away from all of you. With a big smile plastered on his face, Five takes this moment of improvisation to call out loudly. “Officer!”

“Hey!” Diego snaps, reaching past you in record time, silencing Five by grabbing his jacket. “What are you doing?”

Grinning like the little shit he is, Five answers sassily, “I hear there’s a reward out for you two, and an unidentified jailbreaker accomplice last seen helping two patients escape.”

“He’s bluffing.” Lila says.

Watching the intense stare down between the two of them you reply, “He’s not.” Knowing better then to doubt Five. Cause let’s be honest he would watch you get arrested for fun any day of the week.

“Fine. We’ll go with you.” He says defeated yet again.

“What about me?” Lila asks.

“She yells at Diego when he’s being an idiot, crazy lady can come too.” You tell them while nodding to her.

“You yell at me when I’m being an idiot too, Y/N.” Diego remarks bluntly.

“That’s fair. But I feel like she’s good at playing eye spy, and you’re definitely not. You have no patience, I swear.”

“I don’t know what I just got myself into but I’m glad I met you guys.” Lila exclaims enthusiastically, pleased at your positive answer.

--

A short drive later, you, Diego, Five and Lila begin walking up the steps into Five’s new friends building. Not being overly impressed by much and concerned for this mans mental well being at the fact that he’s Five’s so-called “friend”, you keep walking as Five leads you three up the stairs. When you reach the top, you hear footsteps and the sound of a gun click. Glancing up, you observe a scrawny looking man with confusion and fight in his eyes. He starts to speak all stressed out and loud, barking at you four. “Where did you get the film? The Frankel Footage. The truth this time.” He demands while still holding up the gun at the four of you. Oh yeah, this is Five’s new friend? Seems about right.

“You know this lunatic?” Diego wonders at Five.

“God, his hearts beating so loud, I’m gonna have a headache.” You groan, this guy is on full adrenaline, jeesh.

Five sighs, “New acquaintance. He’s harmless.”

“Are you sure about that?” Lila asks, puzzled.

Without warning this new friend of Five’s starts to yell, sounding like an off cord scratchy violin in your hyper sensitive ears. A quiet room with sudden loud noises makes your hearing extra perceptive. It’s not exactly a beneficial attribute to have at the moment.

“Are you or are you not an enemy of the people?!”

Giving you a precious moment of peace, Diego answers back. “Such an open-ended question, yeah.”

“Really depends on the people.” Adds Five calmly.

Raising the gun up higher the angry guy speaks again, less loud this time. “You move one more muscle, I will blow y’alls brains out.”

“Yeah good luck with that, you’ll deeply regret it in a couple seconds.” You tell him bluntly as he gives you a weird look.

“You want to take this or should I?” Diego asks Five. Always ready to throw hands at any given moment.

“No, I got him.” He replies with apprehensive determination.

An abrupt flash later, Five is in front of the mysteriously angry gunman. Grabbing the gun and pushing the barrel upward where it then goes off. Shooting a bullet into the ceiling. And sending a symphony of booming racket directly into your ears.

“Fucking hell” You mumble while pursing your lips together as the pain in your ears wears off.

Looking back up, you watch as Diego unloads the gun and the crazy southern guy looks at everyone in confusion.

“What the hell just happened?” Lila asks with an amused smile, clearly not expecting anything more weird to take place again.

——

After the fun little greeting Elliot gave you, you and Diego tied him up, you know just normal couple things. So Five could play some home movies, or in other words that Frankel Footage Elliot was yapping about earlier. Leaving him in a dentist’s chair, Lila sat down and started to paint his toe nails some kind of green color. While Five was playing the old film footage, Diego sat on a counter to his left, knees up and knife in one hand. Meanwhile you sat cross legged on the same counter near his shoes leaning your right knee on Diego’s bent legs.

“I love old couples. I’m always so proud of them for not murdering each other.” She says randomly.

“Why are we watching this?” Diego suddenly asks Five, who’s intensely focused on the footage. “Shush” He’s tells him, hyper focused on the projection screen.

The people on the screen begin talking about who they are and where they happen to be at the moment. Dallas, Texas. November 22, 1963. Oh, shit. You think, knowing exactly where this specific moment is going to lead.

Leaning in closer Diego says, “This is it. The grassy knoll. Kennedy’s about to get shot. How do you have this?” He quickly questions Five.

“Hazel died to get me this footage. It must be the key to stopping doomsday.”

“Hazel?” You ask curiously, remembering the masked guy who shanked you with an old iron antique boat when you first met him and Cha Cha shooting up the Umbrella Academy. Damn, he’s already dead.

“Long story.”

“What’s doomsday?” Wonders Lila in confusion.

“Longer story.”

“What exactly did he say to you?” Diego questions in bewilderment.

“Well, he was killed before he could explain. But whatever he wanted us to see, it’s on this film.” He answers earnestly.

Without warning, gunshots go off in the background, signaling that President Kennedy's been shot. All of you watch closer with wide eyes as you three try to spot what Hazel was talking about. Five rewinds the tape for better inspection, moving around to slide the projector back. Giving everyone a better view to watch the footage. “It can’t be.” He says astonished.

“Okay, you guys gonna fill me in now? What the hell is this shit we’re watching?” Demands Lila, weirded out by how the three of you are acting towards this random footage.

Standing up and walking closer to the screen, you, Diego, and Five look on in stunned shock, spotting him. “What the fuck?” You say perplexed.

“No, that’s impossible.” 

“Clearly, it’s not.” Mutters Five.

From behind you three, you hear the muffled voice of Elliot. “What...what is it?”

“Dad” Diego and Five whisper dumbfounded. You only look on in deep thought. How could he have been there, and what the hell was old Reggie doing there in the first place?

——

“Of course Dad would be involved in the assassination. I should have know.”

“No, you’re jumping to conclusions.” Replies Five, while pacing back and forth.

“It’s a bit of a stretch, Diego.” You tell him shrugging.

“What else is he doing standing on the grassy knoll, holding an open umbrella on a sunny day in Dallas the exact same moment the president gets shot?!” Diego yells back at the two of you.

“It doesn’t look good, I admit.” Replies Five.

“No, he’s the signalman for the whole goddamn thing.” He says convincing himself.

“Easy Diego. Seriously.”

“No, it makes sense. This is what Hazel was obviously trying to tell you.” Diego says looking intently at Five. “We have to stop Dad from killing the president.”

“Diego, calm down, all right. Dad was no Boy Scout, but presidential assassination? It’s never been his thing.” Five argues, and you’d have to agree, Diego’s truly jumping ahead of himself.

“How would you know? You skipped out on his golden years.” Diego snaps back.

“Skipped out?” Five scoffed stepping closer, “You think I had it easy, Diego? I was alone for 45 years.” Deciding he’d had enough of Diego’s dad and killing the president shit, Five growls back at Diego. “You know what? We don’t have time for this right now. Dads clearly in Dallas, right? Let’s just go talk to him. Maybe he can help fix the timeline.” He ends with, walking around the room.

“Dallas is a big place. We need to find him first.” Diego replies bluntly.

“Gee, if only we had some magical, old times way of finding people and their addresses.” Five sasses back while putting his hands on his small hips.

“Alright smart-ass, I’ll find the phone book.” You quip, getting up off the counter and walking towards Elliot’s office. Finding the thing laying under a couple of papers and a stapler, you grab it and set it down on the nearby desktop.

“Let’s start simple. His name.” Five says as Diego reads off the names in the H section. “Shit, nothing here.”

“Try his company, what was it Five?” You ask while standing behind them.

“D.S. Umbrella Manufacturing Co.” Five says without missing a beat.

“Yeah, I know the name. Thanks.” Diego replies sarcastically. Continuing his search by flipping through the pages. “Uh....Holy shit. D.S. Umbrella.” He looks at Five surprised, “Eighty-two Olive. Let’s go.” He says, shutting the phone book.

Pulling up the white film screen and walking through the doorway Diego turns to Five. “He okay to leave here like that?” Referring to Elliot who was still tied to the dentist chair.

“Yeah, he’s fine. What about the girl?”

“She’s chilling in the dark room getting some air. So where are we going?” You remark casually.

“The hell is she doing in there, or you?” Diego wonders.

“We were having some quality girl time, nothing you’d be interested in, I promise.” You say winking at him.

———

Pulling up to the building of the hour, you all get out, shutting the doors and walking up to the glass doors. All collectively feeling a bit uneasy about meeting Sir Reginald Hargreeves, that is if he decides to make an appearance or not.

“How long’s it been since you’ve seen the old man?” You ask Five, who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“Forty-Five years.”

“That’s a trip.”

“No kidding.” Five sighs, leaning against the brick wall as Diego makes an attempt to lock pick the doors. “You know, when I was stuck out there in the apocalypse, there wasn’t a day that went by where I didn’t hear his voice in my head.”

“What was he saying?” Asked Diego, still fiddling with the lock.

“I told you so.” 

“Well, if Dad’s here, he’s never met you before, so he can’t say, I told you so.” Diego says trying to boost Five’s dampened mood.

“I’m sure he’ll find a way.” Five says while looking back around at the grassy yard. Catching your eye, you nod to him to help Diego out. A flash later and he’s on the other side of the door, unlocking it with ease and letting you two inside. “Right. Gotta remember that” Diego says, clearing his throat, standing up and walking through the now unlocked glass doors. You following right behind him, as Five holds the door open.

Walking fully inside the office building, Five goes to turn on a lamp only for it to flicker off again within seconds of being turned on. “Shit. Guess Dad wasn’t much for home decor.” Says Diego eyeing up the place.

You look around the room yourself, fully taking in your surroundings, as your eyes immediately begin adjusting in the dark room, you’re now able to see everything clearly. Observing the lack of care and vacancy in the area you nod to Five. “This feels more like a front, some kind of decoy maybe?”

“A front for what?” Diego asks, confused.

“Beats me” Replies Five still uneasy about being in here.

“Well, me and Y/N will take the left. Yell if you, uh....get in trouble. Y/N will hear you.” Remarks Diego, swinging the door open.

“Don’t get shot, remember your safety training.” You smirk at Five jokingly, as you walk through the open door that Diego is holding open for you.

“How could I forget.” Fives replies back, slightly amused at your ability to seem calm in a place like this.

Walking down the hallway, Diego opens a door leading into someone’s office. The air smells old and stale to you, clearly no ones actually been in here in quite a while. Diego blows off dust laying lightly on top of a file, who just leaves a random file lying around for anyone to snatch? He starts to flip through it, concentrated on finding a scrap of evidence. When your ears prick up at the sound of light footsteps that apparently Diego can’t hear yet. Then a door opens and the footsteps sound like they’re retreating out the doorway. Diego abruptly looks up at you for reassurance, wanting to know for sure you heard what he just heard too. You nod at him, making your way towards the door to find this mystery person. Diego walks towards the door hot on your heels, catching up and moving past you swiftly. Determined to catch sight of the cryptic individual himself.

Opening the doors, you catch a glimpse of the mystery man briskly walking into the thick foggy night air and out of sight.

“I’ll go after him, you circle around and hopefully catch him off guard if he decides to run.” Telling you the plans, Diego turns ready to catch up with the guy, giving you a flash of a nervous smile before he goes. And then he’s gone, into the fog and out of sight. Yeah fuck that, it’s dark out and this guy could be legitimately dangerous for all you know, idiot. Following behind Diego from a distance were he wouldn’t be able to notice you. Not that it’d be hard anyways, considering you’re kinda a master of stealth yourself.

You climb up into the rafters of this weird barn type building, you hear the faintest sounds of Five yelling for you two from within the office building. As you’re about to jump down to help, you spot Diego walking when another figure drops out of the shadows kicking him in the ribs. Great. Deciding you’d like to sit back and watch for a bit, you climb closer for a better view. Diego then throws a knife and the stranger ducks, completely missing him. “Damn, I bet he’d be fantastic at laser tag.” You mumble letting your intrusive thoughts work their way out subconsciously.

Watching Diego twirl around and make some compelling hits gives you time to get closer and bring yourself nearer to the ground. Incase you needed to lend a hand or two if things got messy. As you finally drop yourself onto the damp floor, you look up to see Diego apparently losing the fight a bit. Getting flipped onto his knees for a second before he runs forward pulling out some type of metal stick from a bunch of wooden crates. Where he then proceeds to backflip off said crates and stick the landing with ease. Show off. He starts swinging it around, advancing on the stranger who’s doing a decent job at holding his own ground.

That is, until the guy looses his dark face-covering, only to reveal, holy shit, the one and only asshole himself, Sir Reginald Hargreeves. Diego must have been just as shocked too, because the next moment you hear a soft “dad” from Diego’s lips. And then Reginald lunges, you see a flash of gold and hide a muffled scream as a small knife plunges into Diego’s side. You hear “amateur” before he turns around and casually walks out of the barn without a single fuck to give.

Gasping you ignore the need to question Sir Reginald, racing over to Diego who’s lying on the floor wide eyed in bewilderment as to what just unfolded a couple seconds ago.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, Diego what the fuck!?” You say panicked, ripping your thin jacket off and covering his stab wound with it.

Moaning in pain he looks at you. “I should have let you take him.” He whispers tiredly.

“Shut up I know, FIVE get the fuck over here!” You scream in a desperate panic.

Teleporting to you, he looks down surprised. “Jesus Diego I leave you alone for 5 minutes and this is what happens.” He says bluntly while shaking his head.

“Just go get the car.” You growl at him, while pressing the fabric into Diego's side to help stop the bleeding.

[lilyharvord]

The Chain (Part 1)

I’ve got two words for you all: Time Travel. Main concept: Two love struck idiots get sent back to a pretty UGH time period in their lives (that required me to reread all the books again) and have to hide the fact that they know everything. Stupidity ensues. Enjoy everyone. @redqueenetwork (this is what I mentioned to ya’ll in the chat, it’s finally here!!!) If you want a tag let me know. I don’t even know who is in the fandom anymore. 

“Don’t back her into the corner, whatever you do. We still don’t know what she’s capable of.” I hiss into my receiver as I sprint down another tight alleyway with Ella close on my tail. My hair sticks to my face as raindrops roll down my nose, and thunder rolls overhead. I swipe my hand across my forehead to push the annoying strands out of my face as we go. Behind me, Ella puffs out an annoyed sigh.

