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peterparker-pickedapepper · 3 years

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Always You

(Peter Parker/Spider-Man x Stark!Reader)

Chapter 01

A/N: this is set during Homecoming (and eventually FFH) in a universe where Tony isn’t ☠️ bc we don’t acknowledge that trauma here 🙂 also, there are elements from the comics and the older movies, but it’s still in the MCU

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I never meant to find it.

And I wasn’t being nosy either. It was my dads fault, really. Okay so yes, I wasn’t supposed to be in his workshop. But is it my fault he just leaves important things lying around? Mom’s told him to keep it tidy enough times you think it’d be engrained in his brain.

Anyway, the how isn’t important. Not even the why matters. It’s everything that came after.

It was the day my world began falling apart.

The moment I lost all trust—all respect—for the two men closest to my heart.

Now that I know their secret, I don’t see how I’ll be able to look them in the eye. But I’m going to do it. I’m going to keep my head up, act as normal as possible...

And see how long it takes for them to tell me themselves.

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Three Months Earlier

“I’m here on the corner of fifth and main, just a street away from the reported sighting of a flying man causing panic among the locals.”

Y/N adjusted her fingers around the smooth base of the microphone, her skin slipping against the hard plastic. It wasn’t nerves causing the dampness on her palms, but excitement. Her eyes flickered from the camera lens pointed in her direction to her best friend standing behind it before easily finding their mark again.

“The large, mechanically winged man has been wrecking havoc in New York’s beloved neighborhood of Queens for the last—”

The ground suddenly shifted beneath her feet with a loud boom, jolting her forward and stopping her report mid-sentence. She twirled around, eyes instantly landing on the sandwich shop across the street.

Or, rather, on the man looming ominously from its roof.

She could only assume it was a man. She’d never seen his face—or any part of his body for that matter—not that his skintight suit left anything to the imagination. But the media affectionately called him “Spider-Man”, so they pretty much filled in the blanks on that one.

She watched as he seemingly surveyed the area. It was always so hard to tell what was going on behind that mask, but every time she saw him she liked to imagine a picture perfect heroic expression etched into handsome features.

It made her disdain for the local superstar a little easier to swallow down.

His head swiveled back and forth a few times, fists clenching at his sides, before he shot one of his webs and disappeared on the other side of the building. She immediately turned back toward her camerawoman, lips pulled into an excited grin.

“This is perfect. Come on.” She wasted no time in scooping up some of the equipment laying at her feet, but stopped short when she noticed the apprehensive expression staring back at her.

“I don’t think I’m really in the mood to run toward danger today.” Her best friend’s bored voice didn’t match the concern she knew was brewing just below the surface.

“MJ,” Y/N all but whined. “We need this story.”

“We need to get ready for next week’s debate.” She muttered, mild annoyance seeping through. “We need to be home in twenty minutes so your dad doesn’t kill us. We need—”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Y/N huffed, tossing the last of the camera supplies into her bag before slinging it over her shoulder.

She turned on her heel, pulling her phone from her back pocket as she moved toward the last crash that sounded a few blocks away. She was getting this story, whether she had to go alone or not. Screw her father’s arbitrary curfew. He was in India for the next few days, anyway.

“You’re serious?” MJ’s incredulous voice echoed from behind her. “What about Liz’s party?”

Y/N’s attention only wavered from the small screen in her hands once she was finished temporarily disabling the tracking feature her dad had not so subtly installed before giving it to her. He didn’t need to know she almost immediately figured out it was there, just like she didn’t need to know that he got a notification every time she hacked into the system.

Her eyes found MJ’s, wide with shock and following something in the sky above. Y/N’s head snapped upward, gaze locking on the flying man who was twisting and turning aggressively in an attempt to kick Spider-Man off his right wing.

“Yes. Very serious.” She huffed, pulse jumping with excitement. “If FRIDAY calls just, please, try to be convincing.”

With that, she spun around one last time before jogging toward the action. She knew MJ’s hesitation was coming from a good place. They’d been inseparable since middle school because they were on opposing ends of the same strong-willed base.

Where MJ was methodical and calculated, Y/N was rash and unpredictable. They were both the type to end up involved in sketchy situations, just at varying speeds and levels of grandeur. Y/N had her father to thank for that.

The iconic Tony Stark was not a pretender. He was who he was, loud and proud. He’d never apologized for it before—not even when he should’ve—and he probably never would. Y/N, on the other hand, had been pretending to be something she wasn’t for more than a decade.

He’d given her a choice when she was old enough for kindergarten. They talked about it, mapped out the pros and cons, and she made a decision. Soon after, she entered the outside world as Y/N Smith. It was the best thing her five year old brain could think of. Plus, she didn’t want her place on the alphabetical rosters to change.

She went to public schools—something Tony never missed an opportunity to mention he hated—and started paving her own way. Right now, that meant she was chasing a super-powered fight through the streets of Queens.

Since landing a highly sought after internship at The Daily Bugle, Y/N’s main priority had been impressing her overbearing bosses. That came with varying levels of complexity, depending on the superhero shenanigans of the month.

She rounded a corner into an alleyway, instantly ducking down when a blindingly bright object whizzed by her head. Her arms shot up in a protective motion as she leaned against the cool brick wall at her side. She remained there, frozen in place with a racing heart, for several seconds.

Something thumped to the concrete only a foot away from her crumpled frame, nearly making her jump out of her skin. She peeked through her arms, still crossed over her head, eyes widening as they landed on a pile of red and black fabric.

The lump groaned and slowly unraveled to reveal Queens’ favorite masked hero. He shook his head, the mechanical eyes of his suit twitching as if malfunctioning. Y/N was stuck in her spot, wide eyes hungrily drinking in every detail they could. Despite following his activity for months now, she’d never gotten this close to the mystery man.

His suit was tighter than she thought possible. It hugged his body in a way that left nothing to the imagination. The rippling muscles lining his torso were clearly visible beneath the thick material. She watched as he sat back on his heels and rubbed the side of his head, shoulders tensing as he seemed to finally realize that she was there.

“Whoa, hey.” Came his breathy, surprisingly high-pitched greeting. He cleared his throat before continuing, a steady hand extending her way. “Are you okay, miss?”

Y/N’s brow furrowed in curiosity, not missing the way his demeanor changed the moment he noticed her. It was like a flip switched. He’d turned on his superhero persona, a process she was unfortunately all too familiar with.

“I’m fine.” The words came out more forcefully than she’d intended, but she was all business now, too.

There was no way she was letting him out of her sight without getting some information. She wasn’t even worried about all the ways her bosses would kill her, she’d beat herself up enough for the missed opportunity. She ignored his hand, dusting her jeans off and hobbling to her feet before reaching for her phone to launch the recording app.

“Can I ask you a few questions, Spider-Man?” She jutted the phone out in front of her, and he took a step back as if the device would somehow hurt him.

The eyes on his mask widened, something she didn’t know was possible. “Oh. I...uh—”

Just then, the ground shook with a massive impact that couldn’t have been more than a block away. It would’ve knocked Y/N right off her feet if it weren’t for the gloved hand that shot out to stabilize her.

“Gotta go!”

By the time his hasty goodbye met her ears, he was gone. It took about ten seconds for Y/N to process what just happened before she took off running in the same direction he’d swung in. She was too far in to give up now. At this point, she’d settle for some shaky footage of the fight. It’d be enough to satisfy her editors for a few days.

She ran out in the street, stopping abruptly as a stampede of people swarmed her. Elbows and shoulders rammed into her sides as she tried fighting her way through the panic.

“Oh, come on people! Chill the fuck out!” She found herself shouting to deaf ears.

Maybe it was because she grew up immersed in the superhero way of life, or her bordering on unhealthy need to get some kind of story tonight, but either way she was aggravated by the public reaction more than anything.

She was rarely scared anymore, even when faced with imminent danger. Admittedly, she didn’t have a good gauge for when she might be getting herself into trouble. Another thing she blamed her father for.

Her eyes remained trained on the sky, watching the fight unfold in mid-air. She cringed as Spider-Man nearly fell off the homemade-looking flying suit. He quickly regained his balance, shooting a web into one of the back engines. It immediately started sputtering as the metal clanked and caught in the sticky substance.

They were going down, and fast. She knew this was probably her last chance to get any kind of discernable footage of the event, so she reached into her back pocket for her phone. It was at this moment that someone decided to shove into her so hard that she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground.

A rush of air left her lungs as she hit the asphalt, hard. She couldn’t help but wince as pain shot up both of her arms. There would definitely be bruises she’d need to hide later. Thankfully, at least she ended up near the curb so she wasn’t instantly trampled to death by the screaming crowd.

She pushed herself up into a sitting position and huffed, wiping away the tiny rocks that were now embedded into her palms. She was about to hobble to her feet and call tonight a wash when her eyes landed on a blueish-purple glow coming from a nearby alley.

Maybe she wouldn’t get any useable footage tonight, but a souvenir would lift her spirits and, hopefully, her credibility in the office. Without wasting anymore time, she stumbled to her feet and ducked into the darkness of the cramped space.

She followed the pulsating light, stopping only when her eyes landed on a small, metallic object. It had a thin silver cage protecting what looked like a gem or rock of some kind. Nothing too crazy, aside from the whole glowing thing. Her brows furrowed with curiosity as she crouched down to get a better view.

She had absolutely no idea what it was, and she’d seen a lot of weird things in her dads workshop. The only thing she could compare it to was some of the alien technology that’d been leftover from the Battle of New York. She’d run a few stories about that herself, plus saw her dad tinkering with some things since Thor took Loki back to Asgard.

Figuring she could show it to him at the very least, she pulled the end of her sleeve over her hand and grabbed it. She let her bag slip off of her shoulder and quickly unzipped it before sliding the object inside.

Just then, the sound of screeching metal filled her ears at a deafening volume. She managed to close her bag before covering her ears and ducking against the brick alley wall. The crowd still surrounding the area screamed in horror.

She watched with wide eyes as the huge bird-man landed on the rooftop just a few feet away from her crouched form. It was the closest she’d been to the masked—villain? She wasn’t sure—and he was far more intimidating than she’d first assumed.

His glowing beady green eyes didn’t so much as glance in her direction as he slung Spider-Man over the edge of the building, the tip of one of his wings wrapped around his throat.

An involuntary gasp tore through her chest.

It wasn’t that she was worried about the hero. For one, she knew he was more than capable of fending for himself. It wasn’t even that she cared if he got hurt. He was mostly an annoyance to her, his illusive nature making her job way harder than usual.

But if she knew one thing in this moment, it was that the bird-man was the bad guy, and she couldn’t let him win.

So, she did something really stupid.

She found the closest thing that she thought might actually do any kind of damage—which was, unfortunately, an old bike helmet next to the dumpster—and chucked it at the pair.

It hit one of the metal wings with a pathetic clink and all three of them froze.

Y/N held her breath as the man’s head turned in her direction slowly. Way too slowly. Like ‘I’m going to really enjoy killing you’ slowly.

After that, everything happened impossibly fast.

“Hey! Watch out!”

She barely had time to recognize the panicked voice before she was flying. Her stomach flipped and she couldn’t even scream, overcome with sudden vertigo. She pinched her eyes shut the second she saw the top of a building and clutched onto whatever was carrying her away.

If it was the weird bird guy, she accepted whatever evil plan he had. But, if it was Spider-Man, she was going to kill him.

It must’ve only been seconds before her feet touched solid ground, but it felt like an eternity to her. The moment she felt the stability beneath her, she began fighting against her captor.

“Let me go! Oh my god. If you don’t put me down right now—”

“What the hell—ow!”

Once she was free, she staggered away from him with a huff. She cleared the hair out of her eyes and bent over, resting her hands on her knees as she attempted to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding wildly and her stomach was still doing summer-salts.

She raised her eyes to send a withering glare toward the masked man. “Never do that shit again.”

He stared at her—at least she assumed—for a long moment before taking a step forward.

“What the hell was that? You could’ve gotten yourself hurt.” He gestured wildly with his hands, clearly agitated.

“That’s one way to thank me for saving your life.” Y/N ground out, sounding way more bitter than she would’ve liked.

“Saving my—” The eyes on his mask narrowed incredulously. “You did not save my life. All you did was distract me and put like ten other people in danger.”

She couldn’t help but scoff. “Please. Spare me the morality speech, Spider-Man. We both know you don’t bother worrying about people like me.”

Y/N was all too familiar with how superheroes think. When they’re in the middle of a fight, all they care about is winning. They usually have a bigger mission to accomplish. One that doesn’t concern itself with the lives left behind.

“People like you are all I worry about, trust me.”

With that harsh declaration, a heavy silence fell between them. Y/N clenched her jaw tightly, biting her tongue to prevent the floodgates from opening. Spider-Man wasn’t the only one who deserved her hostility toward superheroes, he just happened to be the one in front of her now.

Instead of speaking her mind, she turned on her heel and stalked away from him. At this point, it was late. The sun had set and her dad surely knew she wasn’t home when she promised. She had to accept that today just wasn’t her day and head back for some damage control.

Peter, feeling his chest tighten with regret for the way he’d snapped, followed closely behind her quick steps.

“Wait!” She actually stopped, something he wasn’t expecting, so he rammed right into her back. His hands quickly wrapped around her biceps as she spun around. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I, uh...”

He didn’t know what to say. This was the second time in one night he’d run into her, but he was still dumbstruck. The circumstances weren’t ideal. He thought he’d lost her earlier, but then she had to go and put herself in danger.

He took a step away from her, dropping his hands and rubbing at the back of his neck nervously. He had to remind himself that she had no idea who he was. Even if he did embarrass himself—like he usually did around her—she wouldn’t know it was him when they saw each other in the halls come Monday.

“At least let me get you home.” He insisted, feeling bad that he’d indirectly kept her out so late.

Y/N pursed her lips, immediately wanting to accept his offer but trying not to give too much away. Truthfully, she was exhausted. She just wanted to get home and deal with the fallout disobeying her curfew would bring so she could get some sleep.

“Alright.” She sighed, pulling anxiously at the straps of her bag. She knew this meant she’d have to swing through the streets again, something she wasn’t nearly ready to do.

Nevertheless, she allowed Spider-Man to walk toward her. She averted her eyes as he wrapped an arm around her back and tried not to let her breath catch when his gloved fingers skimmed the exposed skin of her lower back where her shirt had ridden up.

Warmth enveloped her as his proximity settled in. Under his mask, Peter’s face was burning. This was by far the closest he’d been to his classmate. Or any girl, actually. Not wanting to think about it for a second longer, he shot a web toward a nearby building and followed the directions Y/N yelled out.

Within minutes, they landed on the helipad outside her front door.

Peter felt his stomach drop with realization once he let his eyes wander around the outside of the huge building.

“Oh my god. Is this seriously where you live?” He cleared his throat after squeaking out the question, not necessarily wanting to give away his shock.

“What?” Y/N scoffed teasingly. “Don’t I look like a spoiled rich girl?”

“That’s not—I wasn’t—” He didn’t know what he was trying to say, honestly. There were endless questions flitting through us mind at warp speed.

If she lived here, at the Avengers Tower, did that mean she was one of them? And he just hadn’t met her yet? Or did she work for Mr. Stark? But she was so young. He guessed she could be an assistant or something. Maybe she worked for Pepper? Or Happy? Or, she could—

Y/N rolled her eyes, deciding to spare him the embarrassment of sputtering any more. “My dad is famous...like helped form the Avengers famous.”

Peter’s mind went blank. He wasn’t expecting that.

“Cap?” It was the first name to spill out of his mouth. “Wait, can he even have kids?”

Y/N couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her at his assumption. “He totally can, but no.”

“Oh.” The gears of his brain started turning again and realization slowly dawned on him. He felt his throat run dry as his eyes widened behind his mask. “Oh.”

Shit. This was way worse. He couldn’t believe he had no idea who she really was. Sure, she used a different last name at school, but he should’ve seen the resemblance sooner.

“Look, I know you two have worked together.” Y/N sighed, thinking back to all those weeks her dad was gone fighting Steve and the rest of his friends for no real reason. “Can you just...not tell him about this?”

Peter’s brows furrowed in confusion. Why wouldn’t she want Mr. Stark knowing that she’d been with him?

Either way, he agreed, since he had a favor to ask of his own. “Only if you won’t.”

She gave him this dumbfounded look, and he knew he had to elaborate.

“He made me this suit before the whole thing with Captain America, so I thought he would keep giving me missions, but now it’s been months and he won’t return my calls. I’m lucky if I get through to Happy. He doesn’t want me getting involved in this stuff, so...”

It struck Y/N then how weird it was to hear a superhero talk about her family so casually. It didn’t seem possible that the two of them were in the same circles. Sure, she’d practically grown up with a few of the world’s most famous heroes, but somehow Spider-Man was different.

He was local. And elusive. A pure mystery to her.

“What exactly is this stuff?” She thought back to the weird glowing object in her bag, having almost forgotten it was there.

“I don’t know.” Peter shook his head, seemingly defeated. “I thought it was just neighborhood stuff, but those guns...I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Alien tech.” Y/N said without hesitation, although she wasn’t actually positive that’s what it was. “My dad has some in his workshop. It was leftover from the Battle of New York.”

“How does it work?” Peter found himself asking excitedly, easily pushing all the other revelations from this conversation to the back of his mind.

“I don’t know.” She admitted, looking away from him as her chest tightened with emotion. “I’ve never gotten close enough to any of it to see. He likes to keep me out of things too...”

It was at that moment, as a breath of silence settled between them, that they realized she was still in his arms. Y/N’s face erupted with heat and she quickly pushed herself away from him. Once her feet were back on the ground, they both stepped backward to create some much needed distance.

“I, ah...better get back...”

“Yeah, yeah. I have to go too...”

They looked at each other for a few long moments. It was at if neither of them truly wanted to separate, but knew they had to. It was clear, though, that they’d just formed some kind of connection.

Y/N felt something strange—and wildly inappropriate—brewing in her chest. A certain kind of attraction toward the masked hero she’d never considered before. It appalled her, honestly. It wasn’t like she hated the guy, but she certainly didn’t like him. And she had no idea who he was. He could be eight years old, for all she knew.

With that realization, she turned on her heel and stalked down the narrow entrance to the Avengers Tower, her face still burning. She heard the thwip of Spider-Man’s webbing and knew he’d be gone if she looked back. So she didn’t.

She pressed her hand against the touchpad outside the front door and quickly slipped inside once it recognized her prints. She sighed heavily and let herself fall back against the door, the comfort of home enveloping her.

The peace was short lived, however, as she caught sight of her mother waiting expectantly behind the bar to her left. With a glass of red wine in hand, her knowing gaze shifted from the helipad outside to Y/N’s stiff frame.

She took a slow sip, eyes narrowing over the rim of the glass.

“You’re so grounded.”

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let me know what you think!! should I continue this series??

#peter parker imagine #peter parker smut #peter parker #tony stark #mcufam #original character #marvel #the avengers #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland smut #peter parker series #mcu series #tom holland series #stark reader

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twilightofthejedi · 3 years

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chapter 2 of "sorry to my unknown lover" is up!

read on ao3 here

read chapter 1 on ao3 here and on tumblr here

chapter summary:

He is still watching his own blood settle on the ground when Vincenzo groans, stirring. Han-seok looks down at one of the shards of glass, how it turns reflective in the light. He sees his own smirk, and looks up.

It all starts now.

read under the cut below

chapter 2: prometheus

Jang Han-seok slips his phone into his pocket. It had been almost child’s play getting his personal effects back after his brief stint in jail, and he has no intention of returning.

Not when he has who he wants right in front of him.

He looks down at the great Vincenzo Cassano, unconscious and tied to a chair. His hair is matted with his own blood, and there is glass embedded in his knees. Han-seok bends to take out the glass, and wraps the wounds with cloth. It wouldn’t do to have Vincenzo’s wounds get infected too early. He does, after all, want him to be conscious for the next part of his plan.

At first, as he had watched Vincenzo and Cha-young banter easily on the sidewalk outside the plaza, bitter green jealousy twisting his stomach like acid, he had considered taking Cha-young instead. Wouldn’t it be nice to toy with Vincenzo from afar, dangling things like Cha-young’s glittery earrings in front of him, forcing him to come to her and scream in fear for her life?

It would, but he had realized that he didn’t need Cha-young to toy with Vincenzo. He could do that from two feet away from him, in a warehouse with nobody around them for miles.

Funny, really, how many abandoned warehouses there are, with nobody to care about them or even think twice about the screams coming from them.

The screams that he has every intention of pulling from Vincenzo.

He picks up one of the glass shards that he had pulled from Vincenzo, and runs his finger along the jagged edge of it. It pricks his finger, and the blood catches the industrial lighting overhead. He watches idly as the blood beads up and falls to the ground. It sits there, staining the gray concrete a dull brown.

It all starts now.

“Noona , I can help.”

Both Cha-young and Mr. Nam look up with a start, and see Jang Han-seo standing there, shirt rumpled and tie askew. He is holding a computer and some sort of device, and his eyes are bloodshot.

She can only stare at him. “What are you doing here?”

“I got the text from hyungnim, too. That is what’s going on, right?” He looks in between them, eyes darting like he is nervous. Cha-young remembers a flippant line in Han-seo’s folder in the guillotine file: He was abused and tortured by his older brother for years, and resultant drug addiction , takes in Han-seo’s slightly shaking fingers, and decides to take a chance.

“What did he say in his message to you?” Mr. Nam says, seemingly reading her mind. He beckons Han-seo closer, and pulls out a chair for him to sink into. Han-seo unlocks his phone and sets it on the table, along with the computer and mysterious gadget. The message is nearly identical to the one that she had received but in context, significantly more terrifying: Hi Han-seo. Did you miss me? You can’t get rid of me that easily, little brother.

The picture and its caption are different, too. The picture is of a man’s hand, presumably Han-seok’s, holding a bloody watch, Vincenzo’s bare, pale wrist in the blurry background. Mr. Nam inhales sharply at the sight, and Cha-young impatiently clicks to the caption.

One more.

Cha-young has read her former hoobae ’s folder in the File; she knows what the watch signifies. For a second, she is standing outside a makgeolli shop on a rainy night, a clear plastic umbrella falling from her fingers that have suddenly gone numb, and pushing past bystanders who have gathered to watch; dispassionate, uncaring, apathetic bystanders watching one man die and another struggle to live, and sees the hundreds of sticky notes that had been stuck to the wall for months until she finally allowed herself to take them down. She stands up abruptly, and the other two men stumble to their feet after her.

“Byeonhosa-nim ?” Mr. Nam asks tentatively.

“Han-seo, what’s the laptop for?”

“Do you know where hyung is right now?” he asks abruptly. They both shake their heads. In the past few hours, Cha-young and Mr. Nam have come up with a plan for what to do when they find Han-seok, but they have been stumped on how to find him. It wasn’t like he had conveniently called them that they could track his phone, and surveillance footage courtesy of Mi-ri and Agent Ahn hadn’t turned up anything useful.

“I didn’t think so,” Han-seo continues. “You both know about his practice of collecting watches, right?” Cha-young exchanges a glance with Mr. Nam, who turns a delicate shade of green. She nods.

“ Hyungnim likes to wear the watches that he collects. He switches them around, wears a different one everyday. Never even matches them to his outfit. It’s ridiculous.” Han-seo trails off, rambling about sports watch and black suit, and Cha-young realizes she needs to steer the conversation back to relevancy.

“Han-seok has no fashion sense. So?” she asks, feeling her patience fray with every passing second. With every passing second Vincenzo could be getting tortured, or dying, or both at the same time.

Cha-young owns exactly one black hanbok . She has worn it three times in her life. First to her mother’s funeral, standing silently in the funeral parlor, fuming when her father stepped out to take a call from a client. The next time was nearly ten years later, for her father’s funeral. Then she had felt nothing, just a cold sea of emptiness, right until she saw the picture of them both at her law school graduation, at which point she had been punctured like a balloon, or a plant cell with too much water intake. The last and most recent time was at Vincenzo’s mother’s funeral. Then she had felt a bone deep sorrow, and a dizzying feeling of inevitability, like this was going to be the rest of her life. Going to funerals of people taken from her much too soon.

She refuses, however, to take out that hanbok again. Let it collect dust on its hanger in her closet. Let it fade with time. She refuses to lose anyone else, and she refuses to lose Vincenzo.

She’ll be damned if she lets Jang Han-seok change that.

“So,” Han-seo says, typing on the laptop. “I installed trackers in all of the watches. I’m finding his current location right now.” He looks up at them. “He will try to control the action from now on. His plan is probably to keep baiting you, noona , with pieces of information about Vin- hyung to keep you dependent on him. But now that we know where he is, we can confront him on our own terms. I mean, your terms. Because it’s your plan.” he finishes slightly awkwardly.

He turns the laptop to face them, and she and Mr. Nam crouch down to see. The blip on the screen is pointing to a warehouse over twenty miles outside of Seoul, which makes sense.

Cha-young looks both of her companions in the eye. “Let’s get to work.”

“Had a nice rest?”

Vincenzo leans back in the hard wooden chair he is strapped to. “It’s not first class, but it’ll do, I suppose.”

In front of him, Jang Han-seok sneers. Vincenzo just stares at him patiently. His initial few seconds when he woke up had remained unknown to his captor. He had lain there, still and silent, breathing evenly, to try and get a feel for his situation. Once he had deduced that there was only one person with him, and that they weren’t in the city, he had allowed himself to groan and let Han-seok know that he was awake. Now that his eyes are open and he has swept the area and can visualize it in his mind’s eye, he has nothing else to do other than let Han-seok show his hand.

After all, Jang Han-seok is nothing if not dependably predictable.

True to form, Han-seok stands abruptly. “Shall we take a picture? I’m sure sunbae would love to see how you’re doing right now.”

“I’m sure you’ve already sent her a picture, but go ahead.”

His captor narrows his eyes at him, and then strides away, out of sight. Vincenzo takes the opportunity to close his eyes and collect his thoughts. It’s been far too long since he was kidnapped. The last time was two years ago, when he woke up and found himself in a vineyard in Sicily, bound hand and foot.

He had burned the entire place down, as well as everyone in it.

Now, however, he cannot recklessly escape, or else he will lead Cha-young right into a trap. He has no doubt that she will find him and bring the right people and use the right resources to rescue him.

He knows this. He knows the competency of everyone that he has worked with for the past few months.

Over the past fifteen years, he has carried out more illegal acts than he can remember. He has burned, stolen, framed, defamed, and killed and killed and killed. He has not regretted much of it, save for one thing. Collateral.

Vincenzo knows that his actions after coming to Korea are in somewhat of a gray area. Yes, they are illegal, and very much dangerous, but they are justified . They are a means to a very much honorable end, and he doesn’t regret them. No, what he regrets is the collateral. Before, the word collateral had served as nothing more than a clinical way to refer to the people that got hurt in the crossfire. Collateral was a number, a number of people, an amount of money needed to fix it, statistics on a page in il capo’s ledger that got crossed off with a fountain pen, the book shut before the ink finished drying.

However, he still remembers straightening to his feet, his pointer finger still stained with fresh blood after tracing the letter C into the rapidly spreading bloodstain on the floor. He had scanned the area, because there was nothing that the capo hated more than loose ends on a job. When he had looked into the car, he had inhaled sharply, because there was a child cowering in the backseat, curled around a worn stuffed animal.

But now, collateral is the faces of people that he does not want to see gone. Against his will, he has become fond of every person living in Geumga Plaza, who has told him, with shining eyes, that he had given them something to fight for. They have all been living from day to day, not expecting much of the days to come, and now they veritably shine in their daily lives.

It’s like someone lit a fire underneath them, and once that fire was lit, no one could dare to extinguish it.

He shifts in his chair, and prepares to wait for Jang Han-seok to come back. Cha-young will come for him, and they will rain hell upon the world after that.

Until then, Vincenzo has no problem in being the one who dared to light up the world. The one who stepped down to earth, a fistful of flames in his palm. The one who bestowed heat and light and warmth and life to the world.

He does not regret his past actions, for he has kindled flames from smothered embers, and no one can put them out. For this, he will gladly be their fallen Titan, their Prometheus.

#vincenzo #chayenzo #vincenzo cassano #hong cha young #jang han seo #jang han seok #chayenzo fanfic #my writing #my fic

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crazyfreckledginger · 4 years

Text

Batboys x Batsis!Reader - “Out Of The Dark” [Part 1]

Waiting desperately to be saved from a kidnapping, you end up being brainwashed to be used against your own brothers.

Requested by @flashdash626: “Hi! I’m not sure if your taking requests, so if your not then you can choose to ignore this. Anyways! I was hoping you could do a Batsis were the sister is kidnapped by a random villain, and once the boys find her its to late and she was brainwashed and was now under control of the random villain. Once they like knock her out they bring her to the cave and try to bring her memories back. After a little bit of them talking to her her mind snaps and shes back to normal and she gets all emotional”

A/N: I know how this looks, I was really inspired since I was stuck on another fic and ended up writing three parts to this I’m sorry T-T

Warning: angst, violence, swearing

Eyes fluttered closed as the sound of rails lulled her to sleep. University had been so tiring this week, having to finish a whole project by the end of the week, in which the guidelines had been given on Monday. A lot of preparation and running around in order to polish a well researched and thorough end result.

The lack of sleep, tiring long hours and accumulated stress had finally left her body as soon as she handed in the work two hours before the deadline was scheduled. To say that fatigue had taken it’s toll on her was an understatement.

For a Friday late afternoon, the train was quite empty heading towards Gotham, but then again, no one wants to go there willingly. Her eyes fluttered closed, mind numbing, it was still two stops into the city, each of which are more or less an hour long, she had time, even if it’s only a thirty minute- one hour nap at most. Too much sleep and it was disrupt -- or complicate her-return-to-normal-sleep schedule.

~ I should be due at the mansion in just over two hours ~

A quick message wouldn’t hurt if there still need to be preparations.

~ Are you sure you don’t want me to pick you up? ~ DG

That was quick. Smiling, (Y/N) texted her older brother back.

~ It’s okay, you're still busy, and I’ll be back before you’ve finished your work! ~

~ But we missed you! ~ DG

~ It’s been two weeks! Besides it’s the vacation, I’ll be home for a month or so. ~

~ Fine :( ~ DG

With a chuckle, she slipped her phone back in her inside pocket. A grown ass baby.

Finally, she settled back into her seat, paying no mind to the occasional vibration of the carriage window to her head, inescapably submitting to sleep.

When she finally woke up, it was at the end of the line, the carriages were empty, doors wide open, only the occasional person walking or sitting along the platform.

Shit, the woman mentally cursed, grasping her things, and which, luckly, everything was still with her. Rushing out of the train, she scanned the screens: last train, departing in 2 hours and 30 minutes, Platform 8. The words glided along the end of the screen, in bright red dots. A disappointed sigh escaped her. At least it wasn’t late -- and dark. Well, the sun was setting.

The last stop was at the outskirts of Gotham, so she was thankful that she didn’t have to cause too much trouble getting back. Despite her nap, she was still tired -- just less so, and she would really enjoy getting into a comfy bed in the company of her brothers, father and butler.

A slightly irresponsible idea occurred to her. She could get home reaaaaally quickly if she wore her vigilante suit. The woman would be able to call her self-driving motorcycle and hurry to the Mansion in a record time. It was in her bag, and it’s not like it would hurt anyone.

As long as she was careful when changing, this wasn’t going to threaten the reveal of her identity.

With a smile, and making sure she held tightly onto the small bag she carried back with her, she briskly walked out of the train station, to an empty, dirty public bathroom.

Gross but will have to do.

After having scanned the toilet for any lewd hidden cameras, she hastily slipped into her costume, placing her civilian clothes back in her bag and creeping out onto the nearest rooftop. Activating her tracking device and then the automated call, she sat down on the ledge, sighing in relief as she got the notification that her motorcycle just headed out.

Now it was only a question of patience. Since nothing was happening, she lay down fully on the ledge, bag on the rooftop and arms under her head for more comfort.

Her eyes closed, this time, not falling asleep, but listening to the nearly inheart environment surrounding her.

That was until her phone vibrated. Sitting up, she reached for it, opening the message.

~ Where are you? I’m about to head home, but word is you’re not there yet. ~ DG

~ Yes, I missed the stop, called the Batcave, my ride should be here soon, sorry! ~

They must have been worried.

Before she could answer, she heard quick footsteps trailing behind her. Her head snapped back but before she could distinguish anyone, the silhouette landed a hard blow to her head, which probably was a metal pole.

“Fuck.” she cursed in pain, her unlocked phone dropping off the ledge, sliding down the roof and landing in the gutter, “who are you!?” (Y/N) yelled standing up clumsily as the side of her head ached.

“Lights out.” the unknown person grunted, lifting the pole high after dodging an attempted punch, slamming it to the back of her head. Her whole body smashed to the ground with violent force -- but it’s not something she felt, as she fell into unconsciousness.

****

“Where is she?” Bruce grumbled as Dick entered the Manor, an hour and a half later than planned, and after some exhausting, useless paperwork.

“What’s happening?” he frowned, seeing Robin hurry down the stairs of the Batcave.

“(Y/N) was supposed to be due, the tracker on her motorcycle hasn’t moved and she isn’t answering her phone.” Jason geared up.

“I’m coming with you,” Dick scurried to the room with his suit, slipping into it.

“We’ll be on comms if anything comes up.” Tim nodded.

It felt like a very long ride towards the location that was given to them, even though they got there very quickly.

As Nightwing’s motorcycle stopped close to their destination, he hopped off, watching the tracker from the screen on his arm, zooming in to be able to pinpoint exactly where her last place was.

Jason jumped onto the nearest rooftop, scouting the area in case it was a trap of sorts. He frowned, seeing that the coast was clear and signalling his brother his ‘go’ card.

It must have been a good half an hour before they even found a clue -- excluding her untouched motorcycle.

And it happen to make Red Hood jump out of his skin. Good thing Nightwing was still scouting the ground otherwise he would have been seriously embarrassed.

The gutter buzzed, it was utterly unnerving. Cautiously, he approached the roaring object, staring down at it as he spotted a phone. It was unlocked and vibrating widely.

Crouching down, he grasped and inspected it.

(Y/N)’s definitely. And he didn’t like where this was going. It was Damian this time, calling her -- in addition to like 78 missed calls and numerous texts.

“Found her phone, she’s definitely gotten kidnapped.” The man announced nonchalantly, but his heart was beating fast. Their sister? Kidnapped at an unusually early time of the night? Hours after she got back into Gotham? Someone must have been keeping an eye out and planning.

And given the fact that nothing has come up, it might not be a usual Gotham criminal.

“We might have a problem.” Dick spoke through his comms.

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metaphorical-love-for-a-car · 4 years

Text

Same Snake, Different Skin--Wilford Warfstache x Reader x Darkiplier

Summary: To many, a broken mirror is an ill omen. It supposedly symbolizes bad luck. Seven years of torment, or so they say. Little do they know, that a broken mirror could also be someone's saving grace. Those broken shards of glass could be the only thing keeping a soul from eternal damnation.

Warnings; language, death, the usual stuff we see in Markiplier videos

Word Count; 5.4k (yep, it’s a doozie)

Notes; PLEASE READ! Ok, so, I mentioned the other day that I was gonna post a WKM/AHWM series on AO3, and I am. This post includes the first 3 chapters. Click here to read it on AO3 (link will also be at the bottom)

"Will, please try to enjoy yourself tonight." You glanced at your husband from the corner of your eye. He stood by your side, posture perfect as always, nearly expressionless. As if he felt your gaze, he placed a hand on the small of your back.

"Ah, that's something I'll only be able to accomplish if you're around, my dear." Even after several years of marriage, he could still make you go weak in the knees. The door to the mansion finally opened. The man, whom you assumed was the butler, greeted you both warmly and motioned you both inside. "After you." The three of you stepped into the foyer.

"Welcome to Markiplier Manor." You felt William stiffen. In an attempt to comfort him, you wrapped an arm around his waist. He melted into your touch, pulling you closer. "Your invitations, please." William pulled two envelopes out of his coat pocket. One was addressed to you; (Y/F/N), the district attorney. The other was addressed to Colonel William Barnum. The butler smiled brightly as he took the invitations. He wished you luck at the poker table. "The other guests are right this way. I will bring your drinks forthwith," he said with a wink.

"I'm going to have a look around. I can see Damien through there. Go have fun," William murmured in your ear. You knew how much it hurt him to be in this place, after all this time, but you also knew how much more it hurt his heart to have not seen his friends in years. You grabbed his hand and gave it a quick squeeze before flashing him a sad smile.

"Alright, but don't get in too much trouble without me." William chuckled.

"Wouldn't dream of it, my dear."

You were thrilled to have another poker night. It was a common occurrence when you were all in college, but they sort of fizzled out once you got into your adult lives. Damien smiled and waved you over when you caught his eye. He wrapped you in an embrace, squeezing a laugh out of you. "Well, long time no see, old friend! How's the new office?" You shrugged.

"It'll take some getting used to, but I'm looking forward to the start of a new chapter in my life." You glanced around. "Where's Celine?" You had been friends with the mayor and his sister for as long as you could remember. The three of you practically grew up together. Everyone always joked that you were their long lost sibling. Damien was even the one who introduced you to William, and Celine was your maid of honor when you got married. She returned the favor when she got married to Mark. However, it wasn't long after their wedding that she cut contact with you. You were hurt, to say the least, but you still cared for her and wished her well.

Damien sucked in a breath. He rubbed the back of his neck. "She's, uh, not coming tonight." Your brows knitted together, but Damien spoke again before you could voice your confusion. "Mark and Celine got divorced about a year and a half ago," he said quietly. You were taken aback. They seemed like such a cute couple. Damien glanced over your shoulder for a second. He smiled when his gaze returned to you. "We'll have plenty of time to catch up when I see you at the table-- as long as you don't rob me blind again." He clapped your shoulder and disappeared down a hall.

Being left to your own devices, you aimlessly wandered through the manor. It had been ages since you were last here, but not much had changed. You were brought back to your senses when Mark gave his grand entrance and champagne flutes were passed around. Taking a sip of the bubbly drink, you knew this would be a very interesting night.

It was a well-known fact that you weren't the best at holding your alcohol. Two or three drinks were enough to take you out, but you were having so much fun that it was nearly impossible to stop yourself from having more. It didn't help that the butler kept refilling your glass every time you turned around. You woke the next morning with your head throbbing, and you desperately wanted to throw the alarm clock out of the window. A sudden moment of panic settled in. A vague memory of William trying to fight someone resurfaced. Glancing around, there was no evidence of his presence ever being in your room. You got ready as quickly as your energy-drained body allowed. Damien turned away from his spot near the banister when he heard your door open. "Have you seen William this morning?"

"I figured you would be worried. He's downstairs, passed out on the couch last night." You nodded, shoulders relaxing. A teasing smile flashed across Damien's face as he nudged you with his elbow. "How is our little monster this morning? Haven't seen you go that wild since our days in university." You pinched the bridge of your nose. It was too early in the morning for this.

"Well, I'm glad somebody remembers." Damien's laugh filled the air. You narrowed your eyes at him for a moment. "Did you do a keg stand last night?" His face reddened, and he stumbled over his words. It was your turn to laugh. "Look at you, Mr. Mayor! After I find William, I expect a full list of all the embarrassing things you did last night." Damien snorted, shaking his head.

"Yes, I suppose we'll have to catch you up. I'll see you at breakfast."

The search for your husband began. You went down the grand staircase and followed various corridors. The mental map you had of the place had grown fuzzy, and you couldn't quite remember what part of the manor you were in. You stumbled into the lounge with a huff. This was nowhere near where you needed to be. You walked around the couch and froze. Mark was laying on the ground. His eyes were open, and his skin was a sickly hue. You couldn't bring yourself to believe the obvious. "Mark?" Your voice was hardly above a whisper. You knelt beside him, grabbing his wrist. No pulse. Mark was dead. As if on cue, lightning struck. A man you had just met the night before-- Abe, the detective-- waltzed into the room, exclaiming about the odd weather. He stopped in his tracks at the sight before him.

"My God, there's been a murder!" Lightning struck once more. Soon after, the butler and chef filed in. Both men shouted about the crime scene. Powerful lightning stuck when the word 'murder' was uttered, causing you to flinch every time. Abe's focus zeroed in on you. The detective grabbed you by the collar, yanking you to your feet. "What the hell happened here?" he snarled. You opened and closed your mouth. Words couldn't be found to explain the situation. Your mind was still wrapping around the fact that your friend was laying on the floor dead. "In case you haven't been paying attention, there's been a bit of a killing, and you're my prime suspect. So, you better get to explaining the what, when, where, and why you happen to be here, upon this man's death!"

"I don't know what happened! I just found him like this." Your voice cracked, and you felt the familiar sting of tears filling your eyes. Abe narrowed his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak again, but the butler interrupted. He brought up the fact that the body was ice cold. Mark had been long gone by the time any of you had stumbled upon his body. The detective grumbled under his breath before finally releasing you.

"Alright, you're off the hook... for now." Abe suggested that the two of you should team up, working together to solve the murder. You reluctantly agreed. Two minds were better than one, and you wanted to get to the bottom of this. You helped Abe string caution tape around the area, making a point to avoid looking at the body. You then sat on the couch and held your head in your hands. You regretted ever begging William to leave home and have a weekend out. Your head snapped up at the sound of someone approaching. Damien looked around the small group gathered in the lounge, confusion etched into his features. The butler hesitantly explained what had occurred.

"A murder? Who?" Everyone held their breath for a moment, avoiding the mayor's gaze. He looked over at you and realized how disheveled you were. "Who is it, (Y/N)?" All eyes were on you, now. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, not wanting to give in to the gravity of the situation.

"Damien, it's..." you sighed, finally looking him in the eye, "it's Mark." He took a step back, shocked by your answer.

"Mark... killed? Who would do such a thing?"

"That's what me and my partner are trying to figure out." Abe motioned between you and himself. He glanced between everyone in the room. "I believe the killer is right here, amongst us... in this very house. For now, we're all stuck here. While me and my partner investigate, the rest of you need to return to your rooms, hunker down, and pray to God you're not next to be murdered." Lightning flashed outside the windows. Everyone in the room slowly dispersed. Before Damien left, you grabbed his wrist.

"Check on William for me." The mayor patted your hand but couldn't bring himself to look you in the eye.

"Yes, there are... important matters I need to discuss with the Colonel."

~*~*~

You were crouched beside the detective, intently listening as he explained how the body temperature gives an estimated time of death. Abe came to the conclusion that Mark was killed around 1:30 in the morning. You tried to focus as he went into further detail about taking the temperature of a corpse and how it's best to do it rectally, but the muffled shouts coming from a nearby room held your attention. "Why don't I go poke around, look for some clues?" The detective seemed a little surprised at your suggestion. He quickly regained his composure.

"Oh, yeah, good idea, partner. You go see if you can find more about the narrative. I've got a few more tests I need to run on the body."

You crept closer to the room the voices were coming from. You were almost positive the ones inside were Damien and William. To confirm your suspicions, you cracked the door open. You could barely see Damien standing in the middle of the room.

"...I am taking his matter very seriously."

"Don't give me that horse-shit! I know you hated him, but goddamn it! He reached out to you."

"Oh, what do you want from me?"

"I want you to care!"

“Just because I'm not weeping like a child doesn't mean that I don't care." You frowned. It had been a long time since you had heard either of them this upset and angry, especially at each other.

"Come talk to me when you pull your head out of your ass." You hardly had time to pull yourself out of your thoughts when Damien came barreling out of the room. He stopped inches away from colliding with you. His brows knitted together.

"Damien, what hap-"

"Excuse me," he huffed. The mayor brushed past you and disappeared down the hall. Confused, you stepped into the room. William sat in an old, wicker chair towards the back of the room. His face was turned away from you, but you could see he was pinching the bridge of his nose. You made your way towards him. He sighed before raising his voice.

"Damien, I don't-- oh." His voice softened upon realizing it was only you. William looked you up and down, seeing right through the front you were holding. He immediately jumped up from his seat and wrapped you in his arms. You practically melted in his embrace. Tears started to pool in your eyes. You tried to fight them back, sniffling, but they slid down your cheeks anyways. William shifted to hold your face in his hands. He gently wiped the tears away with his thumb. You gave him a watery smile.

"Sorry for getting so emotional all of a sudden." William scoffed, pulling you back into a bear hug.

"Nonsense! There is nothing to apologize for, my dear." He was quiet for a moment. You could pretty much see the gears in his mind turning. "This has been an emotional day... for everyone." Even though he didn't explicitly say it, you knew this was his way of admitting that he was upset about Mark too. You pulled him closer, leaning your forehead against his. His mustache quirked as a smirk formed on his lips. You narrowed your eyes, wondering what mischief the man was up to now. "Do you think that 'detective' can find the killer? Honestly, if he were any more stupid, he'd have to be watered twice a week." You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled in your chest. William's face brightened at your response. "There's my favorite smile!" He peppered your face with light kisses, causing you to laugh even more.

"Alright, enough!" you exclaimed in between laughs. "To answer your question, no, I don't think he can do it on his own. That's why I'm helping him." William stepped back. Confusion etched into his features.

"You're really helping him?" He rolled his eyes when you nodded. "Come on, (Y/N)! We all know how Mark died!" When you crossed your arms, waiting for him to explain, William launched into a long and dramatic recount of how he believed Mark died. He waved his arms around and gave a probably offensive impression of Mark. William believed that he caused his own demise, drinking too much and stumbling down the staircase. "...and that's what happened. Probably, anyway. If you need to corroborate this story with anyone else, go ahead and investigate the entire house." You'd be lying if you said you weren't a little hurt. You didn't understand why he was suddenly shutting you out, just because you were working with the detective.

"Will..." He stepped back and sat in the wicker chair, turning his face away from you.

"Go on, I'll be here when you're done," he sighed. You were about to say something else, but the butler called your name from the doorway. You hesitated before following him.

The meeting with the butler was largely underwhelming, and the chef wasn't much help either. All you learned from your chat was that Mark had hired Abe to do a background check on his staff. You were making your way out of the kitchen when you spotted Damien pacing outside. Thinking back on his argument with William, you decided to check on him. The sound of the door opening caught Damien's attention. He quickly made his way over, apologizing for the argument you overheard. "I know I'm supposed to be a leader in this scenario, but I can't help but feel lost. I don't have any answers, and I... just want to be alone." You put a hand on his shoulder.

"Damien, no one is expecting you to have all the answers or be the perfect leader, especially not right now. You just lost one of your childhood friends. It's completely normal to feel lost. Don't put too much pressure on yourself. You can't help anyone if you don't take care of yourself first." A smile quirked the corners of his lips.

"Thanks, little monster. Don't know what I'd do without you." He patted your hand, and the smile was gone almost as quick as it came. "I'm going to go walk the grounds, see if I can process all of this. Send the Colonel my way next time you see him. We need to talk."

Mark was gone. No, not in a metaphorical sense where his soul had left for a better place. His body was gone. Poof. Vanished. Nowhere to be found. Yep, this day just couldn't get any worse. You were pacing through the lounge, trying to keep yourself from dissolving into hysteria. You had passed the point of 'freaking out' and didn't know whether you wanted to curl into a ball and cry for hours or launch yourself into the void. It didn't help that the detective started discussing the possibility of the corpse reanimating with the butler and chef. When an arm draped across your shoulders right as lightning flashed, you nearly screamed. "Bully! Quite a storm out there. What are you doing in here, huddled in fear?" William gave your shoulders a squeeze. A goofy smile was plastered on his face.

"We have a zombie problem!" the chef exclaimed.

"Ah, homo necrosis, the most dangerous game," William said with a dramatic flourish. He looked over at you and winked. You pursed your lips. Whenever you were upset, he always cracked jokes to try to make you smile-- even in serious situations, such as this. Needless to say, you weren't really in the mood for it. William cleared his throat at your lack of response. "Well, I'm off to the grounds to see if I can catch a whiff of the old bag of bones." He left the room, laughing at his own joke.

Abe thought it would be best if the two of you stayed close for the remainder of the investigation. After all, you never know who you can trust. The two of you discussed possible motives while picking for clues in Mark's room. The place looked as if it had been ransacked. You stepped carefully, not wanting to mess with anything that could be considered evidence. A table in the corner of the room caught your eye. There were several framed photographs scattered about. They were all pictures of the gang; you, William, Damien, Mark, and Celine. One, in particular, caught your eye. The front glass was shattered, and the picture inside was only of William. "Weird..."

"Did you find a clue?"

"I don't know. Take a look at this picture-" you were interrupted by William waltzing into the room.

"Say, detective, I need to borrow your friend here." Abe raised a brow, glancing between the two of you. Assuming it was spousal issues, he quickly assured you that he could continue the investigation on his own. "Bully! Take a walk with me." William linked his arm with yours, ushering you outside. "A breath of fresh air will do you good. You've been on edge since the body disappeared." You ran a hand through your hair.

"Yeah, it's... been a long day." William stopped walking. He watched you intently, while you glanced around the pool area.

"Is that all?" You bit your lip, not wanting to sound conspiratorial. He sat down at the water's edge, motioning for you to do the same. "You don't have to be afraid to talk to me. You know that."

"I'm just worried. What if Abe's right? What if one of us really is the murderer?" You flinched at the sudden flash of lightning. "I mean, how far into the investigation will they let us go until trying to stop us?" William took both of your hands in his. There was an intensity in his eyes you weren't sure you had ever seen before.

"At our wedding, when I vowed to never leave your side, I meant it. I will not allow any harm to come to you." You pulled one of your hands free and held out your little finger.

"Pinky promise?" William smiled, wrapping his finger around yours. He pulled your hand closer and pressed a kiss to your knuckles.

"Pinky promise." Questions about the shattered picture frame pushed their way into your mind, but you did your best to quell them. Out of all of the chaos that had occurred, you were given a moment of peace. You were sure that more dismay would soon peer over the horizon. But this was the eye of the hurricane. For now, it was all quiet, and you wanted nothing more than to enjoy this moment with your husband.

~*~*~

The manor originally belonged to the Barnum family. It was where William grew up. His parents were wealthy, providing everything their son could ever desire. There were many wild parties hosted here when you were all younger. William was proud of his heritage, but he didn't let his family define who he was. Despite the fortune of his parents, he was incredibly humble and a hard worker. That was one of the things you loved about him. However, his world shifted when his parents passed. William had just returned from deployment when the news arrived. Old scandals his parents were involved in resurfaced. Everything he thought he knew about his family was a lie. That was when Mark entered the scene. He was just starting to make a reputation for himself in the acting world and used his newfound wealth to purchase the Barnum Manor. Mark's time in the mansion inflated his ego, or so you assumed. He never let William hear the end of it. The once happy home that you all had great memories in began to feel stuffy. Something about it changed, and it made you uneasy. The heavy atmosphere that seemingly moved into the manor with Mark only amplified, and it made your time here suffocating. It was having effects on everyone.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when William suggested you further investigate the staff. He then ran off to explore the old golf course, resembling a child running to unwrap gifts on Christmas morning. A sad smile crossed your features. The manor was no longer the childhood home he remembered.

"Have you seen the Colonel?" You jumped when Damien appeared behind you. You groaned, placing a hand to your forehead.

"Damn it! He just left. Sorry, Damien, I completely forgot to tell him that you were looking for him." The mayor waved you off.

"No matter, would you accompany me? There is something I'd like to discuss with you." The two of you walked across the patio. Damien voiced his concerns about the innocence of the detective. While anything is possible, you didn't really believe he was a suspect. He shared too much personal information, and you didn't pin him to be the master manipulator type. Damien nodded, halfway agreeing. He froze for a moment. His eyes widened. "Mayhaps our counting skills aren't as good as we assumed them to be." A knot formed in the pit of your stomach.

"You think..." you trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence.

"It's possible, that in the shadows of this manor, unseen to any of us, lay hidden... a murderer." Lightning danced across the sky. Almost simultaneously, a gunshot sounded from inside. You and Damien wasted no time, running into the manor. The darkness that consumed the manor was suffocating you once more, and it had apparently infiltrated the minds of those inside. William and Abe were having a standoff. The two men had their gun sights trained on the other. Both were shouting profanities. Damien tried to diffuse the situation, but the tension only escalated.

"This psycho tried to shoot me!"

"That's a bald-faced lie!" William went on to explain that he was merely doing some target practice when the detective approached. They continued to argue, waving their guns in each other's faces.

"Please, put the guns down before somebody else gets hurt!" you tried to reason. William glanced in your direction, while Abe paid you no mind.

"No, he knew I was onto him, so he tried to wack me off before I could finger him... as the murderer!" You held your breath, unsure of what to do. They were going to rip each other's throats out if someone didn't intervene. Damien was standing beside you, too shocked to do anything. You started to step forward, but he grabbed your wrist.

"Don't, you'll get hurt," the mayor pleaded.

"What would you rather happen, Damien? They kill each other?"

"I won't be called a murderer in my own home!" William snarled at the detective. The front door swung open with enough force to startle everyone.

"Stop!" You blinked, hardly able to believe the sight. It was Celine, of all people. "What are you doing?" Abe put down his weapon. William kept a tight grip on his gun but slightly lowered his defenses.

"Celine?"

"What are you doing here?"

"Hold on, who the hell is 'Celine' and how do you know her?" Abe looked between you and William. Everyone ignored his question.

"Madam, I'm afraid you came at a very inopportune time." The butler wrung his hands, not wanting to be the one to tell her. The chef, however, had no empathy.

"Yeah, Mark's fuckin' dead!" That's when everyone jumped into the conversation. All of you blurted out that he had been murdered and his body was missing. Someone mentioned the zombie theory again, much to your dismay. The group moved to sit around the poker table, where everyone could lay out all the evidence that had been gathered so far. You tried your best to focus, but your mind was too foggy. It was hard to keep track of anything they were saying. You didn't snap out of your stupor until you realized that Celine was pointing at you.

"You've been awfully quiet through all of this..." Everyone sitting around the table jumped on the bandwagon, questioning your innocence as if you had anything to do with the murder. You were confused. She didn't seriously think you were the killer, right? William took your hand in his and glared at the others. It was almost as if he dared them to speak against you again. Celine glanced at your joined hands before closing her eyes, taking a breath. "But I know I can trust you. I sense that you have a far greater part to play in all of this. (Y/N), will you help me find an answer."

"Of course." Abe's jaw dropped.

"Are you serious? No, there's no way I'm going to let you drag my partner off to their very likely death!" he shouted, slamming his hands on the table. The butler and chef both agreed.

"Guys, it's ok. Celine's been like a sister to me for as long as I can remember. If she says it's safe, then I believe her." Celine smiled at you, and William nodded.

"They're right, you know. Celine can be trusted. There's no reason anyone should doubt her." The woman in question suggested that the group could wait outside if they were that uncomfortable. Abe reluctantly agreed. Celine stood from her seat and nodded for you to follow. The two of you were climbing the staircase when Damien approached. He kept calling out to Celine, begging her to stop. He believed she was not in the right headspace to be dealing with the occult, not that she should be dealing with it in the first place... Taking a deep breath, Celine faced her brother.

"There's more to this world than you could ever hope to imagine. I've just had my eyes opened to a small portion of it." She turned on her heel and left without saying another word. Damien's shoulders slumped. He wished you both luck before retreating back down the stairs. When you finally managed to catch up with Celine, she had already finished setting up whatever ritual she had planned. A large tapestry with odd symbols sewn into it was draped across the table. There were also candles and a crystal ball delicately placed in the center. Celine instructed you to sit in the chair across from her. She laid tarot cards in between each of the candles. Once more, your mind felt muddled. You could hardly keep your eyes open. Celine leaned forward, carefully watching your every movement. "Don't fight it. Trust the process, and find the answers." Dark spots flooded your vision, and soon everything faded to black.

You were having flashbacks, but they were... different. You knew they were your memories. You just couldn't help but feel as if you were seeing them through someone else's eyes. Then something strange occurred. You were standing near the garden, the chef and Abe by your side. Everything was hazy. You couldn't clearly see the face of the newcomer approaching. His laugh was warbled, nearly sounding inhuman. It made you feel sick. "Employers come and go! Some die, some don't." The scenery around you lurched. It felt as if you were falling through the floor. You couldn't stay here any longer. You couldn't breathe. You couldn't see. You needed to get out.

You startled in your seat, gasping for air. Celine was obviously annoyed. She leaned forward, her eyes boring holes into your head. "What happened? Why did you stop?" she yelled. You blinked up at her. You were still recovering from whatever dimension she had flung you into. "Well, did you see something or someone?"

"Shovel," you blurted. Celine raised a brow at you. You covered your face with your hands, worried that you were about to vomit. "Grumpy man. Garden." The witch scoffed.

"That doesn't answer anything! You need to go back, now!" She slammed her hands on the table, emphasizing her point. You flinched at the tone in her voice. Abe swung the door open, marching into the room with Damien.

"What the shit is this?" If she wasn't angry before, she was now. Celine yelled for them to leave. She claimed that the two of you weren't done. Damien looked down at your disoriented form. Concern flashed across his features, then his face darkened.

"Celine, I think this is quite enough. Look at (Y/N)! They can barely hold their head up!" Celine slammed her hands on the table once more, raising her voice even louder than before.

"It's enough when I say it's enough!" Damien shot Abe a look. The detective nodded and helped you to your feet. He walked you into the hall, asking you a million questions. You shook your head. The last thing you wanted to do was relive that hellhole. Abe sighed, pulling a small notebook and a pen out of his jacket pocket. You quickly scribbled a drawing of what you saw-- a man with a shovel. The detective furrowed his brows. He called in the chef and butler, quizzing them on what it could possibly mean. You leaned against the wall and listened to their conversation. You were still determined on helping the investigation, and your vertigo was beginning to fade.

Damien and Celine rejoined the group as Abe and the chef began arguing about whether or not George the groundskeeper could be a suspect. Damien had enough and finally snapped. "This is getting us nowhere. The two of you just go outside, and talk to this George, and be done with it!" Abe spluttered for a moment.

"Hold on a second, you're not coming with us?" The mayor twisted his cane in his hands, a nervous habit of his. He glanced between you and his sister.

"I need to stay here to help Celine and (Y/N), whom, may I point out, is clearly in no condition to be going on a manhunt." Celine whirled on her brother, quickly reprimanding him. She claimed that she did need anyone's help and especially not his. Damien's jaw dropped, and he looked to you. You pushed away from your spot on the wall and squared your shoulders.

"Damien, I appreciate your concern. I really do... but I'm an adult. I know my capabilities, and I'm going to help finish this investigation." Damien's jaw slackened. You could tell that he was hurt. He threw his hands in the air.

"Our friend is dead!" Everyone cast their eyes downward. A heavy silence hung in the air. Damien sighed. "I'm sorry. I just... need answers to all of this. I already lost one friend today." His voice was low, almost on the verge of falling apart. "I don't want to lose another."

"Fine, but I have to stay here," Celine conceded. Damien turned his attention to you. The pain in his eyes made you want to stay, but you couldn't.

"I'm sorry. I have to help them." He nodded, slowly turning away from you. He and Celine walked down the hall, back into the small room. Your heart ached, but you knew this was what needed to be done. Abe snapped you out of your daze, saying it was time to go. Before leaving the manor, you turned to the butler. "Have you seen William?" He gave you a reassuring smile.

"He appeared tired and went back to your room. If you'd like, I could let him know you inquired." You nodded, and the butler disappeared around the corner.

~*~*~*~*~

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batarella · 4 years

Text

The Bullet: A Sequel to The Commander - Part 7 *FINALE* (Jason Todd x Reader)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH THIS FUCKING FINALE I SWEAR. HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY BECAUSE THIS IS THE MOST ACTION PACKED FINALE I’VE EVER WRITTEN.

WORDS: 14349 WARNINGS: FIREARMS, VIOLENCE, DEATH

MASTERLIST

THE BULLET MASTERLIST

-----

Strapped onto the wheel chair like a rabid circus freak, Y/N knew exactly where she was headed. She just didn’t know what for.

With her neck being held back she could only look at the bulbs of white fluorescent light that continually passed by her and couldn’t do so much as look at the ground. Plenty of guards were around her as well. She didn’t bother struggling, nor did she speak. But there were even more armed guards lining up, going to wherever she was going as well. All the way up to a white room.

A mission. Her first mission with the squad. Just delightful.

“Deadshot?” the guard near the door asked. When the ones carrying her wheelchair gave him her files, she was let in.

She was the last one to arrive. Because everyone had their eyes on her the moment she graced them with her presence.

The first one that caught Y/N’s eye was, of course, Amanda Waller. With the room littered with her goons and guards, the woman stood at the very front, against a blank wall with her hands behind her back and her eyebrow quirked up right at Y/N. Y/N squinted her eyes back at her, some sort of a decline to her superiority, and Waller looked amused.

Then when the guards parted to make way for her, she was brought to the very center of the room, where there were five rather familiar faces giggling and snarling at the newest member of the squad. The one at the center, Rick Flag, ordered his men to place Y/N on the leftmost side.

Those faces, the ones she’s seen more often than she wished she had. Some already knew her. Some hated her. And some simply didn’t care.

Harley Quinn. Of course, out of everyone else in the room, was the only one bubbling with laughter and other nonsense spurting out of her mouth. She was waving her legs around the wheelchair like a little girl would on a swing. And she was staring at her, laughing. “WE GOT A NEW GIRL ON THE SQUAD!!!” she bellowed out. “WHAT?! DEADSHOT’S NEICE. THAT’S NEPOTISM RIGHT THERE.” Y/N ignored her.

The one beside her was someone she didn’t know personally, someone she’s never even met. They said this guy came from Australia and robbed almost every bank there was. Captain Boomerang. He, too, was strapped to a chair, though he wasn’t as loud as Harley. Y/N saw him eye her head to toe while he bit his lip, and she shot Boomerang a knife-like scowl before his eyes got too comfortable.

The next one. Killer Frost. A beautiful woman with ice-white skin and the hair of an arctic fox. She didn’t give Y/N so much as a glance. Most probably because they had her stored in a coffin-like chamber with only a glass window where her head could be seen. On the inside, she could see the glass covered in frost, and the chamber looked cold to touch. She was calm, reserved. And looked on at Waller’s direction.

The creature beside Frost was the one she really wouldn’t want to mess with the most. The largest in the room, with blue skin and a body ten times the mass of any human being possibly could be. He had the head of a shark, eyes red like her optics. He even had a fin sticking out his back. and he was muzzled and strapped standing upright with five more guards around him. Y/N could hear him growl, wordless, and when she caught his eye, he snarled at her.

Finally, El Diablo. The quietest out of the bunch. His wheelchair looked just like hers, except his hands were completely covered by iron cylinders, probably filled with ice cold water. The man was covered in tattoos, and he didn’t have a shirt on. His face looked like a skull’s, which made the way he looked at everyone else look more menacing than his supposed behaved demeanor.

These were the dangerous people she’s stuck with, most probably for the rest of her life if all else fails and she’ll never be able to get out. The people that Floyd had worked with. And they were a few of the most maniacal villains there were in the whole country. She wished she could tell herself she didn’t belong. But she actually did. In fact, she had no business going about pretending to be better than all these people. When it came to how much blood they’ve shed, she probably wasn’t too far off from Harley. Maybe even more.

Y/N was right where she truly belonged. Today, she is welcomed as the newest member of the Suicide Squad.

Waller stepped out to the front. “Y/N, your team. Let’s cut to the chase. We don’t have much time. Bring out the files.”

These files were then projected onto a holographic screen against the wall behind Waller. It was a photo of Scarecrow.

“Some of you probably have heard. Just yesterday, Dr. Jonathan Crane released his new toxin in the National Bank of Gotham.”

The screen started to show footage of what went on in the Bank.

“Our first mistake was thinking Scarecrow had launched the same kind of toxin as the last time, but as the surviving victims were brought out to the stations, they continued to showed the side effects of the toxin, including mania, hallucinations, homicidal tendencies, unnatural human strength, and even cannibalism. Even after being held for observations for more than twenty-four hours, they, unfortunately, could not be brought back.

“Which means that Crane had finally developed a fear toxin that causes permanent effects to anyone who does so much as inhale the gas…”

She heard guards shuffle and hold their guns tighter.

“I have a question!” Harley screamed, holding her hand up despite it being strapped to the chair.

“Flag. Muffle her.”

“Muffle me!? What do you-MMMMM!”

“As I was saying. The victims were forced to be euthanized when none of the doctors could bring them back. One hundred-twenty people died in the incident and the whole country is in a state of panic.”

“MMM MMM MMM?!” Harley asked.

“Yes. The whole country. Months ago, Dr. Crane had blackmailed the crime syndicate Carmine Falcone, who he instructed to forge buy outs of several other Gotham businessmen, stole almost all their money before hiring a certain hitman-“ she stared at Y/N. “-To assassinate them all one by one before his shortcomings are detected. That placed Falcone’s total net worth to be almost two hundred billion dollars. Or so we thought.

“After Falcone’s death, Crane had already taken all the money for himself and had used to build what might be the end to all of mankind. A new Cloudburst weapon. This time large enough to engulf the whole country in his new toxin, as well as a brand-new militia army of hundreds of men guarding his device. Mankind as we know it will be haunted with his obsession with fear and we will all be nothing but goddamn zombies.”

“MMMM!” Harley thrashed about in her chair, then she spat out her gag. “Yuck! That was disgusting! I was about to say that gag had a bug and it crawled down to my throat but it actually wasn’t that bad!”

“Harley!” Rick Flag screamed. Harley pouted and stuck out her tongue.

“And what is it you want us to do, Waller?” Boomerang asked with his heavy accent. “You want us to go there and possibly inhale this bloody toxin!?”