“She helped blow up a building Mare, I think we have a pretty decent idea of what she can do.” She admonishes as we round the corner, following Kilorn’s quickly relayed instructions from a moment ago. Ella and I had originally gone after the accomplice but after he hoped a fence and vanished into thin air, we had realized our mistake. He was a fucking teleporter, and therefore the perfect goose for our wild goose chase. We should have guessed something like this would happen. We needed the girl more than anything now. Sometimes I really hated being called into things like this. 

“Ella has a point.” 

“Agree with her one more time, Cal. I dare you.” I grumble into the receiver, pissed he is even chiming in. “Shouldn’t you be more focused on following our suspect and getting her to a place where we can make an arrest?”


“Trying.” Is his reply, followed by a burst of static from Kilorn probably messing with his receiver again. I reach up and bat at the piece in my ear, grinding my jaw against the sound. I could always just short the thing, but that wouldn’t really help with my frustration. It was my fault we lost the teleporter. I’d let him get too far ahead of me instead of just trying to incapacitate him. The last thing I wanted to do was cook him by mistake though. We wouldn’t get any information from a dead body. We needed that information if we wanted these bombings, and other things like them to stop though. 

We rounded the corner and I almost slammed into Kilorn’s back. He manages to dance out of my way. HIs expression is drawn tight, as he puts his arm out to stop Ella. With a quick gesture to the alley beyond the corner he says, “Cal is trying to talk her down.”

I push his arm out of my way and say, “No one engages Ardents alone, it’s a rule.” 

“She’s a kid Mare, they tend to respond to him better.” He says with a shrug, making me shake my head. If there is one thing Cal is still incredibly good at, it’s being a royal pain in my ass. He shouldn’t face anyone alone. Tyton had learned that the hard way when a young Ardent had put him in intensive care for three days. The last thing I need is Cal getting his leg broken because a kid hears what he has to say and doesn’t like it. My mother will never forgive him if he so much as has a bruise going into our wedding planning. Not that that was happening anytime soon, not now with the information I have tucked away to share tonight. I step around my best friend, who only passively tries to stop me. He knows that’s futile and steps back to stand with Ella as I slide around the corner.

My skin barks in protest as a wave of heat rolls over my skin. I hold my hand up to cover my eyes from the flames that circle Cal and the girl who has her back pressed up against the wall. She glares at him, her palms pressed to the brick and stone. I reach a hand out for the flames, knowing Cal will sense the shift in the flames distribution. Sure enough, the flames die in a small me-sized hole, giving me a chance to slip through them. They kiss the edges of my jacket and burn away the rain there.  

As soon as I enter the makeshift ring, the girl’s eyes fly to me over Cal’s shoulder. I know a cornered animal when I see one. She reminds me of myself too, which screams trouble. She’ll do anything to get out of that corner. Talking her down might not be an option, but we have a duty to her to at least try. Forcing my hands to remain at my sides I say, “We want to help.” 

“The last thing I need is your help.” She spit with a sneer and a raised chin. Definitely red, I realize in the light of the fire. She’s either an Ardent or a Red. I’m praying for a Red, they are far easier to apprehend and deal with during interrogation. 

The girl takes a step off the wall and holds a hand up in threat. Immediately my own hands light up with sparks, and Cal takes a step back to give me a clearer shot. The flames around us die as he channels that fire to a more useful source. Hopefully Ella senses the shift in the air and joins us to apprehend this kid. She can’t be older than sixteen, but that just makes her that much more dangerous. Younger Ardents were untapped fonts of power. 

The shadows from the early morning cut into the alley, and my lightning bathes us all in a deep purples glow. The dark shadows under the girl’s eyes are like bruises in this light. Her ragged breathing turns her into a woman possessed though. I try to dim my electricity, to prevent her from acting too brashly. She doesn’t take the hint, and instead takes another step closer to us. The air around us condenses until my ears pop painfully. 

I cry out at the sensation, almost dropping to a knee, and press my hands to my ears. Next to me, Cal pushes himself in front of me, using his own body to shield mine. I wish he would stop doing that, but no amount of arguing is going to change instinct, I’ve figured that out. Four years is a long time to spend with someone. You knew the intricacies of everything. In fact, if this still goes to plan, I can name exactly what he will want for breakfast after, down to how many cups of coffee he will need to stay awake for the rest of the day. 

A wicked wind snaps at me, ripping strands of hair out of my braid and extinguishing Cal’s flames completely. His hand on my shoulder is both a question and an order. If I’m incapable of standing, I need to get out of his way. If I’m capable, then I need to stand and help him. His voice carries even with the hurricane building around us, and he speaks to her like she hasn’t already made herself a danger to us. “Giselle, at least listen.” 

I have no idea how he got her name, but I file it away for later as I look up. She laughs at his attempt to negotiate, and brings her other hand away from her body, palm side up. The wind whips her auburn hair into a frenzy, but she does nothing to tame it. She should do what’s best for herself and listen. If she blatantly attacks us, her punishment will be more severe than blowing up an abandoned building. 

I grab onto Cal’s sleeve, as the wind tears at me as well. If I could just get a well-placed shot off, then I could disable her. Bringing my hand up, fingers spread, I take careful aim for the space right below her heart. Her eyes fly in my direction, and her lips fall into a tight line. “Don’t make me do it.” 

“Whatever you plan, you won’t be as fast as me,” I assure her, trying to rise to my feet completely. She shakes her head, her eyes growing just a hint wider as she states, “I can’t stop it now.” 

My stomach plummets, and my blood runs cold. What has she done? Is there another bomb? Is she about to set another one off somewhere else in the city? Somewhere that might actually be populated? 

“Whatever it is, we can stop it, if you just stand down.” Cal argues, keeping a tight hand on my arm, while his other arm tries to shield his eyes from the debris in the alley that the wind kicks up. Giselle shakes her head one more time, before looking down at her hands. Her entire body begins shaking, and with a smirk she says, “I’d tell you I’m sorry, but I’m not even sure where you’ll land.” 

My brows fly up into my hairline, and I grab Cal to pull him out of the way as she holds her hands out again. A body blow sends us flying backwards though, and through a wall. 

Immediately, my body goes into free-fall, and instinct kicks in as I try to flip myself over. There’s nothing but a wash of color around me though, and I end up tumbling in circles, simply trying to keep myself in one position. 

My hands seek purchase, and I manage to grasp Cal’s jacket again. His hand latches onto mine and I try to pull myself closer to him. I’m gasping for air though, unable to breathe. It feels like I’m being squished through a pipe the size of my pinkie, like how it used to feel when Shade teleported me. I wish I had opened my eyes during those times, maybe I would have seen the same wash of colors. Those trips always took a heartbeat though; this is taking seconds. I had never seen an Ardent that could teleport people and not themselves. Were Ardents evolving again? Julian said it was a possibility, but it should have taken hundreds of years, just like it had taken that long for us to appear in the first place. 

“Don’t let go,” I managed to gasp to Cal, as he tries to wrap an arm around my hips. I grip the front of his jacket with two hands, terrified of what will happen if I lose him in this tunnel. His answer is to squeeze me tightly to him. 

I press my face into his shoulder trying to inhale the scent he always carries with him. He smells more like the lake in Monfort now, probably because he keeps wearing this jacket when he walks around the lake with Kilorn. He should know better. It reeks of moist lake water. 

I glance over his shoulder only for something to catch my shoulder. I try to scream an alarm as my fingers release Cal, and I go spinning off to the side. My vision is limited but I still see him go limp from whatever hit he took. I scramble to grab at him, my fingers managing to catch his sleeve before we both collide with the side of the tunnel. 

It is like passing through a window, with multicolored glass shards explode around us. I spiral into darkness then, losing my weak grip on Cal completely. My chest heaves for air, and I try to force myself to be as loose as possible in case I end up hitting the ground. It’s a pointless exercise, any hit will kill me at this point. The pressure around me changes again, making me ears pop once more. Only a heartbeat later, I slam into something else, and finally fall unconscious.

[inkribbon796]

The Marvelous Misadventures of One: S. Marvin Argentum Ch. 2: The Desert Sucks, So Says Marvin

Summary: Marvin comes with a plan, and trips over an adventure along the way.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4

Marvin and Ghostbur went into Marvin’s childhood home and spent longer than he wanted to talking to his mom and promising to come back after the whole mess was over because he was already tired and just wanted a nap but it looked like he wasn’t going to get one.

She did insist Ghostbur come back with him because he’d already endeared himself and Friend to her.

With those promises and some tea, Marvin left the house with Ghostbur and they got back into the car and Marvin took it out of the driveway and about a mile away so he could pull over onto the road and the trio could plan.

“If I can win a duel against the Guildmaster, then I could take over and pull the Guild out of the alliance. If I time it right it will catch them off guard,” Taylor told him.

“Well that’s all good, but are the other hunters gonna[1] just let yeh[2] do that?” Marvin asked.

“No, unfortunately,” the hunter hummed in thought.

“Didn’t think so,” Marvin scoffed. “So we’ve got a group ‘a[3] mages that have had months ta[4] lick their wounds from the beat down Spade an’[5] Clubs gave ‘em[6]. We’re what? Two on several dozen?”

“Two? There’s three of us?” The hunter was clearly getting frustrated.

“Nah, he’s not gettin’ anywhere near ‘em,”[7] Marvin told them before Ghost could say a world, but he noticed that Ghostbur looked relieved. “Yeh[2] move the base yet?”

“No,” the hunter told him.

“Good, it’ll make ‘em[6] easier ta[4] find” Marvin grumbled in frustration, his messages weren’t getting through because when you live in the middle of nowhere cell service doesn’t exist. “I’ll try an’[5] get in contact with Chase when we pass through Egoton ta[4] get ta[4] Arizona. Maybe we can get back in time.”

“Why Egoton specifically?” The hunter demanded.

“Cause it’s a magical fookin’ town. We can wait until Egoton’s position shifts inta California an’ cut the drive in half.”[8] Marvin brought up a map of Egoton on his phone to show them.

“Yeah,” Taylor agreed. “When would that be?”

“Anywhere from right now ta[4] next month,” Marvin sighed.

“That’s too long,” Taylor told him.

“Would Marvin and his allies like to take a shortcut?”

Marvin actually jumped and Taylor was whipping out a staff to attack the Host but the Seer used his narrations to knock it to the side.

Ghostbur flickered back into visibility, smiling as he recognized the Host. “Oh, hello Host.”

“Fook, kid, are yeh tryin’ ta kill me?”[9] Marvin grabbed at his chest.

“The Host sensed that he was needed,” the seer grinned, Taylor was unsettled by the sharp smile but they didn’t say anything. “Would Marvin and his company like assistance? The Host could open up a portal right into Arizona.”

“Really?” Marvin looked back at him. “That’d be great actually.”

“If Marvin and his companions will get into their car, the Host will open up a portal for them,” the Host said and was already opening up a huge Void portal that visibly showed the “Entering Page” sign that was the trio’s destination.

Marvin sighed as he got into the car. “An’[5] here I wanted a break.”

The car started and Marvin drove them through the portal, the portal swirling shut in an instant as Marvin was racing towards the unfamiliar city. Ghostbur let out a delighted gasp, materializing halfway outside the roof of the car. “Shermy lives here.”

“Who’s that?” Marvin demanded

“Shermy! He can help us!” Ghostbur peeked back into the car. “He’s plenty strong.”

“Okay, neat, where does he live?” Marvin demanded.

“Let me—” Ghost said and possessed the car, taking it off in a terrifying way. With little regard for speed or other cars on the road.

“Ghostbur! Yer gonna kill us!”[10]

Marvin was able to get control of the car and Ghost helped with shouting directions and the blinker to warn Marvin when to turn. They stopped outside of a police station, Ghostbur an excited, jittery mess. While Marvin and Taylor were trying to calm their racing hearts.

“So, who are we here fer[11]?” Marvin groaned. “Not sure some police precinct I’ve ne’er[12] worked with are gonna[13] work with us.”

“Sherman,” Ghostbur smiled. “He’s Techno’s big brother.”

“Techno,” Marvin repeated. “The big pig brute has a big brother?”

Ghostbur nodded, still smiling. “I don’t remember him that well because I met him when I was Wilbur and younger. But I think he was nice.”

“You sure he’s not going to instantly attack us?” Taylor asked.

“I could go in and ask him?” Ghostbur offered.

“I don’t like the idea ‘a yeh walkin’ in there alone,”[14] Marvin protested.

Ghostbur frowned, but looked over and brightened up, “I don’t have to, he’s right there.”

And before Marvin could determine who Ghostbur was talking about, the young ghost demon shot out of the car and flew over to someone who had just stepped out of the police station. He was tall and built like a brick wall. And Marvin knew that was who Ghostbur had been looking for. He looked like Techno but had a nasty looking scar over his left eye and huge tusks jutting out of his mouth.

“Fook![15] Fook!” Marvin raced to get out of his car.

“Sherman!” Ghostbur smiled.

“Wilbur! Fuckin’[16] hell kid!” Sherman shouted. “Where the hell did yah[2] come from?”

“Oh, I’m with my friends,” Ghostbur smiled as Marvin raced over.

“You too, huh?” Sherman crossed his arms in front of himself.

“Hey, Shermy,” Ghostbur floated up a little bit.

“Nah, don’t think so,” the huge demon scoffed and pushed Ghostbur away. “It’s still Sheriff Thompson to you. An’[5] who the Sam-hell are you?”

Sheriff Thompson turned to glare at Marvin and the hunter.

“We’re with Ghostbur,” Marvin jabbed his thumb at Ghostbur.

“Ghost—” Sheriff Thompson scoffed. “Ain’t that hilarious. So I’m guessin’ yer join’ the Ol’ Man?”[17]

Ghostbur’s excitement seemed to, impossibly, go through the roof. “Phil’s here? He can help too.”

“Oh great,” Marvin hissed under his breath.

“Yeah, come on, junior, the Ol’[18] Man’s over at Church’s,” Thompson grabbed Ghostbur, seemingly, by the scruff of his jumper and dropped him away from him.

Thompson began walking away, his uniform changing into one that was a simple button-up and suspenders outfit.

“Where yeh goin’?”[19] Marvin asked.

“Over at Church’s there’s a club of sorts that may or may not be participatin’[20] in less than legal dealin’s.” Sheriff Thompson told them. “Tech an’[5] Philza are always there whenever they’re in town.”

“Aren’tcha[21] a cop?” Marvin glared at him.

“All the books check out,” Thompson shrugged. “Besides, humans aren’t allowed into the basement. USA loopholes only include humans. Besides, Techno needs an outlet when he comes to town. So we have the pit an’[5] any demon that wants a shot at his crown can get discorporated tryin’[22] to take it.”

“Laws about demons are always fooked,” Marvin hissed.

“Well that’s what happens when demons get to write state laws,” Thompson dismissed.

“So yer[23] Techno’s brother, how does that work?” Marvin asked.

“Look, normally Techno doesn’t talk ‘bout[24] his past, but I like ta[4] embarrass him so it’s fair game,” Thompson shrugged, Ghostbur floating next to him. The spectral demon was a good couple feet off the ground so he was at Thompson’s head height, almost scrunched up in a ball. “Tech an[5] I are a good fifty years apart. We come from another demon I killed a couple decades back ‘cause[25] he was causin’[26] too much trouble.”

“He had a name?” Taylor asked.

“Billiam,” Thompson answered. “He was obsessed with legates, you two know what those demons are?”

“I do,” Marvin said, the hunter giving them both odd looks.

“Right, so,” Sheriff Thompson. “I don’t quite know if he met one, or read about one, but he was obsessed with power and figured if he could get a legate reliant on him, then he could rule the world. At first he was experimenting on people lower class than him, but then he started working with his own when that failed. He only made two spawnlings by the time I got rid of him an’[5] his accomplice. The instant he realized I was just a normal demon he tossed me out on the street an[5] started trying to make a second one. Which was his mistake ‘cause[25] that was Techno.”

“So what type ‘a[3] demon is Techno?” Marvin asked.

“Don’t know, don’t really care,” Thompson shrugged as they reached a building that looked like some kind of library or a bar. There were people milling about.

All the patrons gave the Sheriff a quick nod or a brisk hello as Thompson led the trio down to a metal stairwell. Marvin could already hear the shouts and the loud cheers.

What Marvin saw as he came out to a spectator’s platform was a massive two-story hole in the ground where Techno was in there, fighting five other demons with an axe. All of them had various weapons.

With a slice of his axe one of the demons exploded into a puff of magic and the crowd screamed. The other four demons were discorporated just as quickly.

Marvin looked up to see a VIP stage where a young girl with long pink hair and a pink mask, standing next to the glass, pressing her face close to the glass as she bounced on her tiptoes. Philza was sitting in a huge armchair, watching the fight like a king watching knights in a jousting match. His fingers swirling and bobbing with some music in the room that he was listening to.

Marvin felt his magic coil around himself protectively, and that maybe stepping into this place was a mistake.

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

Accessibility Translations:

1. going to

2. you

3. of

4. to

5. and

6. them

7. Nah, he’s not getting anywhere near them

8. Because it’s a magical fucking town. We can wait until Egoton’s position shifts into California and cut the drive in half.

9. Fuck, kid, are you trying to kill me?

10. Ghostbur! You’re going to kill us!

11. for

12. never

13. gonna

14. I don’t like the idea of you walking in there alone

15. Fuck!

16. fucking

17. Isn’t that hilarious. So I’m guessing you’re joining the Old Man?

18. Old

19. Where are you going?

20. participating

21. Aren’t you

22. trying

23. you’re

24. about

25. Because

26. causing

[thorne93]

Inside the Criminal Mind (Part 15)

Prompt: You’re married to Dr. Spencer Reid of the BAU, and are a distinguished doctor yourself on the team. You’re sent down to Miami, Florida for teaching and as a side request from the FBI, to investigate a string of missing persons. When you think you’ve figured out who the unsub is, your life becomes more complicated than you ever could’ve imagined.

Word Count: 2158

Warnings: (throughout the fic –>) death, blood, gore, killings, language, disturbing mental notions, mentions of rapes/murder/etc (You know, Dexter and Criminal Minds related business)

Notes: Thank you so much to @arrow-guy​​​​​, @carryonmyswansong​​​​​, and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​​ - without each of you, I couldn’t have finished, written, or properly navigated this story. Each of you helped me fish out details that were incredibly important to me. Beta’d by @carryonmyswansong​​​​​ and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​​… Aesthetic by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​​

This is a crossover of Criminal Minds x Dexter. First time writing Dexter.

Also, the timeline is after Season 1 of Dexter, but during season 14-ish of Criminal minds into Season 15. Enjoy!!!

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

Over the course of the next month, you and Dexter had three more kills. In this time you learned how to change the dosage of tranq for different sized people, how to carry someone of larger size and stage the kill room for them. You were getting a lot more comfortable with stalking, following, tracking. 

Dexter didn’t have you hold the knife for the next three times. He felt like the first time, you needed to understand every aspect of what he was doing. After that, it was all about logistics.

When to abduct and how, when to strike, where to take them, how long to hold them, how to keep them subdued...

Of course, he had gone over how this was going to eventually turn into your own MO, you’re own signature. He might’ve taught you how to get the victims, how to properly keep the room clean, and how to dispose of them, but he realized that this had to be tailored to you.

“So, you’re going to do an eye for an eye, right?” he asked while you were in his apartment, sitting next to his computer. 

“Right,” you nodded, sitting beside him. 

“Okay, you’ll have to make sure you take them to the proper place then. Drowning, make sure there’s a bathtub or cinder blocks, duct tape and rope, if you want to just send them to the bottom of the ocean.”

You nodded. “Mhm.”

“Just, be sure when you go out on your own you’ve got all the information so you can carry out the kill how you want.” 

“I will.” 

“How are you going to dispose of them? Are you going to use my method or something else?”

“Well I don’t have a boat…”

“Hmm, could be a problem. Plus you’ve got your husband and you can’t bury in the backyard or he might wonder.”

“Definitely not, and it’d be an immediate tie to me.”

“We really need to think of a good disposal method for you then.”

“Wood chipper?”

“Ah, yes, let’s spray DNA all over the place with a loud machine,” he said with an eyeroll.

“Oh, excuse me for not being well versed in body-disposal. You know, typically my job is finding bodies, not keeping them under lock and key.” 

“Which is why you need me,” he reminded. 

“I do need you,” you said with a slight laugh. “We’ll think of something,” you assured. 

“Yeah, and for now, for your first one, we can dispose of it my way.” 

“Thanks, Dex.”

The two of you went on discussing strategy and any other crucial detail you’d need to carry out your crimes successfully, in your area, with your job. 

Since you’d left Spence back in D.C. you hadn’t said much to him, at all. It was down to about one phone call a week and it was typically about work. 

You knew it wasn’t his fault that JJ felt how she did or said what she said. You knew that maybe it was true that he felt like he didn’t need to remind her that both of them were married to other people. But the fact of the matter was, he kept this little secret between them for a long time. Only they were privy to it, and somehow that really hurt, that they shared a moment, a secret, a confession like that and he didn’t think it was important to tell you. By keeping it between them, it gave JJ power, and possibly motive, to think that he really did feel something for her.

Distancing yourself from Spence probably wasn’t the best idea, if you were worried about him straying, but it hurt too much to hear his voice, to wonder what else he was hiding. To wonder if he worked a job with JJ. To wonder if he was stealing glances at her and wishing he could have more. To wonder if he regretted not going after her more intensely all those years ago.

Being around Dexter, whether you were killing, planning, or just hanging out, he provided a sense of distraction. 

You wondered though, analyzing yourself, if maybe it wasn’t Spence you couldn’t face. Maybe it was yourself. Maybe it was the fact that Dexter should be behind bars now, and he wasn’t, because of you. He was still killing, still committing crimes, still out on the streets. He wasn’t a bad guy. He didn’t harm kids, and his days with animals were over, and he only helped the world by stopping these guys.

But for years, you have been so ingrained with oaths, vows, honor to protect the country. Every night before you went to bed since you’d been down in Miami, you recited the FBI oath before sleep. And you couldn’t find anywhere that you were breaking that. People were dying, yes, but how was it any different than when you draw your gun on an unsub, or kill them with Dexter in a kill room? 

Now, you had to lie every day to Spencer. Every kiss, every hug, every text, every call was a lie. So maybe, the avoidance of him was to protect you, rather than any anger your harbored towards him. The less time you spent on the phone, the less time you’d have to try and hide things. Less time to try and come up with a lie. You couldn’t tell him who you were now. Spencer might as well be married to a stranger, and that killed you. You still loved him, and you still wanted every atom of his being. 

But would he still want you? Probably not, and the idea of losing him killed you.

The idea of lying to him hurt you even worse though. 

Because much like with JJ, the lying, the secrecy is what hurt, not the actual confession. JJ has a right to her feelings, and you had yours. But neither one of them had been honest with you, and that’s what you couldn’t forgive. 

Yet, here you were, a murderer, accomplice of a murderer, and every word out of your mouth was a lie. You never want to turn on Dexter or turn him in. Sometimes you wondered if you should just wipe your hands, part ways with Dexter, and return home after schooling.

But other times, you knew you needed to make sure people that Dexter hunted weren’t getting away. At this point, you’d already done what you’d done, and telling Spencer now would serve as nothing but to hurt him. 

So this was the way it had to be. 

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

Only two weeks had gone by since your last kill with Dexter, when he messaged you. 

“You need to meet me tonight, if you’re free,” Dex texted you around lunchtime. 

“What time?”

“7:00, my place.”

“I’ll be there.”

And here you were, at his door with some pizza and beer, like always. 

“Alright, I’m here. Got a new kill?” you asked, stepping inside.

“Yes, but not for me,” he stated and your mouth suddenly went dry as your heart hammered in your chest. “Come look at this.”

He turned the laptop to face you slightly before you sat down next to him. 

“Alright, I found a guy who’s running a dog fighting ring just outside Miami.”

You slowly nodded. “Okay, so how bad is it?”

“Pretty bad. I’m not sure how much damage you need to make a decision but it looks like about three dogs a night, and he does it about two or three nights a week. Pit bulls seem to be his speciality, but he’s got doberman and german shepherds. I’ve got a few pictures of the hurt dogs if you want to--”

“No, no, please don’t show those to me.”

“You sure? They can be good motivators.”

“No, I don’t need that sort of shit in my mind, Dex, alright? Just… you’re sure? You’re positive this is happening, right?”

“If you want to be sure, we can go to the place where they hold the fights. I’m sure you could find some dogs in cages. I could even go to a fight, if you wanted…” 

You shook your head. “No, that’s too risky for you. Plus you don’t exactly blend in with that crowd.”

“Imagine that, a serial killer who looks too good to be mistaken for a dog fight enthusiast,” he muttered, amused. 

You slightly laughed, bumping his shoulder with yours. 

“Well, let’s go by the place. If I see the dogs, I’ll be good to go,” you assured.

“Alright. We could go tonight, unless you have papers to grade or something,” he said, peering at you.

“Me? No, I’m good. We can go.”

“Yeah, sure. Okay, we can eat then head out.”

“Sounds good.”

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

Driving around a sketchy part of the neighborhood, Dexter finally stopped his car in an alley. 

“Alright, this is it. Just over that brick wall should be the dogs and a garage styled building. Inside is where the fighting happens. Now, I can go and check it out, or… we both can. It’s up to you.”

You swallowed, thinking. Did you want to see this? Did you want your gut to just churn? 

No, but you in a sense, Dex was right. You needed that thing to remind you why you were here, why you were doing this. What your purpose in all this was. 

“Let’s go.”

He nodded, eyeing you up and down before saying, “Alright.” He unbuckled his belt and climbed out of his car, you following suit. The two of you jumped out, him in his hunting gear, and you in your all black ensemble. You walked over to the brick wall where Dexter scaled the wall and you were right behind him. As soon as you landed on the other side, it became quick that this was indeed a dark, horrible place.

About a dozen a dogs were in cages, but instead of barking at you, like they should’ve, it was completely quiet. The dogs simply cowered against the back part of the cages and your heart immediately broke for them. 

 Dexter looked at you, then he gestured with his head towards the garage shop. “Let’s see what’s inside. Come on.”

You nodded, following him. He picked a lock and you followed him inside. Inside was a single dim light, showing a dirt floor. No dogs were in here, but in the dirt you could see all sorts of blood and it made tears spring to your eyes. 

“Oh, Dex,” you all but cried. “What sort of horrible people do this?” 

“Some pretty sick people,” he agreed. 

Shaking your head, you turned around and went out to the little yard that was walled in with bricks. 

“I want to set these dogs free, and I want to get this mother fucker soon -- this week,” you said, your teeth gritted. Sorrow quickly gave way to hate and anger. 

“He’ll just find more,” he stated. 

“I know, but maybe we can at least save these. Please? I can’t walk away from them…” You were kneeling in front of one dog’s cage. 

He looked around, probably trying to contemplate the consequences. 

“Okay. Yeah.”

“Thank you,” you said emphatically. “Okay, now we need to get them to a shelter. I don’t want them roaming the streets, especially not in this neighborhood.” 

“Y/N, I didn’t come here for a rescue mission--”

“Neither did I, Dex, but we’re here, and I can’t leave them. Who knows how many more he’s going to kill before I can get to him?” 

“Well if you call this in to some group though, and then the guy ends up dead…”

“That’s why I suggest we take them to a shelter.”

“I don’t have the kind of room to do that in my car,” he remarked. 

You stood up, running your hands through your hair. “Shit. So what do we do? I can’t leave them, I can’t let them loose…”

Dexter looked around, clearly trying to think of a solution to the situation. 

“Let’s just... “ He glanced around, and found a truck. “We can load them in the back of that truck and then drop them off at a shelter. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. That works. Thank you.” 

He got the old truck started, and the two of you backed it up to the yard. The two of you worked quickly to load the dogs, then you got to the truck to a shelter only ten minutes away. He returned the truck back to the spot he found it, then you got in his car and left. 

“That was… the most heroic stalk I’ve ever done,” Dexter noted.

You looked over at him with a kind smile. “Thank you, Dexter. You don’t know how much that meant to me.”

“Don’t mention it. So, you ready to kill Angel Rodriguez now?”

The question threw you for a second, before slowly nodding. “Yeah, yeah I am.”