The screen turned to a helicopter’s sight. “Last night, we managed to tracked down a dome-shaped building in the deserted areas outside New Jersey with more than five hundred men guarding it inside and out. It is suspected that the weapon might be hidden somewhere in its center. Your job is to go there, eliminate Dr. Crane and his army, and destroy that weapon with whatever means necessary.

“And as for your concern, our teams have developed a mask for you all to wear. It has the filter to go against the toxin. We found it on one of the Arkham Knight Militia’s men and developed our own.”

Oh. Shit. That. She totally forgot. Man, how time flies.

“Let’s not waste anymore time. Flag. Take them to the airport and give them their gear.”

“Weeeeee!” Harley squealed as they started wheeling her out of the room.

Y/N had no idea where to start, if she even had a place to start.

Everything Waller mentioned, it could all be traced back to her. In so many ways. And she knew it. Everyone in the room probably knew it. It was only fair that she be involved in trying to correct it at all. She had no business complaining or thinking she should be somewhere else. This was Waller’s way, hell, this was the whole goddamn world’s way of handing to her what she truly deserved. And she was so tired of constantly being the cause of hurt and pain. So many mistakes, costing her everything she’s ever known to love. She really, truly belonged here. More than Harley. More than Killer Frost. More than anyone else in the squad.

Because without her even knowing, she’d been involved in this mess before any of Scarecrow’s plans were even thought of. With the militia, the Cloudburst, Falcone’s assassinations. In so many ways, none of this would have happened if not for her.

But did she even have the time to blame herself? When it would barely do her any good?

As Y/N was taken to the plane, beside the other members of the squad, she focused on the buzzing and Boomerang’s rants and Harley’s cackles. She even caught the eye of King Shark and didn’t budge.

Because of course, in a way, she was to blame. She knew Crane had something planned when he almost had her killed that one, terrible night trying to lessen the odds of her ruining his plan once more. And another one of her stupid mistakes was to completely forget about it.

They arrived a few hours later. On the military base somewhere in the interstate, even more soldiers and guards waited for them in the barren grounds surrounded by their tents.

She was the farthest behind, the last one to be wheeled out of the plane. When Rick Flag met them at the center where suitcases and crates were being brought out. He waited until most of the squad members had settled.

“Everyone. Stand your ground. Unlock them and give them their gear. If you idiots do so much as look at me differently, I will detonate the bombs.”

“We know the drill, mate,” Boomerang spat at him.

“I know. I was talking to the new girl.”

Y/N’s wheelchair stopped. Then, they were all released from their straps, from their chairs. Harley hopped up and stretched out her arms, then took out her clothes from the crates and her enormous hammer. Boomerang fixed his coat, then he had a single boomerang from his case. He threw it in the air, and a few seconds later, it came flying back.

Killer Frost, with the air suddenly becoming a little chillier when the chamber opened, walked out and grabbed her icy-blue suit. She didn’t have any more weapons. El Diablo was slow to move, but when the chains were unlocked, he got a single hoodie jacket and hid himself from everyone else.

King Shark, on the other hand, put up most of a fight. Terrified soldiers had their shields up when they released him from his confines and he roared directly at Flag’s face. Flag didn’t budge.

Y/N stood up from her chair, stretched her neck, then cracked her knuckles.

As an entire arsenal of guns was brought to her, she stared vacantly at her red and gray suit and the white mask at the bottom of the crate.

That wasn’t her. It didn’t call out to her anymore the way it did just a few days ago. It was a layer of skin laid over her flesh that wasn’t hers at all. She wasn’t Deadshot anymore.

She can't wear this suit.

Y/N eyed another crate nearby. It must have belonged to the other gunmen in their army.

She can make something out of these.

Nobody batted an eye when she started scavenging for parts.

Black body armor, covering her chest, shoulders, and knees. Dark pants covered in straps and holsters on her hips and thighs. Boots that went up to her knees, covered with the pads. And underneath the armor was a dark blue body suit, making her look completely different from her uncle’s red one. Her wrist gun, spray painted blue. And lastly, a black hood with a mask that covered her nose and mouth.

Around her neck was a small silver chain with the diamond ring through its loop. Y/N longingly stared into its crystal, looking back at everything Jason had promised her. How she believed them even when they weren’t so possible. How much she missed him.

She stuffed it under her suit and placed the hood over her head.

Already, she’d shed off that foreign skin. This was her. This was Y/N.

When everyone was ready, Flag came up to the crowd.

“No longer Deadshot, are you?”

“No,” she said.

“Then what do we call you?”

She simpered.

“The Bullet.”

-----

This had to be all theatrics. Not to mention completely unnecessary. Jason got off his motorcycle and parked it right outside the gate.

Somehow, they kept it. Even the fence. And it still had ‘Wayne Manor’ on its wrought iron bars even when the field behind it had been completely emptied out. The ruins and everything left behind after the manor exploded had been cleared out and demolished. Still, they chose not to do anything with the land, even when millionaires fought over it and maybe a few intruders with metal detectors breaking in to look for the Batcave.

Dick told him to meet him and the rest of the family there. He had no idea where, but when he stepped into the gate, Dick was there leaning against the vine-covered fence behind it. Jason wasn’t so sure how to greet him. the last time they saw each other, they were at each other’s throats. Literally. Now at their mercy, he wasn’t so sure what was the quickest way to let his pride down without looking too much of a desperate asshole.

“Uhm. Hi,” Dick said.

“Hey.”

They stared at the grass.

“Are Babs and Tim coming?”

“Yeah. They just got out of their honeymoon.”

“Oh yeah. Congratulations to them.”

“You can tell Tim when we get to them.”

Of course. Tim. The replacement. He can totally congratulate him on his wedding without it sounding too awkward.

“We talk here?”

Dick wrinkled his forehead and laughed. “You thought we were gonna plan this whole thing out on an empty field?”

“This place sure looks like one.”

He threw his head back. “Come on. Follow me.”

Hands in his pockets, he trailed behind Dick. All the way over to the center of the field where there wasn’t so much as a porta potty for them to go into.

Then Dick pulled out his watch, which wasn’t a watch at all, and started to press onto its buttons.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jason sighed when the ground underneath them suddenly started to rumble.

“What? You thought the cave went out with the explosion, too? Bruce wouldn’t let it go to waste.”

Then the grass, which turned out to be fake, had split into a large, rectangular shaped ramp that slowly descended down onto the undergrounds for them to walk onto. When it stopped, Jason pressed on his nose. “I can't believe I didn’t know about this.”

“Come on.”

They started walking down. “Barbara’s the one in charge. She practically runs the place.”

“I can see that.”

When they reached below ground, the Batcave was exactly as they had left it. The last time he was here, he was with Y/N, the Commander. And although they’d changed its entryway, the Batmobile and the Batwing were still there, the computers were still up and running. How massive it was and how bats were still up on the rocky ceiling looking down on them with their beady little eyes. Jason and Dick walked down the driveway and he let his hand run onto the batmobile’s surface.

Barbara and Tim were at the computers. They turned to the two and the way they looked at Jason wasn’t something he particularly liked being stared at.

“Hey, Babs.”

Barbara was the first to smile at him. “Hi, Jason.”

Then when he looked at Tim, who didn’t share the same smile, he stopped himself from scratching an itch on his head.

“Hi… Tim…”

“Jason…” he coughed.

“Congratulations, by the way.”

“Thank you,” Babs said, then she reached out to Jason’s hand. He took it, for a while, then he pulled away.

“Sorry to hear about her,” Tim said.

“I know. But if you help me… and I thank you for helping me now… we can break her out.”

“Did you come up with a plan?” Dick asked him. Jason, arms crossed, turned over to the computer. Barbara had already gone ahead with looking up Scarecrow.

“If the squad is being sent out to deal with Crane, they might be going after that new weapon of his. We can go after them there and get her out before anyone sees.”

He stared at his hands. “I was hoping Babs could come up with some sort of devise that can disable the bomb in her neck.”

“Dick already told me. Don’t worry. I came up with something this morning.”

The three men followed behind her as she wheeled over to the table next to the keyboards.

“This,” she held out a device shaped like a thick pen. “If you can get her to settle down, you stick this thing to the back of her neck and it will send shocks right up to the nanite bomb. It should give it the voltage it needs to be disabled. It’s going to hurt. But it can save her.”

She was an angel. A literal angel. Just the thought of it gave him that little flutter of hope he definitely needed.

“Babs, I don’t know how to thank you…”

“Don’t worry about it. We’re here to help you.”

Two years ago, he had this woman kidnapped and sent to Crane, gave her the death scare of a lifetime and almost had Tim killed when Scarecrow had him captured.

It was too much. How none of their faces looked the least bit bothered. Dick held the pen and took off the needle cap, flinching, then he gave it to Jason.

Jason looked down on it, clearing his throat.

“I’m sorry…”

Dick, with his arms crossed, Tim leaning against the table, and Babs looking down at her hands, they all didn’t have much to say.

“I’m sorry for everything I did to you. All of you.”

“Jason…” Dick rubbed the back of his neck. “We used to be brothers-“

“No, I… I couldn’t. When this is over, I’ll be out of your way. And I owe you. All of you… But I shouldn’t stay…”

“You can. And you will. No matter how much you push yourself away… We’re here for you…”

Tim never looked up. But Jason knew, that if he were in his place right now, he’d be all over him with the ‘I told you so’s’ and the snide remarks. But the younger man was silent, didn’t even look at him the wrong way.

And that’s when he really felt like shit.

“We’re happy you came to us for help,” Babs said.

Jason hadn’t figured this part out when he reached for their help, but he knew something like this was about to happen. It was the entire reason why he didn’t want to. Because somehow, when it did, these guys won't hate him anymore, and he’ll end up hating himself instead.

Dick placed his hand on his shoulder. For a moment. Then when Jason’s body tensed, Dick pulled away.

“Now,” Babs went over to the computer. “Time to hack into the government.”

-----

The helicopter landed some distance away from the dome. The Bullet still had no idea why it was shaped that way. Just that it was new and humungous and completely littered with army men guarding every inch of it.

She, Harley, Boomerang, Killer Frost, King Shark, and El Diablo stepped out at the front lines, with Rick Flag right behind them, followed by their own army of men, though a number considerably less than what they were going up against. They had to be smart with this and break in.

They went into the forest, out on the fields. The dome was in a level ground lower than the lands around it, shaped in a circle, much like it was on a pit that was about two or three stories below ground. They crouched down on the bushes when they started reaching the edges of the pit and Flag looked out on his scopes.

“They’ve completely covered the perimeter.”

“Do we just attack?”

Flag put down his binoculars. “We are. To keep them distracted. When everyone’s backs are turned you six go in there and finish the job.”

“You say it like it’s so fucking easy,” Boomerang snarled. King Shark gritted his sharp teeth and growled staring at the armed men around the building.

A hand grenade. Right at one of the trees. It got their attention enough, especially when Flag started firing at the guards stationed just outside the entrance. Crowds of Scarecrow’s men, armed to the teeth, ran the outside grounds to go after Flag’s men. They drifted down the pit, outstretched their legs, and handled them at close range, while some stayed at the trees firing from afar.

The Squad, on the other hand, were all the way over to the other side. Almost all of them had ran off, except for two who stayed behind guarding the backside.

“Bullet,” Frost placed her frosted hand on her shoulder. It made her shiver. “You're up.”

The Bullet took out her sniper and shot down those two men almost at the same time. Then they slid down the side, King Shark rolling down with his immense weight. When another of Scarecrow’s men ran out the door, a boomerang landed on his head.

The door was locked. “I’ll take care of it,” Frost said. Boomerang scoffed, “Fucking metas.”

Holding out her hands, fumes of ice shot out from Frost’s palms and froze down the locks. King Shark kicked the iced hinges down, then the door fell to the ground.

“That was easy!” Harley skipped inside with her mallet over her shoulders. Diablo was still silent, still with his hands in his pockets.

“Don’t jinx it, Harls.”

It looked more like a warehouse by the entryway. And there was absolutely nothing inside save for a few cylinders and water tanks and a whole lot of pipes being guarded.

“We should probably sneak inside.”

“Sneak!?” Harley snorted at the Bullet. “Honey, we don’t do that here.”

King Shark growled at her, then he walked straight up to the center of the room.

“Intruder! Open fire!” the soldiers screamed.

“What is that thing!?”

“Just shoot!”

King Shark walked slowly towards those men, and the bullets just bounced off his incredibly thick skin. He held out his hand, stopped the bullets from reaching his face. Then when the soldiers had backed too much away and reached the wall, Shark grabbed them by the face and actually hurled them all the way across the room.

“Time to play!!!” Harley screamed, then she held out her mallet and started swinging it over at the guards.

Killer Frost had the ground frozen over, slipping the guards off balance, then shards of ice rose up from the ground to impale them. Boomerang had a more melee approach but had his trusty weapon to go around when he needed it.

The Bullet. The new, almighty Bullet. She pulled up her hood and mask and took out her AK.

She fired at the dozens of men going after her. Jumping on top of the cylinders, standing on the highest ground, she shot down anyone who came remotely close to her and had their bodies on the floor before they could even touch her feet. Over and over, she changed the magazines, took out more ammo. She let the gun take charge of her hands and head. A lot of the were swarming her, from different directions. Eventually too many of the soldiers were surrounding the pile of crates she stood on and the others started climbing up.

She couldn’t escape. Even if she were able to take them all down.

Until a raging fire shot out like a car-sized flame thrower and took out the guards that were climbing up. The water tank didn’t seem to have been damaged, but the men on it were burnt like a crisp, and they all started to run away. “Jump!” Diablo screamed.

She did, and she landed on the fire as well. She rolled on the floor to put it out before it got to her skin and Diablo helped her up. “Thank you.”

“Just go.”

She nodded, then with her pistol and wrist gun, went on to keep firing. Frost had a wall of the men being stuck to the block of ice, some completely frozen inside it, then King Shark let out an animalistic shriek before he punched the glass, destroying it into shards and impaling everyone inside.

Harley, on the other hand, just went on spinning around with her mallet, screaming, manically laughing. The bitch was insane.

“A little help here!” Boomerang called out. He was being held back by two men while another was punching at his chest. The Bullet pointed her wrist gun and fired at his attacker.

Even more men were coming. From the doors to the inside.

“We have to keep moving!” The Bullet cried out to them. To the door where the reinforcements kept coming from, she kept firing as she backed away. The whole squad moved, onwards towards the door. Then when they’d all reached it, Frost froze over the door with more than five layers of ice.

There were sounds of bashing and hitting against the icy door, but it should be enough to hold them back. Before them was a long, seemingly endless hallway. It should probably be leading them to the inside of the dome, where the weapon is.

“Ahhh. The Suicide Squad…”

“WOAH WOAH WOAH where the hell is that comin’ from!?” Harley screamed.

The intercoms. Scarecrow was watching them. The Bullet put on her optics, now shining blue light, and looked around.

A camera. Right at the corner. She shot it with her wrist gun.

“And you have the Commander with you.”

“FUCKING SHUT UP!” The Bullet shot another camera hidden away.

“The Commander, huh,” Killer Frost looking at her head to toe. “You work with him before?”

“Shut up.”

“OH MY MOLLY,” Harley placed her hands on her mouth. “YOU'RE the Commander of the freakin’ Arkham Knight!! I remember you!”

“We should go-“

“I have so many questions. Huge fan. HUGE fan. Ya know she’s drove the first Cloudburst?”

Boomerang crossed his arms. “And they sent her to help us? The fuckin’ nerve of this scumbag coming up here actin’ all hero.”

“You watch your mouth, kangaroo.”

Diablo snorted and chuckled. Boomerang held out his weapon. “You want a piece of this?”

“A kid’s toy?”

“Don’t you fuckin-“

King Shark roared at the two with his mouth wide open for a good ten seconds and deafened their ears. The Bullet wiped his spit off her face and scoffed.

Frost led the way, all the way down its halls. When they reached a large gate, she froze it over once more and Shark beat it down with his fists and his foot.

They didn’t know they’d reach the center of the large dome. They thought they had more rooms to cover.

With the building so big, they thought it would have taken so much more time to reach the core.

But already, they were met with a cylindrical glass tank that was almost as thick as an entire building in itself, and it lit up the room in a menacing red light, all around. It was swirling, even boiling inside. And it shot all the way up to the roof, three stories high.

It was the fucking toxin.

The squad backed away.

Dozens of men surrounded them, all around the dimly lit room. And it was larger than any of them could have expected. It was circular, and there was only a suspended walkway that went all around the sides. There was a runway to the center, where there were controls. A man stood by them. A man with a rag on his head.

All of them with their hands up.

Scarecrow’s voice was on the intercom, and it echoed all throughout the dome loud enough to rattle their eardrums.

“I assume this wasn’t what you’d expected?”

No. Not even a little. This wasn’t what they expected at all.

They didn’t expect to already reach the weapon.

Or rather. Stand on top of the weapon.

The weapon wasn’t a ray gun or a tank or even a satellite. It wasn’t something so small that it would have been easily taken down by a tank or even King Shark’s fist. Even when it was to engulf the whole of America in its toxin.

No. it was none of that.

The Bullet trailed her eyes down the numerous pipes going up and around the walls, through the floor and over to the room where they just came from, where even more of the toxin was stored in tanks and the pipes that went around it.

The Cloudburst wasn’t inside the dome.

The Cloudburst was the dome.

-----

It didn’t take too much time. It wasn’t the first time Barbara had to hack into the American Government. In fact, it was the easier to hack into than some people’s private accounts.

She went into Amanda Waller’s files.

“Here. Finally.”

Dick, Jason, and Tim stood behind her.

“It looks like they’ve already sent out the squad. Just a few hours ago.”

“Who are in the squad?”

The files on Task Force X. Babs took out the profiles on all their subjects.

Harley’s picture was first to come up. Her blonde hair and vicious eyes staring at the screen. “Harley Quinn, of course. We got Louise Lincoln, also known as Killer Frost.”

The boys watched on.

“El Diablo. Captain Boomerang. King Shark. Rick Flag’s being sent out there as well.”

Then she stopped scrolling when Y/N’s picture and profile came up.

Jason’s heart broke. It did every time he does so much as look at a photo of her. And with that one, a mug shot, the mug shot that was going around every news station in town, the brokenness in her face, the darkness in what used to be the brightness in her eyes, how much rage she had for everything around the world, he hitched his breath.

‘Y/FN Y/LN

Age: 23

Alias: The Bullet’

He smiled at her new name. A sad smile. The most painful kind.

He missed her so much.

Setting his head to the side so they couldn’t see the tear that had seeped out, Jason swallowed and shut his eyes.

“Jason…”

“I’m alright. Can you find out where they were headed?”

Babs smiled at him, then went back to her keyboard.

Zooming in on the helicopter footage on the dome, she traced its coordinates.

“Is that-“

“Scarecrow’s base? Most probably.”

“Jesus,” Jason sighed. “I used to work with that guy.”

“This is the weapon, alright. The sensors are through the roof. We should be heading out there.”

“Do we have a plan?”

“Not exactly. We’ll know when we get there,” Dick said.

“We have to hurry. Who knows when that mad man actually detonates his bomb?”

“How? It’s two hours away.”

“Man,” Dick pat his back. “You really have to get used to working with us now that we’ve got Bruce’s old toys.”

Of course.

What else could he have possibly thought? Get there on his bike?

The Batwing was staring right at their faces, almost taunting them with its silent growl. Dick, Tim, and Jason walked up to it side by side.

“You think he’ll be happy with that?” Jason said.

“Not at all. He even threatens to kill us if we get anywhere near the wheel-“

“Which is why I’m here to drive, Master Dick.”

No.

It couldn’t be.

The sweet old butler, came up from behind the computers where there must have been a room for him to stay in, he held out a tray of four glasses of water for them to take. Setting it down on the table, he gave Jason the sincerest smile.

“I’ve missed you, dear boy.”

“Alfred.”

He wanted desperately to go up to him, give him the biggest bear hug until his bones crack, but Alfred held his hand up to him and just handed him his water.

“It’s better if we skip the ol’ reunion. We catch up after we’ve saved your girl.”

Everything was here. Everyone was here.

Clearly, it wasn’t the time to get emotional. And goddamn, he wasn’t the one to get emotional.

And all the more did they look like a family when the three boys suited up. Dick with his black and blue Nightwing suit and domino mask, Tim with his bo staff and red and yellow suit and cape. And Jason, with his hooded jacket and red visor.

Facing each other in a circle, Nightwing, Robin, and Red Hood took in how they were all now in one team, possibly for the rest of their career. No longer will they fight. No longer will they run.

Oracle smiled at the three. “You all look great together when you're not at each other’s throats.”

“You sure you won't let me drive, Alfred?” Robin said to the butler.

“I had specific instructions from Master Bruce that if you were to inherit the cave, no one was to drive the Batwing but me. You have until I die, Master Dick.”

“Awe. Even in his death, Bruce still doesn’t trust us.”

Laughing as they went in, Alfred had the Batwing soaring into the sky. Silently.

They were going to save her. Them. His family. The one he’d left. The one he thought he hated. The one he almost got killed.

He couldn’t possibly have done anything to deserve this.

With his visor up, he went up to Dick.

“Dick…” he choked.

His older brother turned to him, smiling. He knew what Jason was thinking.

And he didn’t let him speak to make things unnecessarily dramatic. He knew he had his brother back. Dick pulled him into a hug. A sweet, sincere hug that tore out every part of him that wasn’t already consumed by that string of humanity he once had left inside him.

“Thank you,” Jason said to him. Dick patted his back.

“We missed you, Jaybird…”

Jason closed his eyes.

When they pulled away, with Tim watching, he never actually got the change to get to know him. But one of these days, he will. And he’ll be a brother to him, too.

Jason nodded at him, smiling. Tim nodded back.

He never, ever would have thought they’d accept him like this, to help him like this.

And if Bruce were here, he’d have no idea what to tell him. But Jason did forgive him. He forgave him before he even knew he did. Maybe, if Bruce were anything like Dick and Tim, he would have accepted Jason back into his house. He would have helped him, as well.

He let himself think that. For his own sake. For his own peace.

Not long after, they reached the site.

Nightwing, Robin, and Red Hood stood at the Batwing’s exit doors.

-----

Harley must have had the worst of issues for her to be laughing this off, whistling as she marveled over the room. “I have to admit, Ragdoll, you cer’ainly out did yourself than the last time! I remember when all it took was Ivy’s tree to get rid of your toxin!”

Boomerang scoffed. “A tree?!”

“Gag her.”

“Awe, come on! What is it with you people and the gaggi- MMMMMM!”

Held back by a dozen of Scarecrow’s gunmen, with so many of their guns pointed right at their heads, they stood on their knees, hands tied to their backs. They watched Scarecrow walk over to them from his place near the glass. He chuckled, that low, dark, breathy, and utterly disgusting laugh when he went over the squad.

“MMM! MMM? Mmm…” Harley said to him when he passed by her. All he did was glare. When he passed by Frost, he eyed her body and how icy smoke was coming out of her pores.

“Ya know, this ain’t personal. I’d totally be into this. But we got an explosive stuck to me spine here, mate, and I really just don’t want to die,” Boomerang said. Scarecrow ignored him and walked over to Diablo.

She looked over. Diablo had melted away the ropes on his wrists and no one even noticed. He stood still, watching Scarecrow, then the rag-headed man went over to the next one.

The Bullet. The only one who actually hated this man to the bloody core.

Scarecrow looked amused at the darkness of her glower. He leaned over, pulled down her hood and mask with his disgusting fingers before she flinched away.

“Lovely to see you once more, Commander.”

“Don’t fucking call me that.”

“I thought I left you for dead. Turns out you survived your own bullets. Perhaps you're not as good as you thought you are-“

“Go to hell-“

“This is hell, Commander. At least, it will be.” When he stood back, he eyed the creature next to her.

“An animal? They brought an animal to the squad?” Scarecrow laughed.

King Shark roared. The loudest, more nightmarish roar. Then he charged after him with his large mouth littered with almost three rows of teeth on each side. The guards pulled him back, shot a taser to his arm, but it didn’t do much damage.

Scarecrow backed off and immediately he was guarded by his men.

“Kill him.”

“No!” Killer Frost screamed, but even she was held back by three guards.

And it was the most cruel thing they’ve ever seen. The Bullet watched on, as her fellow squad member was shot with three tranquilizer darts. He fell to the ground, unconscious.

Then Scarecrow’s men took out a grenade.

Shit.

They stuffed it into King Shark’s mouth.

And the squad looked away when it detonated not even two seconds later.

His head was blown off. Much like it would have been if Flag had done it himself.

Five of them left.

Against an army of hundreds.

“Now. You all get to watch as the entire country slowly descends into their deepest, darkest nightmares…”

Scarecrow went over to the center, over to the controls where she saw a bright, beeping light coming from one of the screens. She didn’t have so much as an idea about how this was going to blow. Will the building be going along with it? Is everyone going to live through it?

She should know. She was the one who detonated the first Cloudburst.

They were two hours away from the city. And the government already had most of the people in the area evacuate to shelters underground. They didn’t have much else to hide.

The guards around them had masks as well. They were going to sit it through, fight even with the gas all around them.

She had no idea what was going to happen. But all she could do was sit and watch.

Scarecrow pressed the final button, and on the screen, it showed a minute’s countdown

The Bullet closed her eyes.

There was a heat coming to her wrists. Out of view from the guards. A little flame, floating about. It melted away the chains that were around their hands, and suddenly, she could move them around. She looked over at Diablo and thanked him with a nod. Harley and Boomerang were free as well. Frost, on the other hand, rejected that fire and instead froze over the chains herself. They could charge.

But the guards were too many. She couldn’t just attack.

Time was running out. There was nothing they could do.

But they can shield themselves. At the last second when the guards couldn’t react.

“This is… the Cloudburst!!!”

Three.

Two.

One.

BOOM!!!

“EVERYBODY, GET YOUR FUCKING MASKS!” Boomerang screamed. The five of them grabbed their filter masks from their suits and held it against their mouths. Everything was shaking, an explosion large enough to almost take down its walls, then the glass started to break. The gas was leaking on the inside.

Scarecrow didn’t move. He just stood there, amused, all the while his guards started to panic, panting and coughing and tearing the masks off their faces like it only hurt their skin. She ran out of the way before a guard fell to her body, clutching his throat, before he started screaming the ghostliest noises a human could possibly make.

Then their skins. No longer did they look remotely human. They looked like they were burnt out. Their whole body turning into scabs and burnt flesh. The toxin was eating them from the inside. And their eyes. She’s never seen the look on someone’s face like that when they were looking straight at their deepest, darkest fears. Not even when she’d imagine it.

No.

He couldn’t possibly-

No.

These men. These trained soldiers promised with almost million dollars each.

Scarecrow didn’t hire them here to defend the Cloudburst.

They were here to serve as victims for his horrible toxin that turned them into vicious, mindless zombies. And they looked exactly like they would have in their visions of fear, the ones you’d merely hallucinate with his old toxin. This time, they weren’t hallucinations. The nightmarish creatures of the dark, Scarecrow had turned the people’s fears into something real.

The squad, with their masks on, held tightly onto their weapons, watching the horror in front of them unfold.

One of the creatures ran after Harley, so she swung at it with her mallet, crushing his body against the wall. It didn’t even look like it had human bones that cracked when it was hit.

No. No. No.

Everyone started firing at the creatures coming after them. At their heads, at their animalistic mouths. Frost on one side, freezing the incoming animals into an ice block, and on the other, El Diablo, firing at them with an enormous raging fire. They had to get out of here. There was no possible way they could win this here. Not with the Cloudburst looking like it was about to break.

The Bullet fired at everything she could see. With her AK on one hand and her pistol on the other. But the seemingly endless array of lifeless minions came crawling and pouncing right at her. One of them scratched her arm. She hoped this fucking toxin didn’t work through cross contamination.

Scarecrow, he was still at the center, watching it all unfold.

Scarecrow.

Fucking Scarecrow.

The Bullet screamed out, even with her mask, then opened fire as she made her way into the center walkway. She ran to him and pushed everything out of her way, blowing their brains out, jumping onto the railing and running on top of it. She took out a grenade and threw it at a crowd.

Jonathan Crane caught her eye. And with the deathly look on her face, he lost his amusement.

Then the coward started to back away.

She growled and tore through everything, running after Crane. He didn’t have much else to go.

So in a split second, she fired at his leg. The Bullet could have easily fired at his head.

But she wanted him to die from a bullet right between his eyes, that were to look right into hers in the last few moments of his life.

Scarecrow was on the ground, crawling. The Bullet walked right up to him and grabbed him by the collar. Then she aggressively slammed him against the glass where his horrible red toxin was leaking out.

“You killed my son…”

“You did that yourself-“

“No,” she tightened her hand around his neck. “No, I didn’t.”

A pistol. Right against his head. She ends this now. His story ends now. His reign on earth. His madness. His nightmare.

She couldn’t hear the bullet fire out of her hand.

But she did feel the blood spatter when it entered Jonathan Crane’s skull. She heard the crack, and the impact against the glass. She saw the look on his eyes, staring right into her. Taunting her. Waiting for her to pull the trigger until it stayed that way until the worms eat up his body.

The Bullet threw the body on the floor.

She was never, ever going to kill another human being again. She made that promise. To Jason and his family.

But if she were to kill just one last time…

She wanted to make it count.

-----

“Holy…”

“Shit…”

“We were too late.”

“Or the squad failed…”

“No,” Red Hood choked. “No, they can't be dead.”

“They might still be alive. Get your masks on. Come on.”

They put on their masks, Red Hood’s under his visor. As they ran towards the enormous mushroom-shaped cloud of smoke that was spewing violently out of the dome. The ground was quaking enough to feel like it would eventually erupt. And if they were to stay, it might actually split open. They ran towards the center.

And before they could go down the pit. They saw them. Right when they stepped into the are completely engulfed in the horrible red toxin.

They saw the creatures.

In army uniforms of what used to be humans, the creatures were screaming, running and clawing their way around the grass and bushes like they were rabid wolves under a full moon. The bodies, or what used to be bodies, looked like undead carcasses that were walking on their hands and feet. When they caught sight of the three, they started going after them.

Someone grabbed Nightwing’s shoulder.

Rick fucking Flag. He had a mask on.

“You kids better stay away. This is our mission.”

“You really want your boss’s goddamn pride to get in the way of actually saving the world? We’re here to help!”

Flag fired at one of the monsters coming right for them.

“Scarecrow’s baited his own men and turned them into these fucking shitbags.”

“Then let us help,” Robin said. Red Hood, on the other hand, was already shooting at the creatures with his two pistols.

“Red Hood!”

“Oh, don’t give me that! These guys aren’t human!” He fired at one almost flying for his visor. “They never will be again even if we destroy this thing! So get your asses here and KILL THESE GUYS!”

Rick Flag had went on to shoot them with his AK. Nightwing and Robin stared at each other, holding onto their escrima sticks and bo staff.

Flag, despite his guns, didn’t see one of the zombie-like monsters that had grabbed him from behind. It started tearing at its face, claws sharper than a cat’s. Robin and Nightwing went over to get it off him, but it was too late.

Rick Flag’s mask had fallen off.

He stared at the two, with his eyes glowing red and bloodshot from how he was desperately trying to hold his breath. He started clutching at his throat, and his mouth looked like it was about to blow up.

Flag couldn’t handle it. He gasped for air.

Then he turned into one of them. Right in front of their eyes. Nightwing gripped on his escrima sticks.

Then he slammed it against Flag’s head, destroying what was left of his skull. The guilt started to eat him away, but Red Hood was right. He wasn’t human anymore.

“Come on,” Robin said.

Then they attacked everything that came their way. They had to go into the dome. Find the Squad. Hope for the best. But the creatures were running out of the doors like they were in need of air. Hundreds of them in a stampede going out into the field. The trees had cleared, blown off from the explosion. Everything was barren and had fallen under a thick red cloud of his fucking toxin.

Red Hood managed to run all the way to the center. He shot one that had wrestled Nightwing to the ground before he slid down the pit, hands and legs outstretched, and even then, he continued to fire. He reloaded his guns and started firing at the ones going out of the dome.

----

They couldn’t possibly take them all.

So as the Squad rushed down the hallways, out into the first level where it had gone complete barren and destroyed, El Diablo continued to shoot his flames from his hands at all the incoming creatures.

Finally, they reached the door and they all raced outside.

Frost barred the door with her ice, as much as she could, and the monsters were pounding themselves against it with their own bodies and heads. The Bullet, facing behind them, fired at the incoming creatures that must have been the reinforcements waiting to be called. Fuck, there were a lot of them.

Killer Frost couldn’t handle it and the creatures had broken her wall of ice. Unnatural strength. One of the side effects of the toxin. Harley screamed her battle cry and started swinging her mallet around. El Diablo with his flames. And Captain Boomerang with, well, his boomerang.

The Bullet, with her machine gun, fired at ten of the creatures in under a second. She flew in the air. She dodged their incoming attacks. She fired directly at their heads and took out more of them than anyone else with a gun. She fired relentlessly until their heads were blown off, their bodies exploding onto the floor.

She climbed on top of a nearby truck, dropped her carbine, then used her wrist gun and pistol to fire at everything that moved.

“WOOHOO! GO NEW GIRL!” Harley screamed. The Bullet smiled, then went on with her alternating shots until she’d taken down dozens of them.

Everything that moved. Everything that moved. Everything that-

A red hood. Red visor. Gray jacket. And a red bat symbol on his chest.

Oh God.

The asshole.

“Jason!!!”

Red Hood turned around.

A wave that had crashed on the shore, violent and forceful, a wave that tore through everything in its way. Every tree. Every bush. Every doubting thought. The Bullet jumped off the truck, ignored the sting up her knees. She ran to him. She ran to him so fast that two of the monsters smashed into each other when they were going after her. Red Hood recognized her and dropped everything he had on him and sprinted to her way.

The wave was there. A crashing, powerful wave. When they landed in each other’s arms so painfully tight she could have almost fallen over if she hadn’t already clung to him with all her might. All that was left of it.

Yes.

Yes…

Everything lit up. Everything was here again. He was everything. He will always be everything.

It was a miracle they lived through it. Red Hood, with his arms shaking as much as the ground was, buried himself into her and didn’t let go until they heard the world calling out to them, demanding that they give them their attention back. But even then, they held on. Not when they thought it could have been the last. Not after they’ve just been apart. Jason pulled away, raised his visor so she could look into his eyes. He wore a filter mask underneath. And if he could see her smile right then, she was sure he was grinning his face off as well. She could tell with the way his beautiful eyes crinkled up.

“I fucking love the suit-“

Then she held out her arm and shot one of the monsters coming for them.

“We should move.”

“Yeah.”

Side by side, having each other’s backs. She knew something felt wrong fighting with the squad. No, she didn’t belong there. She never fought as well as she possibly could when she was with her partner. Now the Bullet and Red Hood, they fired and shot at everything that came their way.

“Throw me!” She screamed at Red Hood. She run up to him, and he grabbed her legs. Red Hood flung her up at the air and she fired relentlessly at twenty creatures hidden behind the truck. She got to the ground.

Then the fucking Batwing flew in and started firing.

“Woah!” The Bullet yelled.

“How cool is our butler!?”

The monsters started running towards the Batwing, and their attentions were slowly taken away from Red Hood and Bullet. Alfred had them covered.

“We have to get that bomb off you.”

“Where’s Flag? He’ll blow up the bomb if he sees me-“

“He’s dead. He can't blow it up. But we still need to get that off of you before Waller does it herself-”

The Cloudburst dome exploded once again, this time a thicker cloud of smoke blew out of it like a bomb. They held onto the ground, eyes shut. Red Hood grabbed onto her and she swore by her life that she was never going to let go.

When it subsided, they stood back up. “Come on.”

The Bullet stared at him dumbfounded, then the Red Hood grabbed her wrist, pulled her to the back where they could find Nightwing.

“Dick!!!”

Nightwing saw them, slammed his sticks into the creature’s guts, then ran towards them.

“I found a chair at the back. She needs to sit down.”

They moved fast. Waller will find out Flag is dead and detonate all their bombs before they’ll have a chance at escaping.

So they put her into a chair, and she gripped onto the arm rests. The Bullet watched Red Hood give Nightwing a pen-shaped device that had a needle on its end. She swallowed. “Hey, hey…” Red Hood leaned in and held her face. “You're gonna be okay… Scream if you have to… It won't take too long.”

She wished she could see his face. It was the only way she could ever be comforted. But his touch was enough. She held his hand, squeezed it, then Nightwing held her neck.

“Ready.”

Alfred kept firing at all the creatures coming after them. They had a few good minutes.

Y/N screamed out into the air as the needle went into the back of her neck and electrified that one spot by her spine. She gripped onto the wood. She forced her eyes shut. She never felt so much pain from being tased down but with it came the relief feeling that bomb actually stop beeping in the inside of her flesh. The shocks were excruciatingly painful, and it made every agonizing second pass by as long as a minute would have taken. Red Hood turned his head away before the look on her face broke his heart even more.

But the moment it stopped, with her body up in light smokes, she felt everything inside her calm.

It was gone. The bomb was gone. She could actually feel it. Red Hood grabbed her and pulled her to a hug immediately.

“You're safe now…”

“I love you.”

“I love you…”

Robin suddenly jumped at them and took out three incoming creatures with his staff. “Come on guys, Alfred can't handle all this by himself!”

Nightwing. Robin. Red Hood. Bullet.

Like they were all made to fight by each other’s side.

Nightwing smashed his weapons against a monster’s head, threw its body up in the air with his knee, then the Bullet fired at it with her wrist gun all the way down to the ground. He helped her up, gain higher ground, then she fought at Nightwing’s side when he took out the ones coming for her back. Robin, with his bo staff, slammed one right at the gut and let it fly through the air until Red Hood slammed its torso with his elbow, before shooting it in the head.

Red Hood shot three with his pistols, but one of them grabbed him by the head. And man, was it inhumanely strong. Nightwing slammed his stick right through its skull, just inches away from Red Hood’s head. Red Hood elbowed it away, then shot it. The Bullet kept covering them, now with her machine gun. She fired at one going after Robin, at another that had Nightwing in a headlock, and another two that were about to surround Red Hood.

So many were coming to surround her. And as the boys fought them off, she fired at them relentlessly with her gun. She jumped to the ground and fired at them with her wrist gun.

The Batwing was above them, swerving around as it took out everything that stood their way.

The Bullet looked back out at the pit, where the squad was. “We have to help them!” she said.

“What?!” Red Hood screamed. “Are you insane?”

“They just want to live! We all want this nightmare to end! You can go back to being enemies after we’ve saved the world!”

The world. Of course. By now the gas should have dispersed out of the state. They had to move.

The Bullet shot off a creature coming for Harley. And another coming for Boomerang. The man was barely holding up. El Diablo, now a raging monster completely made of fire, tore through everything in its way and burnt down all the monsters to a bloody crisp. Frost was still holding up, doing whatever she could with her ice. And the look on her face when Nightwing came along and hit one of them in the head before it could grab her, she couldn’t describe it.

And it was that way for hours on end. The creatures kept on coming. The fires started raging. The Batwing had landed on the ground but kept its bullets spewing out of its guns in a frenzied attack against the hundreds that were still around them.

But somehow, the dome acted as some sort of beacon. Because there were more incoming. From far away. She had no idea if they were still Scarecrow’s men or if they were people from the countryside that weren’t so lucky…

As far as everybody knew, they were dead.

And they were all going after the dome like flies surrounding a light.

Frost had them in a block of ice, then Diablo fried them up like fish. Harley kept with her hammer and almost hit Nightwing in the head. “Harley!”

“Sorry, handsome! Kinda got used to aiming for your pretty head!”

Jason, standing with his back right up against the Y/N’s side. They shot at the creatures with their guns not knowing if their ammo was going to take it.

“Y/N! You think we’re gonna make this!?”

She shot down a foot, an arm, then eventually a head. Y/N screamed. “It’s not looking good but I sure fucking hope so!”

Red Hood grabbed her shoulder and turned her around, firing at one she didn’t see. Y/N got a circular lid off one of the manholes and flung it into three bodies.

“Y/N! MARRY ME!!!”

She could have been grabbed by the head if she didn’t hear it coming from behind. She held out her wrist gun and fired directly behind her.

“I THINK I’VE ALREADY ANSWERED THAT QUESTION!!!”

Y/N used Jason’s body to haul herself up, swinging her leg in a circle around her before she shot all of them on the ground. Jason grabbed a creature’s head with his bare hands and squished it into its bloody bits.

“NO. I MEAN MARRY ME. RIGHT NOW!!!!”

“WHAT?!”

Almost losing her arm, she slammed her fist against its head, throwing it to the grass and slamming her boot onto its face. Jason kept firing with his two guns, faster than he ever could have fired.

“IF WE’RE GONNA DIE, WE’RE DYING TOGETHER!!”

“WHAT?!?!”

Jason grabbed her arms, flung her around him so she could repeatedly kick them down before they got anywhere near them. She fired her wrist gun and cursed when she almost missed. He started handling them by hand, punching, swerving, kicking them down with his awfully strong thighs.

“YOU EVER SEEN PIRATES OF THE CARRIBEAN!?” He smashed drove his gun into a skull and kicked him off. “THE THIRD ONE???”

“JASON, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!!??”

Y/N pressed her back against Jason, and they didn’t stop firing.

“THEY GOT MARRIED IN THE MIDDLE OF A FIGHT. IT WAS FUCKING EPIC.”

“WE’RE GOING TO FUCKING DIE-“

“EXACTLY MY POINT. I WANT TO GET OUT OF THIS WITH YOU AS MY WIFE. DEAD OR ALIVE. I DON’T WANNA WASTE ANYMORE TIME.”

She leapt up in a backflip over Jason and they switched places.

“THIS NEVER WOULD HAVE HAPPENED IF WALLER COULDN’T LEGALLY FORCE ME TO TESTIFY AGAINST YOU. I’M NOT ABOUT TO LET THAT HAPPEN AGAIN. IF ANYONE WANTS TO KEEP US APART, THEY’LL HAVE TO GO THROUGH THE FUCKING LAW!”

“JASON, YOU'RE INSANE!!!”

Five down in a single shot. Y/N kicked them down, grabbed her grappling gun, then shot it at a crate to haul it over to the monsters incoming. Jason went through the whole row of creatures climbing down the pit, and when he had the slightest window, he raised his visor.

“IS THAT A YES?!”

Y/N faced him. and Jason faced her.

It wasn’t even a fucking question. The beautiful asshole.

“YES!”

As they kept firing, Jason pressed on his communicator. “ALFRED!!!”

He tossed Y/N a communicator so they’d both be able to hear him. The butler was still in the batwing, needless to say still firing at all the monsters that have made a mountain coming after it hovering in the air.

“Yes, sir?”

“YOU STILL AN ORDAINED MINISTER?!”

He could hear Alfred sound confused.

“I do believe that is a lifelong thing-“

“MARRY US. RIGHT NOW!!!”

Alfred took out a bazooka gun on the Batwing, a new one no doubt. He didn’t remember Bruce having that when he was still alive, then stook out a crowd of twenty coming after him.

“I’m afraid I’m rather busy at the moment, Master Jason.”

“THEN MAKE IT QUICK. PLEASE, MARRY US!”

“TIM, YOU HEARING THIS?” Dick cried out into the comms. Everyone could hear it.

“I KNOW. IT’S FUCKING ROMANTIC.”

Alfred kept his calm. Then they heard a sigh.

“Alright. Do try not to get yourselves killed, Master Jason.”

“CAN DO!”

Y/N grabbed Jason’s arm, held onto him as tightly as she could, then they turned to meet each other’s eyes. Not after shooting a zombie coming for his back.

“Dearly beloved we are gathered here today…” Alfred fired another bazooka at the crowd. “To join this man, and this woman, in holy matrimony.”

Her wrist gun on a frenzy, she shot at the surrounding monsters and helped Jason kick one down with his knee. They stuck to each other’s backs, firing with their pistols.

“Jason Todd, Red Hood, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Jason’s pistol ran out of ammo, so Y/N threw him a magazine.

“I DO!!!”

She grabbed him, hurled him to the side so they’d switch places, then she started firing at a gun powder barrel she found and it immediately exploded.

“Y/FN Y/LN, Deadsh-“

“THE BULLET! I’M THE BULLET!”

Jason smiled at her with his eyes.

“Ah yes, I do apologize. Y/FN Y/LN, the Bullet, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Alfred fired at the creatures coming up to her just as she spoke. “I DO!”

Endless bullets, flying out of their hands, they fired at everything that came their way, protecting each other, shielding each other from harm’s way.

Alfred cleared his throat.

“Then with the power vested in me by the city of Gotham, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

“DICK, COVER US!”

“I GOT YOU!” Dick screamed.

“You may now kiss the bride…”

Before they’d die. Before it all ends.

They only had a minute before their lungs would give out.

So they ran into each other’s arms, taking off their masks and held their breaths to the best capacity.

Jason grabbed Y/N’s face, pulling her to his lips. Then an explosion happened in the far-off distance that blew off almost everything around them in the air. All except them.

They were one. They were together. Forever. She was his. And he was hers. For as long as they both shall live.

“IS THIS A FUCKIN’ WEDDING?!” Boomerang screamed.

Harley smashed her hammer. “I LOVE WEDDINGS!!!”

Jason leaned down and kissed her despite his chest starting to twist. She grabbed the back of his neck, pushed him back as well. Never has a kiss been more powerful, more meaningful. As far as they knew, they were alone. They were themselves. They were together. And nothing, not even the world, was ever going to pull them apart ever again.

From their first kiss in the meeting room, to the one at the Batcave, to the kiss in her quarters that one rainy night, to the kiss they shared up on that bridge. Everything had boiled down to now. Finally. Finally.

They were fucking married.

They pulled away, stared at each other, and finally they could see the largest smiles on their faces. The places the masks back on and gasped to breathe.

“Shall we?”

“We shall…”

Not a lot more to cover. The fucking monsters were finally starting to run out. And they moved in a dance only they knew. On each other’s side. Never leaving.

They shot, kicked, slammed, tore through the lifeless bodies coming after them and she cried out as another bomb exploded that she threw from her hand. She fought with her fucking husband and man, did it sound like the most beautiful thing in the world.

Nightwing and Robin came up to them.

“CONGRATULATIONS!!!” they both screamed.

“THANK YOU!”

Then Y/N handed them both guns and they started firing at the creatures.

It worked so well.

Finally.

Twenty left. Then there were fifteen. Then another ten died.

Finally.

Gone. All of the monsters. Wiped out.

The Squad was intact. Thankfully, they smiled at the Bullet and they all gathered to the center.

“I can't believe this,” Nightwing said. “But thank you for having our backs.”

“Don’t get used to it, pretty boy, when we wake up tomorrow mornin’ I’m back to slicing your head off with a-“

“Okay,” Red Hood stopped them. “Now we have to figure out a way to stop this.” He pointed up at the beacon.

“Hood,” the Bullet gulped.

“Yes, wife?”

A few of them groaned at that. Red Hood ignored them.

But the Bullet, Y/N, she didn’t look to happy.

She was staring right up at the top of the pit, shivering.

Everyone looked back to what she was looking at.

No.

No…

It wasn’t possible.

Hundreds more. Hundreds of the creatures. From all over the city. Ones with long, blonde hair. Ones that were as tiny as a small child.

It had reached civilization.

No. they couldn’t possibly handle all of them.

Robin looked at Nightwing, whose look on his eyes definitely lost that glimmering enthusiasm that sparked the hope they needed to go on.

And Red Hood.

Well, he made the right choice marrying her.

Jason held Y/N’s hand, and she took it so tightly between her fingers.

The look on their eyes, watching each other, memorizing the looks on their eyes before they go on to their inevitable deaths.

They couldn’t even see each other’s faces.

Harley slumped to the ground. “Well, this is it, ladies and gents.”

Frost screamed in frustration, releasing a large block of ice and slamming it onto the pit.

The monsters had surrounded them now. All in a complete circle. Trapping them.

And they took their time watching them squirm like worms in a tank full of fish.

This is how they die.

Y/N tightened her grip on Jason’s hand when one of the monsters roared and they all started crawling down to the dome.

“T-Tim?”

Their communicators. It sounded like Barbara.

“Yeah?”

“I hope you weren’t saving that favor for anything special,” Oracle said.

“Favor?”

“You know. That favor with Bruce’s friends…”

“What do you mea-“

Like a lightning bolt striking a tree, their eyes shot up at the brightest flash of light.

A golden, glimmering lasso, coming down from something they hadn’t seen flying in the air. The lasso grabbed onto five of the incoming beings and hauled them up.

Y/N’s never seen her up close.

But goddamn, she was nothing like the pictures.

Wonder Woman slammed against the ground on her knee and her balled up fist, letting the soil ripple at her impact. She didn’t have on a mask, but it barely wrinkled her nose. Her striking beauty was made even more obvious when she smirked up at the four, standing up, then took out her shield and sword from her back. She winked at them.

The four were too dumbfounded to move. As victims exhausted or as fanboys and fangirls watching it all unfold right in front of their eyes. Boom tubes coming from different parts in the air, and out of those circles came the heroes they’ve looked up to their whole lives.

Superman tore through a whole row of that were crawling after them with his powerful laser vision, flying through the sky faster than any of Y/N’s bullets could speed through. He grabbed one by the head, flew up to the sky, then threw it against the ground so hard that dozens of others blew up along with it.

Green Lantern made his own machine gun with his ring. He fired at everything that came close to the dome.

The Flash couldn’t even be seen. All they could see was a buzzing red light, powering all around them in circles and taking down everything that was in his path.

Green Arrow started raining down more than five arrows at a time. Ones from above. Ones from the ground. Black Canary ran up from behind them and let out that famous ear-piercing scream that took out everything that was in front of her. Even the grass.

Aquaman came up with his trident, and with Mera following behind, she let a stream of water pierce through the air like shards and a fucking shark was in it eating the heads of everything the water passed through.

Hawkgirl held her mace up in front of her and let her wings force her through the hundreds in the crowd, smashing their brains out with a single hit.

Shazam slammed on the ground, with sparks coming out of his body, then he screamed at the sky and let the biggest lightning bolt they’ve ever seen clear out a whole patch of the land the beings were standing on.

Martian Manhunter transformed into his true alien form then grabbed the monsters with his bare hands, threw them out of the way, and stomped on them with his feet. Or what looked like feet.

Cyborg. Supergirl. Zatanna. Doctor Fate. Huntress. Hawkman. Vixen. The Atom.

They were all here.

They were all going to live.

The fucking Justice League had come to save them.

Never have they seen them all in action. To them, it might have just been another day. But to them? To Batman’s wards. It was everything they ever wished to become.

It was the best, most beautiful thing they could possibly see their whole lives.

Bruce. How much he would have loved this.

Then the ground started to shake once again. The Cloudburst. It let out another load of the toxin.

They had to destroy it now.

Alfred hovered the Batwing above them and opened up the entry way. He waved his hands for them to come in. Robin, Nightwing, Red Hood, and Bullet ran into the Batwing and took their masks off.

“We can't just run off.”

“We have to go help them.”

“Actually,” Alfred said. “I’ve taken instruction from Ms. Prince.”

“She wanted us to leave?”

“No.” Alfred lead them to the windows and the looked out.

Superman, Green Lantern, Cyborg, and Supergirl were all facing the top of the dome, firing their lasers at the concentrated spot at the center. The heart of the Cloudburst. The whole building had gone up in flames, but it continued to fire up in the toxin.

“The Batwing has one more rocket bomb in its ammunition. When the League has the Cloudburst’s core exposed, we only have one shot at firing right at its center, destroying the Cloudburst for good.”

“I’ll do it,” Dick said.

“No I will!” Tim cried.

“Who said it was your turn!?”

“Who said it was yours?!”

“This isn’t a fucking argument, this is the world’s fate in our hands!”

“Exactly, which means I get to fire the Batwing.”

“Well, who exactly has the best aim in this fucking ship-“

Every pair of eyes stopped wandering around. Then they turned to the woman they called the Bullet.

No.

Fucking no.

“I can't-“

“Y/N-“

“Jason, I can't do this-“

“You can.”

“I don’t trust myself-“

“You never miss-“

“Jason.”

She grabbed his hands that were holding her face, finally she could look up at his eyes and see his lips in a smile.

“The last time I handled a tank, it was the Cloudburst… and I missed.”

“It doesn’t matter. That wasn’t your fault. You have no idea how sorry I am for being upset at that, but I know you can do this. Besides, this isn’t a tank. This is the fucking Batwing.”

“Jay…”

“Please. You're the only one who can do this.”

“I’ve never handled anything like this before.”

“You. Can. Do this.”

Looking up at Jason’s eyes, she saw just how much hope he had for her. Then he leaned in and kissed her.

“Man, is he dramatic today,” Tim said.

“Shut up, they just got married.”

When Jason pulled away, the heaviness in Y/N’s chest had slowly started to fade.

Yeah. He was right.

Her husband was right.

She does have the best aim in the room.

Alfred gestured for her to take the seat at the cockpit. And with Jason holding her hand, leading her to the front, she slowly took the front seat.

Everything was at her control. It didn’t look too intimidating. She pressed onto the buttons and breathed in. Really breathed in.

Breathe. Breathe.

Jason stood back, but not without squeezing her shoulder.

Breathe.

She opened her eyes.

Flying the Batwing over to the top of the dome, right alongside Superman and Supergirl with their lasers still pointing at the center. It won't be long now.

Everything looked brighter. Everything felt hotter. The center of the Cloudburst, at the dome that was once its protective shield.

Irony. She always thought it was what’s going to get her.

Driving the Cloudburst, using it to take down the Batmobile.

Now she was driving the Batwing to take down the Cloudburst.

Yes. Irony certainly did come out to bite her.

But it was in the fucking best way possible.

Doctor Fate and Zatanna had joined in and fired their magical beams at the same spot at the center. Slowly, after each second that passed, she could see its shield slowly start to fade away. A ball around the glass tank of the toxin collapsed. And finally, it was seconds away from its very heart exposed.

Breathe.

The Bullet turned on her optics.

Further. Closer. Brighter.

NOW.

The rocket shot through the Batwing’s bazooka and it came flying out into the air. She waited for that half a millisecond watching it fall to the very spot she aimed at.

Everyone flew out of the sky before it landed on the Cloudburst.

Then the entire dome exploded like a massive nuclear bomb tearing out into the sky with its violently flying debris. The Justice League and the Suicide Squad had cleared out, and with the explosion it took away all the remaining nightmare creatures, dissolving them into the air as nothing but ash.

Everything was loud. Everything was bright. They shielded their eyes away before it blinded them and hid as the dome continued to explode.

They were so high up in the air that they could see the stars up in space despite it already the morning.

And as the bombing sounds had faded…

So did the toxin.

The once red cloud that had covered the sky had dwindled away to its natural white. Everything fell down in beautiful pink ashes. The same ones from when Ivy destroyed the first Cloudburst. They looked up at the sky, and with tears down their faces, everyone leapt in joy and cheered when everything looked as peaceful as it once was.

On the ground where the dome used to be, a crater of soil was left behind. No more creatures. No more darkness. No more Scarecrow.

Everyone took off their domino masks and visors. Dick took Tim and they screamed in happiness, jumped in the air, hugged each other until it hurt like girls at a sleepover. They took Alfred in as well and gave him the biggest bear hug there was.

“DID YOU FUCKING SEE THAT, BABE!?” Tim said into his comms.

Babs was just as ecstatic as they were. “I’M SO PROUD OF ALL OF YOU!!”

“WE FUCKING SAVED THE WORLD!!!” Dick leapt for joy.

“I THOUGHT WE WERE GONNA DIE OUT THERE.”

“I KNOW. THEN FUCKING WONDER WOMAN CAME IN AND DESTROYED EVERYTHING I MEAN HOW CAN ANYONE GET AS AWESOME AS THAT?!”

“YOU SHOULD HAVE SEEN THE LOOK ON YOUR FACE,” Tim screamed. “IT’S LIKE YOU SAW HER AT FUCKING COMIC CON.”

“ALFRED.” They pulled him in. “TELL ME. DID BRUCE EVER DO ANYTHING LIKE THAT IN HIS LIFE?!”

“Well, other than the ten times he’s defeated Darkseid over at outer space, no I don’t think he has.”

“ WE STILL WIN. WE FUCKING DID IT!!!”

“JASON, DID YOU SEE IT WHEN GREEN LANTER- Jason?!”

They looked around. Jason hadn’t joined them in their little celebration.

Jason and Y/N were over at the back, kissing for what seemed to have been the last ten minutes and completely ignoring everything that went on around them. She was holding his face, and he was hugging her waist. Didn’t even stop when Tim cleared his throat.

Dick, on the other hand, had went up to one of the compartments and had grabbed a bottle of champagne they had stored there for purposes like this.

“Can't believe we almost forgot. CONGRATULATIONS TO THE NEWLYWEDS !!!”

Everyone in the Batwing clapped for joy and the couple finally stopped kissing, turning their heads over to smile at them.

“THIS CALLS FOR A CELEBRATION!”

“CHAMPAGNE FOR EVERYONE.”

Jason thumbed her cheek. “You alright with our reception being held in the Batwing?”

Y/N shrugged. “I mean, I wanted to book a caterer, but-“

Jason pulled her face again and kissed her with their hearts light and their spirits so high up in the sky.

A future. She could see it. It was all flashing in front of her eyes now.

Finally, something good had happened out of the series of darkness.

They drank, cheered, partied in the Batwing while it went in a really slow autopilot on its way back to the cave. They hung out like any group of friends would have. Like any family would have.

Jason held her hand the whole time. And Y/N held it even tighter.

This was the end. And it was beautiful, peaceful, promising.

And above all else, it was fucking epic.

-----

EPILOGUE

As if the world hadn’t already stopped surprising them, they continued to go through that very same day bringing them almost to the brink of a heart attack.

When the grounds to the Batcave descended, when the Batwing parked itself in its spot, when its entryway folded down for them all to walk down to, everyone was still in their high, laughing, skipping when they walked down the ramp and out into the walkway.

“Babs!”

Barbara wheeled right towards them and Tim held her in his arms, pulling her up to his level so he could carry her. They all cheered.

“I can't believe you thought of calling the League!”

Babs laughed. “Obviously, you needed help.”

Everyone started talking at the same time, each of them telling Babs one side of the story and how it happened. Explaining in detail how Wonder Woman did this and how Aquaman did that. Even Y/N was so excited she couldn’t stop talking about how Green Arrow’s aim was something she’d admired for so long. A bubble of noise, happy noise. Kids being together.

Like no time even passed. They continued on and on about everything that happened.

Then Jason looked behind at the computers. He stopped talking. His smile faded away. His heart stopped. His whole body stopped.

Everyone saw the look on his face and turned to look at what he was seeing.

At first, he looked just about as regular as any tall man.

And if you hadn’t been expecting it, like practically everyone in the room didn’t, no one would believe it at first glance.

Black shirt. Basic jeans. A jacket over his shoulders. Hair so long it had gone down to his neck pushed back.

But it was him. So undeniably him.

“Oh my god…” Babs whispered.

Bruce Wayne smiled at all their faces. Jaws on the ground. Eyes so incredibly wideset. He didn’t look the least bit bothered.

He walked on over closer to them, hands in his pockets. He stood a few yards away so as to not startle them.

His children.

“Dick…” he greeted.

The eldest choked on his breath. “Bruce…”

Bruce looked over at the girl with fiery red hair.

“Barbara…”

“Oh. My. God.”

Bruce grinned, then he looked over at the man beside her.

“Tim…”

“You're alive…” Tim breathed.

Then when Bruce met Jason’s eyes, everyone parted to give him his way. Bruce started walking towards him, and Jason swallowed on his tongue.

He hadn’t prepared for this.

Not by a long shot.

He thought he was never, ever going to see him again.

He never thought he’d have the chance to make things right.

And now, he did.

Bruce stood in front of Jason.

“Welcome back…” Bruce said. “My son…”

Jason pulled him into a hug, much to Bruce’s surprise. Much to everyone’s surprise.

But he wanted to skip all the thinking and the doubts and the holding back to everything he’s ever wanted to say to him.

Jason forgave him. Already after two years. And it meant so much that Bruce had forgiven him too.

Bruce hugged him back.

Bruce never hugs anyone back.

But he patted Jason’s shoulder and held him as tightly as any father could possibly hold his son. Jason was crying. Hell, everyone in the room was crying. Even Alfred was shedding a tear. Everyone watched on as they fell into each other’s embrace longer than they’ve had with anyone else.

Eventually, Bruce had to pull away.

“I’m so sorry…” Jason cried.

Bruce held his shoulders.

“Jason…” he said. “You have no idea how proud I am of you…”

Jason realized he’s never heard those words before.

He hugged him again, just because he couldn’t hold it back anymore. Y/N dried her tears with her shirt and met Jason’s eyes from over Bruce’s shoulder.

“Bruce…” Jason pulled away. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

Y/N stood straight up. She dusted off her suit. She straightened her neck.

“This is Y/N,” Jason said with his hand on her back. She stretched out her hand, and Bruce took it.

“I’ve heard of you. Your girlfriend-“

“Wife.”

Her smile was so beautiful when he said it.

“My wife.”

Bruce shot up his eyebrows. “I see. Well, it would have been better if we had a talk-“

“Don’t. Do that.”

“I’m kidding,” Bruce laughed.

Y/N cleared her throat. “Such a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“Y/N… I know who you are and who you were…”

“Bruce…”

He nodded at Dick.

“You were the Commander of the militia army. You were Deadshot. You took over your uncle’s old jobs.”

“Bruce, you don’t have to-“

He didn’t even look at Jason’s direction.

“And you drove the Batwing today…”

Y/N was scared shitless shivering on her own two feet. It wasn’t because she was talking to Batman, someone she almost had killed. It was because she was talking to her freaking father in law.

Jason swallowed.

“And I also happen to know… that you worked with my sons like a perfectly trained team and singlehandedly saved thousands of lives…”

Everyone’s eyes lit up. Especially hers.

“What do we call you now?”

“The Bullet,” she swallowed. “I’m the Bullet.”

“Well, Y/N,” he smiled. “The Bullet.”

Then he stretched out his hand.

“Welcome to the family.”

-----

MASTERLIST

THE BULLET MASTERLIST

-----

TAGLIST

@everyartistwas-firstanamateur

@sarcasmismyfirstlove

@damned-queen-of-gotham

@idkmanicantenglish

@wunderstell

@birdy-bat-writes

@get-loki

@everyday-imfangirling

@comic-nerd-dc

@multifandoms916

@icequeen208

@offendedfishnoises

@egdolan

@xemiefx

@arkhamtoddler

@elsenthal

@mythicbitchx

@supremehaunter

@lucy-roo

@roseangel013bf

@loxbbg

@reclusive-chicken-nugget

@l-inkage

@http-cherries

@shadowsndaisies

@river9noble

@zphilophobiaz

@annoylinglyaries

@knightfall05x

@flowersgirl02

@hyp-oh-critical

@satan-s-ass

#Jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd reader insert #arkham knight #arkham knight x reader #arkhamverse #suicide squad #floyd lawton #deadshot #the bullet #the bullet series #batarella

147 notes · View notes

something-fanfiction-ie · 4 years

Text

Guardian Angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of abuse of kidnapping. Again, details of murder/crime scenes, curse words.

A/N: Hello, hello, hello! So, again, I find myself having to cut this in half. I originally planned on the team getting to you at this point in the story but I got a little carried away. I’ve been thinking about this series so much that it’s ridiculous. Low-key wish I’d been able to direct a CM episode like this. The things I could do with a camera... solely focused on Matthew for a 45 minute episode. Heh. Anyways, remember to like, comment, reblog, send me asks, and basically do the job of producing serotonin for me like my brain is supposed to do naturally. Thank you so much for sticking around and I’ll be sure to get the next part out to you ASAP!

___

[ Part One | Part Two | Part Three ]

It was hours later before Spencer felt the incessant buzzing of his phone against his thigh.

Immediately annoyed and already tired of the day, he didn’t even bother to look at the caller ID before sending it straight to voicemail. Blindly, he rummaged around in the bottom of his satchel for his keys. Spots danced across the back of his left eyelid as he tried to rub the exhaustion away.

Everything about today had been awful. From finding out the girl of his dreams, who he had only known for three weeks, mind you, could be a serial killer to the fact that, without you, nothing made any sense in this case. Even if you weren’t the unsub, you were an integral piece to finding out who was.

After you had left the office earlier this afternoon, Spencer had made it his mission to investigate every other person connected to you. He’d even gone so far as to track down your father to the other side of the globe, having somehow made his way to Europe in order to stay out of you and your mother’s lives.

Try as he might, every possible lead led to a brick wall spray painted to say, ‘She’s the killer.’ Having spent most of the day trying to convince himself that you were the unsub, he was tired of fighting his instincts for fear of compromising himself. Something wasn’t right in this investigation and he just couldn’t figure out what it was.

When his phone started to buzz again as he pushed the key into the key hole, he couldn’t help the sudden surge of anger that seemed to take over his body. Hastily yanking one hand from the door, he reaches into his pocket and presses the answering button.

“Hello, this is Dr. Reid.” His tone is harsh and mechanically echoes back into his ear. Whoever is on the other side of the line is quiet for one second, then two. For five seconds no one responds and Spencer has the time to balance the phone between his cheek and his shoulder so that he could go about removing his bag and shuffling into his car.

“You really thought it was her, didn’t you, Dr. Reid?” Although the natural pitch of the voice suggests a woman, or maybe even a young boy, there is an underlying tone that suggests that it’s a man. Spencer is frozen in place, his bag sitting in the passenger seat of his car, one hand on the inside of the door and the other on the steering wheel.

Slowly, he reaches up to relieve his shoulder from the duty of holding his phone, his long fingers curling around the device. His eyes squinted, the way they usually did when he was thinking. With his other hand, nervously, he reaches up to push away a curl that has escaped from behind his ear.