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

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[statticscribbles]

Relocation

Summary: Sweet Pea,/Archie- Family Bonding Request:  Sweet Pea and Archie become step brothers and learn to work out their differences as well as getting along with and defending each other against enemies. Tw: underage drinking

To Fred Andrews credit he doesn’t panic when FP and Jughead show up at one am rambling about Hiram’s plan to buy out the Southside. He waits, until they’d been fed, and are sleeping to call Mary at three thirty and panic to her. She assures him that it’ll sort itself out and that he should focus on not altering Hiram or anyone outside of the Serpent’s about what is happening. It takes her three hours to find a flight. It takes Sheriff Keller an hour to bring the Serpent kids in.

Toni’s let go within the first ten minutes, it takes them half an hour to release Fangs. Sweet Pea’s told he’ll be spending his night there. Sheriff Keller watches as Archie and Fred hang around slightly too long. “You two need to clear out and; hey Mary,  just telling Fred and Archie that y’all need to clear out so;“ “I’m Sweet Pea’s lawyer.” Sheriff Keller sighs and shakes his head. “Alright, follow me.” “I know you don’t want to do this Tom.” He nods shrugging. “It’s what I was told to do, the mayor, and Hiram-“ “I know. It’s not your fault.” ———————————————————————–

Archie’s not upset with his dad; he doesn’t care that much, Sweet Pea had slept over more days that he wasn’t and Fred has casually mentioned that since Sweet Pea was emancipated it really didn’t need to be anything official: of course Mary refused anything else when Sweet Pea mentioned it while she was visiting. “Come on it’ll be funny, you know those cute little family photos.” She tries to angle it like that and Sweet pea shrugs Archie however seems upset on his behalf. “That you do for kids when they get adopted?” “You’re seventeen, we’re doing it.” Sweet Pea doesn’t say anything against it; sitting holding the chalkboard sign Mary had written for him. Archie can’t help but laugh and it quickly turns to annoyance when she makes Archie join him. “Look at it this way, we could have gotten matching outfits.” Fred chimes in and they both look horrified.

———————————————————————————– Sweet Pea glares from over the beer he’d pulled from the fridge. “Here.” He shoves an open one into Archie’s hands before he can say anything. “Now you’re an accomplice. Can’t rat me out.” “I don’t give a shit about rattin’ you out, you know that right? All that does is put more stress on dad which I’d like to avoid.” “Well if you weren’t such a stuck up Northsider then-“

“I’m not. You’d know that if you actually hung out with me, or listened to Jughead.” Archie snaps. Sweet Pea doesn’t say anything taking anther drink from his beer. “I don’t like this anymore than you do-“ “So go back to the Southside, you know no one will give a shit. Go back to your trailer where you can exist however you want and not have to deal with me pissing you off for being a Northsider.” “I can’t.” “Yes you can; it’ll be-“

“Sheriff Keller said if he saw me back on the Southside he’d lock me up, considered it trespassing or some bullshit; so I’m stuck, on the Northside.” Archie stays quiet swallowing. “Yeah, so believe me; if I could I’d go back in a heartbeat; but I’d rather not get thrown in Hiram’s prison.” Archie nods. “Sorry; I didn’t realize-“ “No you didn’t ask. If you actually asked I would have said something.” “Would you? Really? I don’t exactly pin you as the most talkative of the group; you’re the big brooding silent type.” “And you’re the dumbass jock; see we can play the cliché game all you want; doesn’t change where we are now.” Sweet Pea finishes his beer nodding to Archie as he passes him to go to the garage. “Sweet Pea; listen, just; you can talk to me if you need.” Archie smiles and Sweet Pea smirks back. “I know; I just did.”

Things seem easier after that, despite both of them getting chewed out by Fred, Mary assuring them she’s just happy they drank at home instead of out where someone could have seen. They eat dinner together and seem content to argue mindlessly about movies and video games. Archie scream as Sweet Pea for eating pineapple on his pizza and Sweet Pea screams back how Archie wouldn’t know a good comic book if it was printed on his face. Overall they seem to reach a content middle; they wait at least a week before telling everyone outside of the Serpent that Sweet Pea moved. Betty pretends to be shocked, both Jughead and her window had given her a clear picture of where Sweet Pea was living. Veronica, Kevin and Cheryl have no reaction beyond a nod; even reggie doesn’t bother with saying anything. ——————————————————————————————

It’s been a week, nobody says anything to either Archie or Sweet Pea, assuming they ignore each other in order to avoid fighting and dragging any drama back home. Archie can tell that everyone is waiting for it to blow up; for one of them to snap at the other and for the precarious truce they formed from Sweet Pea living with Archie to dissolve. It takes two days an a misplaced English essay for them to blow up. It’s not anything noticeable; they both stay silent as usually, but during lunch they hiss and glare at each other anytime that they would usually converse. The Ghoulies that hover on the fringes almost audibly purr as Sweet Pea storms off. They wait for a moment, no one following him; letting him cool off, letting them attack.

Sweet Pea decides it’s just easier to leave, to avoid getting into a fight that’ll drag out all the way back to the house and risk Fred getting involved and giving him the eyebrow’s of dissappointment. He steps away from the lunch table nodding, Archie nods back he knows he’s not actually upset at him; as he walks away. Archie nudges Jughead when he sees a few other figure’s retreating  the direction Sweet Pea went. “Ghouls.” He hisses under his breath and Archie stands, running over. “Can Y’all fuckin’ not.” Archie hisses, Sweet Pea looking up from  where he leers over a ghoul, fist crashing into his cheek repeatedly.

“Sweet Pea get the fuck off him; that’s not fair and you know it.” Archie shoves him with his foot and the ghoul under him wiggles his fist free slamming it into Sweet Pea’s eye. “Fucking Christ.” Archie hisses hauling the ghoul up and slamming him into the wall. He can see the other ones retreating and he rolls his eyes, turning back to hit the one he’s hold cringing when he ducks slightly, Archie’s hand scraping against the brick. ———————————————————————

“It was my fault. I should’ve have been so bothered about it.” Sweet Pea shrugs at Archie’s grab for the blame. Fred just sighs, handing a bag of frozen corn to Sweet Pea to cover his swollen eye. He holds his hand out ad Archie places his bloodied knuckles onto the table. He pulls out disinfectant and bandages. “We were being stupid.” “I know. You don’t need to tell me that.It’s good you two aren’t at each other’s throats but if you two are supposed to be family now you at least need to act a bit more like it. The silent treatment doesn’t really work.” “Yeah, we’ll work on it.”

“Good, Sweet Pea like I’ve said before you’re welcome to the guest room, instead of the couch or  the garage. You know that right?” Sweet Pea nods. “You should take it, might be easier to be a family if you’re in the house.” Archie volunteers; Fred doesn’t say anything but they can both see some of the tension in his shoulders is gone. “Thanks Dad.” Sweet Pea means it as a joke, not something to be taken seriously. He’s about to apologise to Fred, with how he seems to be frozen. “No problem son.” He shrugs turning away from the towards the fridge. Neither Archie or Sweet Pea comment on the mistiness in his eyes.

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[fauna96]

V Prompt: Role Reversal

Title: The djinni, the thief and the magician 

[This was hard. It was very very difficult... but fun! Kudos to who guesses from where I’ve taken Kitty’s name and surname as a magician.]

Agnes Pole had a secret, a secret that could have her killed. The fact was, she didn’t choose to keep this secret; it had just happened.

They made it easy, telling you to forget your birth name; but for Agnes it had been impossible. It wasn’t that she didn’t try: at night, when she was still a child, she used to close her eyes, squeezing them hard, and she tried with all her force to expel that memory: her mother’s voice calling ‘Kitty’.

Obviously, she couldn’t do it; and, as much obviously, no one knew it, less of all her master. After all, she was the one to issue Agnes, as her first lesson, to not trust anyone; and, implied, her too. So, Agnes had kept her mouth sealed; she hadn’t even dared to say out loud that forbidden name.

When she looked at herself in the mirror, she saw Agnes Pole: a young woman with short, soft dark hair, her mouth constantly bending in a pleasing smile. She didn’t know how Kitty looked like, except for a lost five-year-old child.

Her sensor net started ringing in her ear; a moment later, at her window a pigeon materialized. Agnes made it come in and immediately it took the shape of a pale-faced young man in a grey suit.

«Mistress» he said, bowing slightly «I think I’ve found him».

 Nathanael was her regular demon for a few years, now; it was one of the first djinn with a considerable power that she had summoned, and, in the beginning, she had found it irritating without an exact reason. Really there wasn’t a reason, because the demon was precise, quiet and impeccable. Every magician’s dream.

But it was fussy, fastidious too, and with a hidden slyness capable to turn any order inside out, Agnes knew it. However, it was efficient; and, as Whitwell always said, finding efficient servants, and silent in addition, was extremely rare. So, Agnes had kept it and, in the end, there had been vantages: just to start, learning to give orders precise and crystal-clear. Then, she had found out Nathanael was a real font of knowledge and, if you made it the right questions, you would have obtained all the answers you wanted. If she had to describe her servant with a word, Agnes would have used ‘competent’.

And it really was (take that, Farrar), because it had been successful in individuate one of the thieves of artefacts that were driving all Tallow’s department and police mad.

Agnes, as the Chief of Security’s apprentice, had been placed to investigate on the series of thefts; in the beginning, she had to admit that, as a job, didn’t please her much: she hated work office, she’d have liked more to be thrown in action. Whitwell, in front of her complains, had barely risen an eyebrow. «You’re still an apprentice, Agnes» she had replied. «Be careful to not fool yourself. You’re clever and you have talent, but use your brain before talking. A work office, as you call it, could do you well».

Agnes had bitten her tongue. As she had to do every time she had met Farrar and had to endure a barrage of gibes.

And now, instead… «A very good job. Nathanael» she commented, leant on the car seat.

The young man near her tilted his head. «Thank you, mistress» he murmured, but Agnes could catch all the surprise behind the courteous tone. It wasn’t very usual that Agnes deemed her demon worthy of more than orders, but it was a particular occasion. «If everything goes well tonight, I’ll dismiss you for a while».

«Now let’s not exaggerate, mistress» the demon’s face was always pale and serious, but Agnes thought she could catch an… amused? glint behind the icy eyes.

Oh, why not? It had deserved it, at least. Of course, she would have to do without her most trusted servant, but it would have been a little time. She was perfectly capable to look after herself. It would have been weird, though, not having the tall, lanky shape behind her shoulders, silent as a shadow and as much as loyal…

«We are here» Nathanael murmured. «Do you see that corner over there? He passes over there every night to go to his… hideout. I think he has some hiding place under the bricks, because he always takes some minute there. And in that minute, he’s distracted».

Agnes nodded, without tearing her eyes away from the road. She made a gesture towards the djinni, and it slithered out the half-closed window as a curl of smoke.

They didn’t have to wait long: a figure was coming close with quick, measured steps. It stopped at the corner as expected.

And then there was a noise of struggle, a furious shout suffocated, then the boot opened up and something was thrown in.

 Nathanael didn’t like very much kidnapping kids; but he didn’t like disobeying orders either and being punished, so there wasn’t a lot of alternatives. Moreover, the kid in question had trashed like an eel and he was able to kick his shin with a boot that must have something of iron, because it stung a lot.

He and his mistress had taken him to an old abandoned library that they had used many times during various occasions. Miss Pole looked at the boy still passed out at her feet. To be truthful, there wasn’t real age difference between the magician and the commoner, but her posture, her clothes and everything made Agnes Pole always look older.

Nathanael looked at her at the corner of his eye while she seemed to review mentally what ask to the commoner. And probably, repeating herself to be calm and rational, a thing that wasn’t always Agnes Pole’s forte, despite her excellent teacher. Nathanael wrinkled slightly his nose thinking about Whitwell. Old vulture.

The boy made a sudden moan and his eyes opened wide. Nathanael saw them searching the room for a way out, then they rested on the two of them.

«Move and my demon will tear you apart».

The boy didn’t move. Then, unexpectedly he made a dazzling grin, shining on his dark face.

«Hello» he said.

Well, that wasn’t the reaction Nathanael was expecting, frankly. And neither did his mistress, holding her lips tight while the commoner kept watching them from below.

«What could have I done to deserve such an honour? Kidnapped by a magician?» he winked  with a mischievous expression, that little did suit a dirty boy, curled on the floor.

Nathanael saw clearly his mistress’ patience decrease; were they alone, he would have whispered to her to stay calm, tranquil: she was in charge, as usual.

But Agnes tightened her fists lightly and took a deep breath. «I want you to answer my questions, quickly» she said. «And maybe I could think even to let you go».

The boy sneered. «Of course, miss magician. And you give me a lift home, don’t you? No one believes it, not even your demon. You caught me, you won. I don’t know what else you want».

«The Resistance. I want your accomplices».

Fell a… curious silence. The boy grew quiet, then he spoke directly to Nathanael. «Did you tell her I’m from the Resistance? Because I stole some scrap metal? Oh dear!» And he burst out laughing so loud that the walls resounded. «I’m sorry, o most powerful magician» he could stammer out «but your demon dropped a clanger here. I work in my own».

«So do you steal artefacts just for an hobby of yours?» Agnes asked, her voice dangerously sweet. «And only magical objects, not simple jewels?»

«Ah, that is a little secret of mine, sorry. Anyway, of course I sell them. At the black market, but that surely you know. And surely you know that they’ll go to the Resistance or whatever. But I don’t want anything to do with them. I work on my own, told you».

Agnes smiled. «So those two… the kid following you anywhere and that girl so pretty… aren’t they your accomplices?»

A shadow passed on the boy’s cheeky face. Here we are, Nathanael thought.

«No» he spelt put. «They…»

«Don’t you think they’ll live better out that hole of yours? Maybe that kid would stop coughing so much».

The boy gulped and stared both in the eyes. «Look. I am a thief, it’s true. But I am not from the Resistance. You can promise me all you want, magician, but I can’t give you what I haven’t, and I haven’t any names nor addresses. If you want to throw me in jail for theft or say that I’m a terrorist, do it. It’s my word against yours, isn’t it?» His dark eyes lingered on Nathanael. «Oh, the demon, sure. You could have me tortured by it. Surely I could sing then, but I wouldn’t trust me too much. Always had a low pain tolerance level».

«Mistress» Nathanael whispered. «A word».

Agnes stepped back and tilted her head toward him. The boy’s sharp eyes kept watching them.

«I think he’s honest, partly. But if he sell magical artefacts…»

«He has some communication channel, yes» Agnes sighed and, for a moment, it seemed that her mask was slipping. «I was so close…»

«I think» murmured Nathanael «that he could be bought. Making leverage on… his two friends. Bought, not threatened».