“Who is this?” He regrets the question the moment it falls from his lips. Someone who has gone the painstaking lengths that this man has gone through to keep himself out of the investigation would not simply reveal his identity when no one even had a suspicion of him.

“Wrong question, Doctor. Try again.” Swallowing past the lump that has started to form in his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the action, Spencer stretches back across the driver seat of his car to grab his bag. The leather strap digs into the palm of his hand and he drags it toward him, feeling like he was stuck on rewind as he goes about undoing everything he’d just done.

“What do you want?” The click of the door lock is the only sound for three seconds before the man responds again, a sadistic excitement escalating the pitch of his voice.

“Out of life? From a specific restaurant? Be specific in your questioning, Doctor.” He laughs a little breathlessly. In the moments where he doesn’t talk, Spencer strains to hear anything that could help him, but he can’t even hear the guy breathe let alone identify background noise.

“What is your purpose in calling me?” Getting back into the building is a hassle while on the phone, but he manages it nonetheless. There would be no sleeping tonight after a call like this. The elevator button glows a pale yellow as Spencer stabs it with one of his long fingers. For now they are steady, his hands that is, but the full effect of what is happening and what it means hasn’t actually hit him full force yet.

“To inform you of two things; the first being that you are wrong. I killed all those people and I killed them because of you.” The breath in his throat hitches. All of his worst dreams and nightmares have come crawling out of the woodworking and across his skin like thousands of tiny spiders.

“The second being that I’ll be hanging out with our mutual friend for a while, so you may not see her for a little bit.” There is a creaking of a door before he hears you. Your voice is already hoarse from screaming and the sound of restraints clacking against a concrete flooring puts the picture of you in a dungeon deep into his head.

“Spencer?! Spencer his name i-” The sound of a hand making contact with skin makes Spencer’ blood boil with rage.

Curling into the corner of the elevator, hunching his shoulders into himself and covering an ear with the palm of his opposite hand, Spencer speaks slowly and deliberately into the speaker.

“Do not touch her.” The man on the line chuckles, reaching out to run a finger along the edge of your jawline. You snatch your head away, your slapped cheek already turning pink, and push back against the wall.

“I’m afraid it’s already too late for that. Happy hunting.” The doors of the elevator open as soon as the line goes dead. Everything in Spencer kicks into overdrive, his mind flying so fast that he could barely manage to keep up with it himself.

Hotch, ready to leave for the day, stands in the opening. The tired look in eyes only grows when he sees the young profiler standing in his way, his face drained of blood and his phone still desperately clutched to his ear.

“What’s happened?”

Not so far away, the door to the empty, concrete basement shuts you in by yourself. Around your ankle is a handcuff attached to a car chain that is anchored to the floor. If you crawl to it, dragging your injured leg behind you, you can see the shoddy soldering done to create this makeshift dungeon.

In the corner is a mattress with a thin cotton blanket probably from dollar general or somewhere equally as cheap. A lamp sits beside it, the wooden bottom nailed into the floor to keep you from using it as a weapon. The only other thing is a wooden chair that is planced just below a high rectangle window. A couple of desperate shakes against the leg confirms that it is also nailed to the floor.

With nothing of use, save maybe the blanket, you go about taking a collection of your injuries.

The top of your head is leaking a steady stream of blood that drips down the side of your face and sticks your hair to your cheek. The sight of so much blood coming from your head is alarming at first, but just as quickly as you started to panic, you remember that head wounds can bleed quite a lot. No matter how small.

On the opposite side as your head injury is a deep cut on your cheekbone. It has stopped bleeding, dry blood clogged around the torn skin and flaking along your cheek when you run your finger over it.

Your thigh is a different issue all together, the knife wound throbbing with pain no matter how you shift or apply pressure. You’ve coated your hands in gloves made of your own blood trying to staunch the bleeding, hissing and whimpering the whole time.

All three injuries had happened in a matter of minutes, starting with the knife to your thigh.

You drove for an hour and a half toward nowhere in particular, only pulling off the road when the gun jammed into your neck and Harvey snapped at you from the back.

“Turn right on the dirt road.” The tiny car bumped and bounced around the dirt and gravel, driving straight for another fifteen minutes. You were surrounded by nothing but trees and hills and although you’d been familiar with the area where you’d pulled off the road, you weren’t sure where you were.

When the gun jammed back into your neck and Harvey screamed for you to stop, you slammed so hard on the brakes that he rocked forward and hit his head on the back of the passenger seat. The crunch of his breaking nose was sickening to your ears, but the bite of the seat belt digging into your collarbone and neck was enough to keep you from vomiting.

“You bitch!” He cried, the hand not holding a gun to your neck flew up to catch the blood that fell from his nose. Despite his attempts, a drop or two still managed to fall to the floor and soak into the fabric. His DNA would be on this car, you could only hope that he was in some sort of system. Even now, after everything you’d been through today, you still trusted the team of FBI Agents to find you before it was too late.

The safety on the gun made a clicking noise, your entire body freezing in place as you looked at everything around you. You were in a big dirt field, trees surrounding a patch of land that may have once been the grounds for a home. Now, only your car, a red SUV, and red soil were the only things there to see.

Harvey moved around in the back seat, you could see him in your rear view mirror as he pulled tissues from his pocket and shoved them into his broken nose. When he was finished he pulled out a pocket knife. His eyes were two beady slits of black as he met your gaze in the mirror.

“We’re going to get out of this car, and get into that car right over there. I’ll get in the driver’s seat, and you get in the trunk. Understood?” Sweat slicked your hair to your temples as you shook your head, your grip on the steering wheel so tight that your fingertips had started to tingle.

“You aren’t a good shot, Harvey. The moment we get out of this car, I’ll run.” The knife in his hand popped to attention at your words, gleaming in the sunlight. Somehow, it was only four o’clock in the afternoon and you had already been through hell.

“You won’t be able to.” He said, his hand shooting forward and sinking into your leg. Through the shock of it all, you’d barely felt it even after he pulled the bloody knife back and flipped it shut. You gaped at the wound, watching as the blood seeped out, soaked into your pants, and smeared onto the leather covering of your seat.

The back door opened, the car still alive and thrumming underneath you as he hurried over to your side of the car. You didn’t think, you just acted, throwing the car out of park and letting the adrenaline pumping through your veins mask the pain it caused you to slam on the gas.

Maybe you would have made it, drove out of here and been able to make it to a hospital before you bled out in your own car, but it had been raining nearly nonstop for three weeks and your car was not made to go fast in mud. Your tires spun long enough for Harvey to throw your door open and slam the butt of his gun into your head, causing your face to slam into the steering wheel and render you unconscious.

By the time you came back to yourself, Harvey had been carrying you down the steps and into a basement or cellar of some kind. You had no idea where you were or how long you had been out, only that your entire body was sore and cold.

“Ah, you’re awake. Good. I wanted to apologize about earlier, you just made me a little angry. But we’re better now. I even took those bloody clothes off you. I’ve got your room made up for you and if you’re good, I might let you talk to a friend of ours.” His tone is cheerful, his dark eyes complimenting the dark bags underneath them.

Harvey had been in several of your classes when you went to Georgetown, a friendly face amongst all the older kids who used to sneer at you when you tried to do anything. You wouldn’t actually say you were friends, just two people who were kind to each other. Later, once you parted ways after graduation, he became the personal assistant of your agent. He told you he was just trying to make ends meet while he was going back to school for his masters. It was such a surprise to see you again!

Then last month he quit after the death of his mother, thanking your agent for the experience and moving back to whatever town it was he used to lived in that you never bothered to ask about. Agents have multiple clients, yours was no exception, so you thought nothing of the change in personal assistants based solely on the fact that you barely noticed. Her life didn’t revolve around you and yours didn’t revolve around her.

But now, locked in a basement wearing nothing but your underwear and a tank top, blood soaking through a bandage around your thigh, with the really cute man you’d based a character on believing that you were a serial killer, you wish you’d noticed him more.

...

Garcia was the one to suggest looking at the security footage of the parking lot. She’d been clacking away on her tablet and trying to not seem disappointed about being dragged back to the BAU so quickly, when someone asked where you would have gone from here.

“What if he took her from here?” Everyone had looked at her with varying degrees of peculiar looks. Someone being kidnapped from the parking lot of a building full of FBI Agents? It would be comical if kidnappings weren’t a serious issue. Ironic. That’s the word Penelope was looking for. It was ironic.

“I mean, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to look at the security footage but her lawyer walked her to her car, it was broad daylight. What are the-” Prentiss’ mouth snaps shut and her lips purse just a little when Penelope brings up the video on the big screen.

Just thirty minutes before you walk outside, a small and stocky figure jimmies open your back door and slides in. He must slide to the passenger side of the backseat because he disappears from view. While he isn’t dressed in an extremely unusual manner, the hat and the black hoodie he is wearing help to hide his identity from the camera hanging over him.

Fast forward thirty minutes and all eyes trained to you as you drop your keys and bend to pick them up. Guilt hits every single member on the team, Spencer probably more than the rest, when they watch your head drop into your hands once you’re in the confines of your car.

An arm extends across the backseat, coming into view of the camera as the unsub presses a gun into your neck. In a matter of fourty-five seconds, you start the car and pull out of the parking spot.

“So we can rule out Jeremy.” Spencer says plainly, shuffling the papers in front of him as he thinks. Across the table Hotch nods his head in agreement. Jeremy was tall, maybe an inch shorter than Spencer, and he while he had an athletic build it was more lean muscle than the wide and stocky build the unsub had.

Penelope is quick to gather her things and head for her office, already planning on trying to follow your path through traffic cameras. It would be a grueling process, but it was the least she could do after digging through your life to, unintentionally, frame you for eight murders you didn’t commit.

“We interviewed everyone she has a connection to, in state or not. She’s an extremely low-risk victim, her circles don’t run that big.” Morgan has his own tablet pulled into his lap and he tilts his chair this way and that. A coin weaves in and out of his fingers and his forehead wrinkles as he goes over the list in his mind.

“Then we’ve already talked to our unsub, we just have to figure out which one it was.”

The first names to go are those out of state; your mother, your father, your best friend, and a handful of people you were connected to through the publishing firm. While the remaining names are few in numbers, it still puts Spencer on edge. They didn’t have the kind of time to be wasting energy of persons of interest, they needed one name identifying their unsub.

Nevertheless, the names are split amongst the group of profilers who work tirelessly through the night. The sun soon rises and glares through the window of the BAU conference room, putting Spencer Reid right into it’s spotlight.

There are bags under his eyes, eyes that take longer to open every time he blinks. He’s read the same paragraph eight different times, his cheek perched against the heel of his palm and his elbow propped on the tabletop. When he pushes back from the table, taking the file with him as he tries to walk away the exhaustion, it isn’t for the first time that night.

All he can think about is that final look you gave him as you walked out the door. It was a look of complete and utter betrayal, like you’d been trying to convince yourself that he was somehow oblivious in your being accused of the murders and seeing him there had been a punch of truth in the gut. He’d gone forward when you stumbled, reflexively reaching out to steady you on your feet before his mind could process the action.

Spencer has been doing that since he met you, trying to protect you like he was a giant ball of bubble wrap around you. He’d done it that day in the bookstore, throwing all precautions to the wind when he held the back of your head to keep you from hitting that bookshelf. He’s done it several times at a coffee shop you both enjoy visiting on his days off, physically maneuvering your body when he realizes that your current trajectory will cause you to ram your hip into a table corner.

One time, he’d been walking with you across the street when a man on a bicycle had come flying out of nowhere. You’d been just a step in front of him, your head tilted over your shoulder and your hands flying around with animation as you told him a story. Truly, he wasn’t sure how he knew to reach out and grab your shoulders, you have a way of telling stories that makes the entire world fall away. Yet, as if he was Spider-Man or something, every cell in his body suddenly cried out and he didn’t hesitate in pulling you back.

The force Spencer used to pull your body into his chest had sent you both tumbling to the sidewalk behind you.

“Are you okay?” You’d said, turning so that you were hovering over him with the sun framing you like a halo around your head. Surely you could feel the rapid escalation of his heartbeat with the way you tenderly place one of your small hands over his chest.

In the end he had to pull you to the side of the busy street to put a band-aid on your elbow where it had hit the concrete. It had been in the bottom of your bag and it had Scooby-Doo on it.

Despite his eidetic memory, some moments always manage to fade a little more than others. Some moments stick out more, like when you had reached out to smooth a stray curl away from his face. Your fingers were featherlight against his temple, your head tilted just a little to the side, and a soft smile stretched your lips.

“You’re my guardian angel.”

Some guardian angel he was, accusing you of murder on eight accounts and then letting you be kidnapped by someone who had no qualms about slapping you. God only knows what else he was comfortable with.

“I’ve got a lead!” Garcia burst into the room, her chest heaving as she sent videos and pictures to the screen for everyone to see. Spencer couldn’t see her face as she bent over her tablet, punching in information and instructions, but he nearly peppered it with kisses when she started to explain what they were all seeing.

“I managed to track (Y/N) to a little town about and hour and a half away when she, probably on purpose, ran a red light just in front of a gas station.” The video of your car creeping through a four-way traffic light until it turned red and captured you on camera was time stamped for yesterday afternoon around four o’clock.

“If you look closely, she turns onto a dirt road just a few seconds later,” Sure enough, every eye in the room watches as your car disappears behind a cluster of trees across from the BP on the left side of the video. “Satellite pictures show that little dirt road leads to one house that burned down a year ago.”

Mouths open, cogs turns, but Penelope Garcia once again proves her intelligence when she merely waves one hand in their direction and uses the other hand to pull up several documents and articles.

“Don’t sweat it. There’s no connection at all. Belonged to a Martin and Elisa Lewis back in the fifties before it was abandoned in the seventies. It was a local haunt where teenagers went to smoke, get drunk, have parties, and do the crazy and reckless things teenagers love to do. One of these reckless things led to a fire and burned the place down. But what’s important is what leaves this place fourty-eight minutes and twenty seconds after (Y/N)’s car enters.”

The video jumps forward in time, resuming as a red SUV pulls off the road and comes back for the stoplight. They can’t manage to get a license plate, the car being recently purchased by the unsub and the paper temporary being stuck to the inside of a tinted window, and they don’t manage to get a good image of the unsub driving. It feels, for a quarter of a second, as if there is no lead at all, until Spencer jumps to his feet.

“We need to see if her car is still there.”

The hour and a half drive takes fifty minutes with their lights on, mud kicking up beneath their tires as they pull into the empty lot. Your car sits abandoned in the middle, your back tires sunk into a pile of mud. The mass collection of blood on your driver’s seat makes Spencer nauseas. Rossi gives him a reassuring pat on the back.

It does nothing for Spencer’s nerves. He is truly the worst guardian angel ever.

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid angst #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #criminal mind imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds self insert

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troop-scoop · 4 years

Text

Mistakes & Regrets IX

Summary: When a trip to your Dad’s hometown of Hawkins goes wrong, you end up in the year 1983, and have to learn how to cope with being stuck in the past.

Pairing: Steve Harrington / Future!Reader (like, a really slow burn)

Warnings: Swearing, (Italics are memories when they’re in bulk, but if it’s one line it’s a thought!)

A/n: Yes I know, a bit of a confusing chapter, I will clear it up as the story goes on.

•••

“Okay, so, in this example,” Mike pointed to the paper he’d drawn on in red pen, of a line, like a tightrope, with a stick figure and a crapily drawn bug. “We’re the acrobat, Will, Barbara, that monster and you are this flea.” the dark haired child told you, pointing to the paper. “And this is the Upside Down, where you hid, and where Will is hiding. Mr Clark said the only way to get there is through a rip through time and space, that’s how you got there, even though you’re from the future.”

You nodded without much though, brows furrowed. You didn’t expect such a detailed lecture from a twelve year old, yet, here you were.

“Caused by a gate.” Dustin added.

“That we tracked to Hawkins lab.”

“With our compasses.”

You nodded again. “That would make sense. . . It would probably have a stronger electromagnetic field than the north pole, so the needle would point you to the gate.” You weren’t good in science class, but you did still know things.

“Exactly!” Dustin explained. “See, guys!” He told his friends, gesturing to you. “Even the time traveling weirdo knew!”

“This gate underground?” Hopper asked.

The girl, who’s name you learned was Eleven, looked to Hopper with a blank expression. “Yes.”

“Near a large water tank?” He asked again.

Her answer was the same. “How did you know all that?” Dustin questioned.

“He’s seen it.”

You looked to your grandmother who’s grip on your hands tightened as she began to speak to Eleven. “Is there any way that you could. . . that you could reach Will? That you could talk to him in this-”

“The Upside Down.” Eleven corrected.

You knew that Joyce was holding onto you so tightly because you were her granddaughter, and just a kid, but you also resembled her son in many ways.

“Down. Yeah.” Joyce whispered.

“She did it with me. . . When I was there. I saw her.” You told them. “She saw me too.”

“I didn’t do that.”

•••

What were you supposed to be thinking about while emptying a bag full of salt into the large kiddie pool with Hopper and Jonathan? That this was normal? That any of it had you feeling like you were perfectly sane. You felt like you were losing your mind.

Maybe you were. Maybe you were really in 1983, but you’d imagined what that boy had said to you. That you imagined that entire scenario of buying a kid water balloons. Maybe you never did see Eleven in the Upside Down, as the middle schoolers liked to call it. But she remembered you too.

Maybe you weren’t crazy. Maybe you were just. . . having a fever dream. That had to be it, right?

No, this was real, you were just trying to deny it, find any semblance of hope that you weren’t really there, filling up a kiddie pool with salt that Hawkins used for the roads.

There was no explanation for how you could have possibly seen that boy in August, even though you didn’t show up in 1983 until September 5th. There was no explanation as to how you could have seen Eleven in that place, when she wasn’t the one who made it happen.

But now you could clearly remember quite a few moments where things didn’t seem to add up in Hawkins. Like how you’d been walking with your dads and your brother, and stopped at the crosswalk with two girls who didn’t seem to know what personal space was, talking about Madonna as if she was new. Their clothing way out of date, with a pair of Levi’s, and , but you were never one to judge.

But maybe they were talking about Madonna as if she was new, because she was to them. There were so many ‘maybes’ that you could dwell on, theorize over, analyze like you were good at, but that was exhausting. You’d barely eaten that day, just two donuts and a coffee and that was earlier in the day, it was late now, you were tired, and wanted to sit in the shower.

The realizations just kept coming to you, though. Memories of being in Hawkins and seeing people who were out of place, or like the time you’d gone to a cafe with your family in what your dad used to be the arcade he always went to as a kid, and you’d blinked once after getting your smoothie, and the entire cafe was replaced with arcade games and children happily playing them before you blinked again and you were back in the cafe.

The same happened when you’d been walking around Hawkins the afternoon before the incident in the restaurant that made you run off, and end up in that place. You’d been minding your own business when it happened, once again, you blinked, and everything was slightly different, hazy, yet clear. It looked like 1980’s Hawkins instead of the one you’d been in.

Pulling the empty bag away from the kiddie pool, you tossed it onto the floor and looked at Joyce who nodded a bit, holding the goggles you’d found in a science lab that Joyce covered in duct tape to make it dark for Eleven.

You then looked to Dustin who lowered an egg into the kiddie pool, and to your relief, it floated. “Okay, Kid, let’s get you in.” Eleven nodded a bit, taking the watch off of her wrist and handing it to Mike who put it on his wrist. Joyce handed her the goggles. Grabbing onto Eleven’s hand, you helped her into the pool while everyone surrounded the pool, watching as she lowered herself down to float in the salt water.

Joyce took your hand, holding it in her own. Her spare steadying Eleven in the water while your spare reached out for the girl’s hand, which she grabbed onto and held tightly in her’s.

“Barbara?” Eleven questioned. Your eyes looked to Nancy whose gaze was focused on the twelve year old female.

“Is Barb okay? Is she okay?”

You gave Eleven’s hand a gentle squeeze, the kind your Pa taught you how to do. She squeezed your hand back but didn’t relinquish her grasp, which told you something was wrong.

“Gone. Gone! Gone!” Joyce released your hand and grabbed onto her shoulders while Hopper grabbed the girl’s other hand.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay.” Joyce kept repeating while Eleven calmed down. But Nancy wasn’t calm, instead holding back tears of her own while Jonathan held her.

“Castle Byers. Will?”

Your ears perked up, and so did Joyce’s. “Tell him. Tell him I’m coming, Mom is coming.”

From the walkie that you’d brought and placed on the medal cart holding the bags of salt you could hear his voice “Hurry”

•••

“Hey, Pa, Look at this!” Daniel said excitedly, holding out his phone for Pa to see the new high score on Tetris.

“Kid, I can't, I’m driving.” Pa reminded, gesturing to the empty road. You were close to Dad’s hometown now. Hawkins, Indiana a small town in northern Indiana, but not anywhere close to Lake Michigan.

“Yeah, Danny, Pa’s driving.” You told him matteraffactly with a smile. You were the older sibling, it was your job to antagonize your little brother.

“Shut up!”

“Daniel!” Dad scolded, turning to face the two of you from the passenger seat of the Chevy. His usually soft and kind eyes, clearly annoyed with how the two of you had been treating each other the entire trip. “Stop telling your sister to shut up all the time. It’s rude, and annoying.”

You chuckled a bit and the tip of Dad’s pointer finger was facing you, causing you to just smile brightly at him, thoroughly amused.

“Will, c’mon, you know her ‘fear sensor’ is broken. Remember when Danny threatened her with a fork?”

You chuckled again and Dad just sighed at the memory, turning back to face the windshield. You’d all gotten back getting fast food, Daniel ordered boneless wings, and it came with a plastic fork. You’d said something to annoy him, and flat out, in front of your fathers, Danny threatened to stab you with it. To which you responded ‘Do it, Punk.’ You weren’t scared of your brother.

The car grew quiet except for the music playing on the radio, which quickly turned to mostly static, which drew everyone’s attention. “Can I connect my phone?” You asked, holding up the device.

“Uh. . . yeah, yeah sure.” Dad told you.

“What? Why can’t I ever connect mine?” Daniel demanded. Offended that on the way to Indiana only you and your parents had played things from your phones.

“Because we actually have good music!” You shot back.

“What? Mine’s way better!”

“Dubstep isn’t music, asshole!”

“Hey!” Pa and Dad both shouted at the same time, Dad holding the cord out to you to connect your phone, and the moment you reached for it, the static shifted a bit.

“August fifth 1985-”

Your dad reached to the volume knob, turning it to the right to turn it up, amplifying the static female voice over the airwaves.

“September- Castle by-”

“Dad?”

“Sh!” Dad told Daniel. Your brother’s hand found your own on the center seat while the two of you watched your Dad staring at the radio intently while Pa stole frequent glances to his husband while still trying to keep an eye on the road.

“I’m sorry- Mist-”

“Will? Babe, what’s wrong?” Pa asked. He was freaking all of you out a bit with how intently he was listening to the familiar voice.

“Sh!” He repeated, stunning you all into permanent silence.

“No word for- Explainat- Ste-”

The radio went back to normal, and you saw the unreadable expression on your dad’s face and he leaned back into his seat, eyes still on the radio as Ed Sheeran’s name came across the screen, as well as the name of the song.

“Dad? What was that?”

He stayed silent.

“You know, Sweetheart, sometimes when we’re in a lower area than before, the signal doesn’t reach us as well. . . It kinda changes between two stations.” Pa tried to reason, his hand holding Dad’s as he continued driving.

“Yeah. . . Right.” You agreed, though you weren’t convinced, something about it wasn’t right.

•••

“Name please? Your full name.”

Looking up from the iron tabletop you met eyes with the man who had a few papers sprawled around on his side of the table, a fountain pen at the ready to write.

You hesitate for a moment. “Y/n Byers L/n.”

Everything was too much, trying to process how Joyce and Hopper left you, Nancy and Jonathan with the kids, and then Nancy and Jonathan left which resulted in all of this. The trauma of holding Mike in your arms as tight as your could on the ground as if he was your own brother while Eleven and that. . . thing both died.

You remembered his tears and how he clutched onto your shirt in that seventh grade science class classroom, his heat against your chest while you tried to soothe him. You remembered how Dustin and Lucas came to you for comfort as well.

“Year of birth?”

“2004.” You relayed blankly. The sounds of Mike’s muffled sobbing echoing around in her head while you sat in front of the government official.

“Home residence?”

“425 Culpepper Lane, Weehawken, New Jersey.” The voice that you’d heard while running with Eleven in your arms also still echoing.

‘Today is just another day of trying to get by without her.’

It was your brother’s voice. But not as high pitched, or squeaky.

He asked your age. “Fifteen.” Was your response, looking down at your hands, where Eleven’s dried blood was smeared over your palm when you wiped it away from her nose. It was caked into your skin.

“Alright Miss Byers, correct me on anything I might have wrong. Y/n Byers L/n born 2004 aged fifteen, raised at the address of 425 Culpepper Lane in Weehawken, New Jersey?” You nodded a bit and looked back up at him,

“Biological daughter of William Byers?” He asked. once again, you nodded.

“Alright, Miss Byers, we need to go over a few more things.” He told you, taking out a large file and placing it on the table in front of you.

“LIke?”

“How your new life will look. Unfortunately, we can’t get you back home to your time, we’ll help you build a new life here. We’ll give you a birth certificate, emancipation papers, and we’ll give you a monthly stipend for however much minimum wage is where you’re from.” He told you, taking out a calculator from the folder, ready to calculate how much you’d be getting from them. “How much is it per hour?”

“Like, ten dollars.” You shrugged a bit. Now not only trying to process the sobbing and tears that had stained your shirt and the girl who had disappeared before your eyes, probably dead, but now you had to process that the government was going to try and buy your silence.

“Ten dollars?” He questioned, looking up at you from the calculator. “That’s outrageous!”

You tilted your head a bit, brows furrowed and jaw clenched. “Yeah, out of everything about my life so far, the most outrageous thing is the minimum wage in New Jersey as of late 2019. Inflation’s a bit of a bitch, isn’t it?”

The man’s pale skin went flush, as if he just remembered who he was talking to. That you weren’t just an adult he was negotiating with, but that you were a fifteen year old girl who wouldn’t see the world like you knew it for another 36 years, where, biological, you’d be a fifty-one year old woman who lived her entire life in the past, instead of the fifteen year old girl who had her entire future in front of her.

“I apologize. . .” He spoke, typing into the device and then taking out a check book and uncapping his fountain pen, writing down on the small rectangular paper. Ripping it off, he handed it to you.

You just stared at the check for a moment before reluctantly taking it from him. Holding

it between your thumb and index finger, staring down at the beige paper without much thought, your vision not focused on anything in particular on the sheet.

“We’ll have you moved into an apartment by the end of next week, and pay for rent for the first few months. We’ll give you a budget for furniture,-”

You began to zone him out, going back to a few hours prior. How when Eleven threw Mike back he landed against the cabinets. You were by his side in an instant, holding him while everyone watched in shock as Eleven sacrificed herself.

Even twenty minutes after it was all over, you still held him on the linoleum floor listening to his crying while he held onto you for dear life. To him, you were a stranger, yet he trusted you enough to cry in your arms. A twelve year old version of your Uncle Mike, who you knew well. But you barely knew this boy. He was just a kid. He wasn’t the man guy you knew as your Uncle Mike yet. He was just a scared and sad kid.

“Miss. Byers.”

You looked up snapped out of your train of thought, meeting the ice blue eyes that the men held. “You’ll be going by Y/n L/n, only. Byers is no longer your name. And you have to stay quiet about all this. We’ll talking to Mr. Sinclair, Henderson, and Wheeler, as well as Mrs. Byers and her son. We’ll speak with the chief as well as Miss Wheeler. No one can know you’re from the future. Or anything that’s happened due to Hawkins lab. We need you to sign this NDA. You can never speak about this again. Is that understood?” His question was assertive as he put the fountain pen in your hand.

“Okay.” It was a whisper, but he understood it while you signed the papers, handing them back to him.

“You and the Byers boy will come to the lab periodically to get checked up, mentally and physically-”

“Excuse me?” You questioned, tilting your head a bit.

He cleared his throat, “You and William were in that place for extended periods of time. And we’re concerned about your health. The atmosphere there was toxic. We’re afraid that it could affect your long term health. Especially yours. How long were you there exactly.”

“A while.” You started recounting the amount of times the hands on your watch went by. “A month? Maybe?”

His face shifted as he stared at you, before writing something down on his paper. You could remember how many times you’d counted after the Demogorgon busted its way out of the wall in the middle school. You could remember plenty about it now. How you’d take a few sips of water from your water bottle to make sure you were at least a bit hydrated, but you were conserving it.

You’d always retained a bit of your baby fat from being an infant, but you’d crawled out of that place without any of it, and your baby face was practically gone. Cheeks a bit sunken in, barely noticeable, but you’d noticed it. You’d also noticed how you could see the bump where your ribcage ended without having to stretch up. You didn’t look like you. You didn’t look like the little girl who ran around the house while either your pa or dad chased after you. You didn’t look like the kid who you’d seen in the mirror the morning you called yourself an expensive disappointment. Now you supposed you were an expensive missing disappointment.

“Alright Miss L/n. Send in Henderson when you leave.” He gestured to the door. It didn’t seem right, everything about it was slightly off as you stood from the chair, grabbing your bag and leaving the room into the brightly lit hospital hallway.

“Dustin.” You called to the waiting room, seeing the curly haired boy look up at you in curiosity before seeing you gesture to the door with your head. He got up and went in.

•••

You were sitting on the floor, your back against the wall and your walkman playing Queen at full volume. You needed it. It was the only thing keeping you sane while the boys were with Jonathan, Joyce and Will.

You’d sat with the boys before they were able to go back. Being the emotional support that the three needed. Even if their parents were there, they’d never understand what the boys went through. You did, and you’d be there for them as best as you could.

But the moment they left, and Nancy and her mother had gone to get something to eat, you’d gotten up and went over to the vending machine, which refused to work. So you’d opted for the ridiculous look of having your walkman clipped to the collar of your hoodie, hair a mess and dark bags under your eyes, a scowl on your face.

Eyes closed you just listened to Freddie Mercury’s voice, your foot tapping to the guitar rift. And even though you were completely absorbed into your music, you weren’t oblivious the feeling of someone standing next to you before sitting down.

Opening your eyes you turned your head to see Steve sitting next to you. His face bruised and a few cuts from how harshly Jonathan had punched him. But you were pretty sure the small one by the crease of his nostril was from you.

You pulled the headset off of you ears and stared at him while he said nothing, the music now being heard by both of you.

“I’m a giant prick, huh?” It made you smile a bit, tilting your head in confusion as he turned his head to look at you, eyes soft. “I mean- I fucked up. I over reacted over Jonathan and Nancy, I’m. . . I’m sorry that I was mean to you.”

You shrugged a bit, keeping quiet which left him confused. You always had something to say to him, always was quick to playfully insult him, or give a come back, you usually said something witty to keep up the banter and conversations.

“Y/n, you gotta give me something to work with, I don’t know how to talk to you right now. You look like you want to equally cry and punch me again.”

“I don’t wanna punch you.” You finally said, turning your head back to where the wall and ceiling met in front of you. “Just a bad day overall. I mean, i go to very early this morning, like two am, and then Jonathan had the fucking audacity to wake me up at seven. And then you and your shit-stirrer friends pissed me off, I bruised my hand.” He said, lifting up the fist you’d used to punch him, maybe a bit too hard. “Got arrested, only ate two donuts in the morning, then I. . . deal with a lot of mind-fucking bullshit, then I filled a kiddie pool with salt. Fucking salt. It wasn’t even really a kiddie, it was giant. And then! Oh and then, I ate a fucking can of choclate pudding! I hate pudding! I was just hungry! And then I held a twelve year old in my arms in a empty science class while he cried.”

Steve stared at you, seeing the stress that had been put on your shoulders throughout the entire day. He didn’t know what to say. What was there to be said? You were trying to cope with something, and he couldn’t see what it was.

“Yeah, that. . . sucks.” Was all he could say but it got a frustrated and annoyed groan out of you.

“Yikes! Just say yikes! Or if it’s really bad ‘big yikes!’” You’d said it so many times back to back that it didn’t sound like a real word to you.

But Steve found it interesting while he stared at you, examining the way the hoodie fell around your silhouette, and the ridiculous way you had your walkman clipped right under your neck. The pink medal being a very stark contrast to what you were wearing

“Yikes.” He repeated with a smile.

A brief grin came across your face as he said it.

“So, we’re still friends?” He asked, sitting up straight and turning his whole body to face you, his legs crossed like a kindergartener on the class carpet, in his own colored square.

“We were friends before?” You asked teasingly, doing the same to face him, and like you were as a kindergartener, sticking a leg out. Which always got you into trouble.

“Shut up.”

“Y/n!”

Turning your head you saw Jonathan coming down the hall, A piece of stained paper in hand as he came over. You didn’t miss the way that both Steve and Jonathan glanced at each other, though.