Agnes narrowed her eyes. «What should I do? Buy them a house?»

«No» the boy’s voice came suddenly. He must have an exceptional hearing. «No. But there is something I want».

[stattic-writes]

Relocation

https://statticscribbles.tumblr.com/post/639099629845233664/masterlist

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[n0ttinghamshad0w]

The Game’s Afoot! || Crime Squad

In which Rob robs the Davis house, with a little help from Andrina, Desoto, and Sarina...

@andrina-the-amazingsupergenius @accendimi @desotosykes

[CW: uh crime? creepy gnomes, slight implied child abuse mention]

Here’s the plan as I’ve got it laid out, yeah? She’s movin’ stuff, I know this, been movin’ things for a while. Not sure why, but judgin’ from all the stuff, I think she’s got a new place and may be rentin’ this place out at one point — anyways, point is that she’s out this weekend, the 27th of July and that’s when we’re goin’ in —

We’ve got the van, picked up a spell from one of the sorcerers in town to make it look like a movers. We’ve got the uniforms. ‘Ts gonna be as simple as walkin’ right up to the front door, only we’ve got Andrina here to disable all the security. Once we’re in, we divide and conquer — one of yas, Sarina, yeah, get to the safe and pick it open. Take whatever else you want — we’ll ditch the van right as we leave, burn the uniforms, and divvy up the stuff to pawn....

ANDRINA: 

Today, after months of planning and foreplay, Andrina was going to help rob Crazy Gnome Lady.

 Fun! 

 She got to wear a super sexy, special crime outfit for the occasion-- a cookie-coloured jumpsuit with a logo stitched to the front advertising MIKE’S MOVERS AND SHAKERS. She had to hand it to Rob; he had really committed to accuracy for replicating the logo down to the terrible Comic Sans font (graphic design was Mike Mover’s passion). Her favourite part of the look was actually the baseball cap, which she threaded her long, curled ponytail through, and used to hide the headset that would let her talk to her version of Oprah’s Book Club-- some hot chick named Sarina, some Italian Mobster transported straight from the set of the Sopranos named DeSoto, and their fearless, foxy leader, Robin Hunt, posing as the infamous Mike Mover himself. 

Important supporting characters included the moving van they’d rented for the occasion, sporting the same logo. 

 Also, the gnomes inside the Crazy Gnome Lady’s house. 

 Phase One began here: parked right in front of the aforementioned target. It still felt slightly counterintuitive to Andy. When Rob had told her they were gonna just roll up to the driveway, she’d raised her eyebrows. You sure you’ve done this before? Shouldn’t we park down the street? Wait for the cover of night? Plan a diversion?

That’s more suspicious, he’d told her and flashed a toothy smile, his confident tipping over to a cockiness Andy found very sexy. The secret to gettin’ away with somethin’, he told her, is to pretend like there’s nothin’ to get away with.

 And so the mid-afternoon sun was their spotlight. It was time for Andrina’s debut. Cue Ashley O’s On a Roll from Andy’s phone hooked up to the aux, and Andy cracked her knuckles and got started. 

 Her laptop pulled up, she clacked her way into Gnome Lady’s wi-fi. “Leeeet’s see….” she said, her tongue edging out against the bottom of her lip as she started to poke around Gnome Bitch’s desktop remotely. While the rest of her daring, dashing crew were going old-school bulgery, she’d get a chance to mine the digital treasure trove for any extra goodies. But for now, she was looking for one thing and one thing only-- 

 “Annnnnd-- disabled,” Andrina chirped as she deactivated Gnome Bitch’s security system.

 The house remained perfect still and silent, a sleeping giant of brick and mortar and ugly beige. 

 Andy flashed her grin at her comrades. “It’s moving day.” 

DESOTO:

This whole thing was kinda strange for Des. Not in the way he’d never done it before. Naw. He’d broken into houses and even stores before when he was a helluva lot younger. And dumber. What was strange was the amount of planning that went into it. The team that was put together and the plan that had been laid out by the man that had contacted him what felt like months ago. It was smart. Brilliant even. And the fact they’d just be… waltzing into the house and taking shit? It made it even better. Maybe he’d have to invest in this sort of crime more often. It was stress free. Stress free crime. Ha.

Dutifully he waited for the okay to head inside, pulling the ball cap he wore down out of instinct. They had the disguise as a moving company but there was still that slight paranoia that made him want to be as unnoticeable as possible. It’s why they’d gotten the gloves, right? An added security measure to further protect their identities if anything happened.

Following the mental map that he’d created as Rob detailed what he would be charged with getting and where exactly it would be, DeSoto made his way through the too goddamn beige house to get to his target. The room was, surprise, beige with pictures of gnomes and pixies and were generally creepy. No matter where Des went in the room it felt like those creepy little eyes were on him, watching every step he took. Were those where the cameras were? Hiding in creepy pictures so that any wrong doer would know intrinsically that they were being watched? Would be crafty of her, honestly. Crafty and creepy. Right up this lady’s alley.

The room itself was huge. Bigger than any one person would need. DeSoto understood the need for space, though. His own room back home had been too large. He’d filled the space with a large bed and then let it get cluttered with a shit ton of things that didn’t exactly matter to him but filled the space. Almost as if he were trying to fill an empty spot within himself. This room felt like that. Though, certainly more like a strange tomb. It smelled of the kind of perfume that made your allergies act up and mothballs. Idly he wondered how he’d drawn this room but pushed the thought to the back of his mind as he began combing through the drawers of the huge vanity. 

Rob had told him that the old broad had a ton of jewelry but he hadn’t anticipated this damn much. Each drawer was filled to the brim with gaudy jewelry that was organized by style. Bracelets, necklaces, rings, those weird things old broad’s wore on their shirts. Obviously he wouldn’t take it all but a good amount would be missing next time she bothered to look at any of this crap. Easily DeSoto began packing shit away, filling the box he’d brought with random expensive looking pieces. They’d get a pretty fucking penny for all this shit and Des wouldn’t have to worry about funding his next batch of drugs for a good while. 

Next was the closet, the smell of mothballs even stronger as he began pulling dress after dress from the hangers they were on. Each was made of exquisite fabric and for a brief moment Des wondered where the hell this bitch wore these clothes. There certainly wasn’t any place in Swynlake that warranted this fashion. Not hat it mattered. He was here for a paycheck, basically.

JELLY:

Jelly had one last job in Swynlake before she left. A job that Sarina had accepted and why not. If she fucked up she would just kick someone's ass and bounce sooner than expected. She was already burning bridges that Sarina had so nothing would follow her. 

And neither would this rag tag group of people she was apparently robbing a house with. She however did admire the plan. Jelly didnt want to deal with them. Let her be alone and make sure Sarina's skills worked in her favour.

She was just sad she didnt wear her heels to listen to the sound of clicking on the hardwood floors as she proved to herself over and over why she was better than all of them.

And this stupid moving uniforms. It was gross. 

That was for another time though as Jelly walked into room. It was impressive. At least until she spotted that creepy ghome. What was with this bitch and Ghomes. For a human she really had a lack of family pictures. Wasnt that a high human thing. To look at your loved ones 24/7. Not that Jelly cared. 

Jelly almost wished she was here just so she could play with the obsession. Make the woman think she was shattering all of them. Actually Jelly would shatter all of them. Let's not lie.

Glancing around the room Jelly walked over to the creepy painting not wasting any time and pulling the thing off the hooks. If there was anything she knew about humans was that they were predictable even on the worse days.

And a safe behind the picture. Yeah that was obvious. Settling in Jelly pulled up to the safe focusing on Sarina's memories without giving the girl a chance to breath instead ripping them from her mind without a concern for the pain she caused her. 

Listen to the locks. Be smooth in your motions. The fact you could insert a wire in the right place to give you better access. It was all there and Jelly loved it. Sarina had to easily be one of her favourite hosts.

It didnt take long for her to have the safe swing open and there was the cash nicely bundled just asking to be taken and as Jelly grabbed it the numbers rang in her mind. 

1000. 

1500.

2000.

3000.

4680.

Not a bad haul for less than half a days work.

ROB:

He’d let his two accomplices handle the bulk of the haul. He dinnit care what they took, s’long as they weren’t stupid (and he knew they weren’t stupid — Sarina’d done this before and before, and Desoto had a stake in stayin’ in the town so he wouldn’t fuck up). While they plundered, Rob idlly walked through the halls of the house.

He was on the hunt, you see, but not for money or jewels or any of the stuff he’d promised Sarina and Desoto (he’d promised Andrina the thrill of the chase, and out of everyone, he hoped she got what she was after). Nah, you see, Rob was lookin’ for something else. 

Normally, see, he’d take something — a mug that said Number One Dad from a dad who dinnit deserve it; a mother’s flask tucked away under a pillow; gambling stubs; a belt used for punishment —

But this house was barren. There wasn’t a single indication that Mrs. Davis even had kids, let alone two, let alone one of the kindest souls Rob had ever known, let alone a boy buried in the ground.

Nothing he could take that would remind her of what she’d done.

As he walked by the fireplace, he glanced at the garish modern paintings on the mantle and the thought occured to him. 

He reached in his pocket, pullin’ out the photograph Tuck had given him, smoothin’ out the edges. It was a young Mrs. Davis, her first husband, and Tuck as a baby — already Mrs. Davis’ face was stern and she held her baby at a distance. This’d been taken a few months before they decided they dinnit want him. He’d been left unceremoniously on the doorstep of the orphanage, as if Mrs. Davis were some woman in a Victorian nove dying of a wastin’ disease.

Rob wasn’t sure how she got from Nottingham to here, wasn’t sure what she told everyone happened to the first kid.

What he did know was that she left Tuck. She left Tuck and she had another kid and she dinnit even remember that her son was dead, dinnit even act like he existed —

He didn’t want to leave the photo, the only thing of Tuck he had, but there was a spot open on the mantelpiece. 

With a gloved hand, he smoothed out the creases and left it right on the empty space. 

[galaxias-ss]

On Killing A Rat

"By gnawing through a dike, even a rat may additionally drown a country." Edmund Burke  Custom Made Jewellery Few creatures in the Western global are as feared and reviled as the commonplace rat. Rats are related to tenement slums, sewers and garbage. They bring ailment, pollute food, and are notoriously difficult to get rid of after they establish a colony. In mob circles an informer is referred to as a rat. When I turned into a boy my playmates and I would yell, "You rat!" at every different when we desired to use an expletive that might now not get our mouths washed out with soap. Rats terrorized Winston Smith, the protagonist of 1984, and in Richard Wright's Native Son, Bigger Thomas kills a rat with an iron skillet as the novel starts. Albert Camus' The Plague opens with hundreds of rats lifeless on the streets of Oran, a precursor to the pestilence approximately to crush the city.

But I had little private revel in with rats. A few youngsters I knew saved rats as pets, and they appeared nothing extra than oversized mice, much like what the Romans called "Mus Maximus" (Big Mouse, a rat, in different phrases) in preference to "Mus Minimus" (Little Mouse). So when early one evening at the beginning of summer 2011 I noticed a hairy brown creature with a protracted tail scampering about the branches of my lemon tree, I turned into nonplused. This become no small kid's pet. This turned into a big, bloated, and quite repulsive animal that had made its way into my outdoor and turned into now gorging itself on the contents of one in every of my chicken feeders. With exceptional dexterity it crawled headfirst down the tubular aspect, planted itself at the circular perch wherein the birds are meant to sit, and ate as if there was no the next day, twitching its nose like a rabbit and the usage of its paws like an electric powered noticed. It ran when I approached, shifting with splendid pace, up the side of the chook feeder and again up into the branches, disappearing among the leaves.

The next night it was back again, eating ravenously. At dusk the day after that it added a accomplice. Now there had been two, and the subsequent night there were 4. These rats were multiplying exponentially. Going to my PC I typed the phrase "rats" on Google. I were given over 95,000,000 effects, and a short perusal of among the articles I observed informed me I had a trouble I had better do something positive about, and not using a time to lose.

I had to put off the rats, or soon I might be overrun with them. Rats are notorious for how rapid they reproduce. But I desired to do it as humanely as viable and in as environmentally pleasant a manner as I should. I made a go to to the nearest hardware save, and after a careful study what become on the cabinets below the conventional identify "Rodent Control," I came away with what I idea had been the pleasant choices: Two small plastic "rodent bins," with round holes on either facet for the rats to pass through, 4 locations inner to area the blocks of poison (that way simplest the rats and no longer some neighborhood cat might be able to get to them) and locations for a spring-loaded rat entice, two of which I bought. These had been, I determined, a quantum soar in pressure from the old skool Victor timber mousetraps I had visible formerly. The jaws of those got here down with a terrifying crash that in reality startled me the primary time I heard it, and could clearly bring immediately (and optimistically painless) loss of life to any rat that went after the peanut butter I used as bait. I set the traps, located the blocks of ugly inexperienced poison of their spots, and placed the bins beneath the timber a few toes apart from one another, sprinkled some chook seed round each, and waited. While I waited I spent extra time on Google, gaining knowledge of approximately rats.

Rats are maximum notorious for having added the Black Plague to Europe inside the 14th Century. Coming along the Silk Road from China, rats carrying plague-bearing fleas reached the Crimea in 1346, and from there were given on board ships bound for Europe. The resultant pandemic, perhaps the worst in records, killed an predicted one-1/2 of the population. Medieval medication could not find out the reason nor should it deal with the sick. People went to mattress apparently healthy and died of their sleep. The lifeless have been so numerous that in some locations there has been no person left to bury them. Europe could not recover for 150 years.

But there is plenty more to the human-rat dating than the plague, as I turned into soon to find out. Rats have doggedly observed inside the footsteps of human migration. Where there are humans, there might be rats. Rats now live on each continent on the planet except Antarctica, making them the most successful mammal on this planet after humans. It is expected there is one rat for every human on the planet. One story, perhaps apocryphal, states that in places where rats are specifically severa, a person at any given time is no extra than ten toes far from one.

Rats have an super present for survival. On Engebi, one of the Eniwetok Atolls wherein nuclear bombs had been tested inside the 1950s, scientists lower back to see what remained after the bombs were exploded. They determined radioactive soil, plants destroyed-and a thriving colony of rats. Rats can live to tell the tale a fall of 50 ft with out harm. Excellent swimmers, they can pass wide rivers (a massive mass migration of rats changed into recorded in Southern Russia in 1727 when thousands of them swam throughout the River Volga from Astrakhan). They can tread water for three days with out resting and dive to depths of 100 feet. They live an average of two to three years, and a girl rat typically has a clutter of 6 to 12 offspring six or seven times a yr. They stay in colonies (packs) with every rat's vicinity in the social order determined by using their combating capability, the dominant men at the pinnacle. They sleep collectively, groom every different, and have interaction in play and play-combating. When the colony gets too large, the more youthful adult males leave to start colonies of their own.

Rats are recognized for his or her sharp enamel and powerful jaws. Not most effective are their tooth sharp, they are extremely difficult: Measured on the Mohs hardness scale they arrive in at five.5, more difficult than iron or platinum, and greater than 1/2 as tough as diamond, which measures 10. These hard enamel allow rats to gnaw thru timber, bone, plastic pipe, even brick. Rats will consume almost anything, and have been known to eat soap, leather, and furs, however opt for grain, livestock feed, and meat of diverse kinds, such as human, although cases of which are rare. But with their sizeable appetites, they can and could consume one 0.33 in their frame weight every day.

Their eyesight is negative, restrained to only some feet. They hear extraordinarily nicely, and have extraordinarily evolved sense of contact and odor. A rat can run 24 miles an hour for a quick distance. They are considered clever, one of the reasons they're in demand for laboratory experiments, and a 2007 observe observed rats to possess metacognition, "understanding about knowing," an ability formerly documented handiest in people and primates.

In a few elements of the world, human beings pray to rats. In India rats are seen as a automobile for Lord Ganesha, and statues of rats take a seat in Ganesha temples. At the Temple of the Rats, in Rajasthan nation, worshippers take this a step further and permit 20,000 of the furry creatures to stay inside the temple, considering them holy creatures called kabbas. Killing one there, as you could have guessed, is taboo, and the rats are allowed to run loose even as the trustworthy attend to their prayers inside the temple. In the Philippines, Thailand, Cambodia, and components of Polynesia, rats are eaten as a part of the ordinary weight loss program. In China the rat is the primary animal of the Chinese Zodiac, and people born within the Year of the Rat are thought to own features of honesty, creativity, intelligence and ambition-attributes that rats are notion to have as well.

I nonetheless needed to do away with the rats in my outdoor. For a few days nothing regarded to occur. The rats nonetheless regarded every nighttime for their dinner party of bird seed, but I did word their numbers were no longer growing. Then past due one afternoon I heard a rustling sound from beneath the trees in which I had left the rodent packing containers. Something become moving within the fallen leaves. I went to take a better look and saw a small rodent head pop out of the hole at the side of the box. This became accompanied with the aid of about half of of the rat's body. It munched greedily at the bird seed that I had spread on the ground, the usage of its paws vigorously, similar to the manner a ground squirrel feeds, then pulled again within the box, best to emerge again a second later to eat more. As I came closer it gave me a sidelong glance, decided I changed into no considered one of any importance, ate more, after which disappeared once again.

Something became out of synch right here. Why failed to it run away? Why hadn't it tripped the lure internal? Tentatively I were given nearer, but I wasn't eager on getting too near-I had no want to get bitten by way of the rat. Meanwhile the rat persevered to eat. Then it made a lunging motion, and more of its body emerged from the hole and it attempted to walk away, pulling the entire box at the side of it.

I cautiously opened the field, and saw what I did no longer need to see: Somehow the rat had sprung the lure, but as opposed to crushing its head and killing it, the trap had stuck its hindquarters, proper on the spot wherein the tail joins the body. The rat become caught, however now not useless and now not about to die, and when I found out this I became trapped just as sincerely because the rat, trapped with the aid of the know-how of what I had achieved and no longer understanding what to do about it.

The rat twitched its nose and checked out me reproachfully, as if to say, "Why have you ever carried out this to me?" It not seemed a ferocious sewer residing provider of pestilence however a small hairy creature in problem and in pain. I become struck through its size, too: It was like a little rabbit or a guinea pig, something that a child might keep as pet in a cage with a going for walks wheel and a small field of water.

What to do? I should get a hammer and bash its head in, however that might now not be retaining with my dedication to be humane. I ought to leave it there, in which it'd die a sluggish, agonizing demise that might take who is aware of how long to accomplish. I ought to turn it loose, but that seemed counter-effective-I had desired to do away with the rats, and however there was the threat of being bitten.

The rat struggled a few greater, nevertheless seeking to get unfastened. But its efforts had been in useless. The jaws of the trap held it fast. Once once more it checked out me, as though I were its savior. I determined I did no longer need to look any extra. I closed the box quickly, then got a five gallon bucket and turning it the other way up, placed it over the box and the rat. If the rat have been capable of get unfastened the bucket would preserve it, and I would not need to take a look at it and be reminded of what I had finished. Out of sight, out of mind.

But no longer completely. I became haunted by way of that image of the rat attempting and then failing to get out of the lure. I stored taking into account it stuck in the ones horrible jaws, and the way it checked out me. I started to don't forget stories I had heard of animals stuck in traps that chewed their personal limbs off so that it will break out.

In a short time I knew what I had to do: I would have to set the rat unfastened. Putting on a pair of welding gloves I went returned into the backyard. I took away the bucket and another time opened the container. This time I took the trap, rat and all, and set it on the ground. The rat made no attempt to chunk me. It watched me carefully, with a affected person demeanor, as if ready to look what I had in thoughts. Reaching over carefully, I launched the jaws of the lure. The immediately the trap opened the rat ran- so rapid my eyes could slightly observe it-up the aspect of the closest tree and disappeared.

I placed each traps away. Rats and human beings ought to learn to co-exist with one another, it appears, and if rats are based upon people which will stay, human beings also want rats to preserve existence in angle. "Evermore inside the international is this marvelous stability of splendor and disgust, magnificence and rats," Ralph Waldo Emerson said. If people ever succeed in destroying themselves, perhaps the rats will inherit the earth. I don't really want to share my outdoor with rats, however I am not going to entice any more of them, and if one wanders into my yard from time to time to consume birdseed, so be it. So I may not lure any more of them, but I might not pray to them, nor will I eat one. Perhaps when all is said and executed, the rats might not devour me both.

[darlingpetao3]

For Asgard (Chapter 21/?)

Well, there goes my last bit of money...

It wasn't even enough to purchase a ticket home, so what does it even matter? You wanted, no needed, something to eat, so screw it!

Plus, nothing could beat eating fresh chips while walking along this lovely view of the River Thames.

Travelling the world was by far the greatest decision you had ever made. Not long after returning home from the battle in New York, you knew you needed a change. A fresh start, to get back to the fundamentals of who you really were. To rediscover yourself, essentially. And during your wild and amazing journey, you have come to see so many beautiful countries and cultures over the last year and feel incredibly fortunate.

On your afternoon walk, you come across a bookstore and decide to have a look around. Not that you'll be able to buy anything in here (which is, in its own way, a bit of torture). Looking around at the neat assortment of literature, your hand reaches for, and brushes, the same book as someone else.

“Oh, sorry,” you apologize, looking up at a rather attractive gentleman.

“No, no. Please, take it,” the cute guy offers the book to you.

“Thanks.”

“Are you from here?” he asks.

“I'm from... around.” Wow, vague much? He seemed to like your mysterious answer. Always keep 'em guessing, ladies. He chats you up a bit and it comes out that you're practically stranded here until you find some more cash in order to get home. “Where's home for you?” The guy is trying to break your code. What are you about? What's your story? Those kinds of questions. You only give a little background information on yourself, not wanting to call too much attention to your past. From a nobody to an accomplice, to an honorary Avenger. Then truthfully (thankfully) back to a nobody again. Who knew how many people saw your face fighting with Earth's Mightiest Heroes? Keeping a low profile was the main priority.

“There's a guy, isn't there?” asks cute guy. You become a little flustered at the question.

“Oh, well, that part of my life is pretty complicated.”

“Is he still in the picture?” There's an invisible pluck on your heartstrings.

“No,” you say, remembering the face of the one you had once loved so deeply and had broken your heart. “No, he's not. He's far gone.”

“Well, hey. If you ever want to talk work or get together...” The cute guy hands you a business card with his phone number on it. “Give me a ring.” His smile is wide and confident, but you've seen better. The shop's door jingles on his way out.

“Pssst.”

You look around the aisle for the voice and see no one.

“Psssssst. Hey, you.” It's a woman's voice. On the other side of the bookshelf where the book you're holding had been, is an eye peeking back at you. “You lookin' for a job?”

This was more than a little unusual.

“Come with me.” For some inexplicable reason, you follow the woman out of the bookstore and when you catch up to her, you are finally able to see her face. She doesn't look threatening; she's on the shorter side, has nice round eyes, and a very expressive face.

“So um, who are you?” you ask. “And where are we going? You mentioned something about a job?”

“The name's Darcy,” she says, walking briskly. “We are going... this way. I need to pick up my boss slash friend. And yeah, I need someone to do the grunt work.”

“For...?”

“Science stuff.”

“Gotcha.”

This Darcy chick leads you to a little vehicle with various metal contraptions lying on the pavement beside it.

“Your first task is to fit all these in the back. Think of it as Tetris,” Darcy instructs. “And keep the GPS looking thing handy. I'll be back. I need to go interrupt a date.” Even with all the questions forming in your head right now, you end up not saying anything at all and watch her scuttle away into the restaurant beside the parked car.

After packing the back with this weird-ass stuff (including something that vaguely resembles a toaster), Darcy returns with another woman. She has long hair, is taller than Darcy, and looks a little ticked off. When she sees you leaning against the car, she asks, “Who's she?”

“She's my intern.”

“You have an intern?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Wait, intern?” you say. “I'm going to get paid though, right?” They both ignore your question.

“Have you heard from Erik?” the new lady asks Darcy.

“No, Jane, I haven't, but I'm sure he's-”

“I'm calling him now.” Jane dials rapidly on her cell, only to have to leave a message.

“Our friend Erik – he's a scientist,” explains Darcy. “And he kinda went coo coo for coco puffs. But he said he was onto something so we-”

“His last name wouldn't happen to be Selvig, would it?”

Jane hangs up the phone, turning around in her seat to address you. “Do you know him?”

“Kind of.” You leave it at that and change the subject. “The GPS says to take a left here.”

Many sharp and illegal turns later, the three of you ladies end up in a deserted warehouse district. This place gives off a serious murder-y vibe, which in turn makes you a little jittery. Jane, still not too impressed with being dragged from her date by Darcy, gets out of the car with a huff.

“Come on, this is exciting! Look, the intern is excited!” Darcy points out.

“My name is (Y/N).”

“Do you want the phasemeter?” Darcy asks Jane, ignoring you in the process. Even though Jane says no to this so-called 'phasemeter,' Darcy tells you to grab it anyway. “The toaster looking thing.”

So that's what it's called.

“Intern, we're this way!”

“My name is...” Oh, forget it. Might as well adopt this as my new name. You carry the heavy hunk of metal into the warehouse your new employers are sneaking into. There's no way this can be legal. They disrupt some birds, startling you and almost causing you to drop the phasemeter.

“So this is where I die?” you joke. “Go figure.”

“I know,” Darcy agrees. “I feel like a murderer in a hockey mask is going to jump out and stab me.” There's the sound of light footsteps. “Don't shoot!" Three small kids show themselves from around the corner.

“Are you the police?” one of them asks.

“No, we're scientists. Well, I am,” Jane replies.

“Thanks,” you and Darcy say in sarcastic unison.

“We just found it.”

“Found what?” you ask quietly. You feel like you're in on something classified. The kids look at each other as if should we show these foreign women? In the end, they motion for you to come along. The things they present to you are seriously out of this world. Get this: a cement truck floating in mid air! When one of the young boys barely touches the truck, it rotates a full three hundred and sixty degrees. That doesn't seem right at all. What's even odder is when these kids start dropping random objects down a stairwell. They'd disappear before hitting the ground and re-emerge from above, out of nowhere, in a never ending loop.

If this is science, sign me up.

Jane grabs the GPS device and mumbles something about it giving off strange signals, then starts walking around with it. A hip-hop ringtone blares loudly from Jane's bag she left on the ground. The screen reads there's an incoming call.

“Jane!” Boy, she's quick. You've lost track of her, but continue to call out. “Jane! Oh, there you are.” You rush to find her in the middle of a hallway on an upper level of the building. “Your phone is ringing. Someone named Richard?” She thanks you, taking the phone and answering it, passing you the GPS to hold for a second. Jane walks away for some privacy so you try to play scientist and follow the beeping machine's readings down the rest of the freaky hallway. What's particularly creepy about it is the leaves rustling around in a wind that shouldn't be here...

What the-?

All of a sudden, something like a magnetic force pulls at you from your core, your feet sliding along the concrete floor all on their own. No amount of effort on your part can stop this. You're about to smash into the brick wall ahead, but instead, you go right through it.

You wave your arms around to keep balance after whatever force that was comes to an end. How did you not hit the wall? Why was there this eerie coldness in the air?

“Jane? Darcy?”

They're nowhere to be found. Just this giant rock pillar behind you. It seems to glow red in the middle of itself.

You creep up to it and peer inside to get a closer look – bits of strange particles float around and it sounds like they're making unearthly noises. When you reach your hand inside the crevice to touch them, the unknown particles attack you! Your hands tingle almost to the point of extreme pain, it's like they're crawling up inside your skin. And everything inside your body and your mind feels like it's being shrunken. When the sensation becomes too much, you faint.

It's dark again, but this time, you find yourself laying on the floor of the warehouse. Shit. Where did everyone go? Where did I go? Wondering if you were just tripping out, you scramble to your feet and run out of the building. Still parked in the same spot as earlier is Jane and Darcy's vehicle. They shove open the car doors and run in your direction.

“Intern!” Darcy yells. “Where the hell were you?”

“I'm not really sure.” You rub your head.

“But you were gone for five hours,” Jane says, worried.

“What?” You hear heavy raindrops splat on the pavement, and yet you don't get hit with any. A crash of thunder sounds from above. It's really pouring down now, but your personal space bubble remains dry as can be.

“Now that's weird.” Darcy points a finger around at you.

“How is that possible?” Jane wonders with a furrowed brow.

“Oh my...” you start. “It's him.”

“Him, who?” In your periphery, stands a tall blond man, red cape blowing in the gusting wind he is surely creating himself. You walk over to him, the rain still not touching you.