“Jona-”

“Here. I think you’ll want to see this.” He told you, holding out the folded piece of paper out to you, which you hesitantly took as Steve picked up on the cue to leave

“I’ll uh, I’ll talk to you later?” You nodded as a response, watching as Steve stood up and went back to the opened waiting area while Jonathan squatted down next to you as you unfolded the paper only to be met with a photo of your own face. The word ‘missing’ right above it in all capital letters, your name, age, and facial description on it, as well as what you’d been wearing when you’d ran off that night. The date of your birth, and the date of that night.

“Mom said she found it in there.” Jonathan informed you while you kept examining the photo of yourself. Your hair pushed behind your ears, a smile on your face in a pale blue sweater around Christmas time.

“No. . .”

•••

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hysterialevi · 4 years

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His Name Was Isaac - Ch. 13

Fanfic summary: During a mission to avenge his mother’s death, Isaac hunts down the men responsible for her murder and kills them off one-by-one, only to discover that his last target is taking refuge among the Van der Linde gang. In an attempt to kill them, Isaac attacks the gang and unknowingly becomes enemies with his own father, who is in the process of fighting his own battle for redemption.

Point of view: third-person

Previous chapter | Next chapter

This story is also on AO3

THE NEXT MORNING

PINKERTON HQ, BLACKWATER

Gazing out a nearby window, Agent Fordham casually watched the streets of Blackwater as men and women paced around all over the place, traveling from one end of the city to another.

Business carried on as usual in the small town, and despite the damage Dutch’s men caused to the bank during the robbery, everything else seemed to functioning just fine.

The only thing that was missing from the bustling sight... was Arthur Morgan himself.

It had only been a couple of days since Agent Ross proposed his deal to that man, but they had yet to see any sign of the outlaw ever since then. The other Pinkertons patrolling The Great Plains reported no visuals of Mr. Morgan in the area, and his son was apparently nowhere to be found either.

Fordham liked to believe that they were still considering the decision and would show up at their headquarters eventually, but the pessimistic side of him knew better.

Arthur had no reason to trust the Pinkertons. Milton didn’t exactly make the best impression on Dutch all those years ago, so Fordham supposed it only made sense that Arthur would put as much distance between himself and Blackwater as possible... but he had hoped that the man would give Isaac a chance by turning himself in.

That boy was hardly a man yet, and he had already been thrown into the unforgiving world of outlaws. If there was any way to avoid killing him needlessly, Fordham was willing to take it.

Unfortunately, he doubted Ross felt the same.

“You think Mr. Morgan will accept our deal?” Fordham asked Edgar, glancing away from the window.

Ross leaned back in his desk’s chair and stuck a pipe between his lips, speaking through clenched teeth while he held the object in place.

“Unlikely,” he replied, bringing a flame to the pipe’s tip. “That man’s about as stubborn as Dutch van der Linde himself. Trust me, I’ve known him for many years now. It was pointless to attempt a deal with him. We should’ve arrested him and his son when we had the chance.”

Fordham hesitated, trying to remain as professional as possible. “But... don’t you think it’s worth a try? Saving his son, I mean. If Arthur accepts our deal, Isaac will perhaps have a chance to live like civilized folk. And carry on with his future.”

Edgar blew out a puff of smoke, exhaling deeply as he extinguished the match with a quick wave.

“Our focus is to protect law-abiding citizens, Archer.” He said in a bored tone. “When it comes to criminals or savages, we do not concern ourselves with their personal lives or well-being. All that matters is bringing them to justice. Of course, how we handle the situation depends on how they behave, but ultimately -- their future is not our concern. Their end is.”

Archer was reluctant to agree. “I understand, but in the end, criminals are still humans. Not all of them break the law for the same reason. In some cases, it’s greed. In others, power. But in Isaac’s case, it’s survival. You’ve read the files. He was forced into this life with no way out. Wouldn’t you say that someone at his age deserves to make a real life for himself?”

Still, Edgar’s mind remained unswayed. “It is not my place to decide, Archer. Nor is it yours. I’m only going along with your deal for now because I want to help you. But in the end, the final decision resides with the judge. If Arthur and Isaac put themselves in a position where they must be killed, then the only thing we need to worry about is pulling the trigger fast enough. Though, of course, obtaining them alive would be ideal.”

Fordham turned back to the window, trying to conceal the begrudging expression on his face.

“...I understand, sir.”

“Good.” Edgar said simply, standing up from the chair. “Then I trust that the next time we see Arthur or his son, you will not hesitate to bring them in?”

Archer shook his head staunchly. “No, sir. Of course not.”

The other agent nodded in approval. “Good. We have far too many issues to worry about already when it comes to the savages of this country. The last thing we need is complications within civilization itself. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Agent Fordham...”

Ross grabbed his coat and headed for the office’s door, leaving Archer to his own devices.

“...I’ve got something to attend to.”

~~~~~~~~~~

MEANWHILE

THE GENERAL STORE, VALENTINE

Handing money over to the shopkeeper, Arthur stuffed some of the new provisions he’d just purchased into his satchel and began making his way for the shop’s exit, throwing a quick wave behind him before he took his leave.

“Thanks, mister.”

The shopkeeper gave him a polite nod. “Y’have a good day now, sir.”

Pushing the door open, Arthur stepped back outside into the muddy streets of Valentine as a chain of horses and wagons lazily rolled past him, their drivers still in the process of waking up.

It was chilly this morning, or at least chillier than the one before, and thanks to the bleak clouds veiling the sky, the sun was barely able to break through.

Arthur didn’t much like being this close to civilization, but he figured it’d be a good idea to grab some more food and winter clothing before heading up to Ambarino.

He sure hadn’t forgotten how cold it was in that region, and part of him wished they would never have to return there, but if there was any place in this country that would prevent the Pinkertons from tracking them, Arthur was willing to bet it’d be in the mountains.

The only thing that really worried him now, was Dutch. That man may not have been strong enough to survive the snow, but he was definitely crazy enough to try.

And that alone was enough to frighten Arthur.

“Hey, mister!” A voice suddenly called out, leading the man to glance to his side. “Over here!”

Standing next to the building, Arthur spotted an elderly man occupying the alleyway between the general goods store and the saloon, and it looked like his eyes were pinned on him at the moment. His hair was frazzled, his face was covered in dirt, and his ragged shirt almost resembled an old Union uniform.

As for his sleeves, one of them had been folded in half due to the amputated limb, and...

Wait a second.

Arthur narrowed his eyes in recognition.

“...Mickey? Is that you?”

The older man’s eyes twinkled upon hearing his name. “So you do remember me! Oh, I certainly remember you, mister. Your name’s Arthur, isn’t it? Like the king.”

Arthur nodded. “Yep.”

Mickey smiled warmly. “Oh, well... it’s good to see you again, friend. You was always kind to me. I remember. Everyone else in this town ignored me -- and they still do -- but you was always willing to lend an ear. I never forgot you.” He paused for a moment. “Hey, mister. I spoke with your son, y’know.”

That caught the outlaw’s attention. “You met Isaac?”

“Yeah,” the veteran replied. “I thought he was you. He looks just like you did, all them years ago. Though, he’s a bit angrier, I think. Not as nice as you was.”

Arthur sighed apologetically. “...Sorry ‘bout that. The boy’s been... goin’ through some things lately.”

Surprisingly, Mickey didn’t seem offended. “Oh no, it’s fine, mister. Your son might be angry, but I’ve seen that type of anger before. In the war, men would always get angry when they was hurt. They would end up hurting others. I think Isaac’s the same. He looks... sad. Just like you.”

The outlaw didn’t entirely know what to make of that. “Does he.”

“Yeah. I asked him why, but he didn’t say much. Just told me that you was dying.”

Arthur shook his head. “I already told him, I ain’t--” a short cough interrupted him. “--I ain’t... dying.”

Mickey gazed at him with concern. “You sure, buddy? Your boy’s right. You don’t look so good.”

The other man cleared his throat. “Well... I dunno. But I ain’t dead yet, and that’s all that matters.”

“But you will die.”

Arthur shrugged despondently. “Everyone dies.”

“Sure,” Mickey agreed, “but it still hurts. No one likes losing things. Things that they love. And your son, well... he don’t wanna lose you. Especially since he already lost his ma.”

Arthur cocked a brow at him. “You know about her?”

“The boy only told me a bit, but he said she died when he was real little. He couldn’t save her. And now, you’re dying, too. And he can’t save you either.”

The outlaw let out a breath. “But why take his anger out on me? Or you? It ain’t like I asked for this.”

“I don’t know.” Micky answered truthfully. “But I think you should talk with your son. I always feel better when I talk to people. Maybe you will, too.”

Arthur thought about it for a moment, eventually agreeing with the man.

“Yeah... I think he and I need to have a few words.”

The veteran seemed pleased with that. “Well, I wish you luck.”

“D’you know where he is?”

Mickey pointed to the saloon. “Yeah, I saw him head behind the saloon. He’s havin’ a drink there, I think.”

Arthur followed the man’s gaze. “What, at this hour?” He let out a sigh. “I guess I’ll go find him.”

The veteran said one last thing to Arthur, stopping the outlaw in his tracks just before he could leave.

“Hey, mister! Could you spare a dollar?”

Arthur nodded, reaching into his satchel. “Sure.”

Mickey gave him an appreciative look. “Thanks, friend. You take care of yourself now. We need more folks like you around here.”

The outlaw laughed at that, waving goodbye. “Oh, I ain’t too sure about that.”

Strolling away from the homeless veteran, Arthur wandered down the narrow alleyway and to the back of the saloon, right next to where the barber’s door was.

Sure enough, he found Isaac sitting on a barrel with a beer bottle in his hand, and it looked like Aldo was standing quietly beside him.

The young man didn’t look so good at the moment. His head was lowered in sorrow, and his shoulders slouched in discouragement. His eyes seemed to be glued on the ground in front of him, and if he noticed Arthur’s presence, he didn’t acknowledge it.

Something was definitely wrong. Arthur just wished the man would tell him what.

“Isaac?” He called out, walking up to him. “Whatcha doin’ out here?”

The boy remained seated, not even bothering to shift his gaze. “Just wanted to get away from everyone.”

Arthur glanced through the saloon’s windows, raising a brow at the incredible lack of customers.

“...There’s three people in there, Isaac. Bartender and barber included.”

Isaac sighed in annoyance. “Look, I just needed to be alone, okay?”

The outlaw chuckled softly, though not in a mocking manner. He stepped next to the young man and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms in a casual fashion.

“Listen, son... I spoke to Mickey.”

Isaac lifted his head in confusion. “...Who?”

“The homeless Union vet.” He explained.

“Oh, is that his name? Yeah, I spoke with him, too.”

“So I’ve been told.” Arthur fell silent for a second, taking on a more serious tone. “...He says you think I’m dying.”

Isaac took a swig of his drink. “I ain’t a child no more, Dad. I don’t think you’re dying. I know you are. That much is obvious.”

Arthur felt another series of coughs tickling his throat, but did his best to hold it back for now.

“Well, even if that’s true, I ain’t dead yet, Isaac. I’m still here. So let’s save the eulogies for when I’m actually gone.”

“...You say that like it’s so easy.”

Isaac finished the rest of his beer and set the bottle down with some force, clearly upset.

“Don’t you get it? Apart from mom, you’re the only person I’ve had in my life that I could actually trust. After she died, everyone else I met always wanted to kill me, or use me in some way. Even Shay. He never raised me for my sake. He only did it so he’d have another gun to order around. I guess...” he trailed off for a second, his voice becoming much softer, “...I guess I just got used to being alone. It was the only choice I had. There was no one else I could depend on.”

He turned to look at Arthur. “Now that I’ve met you though, I can do it again. And... it feels good, y’know. To be able to trust someone. To have someone that... you love.”

Isaac returned to his irritated nature, hopping off the barrel. “But now you’re sick. And dying. And I’m gonna be left alone. Again.”

The boy began to walk off, causing Arthur to pace after him.

“I understand that, Isaac, but it ain’t like I chose this. You think I wanted to get sick?”

Isaac rested a hand on Aldo’s saddle, letting out a deep sigh.

“No. I... I don’t. I know you didn’t. I’m just...” he took a breath, struggling to get the right words out, “...I wish things was different, alright? I wish I could help you. I wish... you were okay.”

Arthur put a hand on Isaac’s shoulder, trying to reassure the boy.

“I know, kiddo. I do, too. But the truth is... we can’t always control life. Sometimes, life kicks us in the ass and expects us to cope whether we’re ready for it or not. And we can’t control it when that happens. But what we can control, is how we deal with it.”

Arthur stepped closer to Isaac, looking him in the eye. “Listen, it’s clear to both of us that I ain’t got much time left in this world. Whether that means I have three months or three years, I don’t know. But I ain’t gonna be around forever. Unlike what happened with Eliza though, we’re prepared this time. We have the luxury of knowin’ what to expect. So we can kick and scream at the world for being unfair, or we can make use of the time we have left together.”

He paused, glancing down at the ground. “This is the only chance we’ll get to make things right, Isaac. Let’s not waste it.”

Taking in everything Arthur just said, Isaac responded with nothing but a profound silence and gazed blankly at the distant horizon, his eyes carrying a heavy sense of exhaustion within them.

It was difficult for Arthur, watching his son go through this. No parent alive wanted to tell their own child that they were dying, but Arthur learned long ago that it was impossible to live a bad life and expect good things to happen.

He wished he could be there to see Isaac grow into an old man or start a family of his own, but this was the reality they had to deal with.

Arthur’s sins were finally catching up to him, and Isaac was going to pay the price.

“...Hey, Dad.” The young man said, getting his father’s attention.

Arthur threw him a curious look. “Yeah?”

Isaac’s brow furrowed in guilt. “I’m... sorry for what I said yesterday. I know I was pretty harsh.”

The older man wasn’t too bothered by it. If anything, part of him felt bad for snapping at the kid after he expressed his frustration.

“Harsh? Yes. Wrong? Well, not entirely.”

Isaac looked down in shame. “No, I was wrong. You may not’ve been there much when I was a kid, but I know you wanted to be. The truth is... I didn’t mean a goddamn word of what I said. I don’t wanna be anything like Micah. Or Dutch. Or Shay. I wanna be like you.”

Arthur shook his head in disagreement.

“No, Isaac. You don’t. When this is all over... you’re gonna be your own man. A better man.”

The boy seemed lost. “But how am I gonna do that?”

Arthur smirked warmly. “Well, that’s the beauty of it. It’s entirely up to you.”

Leaving Isaac to his thoughts, the older man patted him on the shoulder and beckoned the kid to follow him into the street, eager to get a head start on their journey to Ambarino.

Despite being somewhat conflicted about their future, Arthur suspected the young man felt slightly better now. He still carried that same gloomy look in his eye as before, but his demeanor didn’t appear as solemn anymore.

He seemed... different. Hopeful. A little sad perhaps, but unwilling to give up.

There was a newfound sense of determination in his step, and even though Arthur could clearly see that Isaac was still hurting over his father’s illness, he knew that the young man would pull through.

He was strong. Much stronger than he realized. Arthur just wished Isaac would put that strength to good use.

He seemed to have a habit of getting lost in the past. Everything he did revolved around his desire for revenge, and Arthur could only hope that once his time came, Isaac wouldn’t live the rest of his life trying to avenge his death.

There was so much more in the world that he could experience. So much for him to do.

Arthur’s only wish now, was that he’d be able to make Isaac see that.

~~~~~~~~~~

A FEW HOURS LATER

THE VAN DER LINDE CAMP

“...Goddamn. You are one, ugly bastard.” Bill murmured, observing the fresh wounds on Micah’s face. The man had just woken up from his beating and was currently sitting under a makeshift tent, attempting to get a better look at his injuries.

“Well, I wouldn’t be if you’d have gotten to me sooner. Where the hell was you when Joe and I was doin’ all the work?”

Bill defended himself. “Hey, I was keepin’ a lookout! Just like you fellas told me to. Don’t act like I wasn’t doin’ my job.”

Micah chuckled sarcastically, glowering at the other man. “Well, you wasn’t. Couldn’t even see Arthur ridin’ towards us at full speed. You only came runnin’ after Joe was shot. I dunno if you’re aware of this, Marion, but the whole point of a goddamn lookout is to make sure that doesn’t happen!”

Bill lurched forward out of anger. “Hey, don’t call me that!”

The one-eyed man didn’t back down. “Oh, sorry. Would you prefer ‘moron?’ It’d be more fitting, anyhow.”

Bill pointed a finger at Micah, only to end up clenching it into a fist as he grumbled to himself in frustration.

“You... you don’t...” he waved a dismissive hand, walking away from the man. “Y’know what, forget it. Dutch can look after your goddamn wounds himself.”

Micah laughed, taunting Bill as he stormed off in the opposite direction. “Yeah, sure. Drink yourself into a stupor, why don’t you? Leave the real work to the big boys. Heheh.”

The other man shook his head in anger. “You’re a fool, Micah! A goddamn fool!”

Watching Bill retreat to the opposite end of the camp, Micah relaxed into his bedroll again and chortled lowly to himself, amused at Williamson’s annoyance.

He didn’t know how on Earth that man was still alive, considering how easily he got riled up. Most folks with a temper like that got shot at one point or another, and yet, Bill was still here. Keeping Dutch company even after Arthur, John, and Hosea were all gone.

Who would’ve thought?

Dragging himself over to the small, circular mirror by his tent, Micah slipped off the final bandage around his head and unveiled the nasty gash underneath, revealing a permanently closed eye.

Thanks to the laceration Isaac gave him the previous day, his top eyelid had been sealed shut, and a diagonal scar now carved its way through his brow.

Micah’s vision had been cut in half, and yet, the man only found himself feeling twice as eager to put Morgan’s brat into the ground.

Who the hell did that little boy think he was? Attacking their gang and killing off their members, and then trying to run away from it? No one just... attacked the Van der Linde gang and lived.

Micah had half a mind to give Isaac the same treatment Arthur gave him down at the river. That kid stole their money, ruined their supplies, and caused their gang to shrink to just three men. Two of which were utter fools.

The only problem he had now was actually finding the boy. Lord only knew how far he and Arthur had traveled by this point, and judging by the lack of updates from Dutch, Micah assumed their almighty leader wasn’t having any more luck with tracking Arthur down himself.

He’d have to think of an alternate method. A quicker method.

But most importantly, he’d need help.

“Micah!” Dutch called from behind, his reflection growing in the mirror as he approached the small tent. “You’re awake.”

“Hey, boss.” Micah greeted, turning to face Dutch. The other man paused upon seeing his new scar.

“...Arthur surely did a number on your eye, didn’t he?”

“It was Isaac who did it,” he corrected. “That boy’s young and stupid, but he knows how to use a knife.”

Dutch sighed worriedly. “Oh, he knows how to do much more than that, I’m afraid.” A strong cough escaped him, causing him to spit on the grass before wiping his mouth. “I spoke with Bill. He says Arthur killed Joe.”

“Yeah. His body flowed downstream.”

“Well, we don’t have the time to retrieve him. Let alone bury him. Right now, the three of us need to focus on findin’ Arthur, and puttin’ him down for good. Problem is, he ain’t alone.”

Micah held up a thoughtful finger, standing up from his bedroll. “Well, y’know, Dutch, before Bill tried to play mother hen with me earlier... I was thinking. We all know Arthur’s big and bad, but no matter how strong that man is, he’s bound to have a weakness. A soft spot where we can hit him real hard, and hurt him real good.”

Dutch had a feeling he already knew what that weakness was. “Go on.”

Micah continued with his explanation, slowly pacing back and forth in front of his tent. “The boy, Dutch. You’ve seen how much he means to Arthur. Hell, he was willin’ to bail on you for the kid. That’s gotta mean something.”

The other man placed a foot on a nearby stump, resting his elbows on his knees. “So, what? You sayin’ we should kill Isaac first?”

“No, Dutch. Don’t you see?” Micah strolled up to the man, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We don’t need to kill Arthur at all. The only thing we gotta do is put a good ol’ fashioned bullet through Isaac’s skull, and the rest will handle itself. You’ll have your revenge, and we’ll have one less problem to worry about.”

Unsurprisingly, Dutch didn’t seem to fully approve of the plan.

“I don’t know, Micah. I...” his voice tugged with heartache, “...I hate Arthur... for what he did to me. And I want nothin’ more than to make him pay for it. But the pain of losing a child...” Dutch gazed downward, “there ain’t nothing that can compare to it. Even a traitorous bastard like Arthur doesn’t deserve that.”

Still, Micah persisted. “Why? What does Isaac mean to you for you to spare him?”

Dutch brushed his hand off. “It ain’t about Isaac. It’s about Arthur. You know the history between us. How much we’ve been through. How long we’ve known each other.”

Micah raised his hands in a diplomatic manner. “Of course, Dutch. Of course. But... let me put it this way.” He leaned closer to the older man. “...Arthur’s your son. I mean, he may as well be. You raised him ever since he was a boy. You taught him to read, you taught him to shoot. You’re his father, Dutch. And yet, despite all that effort to keep him safe, and to keep him alive... he still left you when you needed him most. He left you alone.”

Dutch listened intently, causing Micah to reel in the line now that he had him hooked.

“So, I says we go find Isaac, kill him, and leave Arthur alone. He’ll share the same pain you felt, and he’ll know what it means to turn on our gang. Just like you wanted.”

The man let out a sharp sigh. “That ain’t happening.”

“Well, at least consider it. It ain’t just about the sentiment, after all, Dutch. There’s also the, uh... strategic aspect of it, if you will. So long as Isaac lives, we’re gonna have a helluva time tryin’ to reach Arthur. That boy’s a menace, and he’s nearly as rage-driven as you. He’s got to go.”

Dutch rubbed his chin in thought, appalled by the idea of taking Arthur’s child away from him, but admittedly conceding Micah’s point.

“I will... think about what you’ve said.”

Micah appeared pleased with that. “Thank you, Dutch. That’s all I ask.” He began to stroll away from him. “Trust me, boss... this is all for the good of the gang.”

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #isaac morgan #dutch van der linde #micah bell #bill williamson #edgar ross #archer fordham #rdr2 story #rdr2 fanfic

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talatomaz · 4 years

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i’m home | maggie sawyer x sawyer!reader x lena luthor

a/n: i’ve been rewatching supergirl and i love maggie and lena so much (this is super long so sorry in advance)

this is based during s2/s3 so lena is 23, maggie is in her late 20s and reader is 20/21 so when maggie was kicked out of her house at 14, r was 5/6

warnings: mentions of torture, abuse, scars

word count: 4.7k

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A home is where you feel comfortable.

A home is where you’re able to share your deepest thoughts and feelings.

A home is where you’re supposed to feel safe.

A home was something you never had.

You thrashed in your captors’ hold. Their hands were firmly gripped on your arms, holding you in place as they dragged you back to that room. You shuddered at the thought of it. It was barely a room. More like a dungeon filled to the brim of weapons used to torture the inhabitant.

Your hands were bound behind your back. Now had it been rope or even cable ties, you would have been able to free yourself. But because of your nature, they had placed metal cuffs around your wrists, preventing you from escaping.

When you reached the room, they placed you on the metal table and bound your legs to the table and then removed the cuffs from your wrists and repeated the movement. Now chained to the table, they pressed a button at the side of the table which you knew would help prevent you from escaping.

The two men then moved to either side of the door and turned to face the woman who entered.

“Well, if it isn’t my favourite experiment.”

You gave her a cold look and remained silent.

“Quiet today? Don’t worry. Soon we’ll have you screaming.” She chuckled.

She then turned swiftly to the door where another man stood, “We’ve got a problem in cell B.”

She inaudibly whispered something to the man who nodded and left before turning back to face you.

“I’ve got something to take of but don’t worry, I’ll be back.” She then told the two men to stand guard and keep an eye on you.

When she left, you rested your head against the cold metal and then jumped at the sound of shouts.

This was it. It was time.

You looked over at the men who had their backs to you and then closed your eyes and concentrated. Immediately, a key appeared in the lock of your cuffs. You twisted your hand so you could turn the key and free your wrist. Then you did the same to the other as the men in front of you were none-the-wiser. Once freeing your arms, you pressed the button and suddenly felt the rush of your energy coursing through your body.

The power barrier was broken.

You quickly removed the cuffs around your ankles and jumped off the table. At the sound, the two men turned and, after their moment of shock at seeing you liberated, they ran towards you. As much fun as it would have been to fight them, you didn’t have time so you teleported away to another part of the warehouse building you were in.

You found the room you were looking for and teleported in and held the man sitting at the desk in a chokehold before he lost consciousness and slumped against his chair. You began typing on the computer and with a few clicks, you heard numerous buzzes and couldn’t help but smile.

Everyone was free.

When you were about to leave, something in the corner caught your eye and upon realising what it was, you pocketed it and teleported outside the building. What you saw brought another smile to your face. Everyone was running out of the building, using their abilities to overpower the guards. You roamed the crowd and then locked eyes with her.

You ran to an isolated area and waited for her to follow. Low and behold, out from the shadows she came, alongside two of her goons.

“Now, now, back down Miss Sawyer. You know you’re no match for us.”

“On the contrary, it appears you are no match for me.” You brought the small device, that you took earlier, into view and channeled your powers through it.

Grinning at the woman’s face dropping, you spoke, “Goodbye, Lillian Luthor.” You pressed the button and teleported away.

***

Opening your eyes, you were stunned at your surroundings.

You were stood next to a modernised coffee house called CCJitters. You entered and the noise of numerous conversations filled your ears. You chose a high table and sat down, sneakily listening to the two people sat at the table beside you.

“Cisco, I don’t wanna hear it. You and your meta-human names are driving me crazy.” A brunette said, shaking her head.

“But Cait, it’s a good one. Please.” A long-haired man replied.

“No, Cisco. Tell Barry or HR. I don’t wanna know.” She said, stifling a laugh at the man’s sad face.

“Excuse me,” you interrupted the duo.

“Hi.” The brunette smiled so you did the same.

“I was just wondering, where exactly am I? I just got off the train and I actually have no idea where I am.”

“Oh, you’re in Central City.” The woman replied.

“Yep, home to the Flash.” The man named Cisco added.

At the mention of the metahuman, your eyes widened as you forced to keep the shock from showing your face.

Shit. Forget being in the wrong town. You were on the wrong Earth.

“Thank you. Bye.” You got out of your seat and ran out of the coffee shop and into an alley.

How on Earth did you get here?

You’d heard of the Flash because he had appeared in National City a year ago and you’d overheard Lillian’s curiosity about the man from a different earth.

It was one of the reasons why she initially kidnapped you.

You had been studying Everett’s many-worlds theory at National City University, trying to create a device allowing you to explore different universes. Lillian wanted to adapt your device so she could travel in time and prevent aliens from arriving on Earth.

You took out the device and sighed, you needed a big power surge in order to get back to your earth. Meaning you were stuck here for the time being. Great.

You began to wander around the city when you encountered a news stand. Picking up a science magazine, you flicked through it and then paused when an announcement caught your attention.

“Attend the grand re-opening of the infamous Star Labs.” You murmured to yourself as you skimmed through the article and learned about the particle accelerator explosion that caused normal humans to gain powers and become meta-humans.

This place would definitely contain enough power for you to get home. Closing the magazine, you placed it back on the stand and set off towards Star Labs.

You quickly joined a crowd of people and entered the building. You looked around, taking in your surroundings. It was a large infrastructure, renovated to look like a museum of sorts. You continued walking with the group before noticing a blocked off section. You headed towards there and then teleported inside. You found yourself in a lab that was filled with computers and numerous amounts of high tech equipment.

But what caught your eye was the black box situated at the centre of the table.

Opening it, you gasped at its contents. Inside was a sleek black mask that, whilst simple, had a certain panache to it. You removed it from the box and placed it on yourself. Looking in the reflection of the metal table, you smiled.

It did well to hide your identity.

“What are you doing in here?”

You stilled, turning around to find yourself face to face with a, fashionably dressed, woman. She pressed her finger to her ear and spoke, “It’s Iris, we may have a problem here, Flash.”

In the blink of an eye, the latter appeared, staring at you.

“Who are you?” The man spoke.

Without responding, you teleported away and ended up in an open space area. Around you were more computers and what looked to be, an area where the Flash trained.

You heard the footsteps behind you and saw the woman named Iris, the Flash and the duo from the coffee shop.

“Hey, that’s my mask.” Cisco shouted. “It looks good.” He then added making you smirk.

You took out the device you had created and felt your powers surge through it.

“I really am sorry but I have to get back to my Earth.” Pressing the device, you disappeared.

“What on Earth? Who the hell was she?” Iris exclaimed.

“Yeah, and where’d she go?” Caitlin added.

“I may be able to find out.” Running up to a computer, Cisco began typing.

“I had a tracker implanted in that mask. Okay, so it looks like our mystery woman is from...Earth 38. Home to Supergirl.”

“Where is she now, Cisco?” Barry asked.

“The tracker was only designed to be able to locate the wearer on this earth. I’m lucky I was even able to track her to Earth 38, Barry.”

“Get me Supergirl, Cisco.”

Bringing up a screen, Cisco was able to connect to the DEO where Supergirl stood.

“Kara, you’ve got a problem.”

***

Arriving back in National City, you felt a wave of relief. You were back.

“GET AWAY FROM ME!”

You turned and headed towards the sound of screams. Running into an alley, you stopped when you saw a black-haired woman backing away from a large man.

“Hey! Leave her alone!” You shouted at the assailant who turned and sneered at you.

“Oh yeah? Or what? You’re gonna stop me in that stupid mask?” He laughed.

You smirked and teleported behind him. “Behind you.”

When he turned, you kicked him and punched him so he was knocked out cold.

You looked behind you at the smartly dressed woman. “You’re welcome. Stay safe.” You winked before disappearing.

***

After saving the woman, you removed the mask and found your storage locker that you had before you were taken by Cadmus.

Opening it, you sighed. Everything was still there.

When you were at NCU, you had a lot successful projects, many of which were sold to the University and the money you got paid, you put into an offshore account which only you had access to.

Removing the laptop from the locker, you logged on and checked your account, happy to see that it was untouched. You then began searching for apartments to rent and upon finding one, you went to the landlord and paid 3 months rent in cash so she would give you the furbished apartment. You then locked the door and settled in for the night.

***

It went on like this for a while. You spent almost all day in your apartment, continuing your research. Then spent your nights helping people.

It wasn’t long before people began to whisper about the Aetheryte.

The woman with powers of teleportation.

And you also caught wind that Supergirl and her secret government agency were searching for you.

All it took was one alien.

One alien that allowed you to be caught.

One alien that changed your life forever.

You hadn’t even been out looking for trouble.

You were just walking through the streets, enjoying your Big Belly Burger fries when you heard the crash. Everyone’s attention immediately went to the large purple alien towering over the fiery car explosion.

You quickly donned your mask and ran toward the alien. You began helping people get away and clear the area so no one else was in the danger of getting hurt. You started to battle with the alien, using your powers to prevent yourself getting hurt. You had successfully knocked the alien out when you stilled at the sound of voices behind you.

“Stand down, Aetheryte!”

With hands up, you slowly turned and found yourself facing a trio of women. Supergirl, a short-haired woman who Lillian mentioned was Supergirl’s sister, also known as DEO Agent Danvers.

And finally...Maggie?

Your eyes narrowed and you felt the tears rush to your eyes, threatening to spill. No, how could it be? Last you heard, she was in Gotham. That was what your parents had said. Well, it’s not like anything that came out of their mouths was reliable.

You opened your mouth to say something but couldn’t form any words. You didn’t take notice as the two Danvers sisters walked closer to you, ready to restrain you if need be.

You were just focused on your sister.

You knew she didn’t recognise you.

How could she?

You were practically still a toddler when she left. It had been almost 15 years since you last saw her.

In person that was.

You had a photo in your wallet at all times which you later had framed in your apartment. It depicted you as a baby playing in Maggie’s lap who was around 12.

You didn’t even get to say goodbye when she had left. Your dad just ushered her into a car and drove her to your Aunt’s. You used to cry for her and slept in her bed every night until your parents...made you stop.

Blinking away your tears, you stared at the grown-up woman in front of you. Then, behind her, you saw the alien you fought come to and focus on Maggie.

Your eyes widened and you shouted, “Maggie, look out!”

Without hesitation, you teleported next to her and pushed her away resulting you in getting knocked to the ground by the alien. He was quickly restrained with power dampening cuffs and you groaned, your head laying against the gravelled floor.

Opening your eyes, you winced and saw Maggie kneeling above you. You felt her hands move to your face and gently hold onto your mask.

Removing the mask, she gasped and stumbled back. “Y/N?” She whispered.

“I’m sorry.” You said before teleporting away.

Maggie heard Alex and Kara running up to her.

“Maggie, what happened? Who was that?”

She could hear the concern in her fiancé’s voice but she was a state of shock.

How could you be here?

How were you the meta that she was chasing after?

“I-Her eyes. I didn’t recognise her at first. But her eyes. I know her eyes. How? I didn’t-”

“Maggie, you’re not making any sense.” Kara said gently.