“(Y/N),” he says with a friendly smile.

“Thor! It's been... a long time. It's nice to see you again.”

“And you. Are you well?”

“I'm... well enough, I think. What brings you to London of all places?” Jane and Darcy, curiosity getting the better of them, walk over to your little reunion.

“Who's the hunky cosplayer?” Darcy says, eyeing up the God of Thunder.

“Ladies, this is Thor. He's... a friend from work.” You think that's probably a good enough explanation. Jane is quietly taking in this very large and handsome man, while Darcy speaks her mind.

“Dude, you're so ripped. What is it? Cross-fit?”

A loud siren and flashing lights quickly signal the arrival of the police. They drive up next to you and a man steps out of his squad car.

“You are all on private property, the lot of you.” He's quick in his movements as he grabs for you first. “You'll all have to come with me-”

A massive ball of blood red light erupts around you at his touch, sending everything and everyone (including yourself) flying back. Even the squad cars' windows get blown to smithereens. Thor rushes to help you up from the ground, calling your name. It feels like a migraine coming on. You look at your hands with fear.

“Thor...”

“Are you alright?” he checks.

“What the freaking hell was that?” you scream.

“Place your hands on your head, step back,” the policeman advances slowly, afraid yet trying to act in control of whatever is happening.

“This woman is unwell,” Thor tells him.

“She's dangerous.”

“So am I,” he shoots the policeman a scary glare. That didn't seem to go over well because the policeman calls for backup. Thor instructs you to hold onto him, as he puts an arm around you.

“Why?”

And just like that, like getting sucked into a vacuum, both you and Thor get blasted up through a swirl of comic colours leaving Jane and Darcy in the dust. What you see is unreal, and you know you've felt this sick feeling before, from forever ago. It doesn't last long though because Thor sets you down gently on solid ground again. Looking around now, you're in a room where you can see countless stars and their colourful trails from beyond. This place looks familiar. A man in a golden suit and horned helmet stands to face you, also familiar.

“Welcome back to Asgard.”

~

Part 22

A/N: I apologize to London Readers who read this chapter because, well, you'd already be home!

Tag List: @gerardwayisapotato , @theloneavenger1995, @magellan-88

[7fics]

Jackbum: Jackson goes to the woods to bury a body but Jaebum is already there burying a body.

Warnings: Character Death, Murder, Other stuff that comes with burying dead bodies in woodsdisclaimer: I do not promote murder, I do not hate any of the characters that die in this fic, it was just for the sake of this fic

Word Count: Just under 2k

Author: Chewt, the writer formerly known as Chewy (I changed my name because author Jenni called me Chewt on accident)

an: this is, honestly, crack with a dash of murder. characters may come off as slightly ooc because i’m making them into murderers and they are not (i don’t think) murderers irl.

Reccomended music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HORkT4a2MhQ

“Duuuuuuude. You’re like a marshmallow. ROASTED!” Jackson pats himself on the back for a very good comeback.

“You didn’t roast me,” Mark reminds him.

“Oh, that’s awkward. I could have sworn we just had a conversation,” Jackson pouts.

“No, I haven’t talked since our first hit a while back, buddy. We’re high, not chatty,” Mark corrects, surprisingly sincere given the subject matter at hand.

“Well fuck you, I’m higher than you!”

“No, I am!”

“Prove it!”

“I can jump off this fucking cliff!”

“Why are we getting high on the side of a fucking cliff?”

“I don’t know but I’m gonna jump!”

“Yeahhhhhhhhhh! Do it! OH MY GOD YOU ACTUALLY— Wait… Mark?” Jackson calls out into the deep recesses of the void.

There’s no response but the echoes of a loud, resounding crunch. Jackson isn’t sure whether to cry in fear of what might have happened to Mark, or celebrate because he actually remembers the word “onomatopoeia” from 8th grade. He decides to do both as he scrambles down the cliff.

Really, it isn’t very high of a fall, and Jackson is sure Mark will be fine. What Jackson hadn’t bet on is Mark’s thin skull taking on the brunt of his thick-headedness. Yes. Mark didn’t jump off the cliff. He dived, like a swan, but without the grace and water to greet him at the bottom.

“What is the point of a brick head if it crumbles on impact?” Jackson laments.

Jackson really isn’t sure what the given procedure is in this scenario, but one thought does resonate. Is he an accomplice to Mark’s murder if Mark murdered himself and technically Jackson egged him on? And, if police come to investigate, surely they’ll arrest him for possession of marijuana. The situation is only looking worse.

Jackson digs around in his pocket for his phone and also inspiration. The fates must surely be looking out for him, because inspiration greets him in the form of tiny beige speckles.

“Mark always wanted to be buried as one of those tree things. I’ll do just that,” Jackson narrates, as now Mark isn’t around to tell him that his life isn’t a movie.

Jackson shakes the seeds back into his pocket, never mind that they’re tomato seeds and not acorns for oak trees. Mark looked best as a redhead anyway. Then, he gets to work tugging, dragging, and lugging. (He rhymes so well because he listens to Jay Z all the time.)

Jackson doesn’t get too far into the woods before he’s panting heavily. “I’m a fencer! We’re based on speed, not stamina!” he cries into the darkness of the forest. “X marks the spot— oh that was totally a pun, get it?” he mutters to himself, slowly spiraling into what must be shock, or maybe he’s still just high. Regardless, there is a task at hand, and Jackson is determined to finish before sunlight. It would be really awkward if somebody caught him digging a grave for a dead body in the middle of the woods.

—

And that’s why Jackson stumbles across another person not even a minute later. Ridiculous, really. Why must the fates play him in this way, always?

“This isn’t what it looks like! I promise!” He lets Mark thud back down on the ground so he can hold up his hands in the air for good measure.

“It looks like you killed someone, and now you’re trying to cover up the mess,” the other man deadpans. “Even if that isn’t it, you’re still lugging a dead body through the woods and I’d like to see you explain your way out of that one.” The man flicks his hair out of his eyes and at that moment streaks a splash of red across his forehead. Even with Jackson’s nearsightedness, he can make out the bright, foreboding color contrasting against the man’s pale skin in the moonlight.

Jackson contemplates the probability of vampires for a second before his eyes catch sight of the lump by the stranger’s feet. For a moment, Jackson thinks its a leopard, but then realizes that a) leopards don’t live here (he thinks) and b) it’s actually a faux cheetah fur coat that looks pretty shredded (in the literal sense; he can distinguish no muscle mass appearing from beneath the fur. The creepy stranger, on the other hand, is rocking the no-sleeves.)

“Wha-what about you?” Jackson stutters out. He tries to keep his cool in front of a fellow possible kind of murderer, but it’s hard being a newbie to the game of burying a body sketchily in the woods. “Is that a body?” (The question is obviously directed at the cheetah fur pile, because murderer or no, that is definitely a bod and a hot one at that. Now is not the time to think such things though, so Jackson gives himself a small slap on the face for good measure.)

“Yes.”

Taken aback by the blunt answer, Jackson coherently responds, “Oh. What? Illegal!”

“And you aren’t?”

“I’m not an illegal alien that’s what I’m not. No way.” (Nobody has to know that once Jackson went to America for a tournament with a visitation visa instead of a work visa.)

“Ok, but are you or are you not dragging a dead body through the woods and trying to bury secretly without the knowledge of the police?” the man presses.

“Well, if you put it that way… I didn’t kill him though! And still, so are you!”

“Fine, truce, we’re both dragging bodies through the woods and if the police find out, we’re going to get in trouble. What did you even do anyway?”

“Why would I tell you that? You’re a complete stranger! And you could be an ax murderer for all I know! In fact, all evidence points to the fact that you most definitely are at least a murderer, if not an ax murderer!” Jackson is in hysterics as this point. He’s still not really sure what even is going on anymore, just that he needs to move on from this place and bury Mark in some tomato seeds, or something. (But he really can’t help it if the stranger’s arms look positively ravishing.)

“You’re kind of annoying for a fellow murderer, you know? I don’t think I’ll invite you to the Murder In Trees Club after all. It’s MInT for short, you know. I’m Jaebum, by the way.”

This is the hook line sinker that reels Jackson in. “Oh. There’s a CLUB? Why didn’t you say so before, of course I’d love to join! I love making new friends! There is a contract though that says you won’t kill club members, right? Oh, do you have a secret code name? Jaebum? Jaebae? JayJay? JayBee? JB? JB! I’m Jackson, but call me JFlawless.”

Jaebum, or JB now, in Jackson’s mind, looks a little taken aback, but decides to roll with it for now. Because that’s what seasoned murderers are trained to do. “So. What happened to that body?”

Jackson’s face flickers into a thousand expressions before settling on fake smirking. (Jackson isn’t a seasoned murderer but he was a public figure for some time, so not he knows how to deal with these things.) He also realizes that now is not the time to tell the truth if he wants to join the club MInT. (The acronym is cute enough that he forgives the crime required to initiate.)

“Oh, you know,” Jackson begins, casually attempting to lean against a tree (although, being Jackson, of course he misjudged and fell over into the tree), “I was out with this kid, Mark, and we were smoking pot but he was totally hogging so I pushed him off the cliff.”

Jaebum smiles, showing all of his teeth. “Lovely.”

“Thank you, and you?”

“Ah well, really it was an accident. I didn’t mean to kill this one,” Jaebum does the tree lean, and it works perfectly for him and his long limbs. “I work in retail, you see. It’s a kind of hipster clothing brand so most of our customers are already really annoying kids. But this kid, man, his name is Bambam, always comes in with his boyfriend, this other tall ass kid, Yug-something or other.

“Well, they come in all the time. And they’re annoying as hell. Well, Bambam’s just plain annoying, Yugyeom is fine but he always asks for sizes that we don’t have. Usually, Bambam comes in five minutes right before closing time, which, ugh. Blazes through, fucks up all the nicely folded clothes, only buys one or two of the cheapest items and tries to stack as many fucking coupons on the counter as he can fit in his tiny, pre-pubescent hands.

“I can handle rude customers, up to some point. But then one night, he comes in and asks me to put on ‘the mannequin challenge song’ as if I’m some DJ, which I’m not. But he’s the customer, and there’s the boss’s motto, make the customer happy, so I do it. Takes some effort, but it works. I keep on my fake smile, keep my anger in check. Fine. But then he starts dragging the mannequins to and fro, stacking them up so he can ‘to the mannequin challenge but legit’ and then he tries to leave. And that’s when I snapped. I was not having it. Simply not at all.”

��And then what happened?” Jackson ventures. He’s a little fascinated and awed by the fury of JB’s rant. He’s pretty sure he heard a few actual real live growls, and JB’s chin seems to have elongated over the course of the rant as well.

“I’m not that good at controlling my anger. This happened,” and he kicks the dead body over, the shredded cheetah print pimp coat falling apart.

“Huh. Or maybe you’re just a gross necrophiliac. Why is the poor boy half naked?” Jackson questions.

“Because that is a horrendous coat. Would you ever wear something like that in public?”

“True.”

“Anyway,” Jaebum continues, “I only like to fuck warm bodies like yours.”

Jackson opens his mouth to respond, but suddenly he can’t get out a single word and they’re pressed up against each other, making out with a passion that Jackson has never experienced before. He’s almost sure they’ll end up doing the do in the woods, when there’s a loud crunch as Jackson stumbles across Mark’s hand.

“Oh.” He’d forgotten about the dead bodies part. “You know what. I’m way too high for this. We’ll just promise each other that we’ll keep this a secret between the two of us, and go our own ways. Thanks for the invitation to MInT, but I’ll pass.” Jackson turns to go, and then collapses where he stands.

—

“I’m sorry,” says Jaebum, standing over Jackson’s prone body. “The only way to keep a secret is if nobody knows it happened.”

Jaebum decides he’s not really that sorry. Jinyoung’s birthday is coming up, and he’ll need more than just Bambam’s thin body if he wants to harvest enough human skin to print a single edition book for Jinyoung. It really doesn’t help that Jinyoung tends not to go for the shorter books, either.

[ohfortheloveofsinbad]

A Dark Past Comes Crawling Back 6 pt 1

“It hasn’t even been fifteen minutes. Are you alright?”

Ja’far choked up for a moment. He couldn’t respond. He didn’t know how to.

“Ja’far?”

“Sin…” Ja’far breathed.

“Are you alright? Did something happen?”

The tone in his voice made Ja’far’s heart flutter. He was so lucky to have somebody like Sinbad in his life. “Sin… Sin, I-I… I need you to come get me. Now. I’m bleeding.”

“Woah, what? Did you have a kitchen accident or something?”

Ja’far could hear rustling and a door close on the other line. “No, no, not like that. I’m on Missouri Avenue.”

“Why are you all the way on the edge of town? That’s nowhere near your house.”

“Sin, I lied to you about being at home. I’m in trouble, and I need you to come and get me right now.”

“Is that why you were so worked up earlier? I’m on my way. I just got into my car. How bad are you bleeding?”

“It’s slowed down a lot,” Ja’far said as he cast a glance to his hand, which was turning purple due to how tight the band was wrapped around his wrist. With a grimace, he took off the band and held his hand to his chest to keep pressure on it, then relaxed against the brick wall he was adjacent to.

“Good. Is it a bad wound? Should I call you an ambulance?”

“Sin, I can’t attract attention to myself, alright? Can you just drive me to the hospital when you get here? Or, wait, after a quick stop at the police station?”

“Did someone do something to you?”

He sounded outraged, and Ja’far supposed it was rightfully so, but that wasn’t what he needed at the moment. “Listen, I’ll tell you everything later, but right now, I need you here.”

“I’m almost five minutes away unless I get pulled over for speeding. You promise you’ll tell me everything?”

“I promise.”

“Alright. What are your injuries?”

“Nothing fatal.”

“Ja’far.”

Ja’far winced. The tone in Sinbad’s voice meant trouble if he didn’t answer clearly. “It’s just a bloody nose and a… a, uh… a stab wound…” he said, the final part muttered in hopes it wouldn’t be heard.

“You were stabbed?!”

“Just through the hand! I can still move it for the most part. I promise you it’s fine. It’s wrapped, it stopped bleeding a while ago, it’s fine.”

“You always make your injuries seem like less than they really are. If I get there and you’re worse off than you said, you’re in trouble.”

Ja’far’s eyes narrowed as he saw lights slowly approach his hiding place. His voice dropped to a whisper. “I get it. Hey, are those lights yours?”