“Aetheryte. Her real name is y/n. She’s my baby sister.”

***

You appeared in your living room and staggered towards your couch. You fell onto the couch and teleported a pack of frozen peas from the freezer into your hand, and with a wince, you placed it against your head. The cold began to soothe the pain when you were disturbed by a knock at the door.

You pushed yourself off the couch and made your way to the door. You opened it and were shocked at the person standing in your doorway.

It was the woman you had saved when you came back from Central City.

“What are you doing he-”

“Oh my god, what happened?”

The raven-haired woman ushered you inside to your couch where she knelt between your legs.

Lifting up your chin with her hand, she began assessing your wounds, “What happened? Are you okay?”

“I-Why-How are you here?”

“I have connections. Oh, I’m Lena Luthor, by the way.” She added as an afterthought.

“I know.” You laughed.

Everyone knew who the good Luthor was. She was the only Luthor any of National City’s residents liked.

“I’m y/n.”

“Nice to meet you but how do you know who I am?”

“First of all, you’re a Luthor. Second, you came up with my name. Nice touch, by the way, it’s very clever. The aether of crystals contain teleportational qualities.” You smirked.

“Thanks. So how did you get your powers?”

“Uh, well, it may come as a bit of shock. But, it was your Mum actually. She kidnapped me a couple of years ago. She wanted me to be a weapon for Cadmus and tried to adapt my research for her own purpose.”

“What?! God, I don’t even know what to say. I am so sorry. She is such an awful human being.”

“On that we can agree.”

You looked over Lena’s shoulder and saw the photo of you and Maggie smiling.

Abruptly standing up, you spoke, “I’m sorry, I have to do something.”

You teleported away, unwittingly leaving Lena hurt.

You appeared at the DEO and guns were immediately trained at you before they were lowered at Maggie’s command.

“Hi, sis.”

Maggie walked up to you and engulfed you in a hug, leaving you momentarily stunned before you hugged her back.

“Oh God, I’ve missed you so much.”

Maggie murmured and when she pulled away, you could see the tears in her eyes.

“Don’t cry because I’m gonna cry and my mascara’s gonna run and then I’m gonna look like a fool.”

Maggie laughed and hit you lightly, “I see you haven’t changed.”

“Why fix something that isn’t broke?” You winked and she laughed again.

You smiled softly, “I’ve missed you, Maggie.”

***

After unexpectedly arriving at the DEO, you went into a room with Maggie, Alex, Kara and Jonn where you could speak in private.

“How are you here? Where have you been?” Maggie asked, placing her hands on yours.

“Everywhere really.” You sighed,

“It was bad when you were kicked out, Mags. It was awkward. I hated Papi. And Mami too. Especially when they began trying to erase you from our lives. I cried for you every day. I slept in your bed. I even hated you. Before I found out the real reason for your absence, I thought you’d left me-”

“I’d never have left you. You know that, y/n.” Maggie said, cupping your cheek.

“I know that now. But, I was a kid. I mean, so were you. I’m just sorry all that happened to you. I was 16 when I found out what actually happened. I was arguing with Papi, and it just came out. After that, god, I never knew I could hate someone that much. That’s when I knew that I could never ever tell them my secret.”

“What secret?” Alex asked.

“That I was exactly like my sister.” You shrugged.

“I just bided my time until I graduated and then I came to NCU and studied. Hard. I was successful. And then life got in the way. Again.”

“What do you mean? How’d you get your powers, y/n?” Kara asked, now dressed in normal clothes.

You let out a breath, dreading their reaction. “I was kidnapped a few years ago and experimented on.”

“By who?” Maggie asked hardly.

Jonn answered for you when you remained silent, “Cadmus”.

Everyone fell silent as they stared at you in shock.

“Did they hurt you?” Maggie whispered, scared to hear the answer.

“Depends on who you mean by ‘they’.” You replied, failing to meet Maggie’s eyes because even 15 years later, she could still see right through you. After a few moments of silence, you gave Maggie’s hand a quick squeeze.

“I think I should go. I just need some time.” Before leaving, you pulled the photo out of your pocket.

“I managed to save one, Magpie.” You said, watching as Maggie softened at the mention of your nickname for her.

***

Once leaving the DEO, you figured you had some amends to make, considering the way you had left Lena so you found yourself outside her office at L-Corp.

Knocking at the door, you entered at the soft “come in”. When you came into view, Lena instantly shot up out of her chair, shocked to see you and you both moved to sit on her white couch.

“I just came here to apologise. I realised that the way I left probably hurt you. I had to go see someone.”

“Maggie, right?” You barely contained the look on your face.

“I saw the picture of you two at your apartment. And she’s a friend of mine. So you’re her sister, huh?”

“Yeah. I only came here to let you know that I don’t blame you for what happened to me. You’re not responsible for your mother’s actions, Lena.”

“Thank you. And thank you for telling me what happened. I hope everything went well with you and Maggie.” She said, resting her warm hand on your knee.

You were about to say something witty when you started to tear up, “God, everything’s such a mess. I never thought I’d escape Cadmus. But I did. And then I thought I’d never see Maggie again. And now she’s back in my life. And my mind is all over the place. I need to be okay for her. She’s been through too much. I can’t add all my baggage onto hers.”

Lena brought her arms around you, “Hey, it’s okay. It’s just overwhelming you and that’s okay. You have to accept your pain, y/n. If you hide it, it’ll just get worse, and before long, you’ll end up exploding, which isn’t something you want.”

“God, I’m sorry. I came here to reassure you and look at me,” you said, embarrassingly wiping your tears.

“You’re allowed to feel, y/n. Besides, if you want to make me feel better, let me take you out to dinner tonight. It’ll make me feel very reassured.” She winked, making you laugh through your tears.

“Okay, Lena. Let’s do it.”

Little did you know, that would be the start of something that would change your life for the better.

***

For the next seven months, you got to know Maggie better, catching up on the lost years. You all regularly met up and you participated in the Danvers’ game night. You even began training at the DEO but made sure your scars were covered up with makeup. That was something you weren’t ready to explain yet.

You also grew closer to Lena and it wasn’t long before Lena asked you to be her girlfriend. You guys decided to take it slow because of your collective baggage but that idea didn’t exactly take, considering you had asked Lena to move in with you after 4 months together which she immediately accepted.

Things were going well. That was until Lillian came back on the scene.

You were currently at the DEO, having just saved a family from a house fire, when you heard the incessant beeping on the screen.

“Supergirl, Aetheryte, there’s major radioactive material at...oh god, it’s L-Corp.”

Without hesitation, you immediately teleported to L-Corp and searched for your girlfriend. Upon finding her in her office, you pulled her in a tight hug. “Are you okay?”

“Better now that you’re here. What’s going on?” She asked as you both hurried to the lobby.

“Something about radioactive material. Kara’s on her way.” As if on cue, Kara appeared at the entrance, Maggie, Alex and a large group of DEO agents beside her.

You were all on edge, waiting for the threat to present itself. Then you stilled when you heard the familiar voice.

“Well, if it isn’t my favourite experiment.”

Your mind flashed back to the day you had escaped, it was the exact words she had uttered every time she saw you.

“Mother.” Lena spat out.

“Now, Lena. Enough with the attitude. How about you explain why you’re in cohorts with our very enemies? Forget it, no explanation needed. Just make your way over to me if you want to live.”

The former stayed put beside you causing Lillian to shake her head, “I expected better from you.”

Next thing you knew, there was a large explosion causing all of you to be flung back. You quickly brought Lena and Maggie back to their feet as Kara helped Alex.

“Quick on your feet, I see, y/n. Well, you better work fast if you wanna save the rest of the city. Statues don’t stand forever, you know. You too, Supergirl.” Then there was another explosion, but this time, it came from outside.

As everyone ran out to see, you remained in place, thinking about Lillian’s words.

“Y/N?” Maggie asked, concerned.

“I know what she’s going to do. The radioactivity Alex detected. That could easily have been because of a bomb...Wait. Shit. She’s going to blow up Supergirl’s statue.” You teleported to the statue despite your family’s shouts.

“That explosion could seriously injure her, Alex.” Maggie exclaimed.

“Forget the explosion. If that bomb goes off and she’s exposed to that level of radiation, she could die.” Lena said horrified.

You were able to locate the bomb in the statue and looked at the wires. This was just a puzzle. And all puzzles had solutions. Looking at the different colours of the wires, you began to disconnect them. Once doing so, you removed the radioactive material and rendered it useless. Then you gasped when you heard the soft click. It was a dead-man’s switch. Fuck.

Frantically, you looked around before seeing the body of water and rapidly teleported a large volume of it in a massive barrel and quickly submerged the bomb in the water.

You ran as fast as you could when you were thrown forward from the blast of the explosion. You fell harshly on the ground and felt yourself lose consciousness.

***

You groaned and stirred, then opened your eyes and groaned again at the bright lights.

Wait, where were you?

Your eyes shot open as you sat up and stared at the small group in front of you.

“Woah, y/n, you’re okay. You’re at the DEO.” Lena said quickly, trying to calm you down before you had a panic attack like you usually did when you woke up with a start.

“What the hell happened?” You said, wincing at the pain in your head.

“Well, you’re a complete and total idiot. You left us and went to find the bomb yourself. You successfully disarmed it but the secondary explosion caused you to knock your head, making you black out.” Maggie scolded.

“You’ll be okay. You just may have a concussion.” Alex explained, failing to hide her smirk at her fiancé’s outburst.

“Are you okay, y/n?” Kara asked.

“I’m not dead, so I’m fine.”

“I like how your standard is ‘not dead’. That’s good. Let’s keep it that way. ‘Not dead’ makes for a great bare minimum.” Jonn joked, making the rest of you laugh before they all fell silent again.

“What? What else happened?”

“Nothing. But...we saw your scars, y/n.” Kara said gently.

“Did my mother cause those?” Lena asked. She had only ever seen a few but you refused to answer any of her questions because it was a sore subject.

“Some. Not all. Cadmus used a lot of equipment. Cattle prods, knives. Things like that. It was how they tried to break us. Not me though. I guess I just had a higher tolerance for pain.” You shrugged, pushing the painful memories back down.

“What about the others?” Maggie asked.

Letting out a deep breath, you spoke, “Our parents weren’t good people, Mags. When you were gone, all the attention was on me. I had to be perfect. Any slip up would be punished.”

You continued speaking, “Did Papi ever tell you that story about how he used to get beat up by those group of kids when he was younger?” You waited until Maggie nodded in response.

“Let’s just say he took those skills on board. He called it teaching. I call it bullshit.”

The room fell silent once more and you looked up at Lena and Maggie who were on the verge of tears. Almost simultaneously, they both began apologising; Lena said she should have worked harder to stop her mother and Maggie said she should never have left you.

Cupping Lena’s cheek, you brought her in for a gentle kiss and felt her tears against your cheek. “You are not responsible for your mother’s actions. You are your own person. An exceptional person, might I add.”

Using your other hand, you brought Maggie’s head down so you could place a soft kiss on her forehead and then held her hand.

“I was a child and so were you, it’s not your fault. I don’t want you two blaming yourselves. I love you both so much.”

You opened your arms and they both wrapped their arms around your waist on either side of you, hugging you close.

“I’ll be okay. I’m home.”

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diary-of-deadweight · 4 years

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Could you please write an imagine where the reader is visiting Asgard with Thor, and that’s where she meets Loki? She is very intrigued by him or something, and starts liking him, but denies it? - requested by @netflixandchill06

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x reader

You didn’t know where you were exactly, one moment you were sitting within the library of stark tower reading catcher in the rye by the fireplace with the curtains drawn as the muffled sound of a clock ticking could be heard in the background as you were lost within the little paperbacked realm you held within your hands only to be flat on your ass upon a what looked to be a crystallised rainbow quartz bridge that appeared to correspond to physical contact by upping its brightness a tad.

Let’s not mention about the towering mass of constructed gold that sat a way aways from you, emulating an air of royalty and superiority as it shimmered and shined beneath the golden sun, casting its massive shadow over the remainder of the kingdom almost as if they were under constant observation by a corrupt king but you couldn’t overlook the beauty of it either; it was so surreal, so ethereal that you swore that if you tried to reach out, the whole fanciful mirage would fade away and you’d be back in the library once more.

“(Y/n) (l/n)?” A deep monotonous voice called upon you, yanking you out of the self made trance by casting their shadow over you so that when you finally looked up you were greeted by a striking pair of burning ember orbs that seemed to glow. “...yes...that is I...” You cringed at the sound of your voice that clearly betrayed the level-headedly calm emotion you wanted to portray only to come out as a ‘I’m about to fucking shit myself fam where am I?!’ Voice...you must sound so fucking pathetic to this hulking ember eyed person in the golden suit of armour that shimmered and shined as brightly as the place from before.

The man only raised a brow at this before turning to set his attention on the something that was apparently imerging behind you with a blank face with such intensity that would’ve made you wished the bridge swallowed you whole right here right now, you couldn’t find it within yourself to turn around as you were still scared stuff by the towering male before you along with the fact that you were in a unidentifiable area with no recollection of how you got there in the first place but thank fuck that you could understand them or else you would’ve been screwed greatly.

“I’ve been expecting your arrival Thor but I didn’t think it’d be this soon nor you bringing a comrade at that or I would’ve made preparations.” He casted you a gaze for a split second.

Thor? Thor Odinson? As in the same Thor as your avengers teammate Thor? Thor as in the Thor who eats out your pop tart stash within two days Thor? God of thunder, prince of Asgard Thor? Her took you here without your concent?!?!? AN INDECENT THING OF HIM TO DO, DOESN’T HE KNOW CONCENT IS KEY?!? Okay you were being dramatic but I think you’ve gained the permission to do so at this moment wouldn’t you say so?

“Ah apologies Heimdall, I just recalled a memory of which includes (y/n) here,” the golden locked deity slapped a hand upon your shoulder with such force that you swore the rainbow quartz bridge had cracked but then again you were relieved that you were on your else or else you would’ve been sent halfway through the bridge right now, “confessing one day that they’ve never been to Asgard before so I wanted to surprise them by giving them a grand tour of the palace to get them acquainted with foreign grounds.”

‘That was during a team game night of never have I ever...I don’t even remember half of the shit that went down that night and that is the first thing he remembers? Do asgardians have better memory then us?’ You thought to yourself as you stared up at Thor with a ‘how did you remember that’ look only to get a cheeky grin in return. Heimdall nodded in understanding, pointing a finger towards what you suspected was the end of the bridge with such a straight face the you wonder if the muscle structure within his face was removed as a child because you couldn’t hold a straight face when being accused of painting hello kitties all over caps sheild and tonys Ironman suit out of pure boredom. It was a talent for sure.

“There are, conveniently, two horses saddled and ready to escort you both to the palace whenever your ready.”

Oh fuck, your screwed.

The last time you’ve ridden an animal was when you were a child at the beach where they were giving out free donkey rides, your ass was gonna get a hammering of a lifetime so your mentally preparing to tape two bags of ice to your battered ass cheeks for when you get back to base.

Thor didn’t seem to take notice of your fearful face as he smiled brightly at Heimdall before carefully yanking you up from the ground with ease, dragging you away from Heimdall, who was already making his way back towards a golden dome without sparing a second glance back and before you knew what was happening you were stood at the end of the rainbow quartz bridge, staring at the sight of a strong stallion with a white coat and a blonde mane and a grey mare with a black braided mane staring you both down with their differentiating eyes, making you even less enthusiastic about all this.

“You ready (y/n)?” Thor asked from upon his trusty steed in the correct position and posture that indicated that this wasn’t his first rodeo with horse ridding, the reigns laxed within his hands as he watched you with slight amusement dancing in his cerulean blue eyes as you struggled to get your foot into the stirrup and tussling around to get a more comfortable position, which to your figuration was pretty much impossible upon a horses back, shooting the muscled male a less then convincing smile, internally screaming at yourself to get off before it was too late and that you could just walk the rest of the way like Jaskier from the Witcher since Geralt wasn’t the type to let anyone else who wasn’t him to ride Roach, your palms began sweating furiously as your body wracked with nerves and anxiety.

“Yeah, ready as ever pal...” but knowing the deity for a while you knew that he has troubles picking up on ques such as this and urged his horse down the dirt path in a successful gallop with relative ease while you stayed stuck for a good 5 minutes before you took down down the track in a slow trot...this was gonna be a hefty journey wasn’t it?

-timeskip-

Hours of ass hankerings and almost falls later you and Thor have made it to the towering mass of gold that you now know was the asgardian palace, Thor’s home, lucky bastard; As you pulled up to the stables, two servants came rushing out towards you and Thor, hands out ready to take the well trained horses from your hands but before you could wave them off and tell them you could take care of it, which was an absolute bullshit lie because you hated having people do mundane shit you know damn well you were fully capable of doing, Thor managed to steer you into the palace through its winding complex hallways you could easily get lost within without a guide, gaining some stares from passing maids and servants alike who must’ve thought you were his next conquest or something which made your stomach regurgitate and send an unpleasant shiver down your spine.

You only thought of Thor as a brother, a friend at best so when people assume that you were something more because you had great chemistry with each other grinds your gears and forced you to suppress the urge to vomit. Unknowing of where you were supposed to be heading exactly you piped up your enquirees in a unnerving tone, “Thor? Where are we going exactly... asking for a friend I.e me.”

Thor laughed at this before vaguely responding with, “To introduce you to a someone whom I hold in high regard of course.” His walk slows down gradually when nearing a large set of double doors with golden handknobs at the end of the hallway with a plaque that read ‘biblioteket.’ It must be a library or something since you remembered Thor telling you how since Asgard didn’t rely on electronics they would have books for entertainment or go to pubs for a laugh, which to you sounded like a fever dream considering how everyone had their noses stuck in their phones nowadays, wasting away perfectly good opportunities.

Thor opened the mahogany door by the cool golden doorknob, letting go of your shoulder as to let you inside first like a gentlemen, escourting you deeper into the ginormous room as a wave of musky old book smell hit you like a freight train as if the extensive collection of books didn’t knock you off your feet leaving you with a dropped jaw as you stared around the room in wonder as you all you could fathom in that moment was that you were in literature heaven as far as your eyes could see was bookshelves amongst bookshelves ram packed with every book imaginable not to mention ancient spell books, history books in their natural transcription only took your breath away.

If you thought Stark library was impressive upon first glance well the Asgard palace had it bested hands down, you could waste away your days here and feel accomplished, it was sad that nowadays everything was digital so books were now becoming modern day relics essentially but you enjoyed reading the old fashioned way because it felt as if you were actually holding something magical within your hands, something special that could transport you anywhere you heart desires instead of holding a electronic device that everyone alive had possession of it couldn’t beat the feeling you’d always get when opening a new book ready to start another journey, never in a million life times.

Too speechless to speak you just let your body wander between aisle after aisle of paperback to hardback books in wonder, not bothering to check if Thor was following after you as you were long gone by the spectacle of beauty that surrounded you, books from any time period possible from Shakespeare to Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, Tolkien, R.L Stein, Derek Landy, George R.R. Martin, J.K Rowling to modern classics.

You felt like Belle when she saw Beasts private library, awestruck, you didn’t think a thousand lifetimes could even scratch the surface of reading every last book within the facility no matter the reading difficulty but you could damn as well try, plus the library didn’t have that many occupants anyway so reading in utter silence couldn’t be anymore easier then breathing.

“Impressed by our exstensive array of books I see?” A silky smooth voice spoke up from behind you, dripping in amusement and slight cockiness that you only heard from a certain genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist back at home...you remembered a time in your life refusing to call the avengers base home, claiming it was the hill you were willing to die upon but the you you were all those years back is not the same exact person you were today; you sure have changed from that stubborn headed individual who refused to confined to shit, it was nuts really but not out of the ordinary because the you you were yesterday isn’t the same you you are today or however the saying goes, you didn’t have the best memory.

Turning around you saw a slim built of a male with a knack for the colours of green, black and gold, (and leather apprently) an ivory complexion blessed with high cheekbones, elegant jawline that’s not to sharp yet not too soft just the right middle ground, perfectly sculpted nose but the selling point was his piercing jade eyes that had specks of cerulean blue within them as the sunlight refracted from a nearby widow had shown you, his face framed by the silkiest head of onyx locks you’ve seen cascaded down to gradually rest on top his broad shoulders with grace.

You didn’t think he was real upon first glance due to his ethereal balance of masculine and feminine qualities but here he was, present before you in the flesh, sat on a royal purple plush couch, leather bound book resting upon his lap, gently caressed by long, nimble piano fingers.

“W.....who are-“

“Loki Laufeyson at your service,” Loki gave a little mock bow from his place as best as he could with a fraction of a smile, “who may you be little dove?” He asked with what others may’ve assumed was a condescending look in his mischievous eyes but in fact was a look of pure intrigue and curiousness, head slightly titled to the side made him look somewhat adorable in your eyes for some reason. Mentally ridding yourself of that thought you exaggerated a curtsy as you introduced yourself, putting on the most poshest voice you could imitate.

“I’m (y/f/n), full time avenger and part time bookworm.”

Something within your exaggerated introduction must’ve tickled the handsome mans funny bone as his tight lipped mouth curled up into a smirk of sorts as a light rumble of laughter filled the air, echoing off the walls. Even his laugh was elegant, you thought that sort of feet was near enough inhumanly possible as you either get ugly laughs or average joe laughs but he was just smashing through your expectations as if they were made out of paper machae.

“At least one of you imbeciles has a sense of humour.” He said as he finally calmed down, shooting you a small genuine smile.

“I take it you don’t dish out such kind hearted compliments much?” You sarcastically inquired the jade eyed enchanter with vague innocence, still entranced by his laugh from earlier and you could already assume that he rarely laughed as much as he did today then in his entire lifetime.

The raven haired male chuckled once more replying, “even if I did people are quick to assume I’m after something and are on immediate awareness other then that it’s usually used as a empty sarcastic retort.”

“It seems you can’t win everyone over.” “Especially if your the god of mischief and lies, then no, you can’t.”

There was a beat of silent of silence between the two of you as you found yourself engaged in a starting contest with the deity, taking the chance to admire his sun soaked features that gave you the feeling that your only witnessing what he wants you to witness, hiding another side to him that he didn’t seem all that keen on, something that is hung over his head like a constant reminder of an ugly truth he wished was fictional but sadly was the solid truth; he was hiding a side he considers unbearable, inhuman and most of all...unloveable.

For some reason within your chest, deep down, you felt an unfamiliar tightness that was neither constricting nor too loose, a feeling you’ve never really had in the presence of others really. You felt as if you were the MC of a poorly written romance novel that thought it was gonna make it big but is yet to escape the coverage of the authors mothers basment. Where

the love interest, Male/female, oh most defiantly straighter then uncooked pasta, and the main character, Male/female with the straightness of an nail, having a ‘moment’ staring deep into each other’s eyes after spending half of the plot either eye fucking each other from a distance or arguing with each other, building up sexual tension in the most cringest way possible by having them touch each other in what you suppose to suspect was ‘intimate.’ Before coming together in a sloppy ass kiss that makes you cringe and turn your head away, most preferably in the rain for some dramatic crap; but then again there were times like this that were ruined by an unnamed side character who’s somehow connected to either mc or love interest in order to keep people interested in their inevitable hook up and in this scenario that unnamed character was a naive blonde by the name of...

“Thor, what brings you here.” Loki seemingly spat out poisonously, jade eyes narrowing into slits at the very person who had to hog all the spotlight with his hulking mass, leaving no room whatsoever for his lean yet muscled little brother an ounce of warm light to soak in, to be cast away into the shadows, coddling a baby flicker of emerald fire between his hands in hopes that one day it’ll get bigger and stronger to power through the frost bitten criticism along the way.

“I came here with (y/n) to show them around Asgard and introduce them to you but it seemed that your already well acquainted with one another.” The battleborn deity looked between his beloved brother and his beloved teammate awkwardly as if he had just intruded on something sacred, something souly crafted to suit you and the god of mischief.

Unable to withstand the awkwardness, Thor bids his brother a farewell before taking you by the arm once more to lead you back out of the fanciful room of literature, leaving you no time to bid the entrancing Loki and the magnificently magical room adue but he was sure to send you a little farewell wave with his fingers as emerald magic materialised around them and his book, hoisting it back onto the bookcase before yanking a new one down as the Mahogany doors came to a close behind you.

“Sooo,” Thor drew out teasingly, nudging you with his broad shoulder a little too roughly leaving you stumbling as you strolled through the complex hallways to what you could presume was going to be your next pit stop of the grand tour, “you and Loki seemed quite...intrigued with one another so it seems.”

Your face flushed candy apple red as the sense of embarrassment encased your being, averting your eyes to the spectacularly clean flooring as to not see the smug look upon Thor’s face; oh most defiantly ready to talk his brother up for a potential suitor, all behind his brothers back no less.

“He’s...He’s just an interesting guy, nothing more nothing less.” You quickly denied, making him let out his thunderous laugh as he threw an arm around your shoulder, ruffling you hair playfully.

“Yeaaaaaahhhh....sure, you keep telling yourself that.”

#marvel imagines #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #loki imagine #loki imagines #loki x reader #mcu imagines #mcu imagine #mcu x reader #loki x you #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson imagines #loki laufeyson imagine #heimdall #thor odinson

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bnhainsert · 4 years

Text

Sound Out

Here is part 3 of my story

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Chapter 3: Recitative

Jiro and Hado were both up pretty early, ready to get a start on this case. They both looked through the files given to Jiro before they left for the briefing. Seeing the photos of so many missing people made Hado’s blood boil. She only hoped that they were still alive to rescue.

The two arrived in their hero costumes ready to get started. Hado’s costume wasn’t too complex. Her top half bore a crop top with long sleeves. It was flowy so that She could get deep breaths to project her voice to manipulate those soundwaves. Her bottoms were comfortable black pants with the same blue wave patterns as on her crop top. They were supposed to be soundwaves, but she knew you couldn’t see soundwaves, so she went for a visual representation that most technology could produce. She had her signature black and white headphones to help both cancel out and amplify sound. Attached to the headphones was a very small mic that people could only see if they tried hard enough to find it. Around her waist was a belt with small grey devices that allowed her speak through. If for any reason she couldn’t get too close to a target, she would slap one of them down, get a decent distance away, and speak into her mic, causing the sound to come from the device. If she bent the soundwaves just right, she could sound like anything, or anyone, that she has heard before.

The two heroes sat at the conference table. Hado looked around at other heroes she may or may not have known. She clearly recognized Deku. He was studying the case notes very intently. Hado could understand. She looked just to Deku’s right and saw what looked like a knight in shining armor. Literally. Hado wracked her brain for who this hero was. “Oh yeah! That’s Ingenium! The hero with the built-in engines” She remembered. Ingenium was looking over Deku’s shoulder at the notes as well. The two seemed close.

Jiro leaned over to whisper to Hado. “Most of the heroes here were in class A together. It’s why we communicate so well and why we are so hellbent on catching these villains” She explained. Hado nodded in understanding. She continued to scan the table as more heroes arrived. She started to remember the hero names she had read about before. Uravity was here along with Froppy the frog hero. They were both probably good at reconnaissance for this particular mission. Hado remembered that they would team up quite often.

She was shocked to see Ground Zero here as well. She understood that they were probably in the same class but Ground Zero seemed a little scary and a little too loud for this mission. She kept scanning so as not to make eye contact with him.

There was Tentacole, the hero who had dupliarms as a quirk. Creati was also present, which made a lot of sense to Hado. Chargebolt managed to take a seat to jiro’s left side. He started chatting her up. Hado decided to stay out of that conversation. “Who else is here....let’s see” .

Eraserhead was here! It had been awhile since she had seen that sleepy face. Jet-black hero Tsukuyomi was here. Tape hero Cellophane was also here. Before she could continue to look around at familiar faces, a detective cleared his throat and started the briefing.

“Thank you all for being here so early. We are trying to piece together this case in a way that makes sense, and helps us advance to some kind of rescue. Most of the upcoming missions will be reconnaissance just to give us any more possible information so that we can surprise the enemy” the detective stated. “I’ve worked closely with most of you now, but I would like to welcome Vocaller to our investigation. She is a hero from a small town but her quirk is incredibly useful”.

Hado stood up and bowed. “Thank you for this opportunity to serve. I hope I will be of use” She said and sat back down.

“Wait wait but how does your quirk work? How is she going to be helpful?” Chargebolt interrupted, genuinely curious. The detective looked at Hado, seeing if she was comfortable enough to divulge that information to the large group of heroes in the room. Hado sighed and stood back up. “I can manipulate soundwaves. If there are soundwaves present, which unless you live in space are always going to be present, I can bend them to create different frequencies or amplitudes. By doing this I can mimic sounds of things or people I have heard before. I can also basically stop the sound waves in an area to deafen anyone there. Having a quirk based on sound also made me train my ear so I have an acute sense of hearing as well” she explained. “That enough for you sparky?” she jeered.

“Um yeah. That was a lot more than I expected” Chargebolt responded.

“Ahem...anyway Vocaller will be helping us get any kind of new information to help us really crack this case” The detective continued.

The detective turned on the projector, clicking through slides of information. Hado watched as faces from the case file flashed across the screen. They all were different ages and different genders. It was suspicious though that one of the first people ever kidnapped had a quirk that essentially keeps small groups of people hidden. “Were they using this quirk? And if so how? Did they voluntarily do it? Were they held at gunpoint?” Hado thought to herself.

Jiro bumped her with her elbow. “Yo are you okay? You look incredibly confused and upset” Jiro whispered. “I’m just.....I’m stuck on the first person they kidnapped” Hado responded a little louder than a whisper.

“What do you mean you’re stuck on them” snarled Ground Zero.

Hado momentarily jumped from the intense voice directed at her. “I mean....Look at that quirk. A quirk with the ability to keep a small group of people hidden...Don’t you think a villain would jump at the chance to use that quirk? And if they are using it, How are they using it? Is this person doing it voluntarily? Are they holding them at gunpoint?” She explained. “I was wondering the same thing” Deku spoke up. “There’s also someone with the quirk ‘Reset” which can reset an area back to the way it was 5-10 minutes before. It only effects inanimate objects so the people would still be there, but it would be pretty convenient for a villain” Deku continued.

“Those people that were kidnapped are probably being threatened into using their quirks for them” Ingenium interjected. Hado felt a pit in her stomach. “If that really is the case it is incredibly important that we get this job done without being detected. If they find out we are trying to track them they may hurt those that have been kidnapped more than they already have. Chances are they are not dead because their quirks would prove to be very useful. We have to do this right” the detective replied. Most everyone in the room nodded in agreement.Hado looked over to Deku who shared a knowing glance with her.

“We are splitting you guys into smaller groups and spreading you out across the city to look for suspicious activity. We have several spots that we think may be of interest to them. That where we will station you guys. Vocaller! You will be in the area where we are most certain they will appear” the detective explained.

“Oh god oh god what if I fuck up oh no” Hado’s internal monologue had her sweating and shrinking into herself.

“I’ll go with her” Deku said confidently.

“Why should you get to go where the enemies are most likely to show up?” Ground Zero growled. “Look Ka-...Ground Zero, I think I would be able to work well enough with Vocally that if the need arose, we could use my quirk to fight undetected thanks to her” Deku elaborated.

“Yeah I think it would be hard to control the soundwaves of a bunch of explosions. Plus I mean....you would see them so it would be a dead giveaway” Cellophane added.

“Tch”.

Everyone got their assignment and were told to start scouting at around 11p.m. that night. Everyone started moving to leave when Deku called out to Vocally. Hado looked at Jiro and Jiro gave her a knowing nod. “I’ll see you later so we can prepare for tonight okay?” Jiro reassured her. Hado nodded but the pit in her stomach had just grown bigger.

“Do you mind if we had another chat?” Deku asked Hado. She couldn’t really say no.

The two pro heroes stayed in the conference room, knowing that it would probably be one of the safest places to have a discussion about the case.

“I saw your face during the briefing. You think something is off too. You think something worse is happening don’t you” Deku pushed. “Woah hold on. Please give me some time to breathe. I’ve just been told that I would be put on the front lines here with the big time criminals. I’ve only ever fought your run of the mill thieves and crooks” Hado said frantically, sitting back down to try and catch her breath. Her chest started to tighten. “Oh god a panic attack? Right now? In front of this incredible pro hero...no please stop...”.

Deku’s face flashed with a realization. Hado was having a panic attack and he had probably caused it. He sat down next to her, took her hand and told her to breath in and out with him. They took a few deep breaths together. “I apologize. I may have pushed a little too hard there. I’m just....just so frustrated” Deki said clenching his fist around Hado’s hand. He looked like he was about to cry.

Hado felt the pressure he was putting on her hand and it helped her calm herself a little bit. “You’re probably the most frustrated one here. I can empathize with that. I know that if people were disappearing in my town and I couldn’t stop it myself, I would feel pretty awful” She told him trying to help with the anxiety plaguing them both.

She pulled her hand away and patted Deku on the back. “Look here’s what I know...”.

They discussed how weird the first few disappearances were. They talked about how it made them feel sick to their stomach, unsure of what was actually happening to these people. Objectively the combined powers of the quirks talked about would probably be why they were so hard to catch or follow. They tried to come up with strategies to get information without alarming the crime syndicate. Hado knew how to sneak around and gather information but this seemed a bit above her pay grade. She was relieved to have Deku there who seemed to know the ins and outs of everything involving heroes.

“So you can deafen people with your quirk, you can manipulate sound waves to make them sound like people or things you’ve heard before,You can amplify the sound waves to push yourself to increase your mobility....Is there anything else you could do that might be helpful in this situation?” Deku questioned her.

Hado went through her quirk in her mind. He had just about listed everything she could do. She was impressed by how observant he was. She tried to think hard about her power. “Creating different sounds at once has been a bit of a struggle for me considering I need to have an idea of both sounds at once happening in my head. The training that takes just to adjust your ears to be able to seperate sounds and analyze them is rough....but it can be done. I’ve done it maybe once before when the situation looked really bleak. I had to close my eyes and concentrate really hard, but it was doable” She revealed.

“Would you be able to make those two sounds happen in two different places?” Deku asked. “Oh....I might be able to do that. Hold on. Let me see if I can try in this small space”.

Hado closed her eyes and thought of 2 different sounds in her mind. She thought of the frequency and the amplitude they would need to be put in opposite corners of the room. Two things she was very familiar with. She had to think. Her voice would be one and her keyboard would be the other. She knew what they each sounded like and visualized the soundwaves and where they would happen. The sound of her voice saying “We will save these people” rang at one end of the room while the faint sound of a piano playing a simple melody barely made itself known on the other side.

Deku’s eyes widened with surprise. “That’s incredible Vocaller! You did it!” he praised. Hado let out a huge puff of air. It gave her a headache to do this much work. Focusing on one sound and manipulating waves in the same area was fine. Working in two different places with two different sounds was a whole new ballgame. “Yeah I did it.....but it took a lot of effort and the piano was no where near as loud as I was hoping I could make it” Hado said clearly disappointed. “But this is so useful! If we need a quick last resort distraction, you can make 2 sounds happen in different areas! It’s perfect!” Deku continued to gush.

Hado gave a small laugh. “You sound like a small kid discovering heroes for the first time” Hado jested. “Well I’m a pro hero and I don’t know everything there is to know about every pro hero. I learn something new every day and I hope that never stops” Deku smiled a bright genuine smile. It made Hado feel warm and safe. His attitude toward his heroing duties made her feel like she could do anything herself as a hero. “Is this what Jiro was talking about?” She thought.

The two sat and talked just a little bit longer before going their separate ways.”Oh hey! Deku!” Hado turned around and shouted to the green hero. “None of this is your fault. We’ll figure this out tonight”

Deku looked surprised again watching Hado as she left. He smiled and nodded to himself. They could do this.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

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minsungsfork · 5 years

Text

A Plan

Genre: Hybrid!Stray Kids AU, Female!Reader, Fluff

Summary: You were going on a date with someone the boys didn’t like.

Warnings: None

A/N: For the anon who requested this, sorry if it took so long !!! i hope you’d still like this ^^

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In front of the closet, you are seen rummaging through your clothes while standing there; wearing nothing but a towel that draped around your body.

Your colleague, Kiyeon, had set you up on a blind date. Despite your efforts in rejecting her plan, she had made up her mind—besides, she would always tell you to go and enjoy life.

“I swear, you’d like this guy. He’s like, perfect for you!” She would always tell with you grumbling in response. You would have ditched your date and watch netflix all day long with the boys, but you didn’t want to be rude.

“Is this okay?” You stared at your reflection for the past 5 minutes, struggling to pick a decent outfit. The outfit you had on was a blue sleeveless dress, an outfit you didn’t know you had and popped from your closet of black and grey.

Looking at the clock, you realize you’ve spent too much time deciding and staring at your reflection. At last you made up your mind, choosing to wear the royal blue dress.

Quickly painting your lips a light pink of color, you grabbed a brown sling bag, which you rarely use, and headed down the stairs.

You caught the boys chilling on the living room, all dressed up and seemed to have been waiting for you. “Sorry for the wait,” you apologized, hopping down the staircase which made your dress flow in a pretty manner.

“Wow, Y/N knows how to dress well,” Jisung joked that earned a light hit from Hyunjin. “Yah, at least she has a fashion sense, unlike you.” Hyunjin stuck his tongue out just to annoy the boy.

“Are you sure you’d go on this date? You could just join us roaming around,” Minho suggested with a grin. “I could always call anyone of you if this guy is some sort of creep or something,” you laughed in response.

“Shall we go?” The boys all cheered, tailing behind you to your van—mind that this was brand new and you were proud to call it yours since it came from your own hard work.

Minho offered to drive in which you agreed too. They all climbed on the back seat while you sat on the passenger’s seat.

“Let’s go!”

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Everyone had gotten off the van, including you. Somewhere near the restaurant, which is where you and your date was supposed to meet, the car was seen parked. “You all can go roam around, but be back in 3 hours or so,” you told, each one of them nodding in reply. “Then I’ll be on my way.”

You parted ways with the boys and made way to meet the guy you were paired up with. Kiyeon had sent you a photo of the man to help you in spotting him. You stared at the picture, taking in the features of the man you were going to meet.

You’d be lying if you said he wasn’t handsome. You only had a picture of his face. He had jet black hair, sharp eyes and a contagious, happy smile that balanced well with his intimidating stare. Kiyeon also mentioned that his name was Woohyun and that he was a friend of her.

While walking, your mind keeps popping thoughts of how the man would be like. Would he be nice? Maybe rude? What if he’s a creep? What if he’s actually plotting to kill me and I wouldn’t know?

You shook those thoughts off, your feet finding its way in front of the restaurant. You mentally slapped yourself and took a deep breath. “Here goes nothing,” you whispered to yourself as you pushed the glass door open.

As you went right inside, you scanned around to hopefully see the man. Then, you spotted him on a booth beside the window. You tightly clutched your phone, obviously nervous and tense. But nonetheless, you approached him with the best smile you could muster.

“Um, hi?” You sounded a bit awkward that made the boy chuckle. “Hello, you must be Y/N?” You nodded to his question before sitting across him.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Woohyun but I think Kiyeon had already mentioned that?” He stared at you, smiling. “Ah, she did,” you replied with a giggle.

“She also said that she has never seen you on a date before?” He continued to ask, trying to keep the conversation going without making you feel uncomfortable. “Yeah, the last date I had was back in highschool with some random dude I don’t remember,” you stated, looking down on your lap, “didn’t work out though.”

He nodded before calling out for the waiter. “Well, you can choose whatever you like, the food’s on me,” Woohyun said as he scanned the menu before looking at you, “it’s the least I can do to at least make you enjoy your time here.”

You smiled. This small gesture is making your heart flutter as pink dusted your cheeks. You didn’t expect him to be this kind, but you appreciated it.

You could say you were a girl that gets easily swayed.

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After you have left, the boys have decided to split into three groups, agreeing to meet up by the parking lot after 3 hours.

Minho was paired with Jisung and Hyunjin, which Minho mentally cursed at Chan for giving him the noisy kids while he gets Jeongin and Changbin.

Now the three of them walked down the pavement, looking around for a said arcade that was around the area. Jisung and Hyunjin hopped ahead, leaving Minho trailing behind them with an unamused look on his face.

Hyunjin abruptly stop, making Jisung stop as well while Minho almost collided with Hyunjin’s back. “What the hell Hyunjin?” Minho hissed as he walked past the boy.

“Hey, it’s Y/N!” Hyunjin pointed out making Jisung stare at where Hyunjin was pointing. Minho then stopped at his tracks and looked to the restaurant that made Hyunjin stop.

“Her date is giving off bad vibes, I don’t like him,” Jisung grumbled as he stared at you and the, laughing and seemingly having fun. “She’s having fun though,” Minho mentioned and grabbed both of their arms, but they resisted.

“Hyung!” Hyunjin glared at the older boy. “I don’t like him too, there’s something off about him.” Hyunjin jabbed Jisung on his side then scowled when the squirrel was seen typing away on his phone.

“Jisung! Focus!” Hyunjin shook Jisung, making the boy stare up at him. “I called back up! The others are coming,” Jisung stated as he backed away from Hyunjin.

“Hold on. You texted Chan?” Minho stared at the young boy in disbelief. “And the others too,” Jisung added that caused more stress to the jaguar. Minho could only rub his temples as he waited the others to come and get scolded by Chan and maybe Woojin.

As in on cue, Minho’s phone rang. He answered it, knowing who would speak on the other line and prepared himself. “Minho.”

There it was. Chan’s annoyed voice. Minho glared at the two young boys that he was forced to accompany.

‘I would have clawed these two to death by now’

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“Okay captain Hyunjin, what’s the plan?” The boys are now all gathered up in an alleyway where you wouldn’t see them.

“This is ridiculous,” Chan sighed, crossing his arms, “Y/N looks so happy! I’ve never seen her this happy with anyone but us before.”

Woojin only chuckled, finding the situation amusing—so he decided to join the kids. “Aye, aye captain Hyunjin, we’re waiting for your command,” Woojin joked, even saluting to the younger boy.

Everyone seemed on board except for Chan amd Minho, who both still thought the whole situation was ridiculous and childish. Minho’s face says it all.

“So, this is what I got,” Hyunjin gestured them to come closer, “we call Y/N and tell her Jeongin had ate something and now he had a nasty tummy ache.”

“Why me?” Jeongin whined as his name was mentioned in the said plan. “Everyone adores you, especially Y/N. I’m sure she’d leave her date for us, right Hyunjin?” Felix looked at Hyunjin who nodded in agreement.

“Fine, fine, but you owe me,” Jeongin agreed and Hyunjin now seemed more determined than ever. “Let’s go save Y/N from the suspicious boy!” The rest roared in approval and excitement, except Chan and Minho, who wanted nothing but some peace.

With the plan set, they started walking to the parking lot where they would call you. Hyunjin and Jeongin led the boys, the pair talking over the plan to hopefully not mess up. Once they reached your car, Hyunjin had whipped his phone out.

“I’m calling her,” Hyunjin announced as he pressed the dial button on his phone. They all stood in silence, only rings from the mobile could be heard.

Minho leaned to Chan and whispered, “You think this is ridiculous, right?” Chan nodded and the jaguar could only puff a short, discontented breath.

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Inside the restaurant, you were still happily chatting Woohyun when you were cut off by your phone ringing. “Sorry, I gotta take this call,” you apologized before answering the call and turning away from him.

“Hello?”

“Y/N!!” Hyunjin’s sudden scream made you push the device away slightly. “Y/N! Emergency!”

“Why? What’s wrong?” You asked, your mind going on full alert mode. “Hyunjin! Are you guys ok?” You ask once more.

“It’s Jeongin! He’s having a terrible tummy ache and wants to go home,” he quickly explained. You looked at the boy seated across you who stared back, his eyes tinted with concern.

“I’m coming quick,” you answered and dropped the call. “I’m terribly sorry but I have to go. There’s an emergency and I need to go back home.” You packed your things and stood up, Woohyun following after.

“Well I have your number, I gusss I could text you,” Woohyun mentioned in which made you softly smile. “Ok then. Sorry again and have a nice day!” You then made a run to the parking lot, obviously worried about Jeongin’s health. M

On the side of the boys, they all had celebrated like they received such great achievement. “Jeongin, you have to pretend your hurt now,” Seungmin mentioned to the fox that acted out the pain. “Not bad,” Changbin honestly said and patted the back of Jeongin.

They didn’t wait very long until your figure was seen running towards the boys. This is the signal that Jeongin now needed ro act. “Jeongin!! Are you ok!?” Jeongin had been rhe first you approached, obviously worried.

Jeongin pretended his was in pain as he clutched his tummy. “I’m okay, just...just need to rest,” Jeongin blurted out and you unlocked the car, immediately pushing the fox inside.

“C’mon, chop chop, the sooner we’re home, the better,” you told as you watch them get inside the van one by one. Now you volunteered to take over the wheel with Minho sitting beside you.

You started the engine and quickly took off, the boys silently rejoicing in victory.

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split-n-splice · 4 years

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Uberlate update because I got uberdistracted. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[Chapter Guide]

20. Welfare Check – 2

When Drakken returned to his kitchen once his company left, he found the sack of cash from the Vegas exchange on the counter, the very sack he’d forgotten in her backpack. He was almost as pleased to find not a single bill was missing as he was to find a sticky-note with her number stuck to the top of one bundle.

He had it memorized at the first glance, but he still pinned the note to the wall by the telephone for safe keeping.

The very telephone he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off for the rest of the night. He was on his toes, eager for a call to tell him how it went. Not that she’d ever suggested she might give him a review, but he still hoped for one. He began to dread a mishap – what if the malodorous bomb had backfired? She’d be livid. She’d definitely let him know. When he’d received no praise or derision by midnight, he rang her instead, and was disappointed that she didn’t answer. He swallowed dryly and hung up before the beep.

It must have been courtesy of Shego that a henchman marched into Drakken’s lab first thing Sunday morning, just as he was psyching himself out to return to work on the cannon. The henchman’s red jumpsuit was filthy and he tracked sand in as he came to personally report that the van had been recovered.

Curiosity was enough to tempt Drakken to the garage.

On the way, he tore out the elastic band from his hair, although he slipped it onto his wrist rather than discarding it entirely. One henchman catching him wearing a “cute” ponytail, as Shego called it, was one too many. Putting his hair back this morning in the first place had been silly.

As Drakken skulked out into the garage, he had decidedly bigger things to worry about than his hairdo. Like repairing the van. He took one look at it and groaned, shoving up his glasses to rub his eyes and growl out a curse into his hands. He had to pull his glasses back on eventually to face the damages.

At a glance, the van didn’t look totaled, but it still wasn’t a pretty sight. Not that it ever had been – not since he’d owned it, anyway. It would take a lot more than some elbow grease to buff out the wall of dents and gouged metal on the driver’s side. How Shego had come away with little more than a cut or two was a wonder in itself.

He hoped the TLC and repairs the van needed wouldn’t cut far into his profit margin. It was undoubtedly uglier and in need of new windows, but he was relieved to hear no one had scavenged it for parts and it hadn’t needed to be towed.

The filthy henchmen who had ventured out to scour the desert for the van and bring it home were dispersing now, though one particularly bold goon thought it wise to hover nearby and wonder, “What did we miss, anyway?”

Drakken set a foot on the gnarled bumper and eyed a smashed headlight. “Wish I could tell you,” he answered flippantly. Honestly though, it was a tad hazy. There’d been gambling and vandalism, he remembered that well enough, and then he’d smuggled his partner in crime into a villain-exclusive pub for bite to eat before they hit the road, and he’d gauged her response to such unscrupulous company while he was at it, and things had gotten a little carried away from there. Next thing he knew, he was living in the moment and having the time of his life when suddenly the little thrill ride Shego had them on took an unexpected turn, and the world had continued to spin for a while after that. He had the evidence of a carjacking parked nearby, and had watched the news intently again this morning, waiting for his or his accomplice’s names to be broadcast as the suspects in a supposed “hit and run” that had left an officer hospitalized yesterday morning. So far, it appeared they were getting off scot-free.

Just thinking about it was enough to make his head spin all over again. He reached for his temple and bit back a groan.

That was when the henchman added to his headache by grunting, “Not the kiss and tell type. Got it.” Before Drakken could whirl to snap at the hired muscle to mind his own business, the fellow had already flipped on a shop-vac to begin cleaning up the mess of glass and rock littering the van.

Another henchman was there to quickly distract him anyway, going over a list of problems and repairs that needed to be made, assuming Drakken still wanted to keep the sorry tin can given the shape it was in. He sighed and gave the order to do whatever it took to restore the rig and get it presentable and roadworthy again, and to give the stolen station wagon similar treatment.

Overseeing repairs was as good a distraction as any to keep him from waiting out by the phone on the off chance his unruly accomplice called. She was probably just busy with her alone time or off stirring trouble and getting into the spirit of the season, he told himself. If she popped back in on her day off to report the results in person, that would be lovely, but he didn’t hold his breath.

Loitering in the garage, Drakken perched up in the jet left half-gutted, smiling contentedly at the machine with the knowledge it had been stolen right out from under the noses of superheroes. He wondered briefly if his accomplice could teach him to fly it, but halted the train of thought once he realized it was back on her.

He tried to contemplate instead how he might use the stolen tech he now had at his disposal. Notebook nowhere to be found, he resorted to a clipboard and scrap printer paper to make a few notes and jot a few ideas. He’d still yet to fully understand all the ins-and-outs of the craft, so he had a lot of familiarizing to do.

Meanwhile, the garage door remained open, and for the life of him he couldn’t keep his eyes on the jet where they belonged.

It was autumn, and it was getting colder as autumn should. The subterranean lair was almost as cool on any given day in summer, so Drakken was indifferent to the chill until it began sinking into his bones as the temperature dropped with the overcast and setting sun. A henchman with a truck had returned a while ago from the big city with the new panes of glass and some extra odds and ends to give the van and wagon tune-ups, and the crew was busy installing and repairing, chattering and laughing and making a commotion, oblivious to the nippiness or the gloom settling outside.

Drakken gave the distant front gate one last disappointed look before hitting the button on the wall to shut the garage door so he wouldn’t have to see it anymore.

He meant to return to supervising the henchmen and studying the jet, but instead he found himself back in his kitchen, back at the phone, listening to instructions to leave a message at the beep, which he didn’t follow. Then he was rummaging through a storage room, hoping an unexpected raven-haired guest would pop up to give him a heart attack and make his ill-conceived endeavor pointless, but she never did.

Several minutes later, he was back in the garage, just passing through. The henchmen acting as grease monkeys didn’t even look up as he cut through their midst on the way to the side exit.

He wished he’d thought to grab a flashlight as he climbed the hillside in the dark, a secure case tucked safely under on arm as he tripped over roots and obstacles on the path. His accomplice was lucky to have the superpower of giving herself a little light whenever it was needed. It would have been nice if she were with him now, so he could ask her to spare some, but then again, he probably wouldn’t be stumbling his way up the hill now if she was with him.

The trees opened up to a small recreation area sporting a fire pit and a picnic table he rarely used himself, but he made use of it now. High-powered binoculars he’d cobbled together himself some years ago were propped up on a tripod and set on the table where he settled in.

Some adjustments and muttered curses and more adjustments, and he managed to focus the crude homemade device on the little oasis in the valley, straining his eyes as he did. Town wasn’t terribly far away, but it was far enough not to get his hopes up to see anything in great detail. The glittering pool of colorful lights was lively though, and even more so through the binoculars. It would have been easy to get distracted by all the amusing decorations strewn through town, but if he wanted to sightsee, he could just take a stroll through town tomorrow himself when the festivities peaked.

It took some time, and it was thoroughly dark when Drakken finally pinpointed the neighborhood he sought. A few more adjustments and he had a fleeting swell of bigheaded triumph when he found the apartments – and better yet, her window.

And then he leaned back from the binoculars, suddenly not so sure if he could now be classified as a peeping tom. He groaned and scratched at his scalp as he skewed his eyes shut, swearing he could hear her chewing him out for having the audacity to look through her windows from miles away.

But he didn’t mean anything bad by it! And even if he did, he was a villain, wasn’t he? At least he was trying to be. She should expect something thoughtlessly crude like spying. It wasn’t like his intent was to snoop into anything private for any seedy purposes. He was only curious why she hadn’t returned his call. And he was worried, and his rig was currently up on jacks so it wasn’t like he could just drive over to see for himself. She hadn’t been caught and arrested for anything, had she?

Hazarding another peek, Drakken determined that her lights were off but the television was on, judging by the flickers through the blinds. He sat back again and rubbed his eyes, pushing the binoculars aside to make it harder to steal another glance without spending another five minutes refocusing them. She was home, watching TV, keeping out of trouble. Good. That was enough for him – that was all he needed to know.

He still wondered, when he returned to his kitchen and glanced toward the phone, if he ought to try calling again. But he stuck his nose up and set his resolve that he wasn’t that desperate for feedback.

Or maybe he was.

Left hanging, he spent half the night again dreading the bomb had backfired. She was probably plotting his demise by now, if it had.

By morning, the station wagon was just shy of good as new. The van meanwhile still had dents and dings to work out, though it was perfectly operational by now as well, but he still opted for the stolen wheels. According to the weather report that greeted him, the oasis was due for some morning showers. He hadn’t needed much more convincing than that to grab his keys and head out so early.

While glowering out at the fog and drizzle, he managed to convince himself he wasn’t taking a drive to town at five in the morning for a damn pat on the back. He was just going for coffee and breakfast from the Cow-n-Chow drive-thru. That he picked up a second order just in case he got hungry again later and passed by his accomplice’s residence too was just a coincidence, but since he was there, he might as well see if the civilian Shilo would like a lift to Buckley’s Brew.

He set his resolve to wait at the curb before he’d even parked, but something unusual about the apartment caught his eye as he cut the engine, tempting him to change his mind.

Sipping his steaming coffee weakened with cream and sugar, Drakken peered up at the dingy building, somewhat foreboding so early in the morning with all but a couple porch lights still off. He wondered if he ought to wait for inevitable sunrise to leach away the twilight before venturing out to even see if she was home, but that notion was dismissed just as soon as freezing fog began to frost over his windshield within a minute or so of parking.

He’d gathered already that 5:20 AM was much too early for her to consider morning, so why her door was wide open was anyone’s guess.

Someone may have broken in, he considered as he climbed the slippery concrete staircase. The iron railing wasn’t much good when it was just as slick and cold. Intruder or otherwise, someone was inside – he could smell cigarette smoke drifting out as he reached the top of the stairs, along with an overlaying odor that had nothing to do with his bomb. Various fragrances too, which did a poor job of covering it up and only served to make him scrunch his nose.

When Drakken peered through the open door into the dark studio apartment, he found his accomplice perfectly awake and puffing at a cigarette.

His brow furrowed the scene lain out before him, and at her in particular. She had some nerve to complain he didn’t take care of himself.

A sway away from falling out the second-story window, Shego – rather, Shilo was precariously balanced on the windowsill, legs drawn up to support a small leather-bound notebook on her knees, reading it by the dim green glow at her fingertips, dangerously close to lighting the pages on fire. It took Drakken only a second to recognize it was his. It was only a pad to jot down ideas on the go, but it was an invasion of privacy nonetheless. Try as he might to rack his brains, he couldn’t recall her swiping it from him – although he’d certainly allowed her to get close enough to do so a good handful of times.

Before Drakken could remember what he’d come here for, a loud snore startled him and his gaze darted from the woman in the window to a body wrapped up in a blanket on the floor beneath her. If it weren’t for a leash tied to the foot of the bed with an empty collar attached at the end of it, Drakken might not have recognized her guest. Unlike Shilo, who had the decency to wear a full set of pajamas – more conservative than anything he knew she even owned – what’s-his-face the dog boy was only half-dressed at best, blanket covering him from the torso down. Beer cans littered the floor around the guest, along with other paraphernalia that explained the smell in the air which most certainly didn’t come from the numerous candles burning.

It was a struggle to ignore the mess and fix his eyes back on the superhuman in the window as Drakken took a cautious step in. “Stinkinator didn’t go as planned, hm?” he whispered, crossing his fingers in his pocket that he didn’t sound too disheartened.

“It detonated,” Shilo answered calmly, just as quietly. She didn’t spare him a glance in greeting as she flipped a page in his notebook and flicked her ashes out the window. “Worked like a charm. Only problem was dipshit followed me back. Kinda why I tried getting you to come with me, but you couldn’t take a hint.”

Drakken shied back from the bite in her tone, and narrowed his eyes spitefully at the sleeping body on the floor instead. He supposed the arrangement could be worse, but it was still displeasing to find dog boy had eluded the blast and stuck around after all. “I find it hard to believe you couldn’t fend him off yourself,” he whispered skeptically. He wasn’t sure what good he’d have been by joining her anyway. She could tie the boy in a pretzel if she wanted. She didn’t need help shaking the dirtbag.

Shilo leveled her glare on Drakken for a moment before snorting her frustration. “You shouldn’t be here. What do you want?” she asked coldly, going back to reading his entries.

“I thought I might give you a ride to the café,” he fibbed as he scanned the dim apartment for the dog. He’d really have a beef with the punk if he were bitten by the animal. He wasn’t going to ask about the dog lest he let his apprehension be known, but he had a growing suspicion Shilo had left the door open despite the autumn chill for the specific cruel purpose of letting her guest’s pet run away.

“That’s nice of you,” she said dismissively. “But I’ll have to pass.”

Drakken quirked his brow at her and crept a little closer. He wrung his hands. “I didn’t get you in trouble with Buckley over the whole Friday thing, did I?” There’d be hell to pay if he’d surrendered another recipe for nothing.

Shilo shook her head. “What are you really doing here, Doc?” she sighed. “It better be important. Here to whisk me away again?” She almost sounded hopeful, but maybe he was imagining it.

“You never called to fill me in,” he admitted, mustering up some irritation for the fact.

She snorted lightly and took a drag. “I’m not contractually obligated to,” she chirped.

“Right,” Drakken muttered. He stood in silence for a moment more, rubbing his neck in discomfort and feeling worse the longer he stayed. Her guest was sure to wake if they kept chatting like this. “I’ll just get out of your hair then,” he mumbled. A call had been too much to hope for. That was just a little bit crushing. And finding an unsavory fellow here was an unprecedented blow which inspired a sense of loathing. Unwarranted inferiority crept up on him as he made for the door.

“Hey, Doc,” his accomplice called softly, and as much as he wanted to keep walking, he rolled his eyes and peered over his shoulder. She held up his notebook as if she were about to play fetch with a dog. “Forgetting something?”

She didn’t throw it though, instead making Drakken stalk across the studio to her, meticulously picking his way around the sleeping body and beer cans. As he made a grab for it, she held it out into the open air, out of reach. By the dim glow of the scattered scented candles, he could see the mischievous spark in her eyes.

“How did you get that?” he hissed demandingly. He shouldn’t be surprised. Discreet thievery was one of her selling points.

“You left it on the couch,” she informed, a wry little smirk quirking her lips. She gave the notebook a taunting wiggle, still held out the window. “I was hoping you’d come after me for it. Better late than never.”

Drakken fixed his scowl on her face at it went solemn, and reached for her shoulder to pull her out of the window by force if he had to, ready to wrestle her for his notebook if that’s what it took.

She wasted no time reminding him she was undoubtedly the stronger of the two when she gripped him by the collar of his jacket and yanked him down closer. He planted his hands on the frame so as not to fall into her or out the second-story window. A yelp of surprise lodged in his throat and he went stock-still at her smoky breath tickling his ear.

“I can’t come around for a while,” she whispered quickly, gravely. “Don’t try to be sneaky and spy on me either. You’ll get yourself caught.”

Bewilderment gave way to a fleeting moment of fear – but there was no way she could have known about him up on the hill last night. His eyes darted in the direction he guessed was home, but it was too foggy and dark out to even make out the mountain the lair was dug into.

“I’ll be in touch when the coast is clear,” she added as she released him, yet he remained frozen to the spot. He didn’t have time to wonder what she could possibly mean by that when the phone on the kitchen counter went off. She handed him his notebook then and gave him a rough shove, nearly sending him tripping back over the guest asleep on the rug behind him.

He kicked a couple of cans as he backed away, wincing at the jarring sound adding to the trill of the telephone, though Shilo didn’t budge from her spot on the windowsill. He glanced to the phone ringing persistently, and cocked his brow back at the young woman he knew was not that hard of hearing. How the guest didn’t wake up was a wonder, which made whispering the whole time feel rather pointless.

Out of curiosity, Drakken retreated to the kitchen to check the caller ID. The area code was as unfamiliar as the rest of the number. Nonetheless, he tentatively wondered aloud, “Should I…?”

“No,” Shilo answered curtly, her voice suddenly right behind him, making him jump. She cut in front of him to bar him from the phone, arms crossed as she glared past him. Drakken glanced back, following her line of sight to the dirtbag asleep on her floor. When he raised his brow back at her, her eyes were downcast. She looked almost guilty when she grumbled, “It’s them.”

Them could mean anyone, but he wasn’t that dumb.

It took but a moment to comprehend what her statement entailed, and Drakken stared at her wide-eyed. Dread – and maybe even fear – prickled at his nerves. They’d talked about this, prepared for this. Granted, not a whole lot – but it was the whole reason she was living here in a shabby little studio now rather than with him, resigned to the status of barista in some small-town café. If she didn’t give a good impression for a family reluctant to let her go, a family which had the resources to drag her back, then things could take an unfavorable turn for them both. There were many “worst case scenarios,” such as incarceration, his accomplice returning to Go City, even Team Go relocating to their little Nevada oasis—

“They found you,” he uttered. He really didn’t need to ask. He really didn’t need her confirming his fears.

“Bingo,” was her grim answer.

When she stepped around behind him, he almost turned with her, but then he went rigid at the brush of cold fingers at the nape of his neck and let her fix the ponytail once again. It didn’t feel like he had much choice anyway when she gave it a yank to make him tip his head back to grant her better access. He made a mental note to perfect the art of ponytails – if not to give her one less reason to touch him, then to at least retain some dignity in being competent enough to groom himself to her liking.

Drakken squeezed his eyes shut as if that would help blot out the warm breath on the back of his neck as his partner in crime grumbled, “There. That was bugging me.” He hadn’t been that bad at it, had he? He made another mental note to look in a mirror next time. If she was finished, then why were her fingers still fidgeting around back there? There was a rhythm to her fidgeting. If he had to guess, she was braiding. Could he rock a braid? He had bigger things to worry about than silly braids.

He wanted to snip at her and jump away and take his leave, but his shoes were full of lead.

She was whispering behind him again anyway. “Sorry, Doc,” she murmured dismally, and the dread settled in the pit of his stomach. “Dipshit over there figured it out and turned me in. Guess he’s still pissy with me about Friday.” She groaned miserably, her head thumping into Drakken’s back. “They’ll be here soon. You should really get going.”

Right. If they’d found her, there was no way they wouldn’t rush over as soon as possible.

The reminder was enough motivation to move his feet, but Drakken only whirled on his accomplice to gesture wildly toward the punk crashed on her floor surrounded by beer cans, at least one of which was bent out of shape for an improvised pipe. “Not to criticize,” he hissed, “but don’t boys, booze, and dope defeat the purpose of going through the effort to make you look respectable?” He was supposed to be leaving. He didn’t need to be standing around chiding her, but the words flew out of his mouth before he could stop them.

“Nate’s just a prop,” she dismissed sheepishly as she crossed the room to push the cans under the bed. So hiding the evidence was her plan. Out of sight, out of mind. Now if she’d just kick the sleeping dirtbag under there too.

“What do you mean a prop? Who even is this scrub?” Drakken hissed, his temper starting to climb. He was on the verge of frantic, yet she was calm as could be. She was probably high. That might explain how she could be so mellow about the whole thing.

“Does it matter?”

“He sold you out, so I should think so.”

“Don’t sound so ungrateful,” Shego – Shilo – his accomplice snipped over her shoulder. “I’m only keeping him around to keep suspicion off you.”

That gave Drakken pause. He opened his mouth before he had anything to say, but didn’t have time to compose his argument, let alone ask how harboring a scrappy homeless boy would benefit him at all.

Shego was dumping an ashtray when a muffled rumble made her freeze – then she dropped the whole thing in the trash bin and whisked past Drakken to slam the front door shut, locking it. Her eyes were wide as she turned to look about her studio apartment poorly lit by candles, and then she was hurriedly blowing them out and gathering laundry off the floor in the dark to throw in a hamper in the bathroom.

Worry curdling in his stomach, Drakken realized the roar was the sound of a jet doing a fly-by, far too close for comfort and getting closer again already. When she’d said they’d be here soon, he didn’t think that soon, and it was clear she’d mistakenly made the same assumption. For Pete’s sake, it wasn’t even daybreak! Maybe on the east coast it was, but in Nevada, the average citizen was probably still sound asleep.

“You knew they were coming and you didn’t clean the place up?” he rasped, trying hard not to yell and get caught by the comatose rat still snoring away. “It’s a pigsty in here! And is that a bong? It’s like you want them to drag you back!” Nerves clutched his chest at the very thought.

The rumble of jet engines were already dying to an idle just outside. Dogs everywhere could be heard barking along with the chorus of tripped car alarms.

The lecture was brief because just as soon as she’d pushed the paraphernalia out of sight under the bed, Shego was whirling on him, stalking up to him to jab a finger sharply at his chest. “You listen here,” she hissed threateningly, “if you keep bitching, I’ll ditch you too – don’t think I won’t! I can have your blue ass thrown in prison in a hot second if I wanted to, so zip it.”

Drakken didn’t know what hit him when she grabbed fistfuls of his jacket and promptly shoved him back into a cramped coat closet, the door all but slammed in his face. He had no choice but to silence his complaints as a knock at the front door made his blood run cold.

#The Company You Keep fic #drakgo

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