“What? I’m still a couple minutes away.”

Ja’far gulped and shifted closer to the garbage bin, then pressed himself as close to the wall as he could. He ducked his head down and tried not to move. He began to speak again, his voice no more than a faint whisper. “Sin, find a place to park. Don’t come here yet. I’m going to be quiet for a little bit. I’ll tell you when it’s safe for you to start driving again.”

“What’s happening?”

“I think I’ve been followed. Please, just find a place to park. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m calling the cops.”

“Don’t!” Ja’far hissed. “These are dangerous guys, Sin. Cops will make things worse, so just wait it out and shut up for a bit!”

He heard two doors open and close, then the sound of two pairs of feet jumping onto asphalt.

“Fine, fine, but if something goes wrong, cops are getting called.”

Ja’far didn’t say anything. He just clutched his phone to his chest with the speaker pointed toward him in case Sinbad spoke again. He could hear two voices as the lights grew closer.

“I doubt he’s far off from here,” came the all too familiar, now terrifying voice of Ghadir.

“How do you know? The guy’s tricky. He’s probably at the police station right now,” said another man whose voice Ja’far couldn’t place.

“Are you kidding me? He’d be at the hospital first. You should’ve seen his hand. My knife went clear through it.”

“I can’t believe you let him get away. You’re so fucking stupid, man.”

“Shut up! Anyone else would’ve had just as many problems! I’d like to see you try to fucking get the guy. I’m lucky I didn’t get stabbed or some shit. He always has some stupid trick up his sleeve.”

“I guess you know him better than any of the rest of us, but still. You should’ve brought someone with you. You’re fucking stupid.”

“Can you just- just fucking shut your damn mouth, Joseph. He knows can’t get away from us. We’ll find him eventually.”

Ja’far tensed up and grit his teeth nervously as he heard footsteps move closer and closer to him. He saw a light make its way down to the end of the alley, then come back down, constantly flicking side to side as though it were searching every last crevice for some trace of its target.

The light then shone itself near his feet, then moved along the side of the garbage bin, which cast a long, dark shadow over him, but he was luckily close enough to the bin and the wall that his form was not cast in the shade.

Ja’far carefully placed one of his hands on the ground and silently moved his feet into a widespread position so that he could get up and run if they caught him.

“Dumbass, he’s not in there. Quit wasting time,” came the voice of the accomplice, Joseph.

“We both know how fucking tricky he is, man. He could be anywhere,” Ghadir protested.

“Do you really think he’d be so stupid as to hide so close to where you were about to fucking murder him? You’re stupid. Let’s get back in the car and check a few blocks away. My guess is that he’s tried to get as far away as he can.”

“You know what? If you’re so fucking smart, you can drive, you can hold the damn flashlight, and you can find him,” Ghadir said. Ja’far heard a grunt and someone stumble back.

“You do that one more god damn time and I’ll make you walk, bastard. Get in the stupid car and see how much better I am than you.”

“Fine!”

Ja’far let out a slow sigh and relaxed as he heard the two walk away. He brought the phone back up to his ear when he heard two car doors slam shut, but stayed quiet until he heard the car drive away.

“Okay, Sin. You can start driving again. Just be careful,” he said softly.

“I’m maybe a mile away, are you alright?”

“You kept driving after I told you not to?!”

“I stopped! I wanted to be closer in case you got hurt!”

“Sin, if they catch you, you’re dead.”

“I still have that gun you gave me.”

“Do you even know how to use it?”

“See, that’s a question that’s completely off topic to what we were-“

“So that’s a no.”

“I figured that if I pulled it, it’d give you some time to do something.”

“God, I’m so glad you didn’t come.”

“Rude. Where are you?”

“I’m in an alleyway.”

“Yeah, that’s a dead giveaway.”

“Just… I’ll step out so you can see me,” Ja’far said as he stood up. He crept to the end of the alleyway and looked left and right to check if he was safe, then stepped out into plain view on the sidewalk.

“What street are you on?”

“I don’t see any signs. I’m on the one at the very edge of town, near the woods, not the fields. I’m in the shop district, if that helps.”

“Oh, alright. I think I know where you are.”

“Thank God.”

Ja’far waited in silence for a short while until he saw headlights round a corner at the very end of the street and approach slowly until he was bathed in their light.

“Ja’far, you’re covered in blood! What the hell-“

Ja’far ended the call and walked to the car with a sigh. He opened the door and plopped down onto the passenger’s seat.

“You hung up on me,” Sinbad pouted.

“You were right there,” Ja’far said. “Police station, please.”

“No, we’re going to the hospital first,” Sinbad declared as he drove forward. “You’re covered in blood.”

“The hospital is probably the first place they’re going to check!” Ja’far said in a panic. “Please, Sin, just take me to the police station first. We’ll be safer there, even if we’re caught.”

“Who’s chasing you?” Sinbad asked. “You never told me. I’m worried.”

“… Sham Lash,” Ja’far mumbled. He knew by the silence that followed that Sinbad had gone pale in fear.

“You’re kidding,” was all Sinbad could say.

Ja’far shook his head as little tears pricked his eyes.

“Shit…”

“Sin, I thought we did everything to keep this from happening…” Ja’far whimpered, his strong face finally fading. “We changed my name, I don’t use social media, I wear these stupid color contacts all the time… how the hell did they find me?”

Sinbad pulled over to the curb and parked. He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “My guess is that they hacked into confidential files or something,” he said honestly.

“How are we going to get out of this?” Ja’far sniffed. “If they have my information, they no doubt have yours as well. They probably have the names for everyone at the company. We’re all in danger.”

Sinbad let out a long breath. “It’ll cost a lot of money… But we could probably shut down this main branch and relocate it somewhere else. Maybe New York? Or we could do Texas. It’d shorten the shipping time for new products,” he said.

“Sin, we can’t just move everyone across the country,” Ja’far said with a sigh. “Plus, Sham Lash would still have our names and passwords and everything.”

“I can move as many people who are willing, and then we change our names and passwords,” Sinbad suggested.

“Sin, you- ugh, it’s not that easy! It’s like you think we can make all that happen in a day-“

“I never said that!”

“It seems like your way of thinking!” Ja’far huffed. He crossed his arms, wincing when he tucked his injured hand in the crook of his elbow. “Listen, maybe… maybe we can get lucky. I’m their target. For all they know, you’re just my boss and I’m just an assistant. You didn’t put me in the database as your vice president, did you?”

“To my knowledge and your request, you’re still labeled as my assistant,” Sinbad said. “What are you getting at?”

“I could go incognito for a while. I could change my name again, dye my hair, maybe switch out these contacts for a new color, then lie low for a couple years until this all blows over.”

[julybrown]

Thump

Most of my writing comes from a caffeine-heightened anxiety and this story is no different.

Thump

A cool, wet air dews on her skin. She clutches the windowsill tightly, tight enough to hurt. Her eyes scan the street below, searching for something she knows won’t be there. All she can see is brick and pavement, and the sickly yellow light of her kitchen reflected back off of the building next door.

Street lights illuminate a foggy highway.

A young woman, naked, with long, black matted hair crouches in the corner of a dark and musty room. There are no windows, and a single light bulb hangs from the ceiling. She cowers, but prepares to fight. She is not alone.

Lieutenant Mark Maxwell stands on the lip of a forest, staring into it, thinking.

A teenage boy pulls open a drawer in his parents’ living room. Even in the moonlit dark, he finds what he was looking for. He holds it in his left hand, his good hand, and lets his arm hang loose, feeling the weight of the iron revolver.

There’s a strange sound from the far, dark side of the room, and she tightens her grip on the piece of rebar she found. Her throat hurts. She touches it, but feels nothing unusual. She doesn’t know where she is or how she got there.

Maggie sighs, closes the window, and gets out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

He never thought the gun would be so dark, barely a glint of moonlight reflected in the polished steel, as if it eats the light.

“Exercise in futility.” It was a favorite phrase of one of his teachers back in training. It came to him now. This whole damn investigation was an “exercise in futility.” Maybe our missing shooter came back here, Mark thought, seven hours after escaping police custody, to leave her ID and directions to her safehouse. Maybe she was just sitting there, waiting for us to take her in again. That’d be nice wouldn’t it, Mark?

A car pulls over to the side of the highway. Its headlights cast an eerie halo through the fog.

It isn’t cold. He had expected it to feel cold, but it is… comfortable. If not for the weight, he could almost forget he was holding it.

Her lighter flickers but fails to catch. She swears, and tosses it into the sink. The sounds of her neighbor’s tv set seeps through the walls, calling attention to the emptiness and quietude of her apartment. She grabs her keys and the stack of flyers and leaves.

A woman fatally shot another woman in a busy grocery store in the middle of the day, evaded police, and ran into a forest, one consisting of no more than four hundred acres, the smallest in the district. State and local authorities cooperated, a miracle unto itself, but couldn’t even find a trace of her, a worse sort of miracle. Three times they searched these woods, not to mention the better part of western Oklahoma, with dogs, helicopters, you name it. Still nothing. Lieutenant Maxwell checks his watch. In less than twelve hours, the FBI will officially take control of the case. They have the money, the resources, the time to get this done. So why the hell am I still standing here?

The engine shuts off, and the matte black car is almost invisible by the side of the road. After a couple minutes, someone steps out of the car.

She straightens out. She’s tall, almost six feet. She taps the metal bar against her leg, lightly, just to get a sense of it.

He’s about to leave when he sees something through the trees. A flashlight, or maybe a car on the other side of the woods. He pulls his radio out to call for backup, but stops himself. Good chance this was nothing. A passing car, maybe even local kids camping out. He doesn’t need a reputation as a ghost-chaser, one of those cops that didn’t know when to give up, spent their careers doing things like looking for bloodstains in a room long since repainted. He shuts the volume off and enters the woods, gun in hand.

It had been less than a week but Maggie already had a method for this. First, she picked a direction to drive in. As she wove through OKC, she stopped at every other lamppost, or twice per block. Through the suburbs, only once per block.

She pulls over to a telephone pole and gets the stapler and a flyer from the stack. She is back on the road in under a minute. There is a lot of ground to cover: ten more blocks of suburbs, then almost thirty miles of highway (pulling over every fifth lamppost and every overpass) until the rest stop. There she will get a cup of coffee, turn around, and do the whole thing in reverse.

Behind her, on lampposts, telephone poles, and mailboxes, her daughter’s smiling face looks out on Oklahoma City from under big red capitals: “MISSING.”

The figure leans back against the car, and pulls on an e-cigarette. The little red light almost brightens their face. Almost.

When it finally emerges from the shadows, she is ready. All teeth, scales, and slime, it leaps at her. She doesn’t think, she acts. Her biological programming takes over, epinephrine and norepinephrine flood her bloodstream, and she isn’t a scared woman in a basement, she is a cavewoman beating back a sabertooth tiger. She swings the iron spike and smashes the thing across its head, knocking it to the floor.

The cylinder is empty. Each chamber was scored, by design or by wear he doesn’t know. The cartridges jingle pleasingly in his other hand.

They pull out their phone and check the time. There isn’t much left. Dawn isn’t for another few hours, sure, but the sun has a way of sneaking up, of hitting you quick and hard at the exact wrong moment. They know that all too well. With their hands cupped to their mouth, they whistle five quick notes. They’ll be damned if they could remember what bird it was supposed to be.

It’s only down for a few moments before it jumps at her again. She swings, but is too late. She catches it in the ribs as its teeth sink into her shoulder. She tries to scream but finds that no sound comes out.

The lieutenant curses himself for not taking a greater interest in hunting. He had never wanted to go out with his dad when he offered. A shame, his dad knew nature, knew the woods. Animal noises were a second language to him. There had been two calls, one to the east, the other to the north, deeper in the wood. He hurries his pace. His dad would know whether that was a real bird or not.

The cylinder makes a satisfying sound when he spins it, matched only by the pop of it being put back in place.

She is actually getting tired. She hadn’t been tired since Janie… since Tuesday. She doesn’t get back in the car, not yet, not right away at least. Instead, she gets out a cigarette and sits on the traffic barrier, trying to avoid her daughter’s gaze from the flyer.

She whales on the thing’s back with the rebar and her fist until it releases her. It swings its tail and knocks her over onto her back. She falls hard, scraping her skin on the rough cement floor. She rolls and dodges its pounce, then rolls back on top of it. Straddling it, she beats it again, but it slithers out of her hold, and clamps its teeth down on her arm. She tries to scream again, but only a hoarse wheeze comes out. Still able to move her hand a little, she shoves the bar into one of its eyes. Using her free hand, she bangs on the end of it, driving it deeper into its skull, until it stops moving and they both collapse.

Headlights. Those were definitely headlights, just beyond the trees. And someone sitting. An accomplice, waiting for the fugitive? Maxwell steps out of the woods, gun drawn on the person.

“Hands in the air, right now!” He says. She drops her cigarette and complies. He approaches with caution. A middle-aged woman, likely mid-forties, thin, and smells like nicotine. He pats her down and finds nothing but her lighter.

“ID?” He asks.

“In the car,” she says. He pulls her purse out and rifles through it until he finds her license. Margaret Stapleton, age forty-seven, Oklahoma resident.

“What the hell are you doing on the side of the highway at four in the morning?” He says.

“Flyering.” She motions to the car. He looks in and sees the stack of MISSING posters.

“Oh.” He clears his throat and hands her back her license. “You’re free to go, ma’am. Stay safe out there.”

“You too,” she mumbles, and gets in the car. He watches her drive off, her car glowing as the sun crests the horizon.

“Shit.” He spits and radios for a pickup.

A second figure emerges from the woods, panting and snapping twigs and leaves underfoot. “Took you long enough,” the driver says. The other ignores it, and gets into the passenger seat. The driver takes a last puff, pockets the e-cig, and gets in. Within a minute, they’re out of sight, safe from the sun.

Those few ounces of lead and copper made all the difference. The added weight gives the pistol a totemic aura. He wonders if it drew strength from him or he from it. He holds it up, two handed, centered, none of that showy action movie nonsense. This is a special object, one that deserves respect. It has intention, it means something. Trying to understand this meaning, he sits and holds the gun in his open palms, letting it speak to him in images of smoke and the smell of iron and the sound of screams, but he’s snapped out of his reverie. Beneath him, in the basement, there is a thump, like something heavy falling over.